Connor leaned forward. “Enough. You don’t know what you’re implying.”
Kenneth’s voice remained even. “I know exactly what I’m implying. I’m also stating that the signatures are now being formally challenged.”
Connor’s eyes flashed. “Good luck.”
Then Kenneth said the sentence that made the room stop breathing.
“The child may have been conceived using embryos created by Kirsten and Connor during their marriage.”
Melinda covered her mouth.
I heard the baby babble softly in the stroller, a bright little sound that did not belong beside such a sentence.
My mind refused it.
Then accepted it.
Then refused it again.
“No,” I whispered.
Kenneth looked at me with quiet compassion. “I’m sorry.”
I turned to Melinda.
She was crying now, silently, tears slipping down her cheeks while she stared at the floor.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” I said.
She did not answer.
