Chapter 1 - The Cold Truth in Room 402
The sterile, fluorescent lights of the ultrasound room hummed quietly, but to Bradley, the noise sounded like a jet engine spinning out of control.
"What... what did you just say?" Bradley stammered, his hand slipping away from Tiffany’s.
The OB-GYN, Dr. Evans, didn't look up from the monitor. He adjusted the transducer probe on Tiffany’s gel-slicked stomach, his expression completely devoid of the warm, celebratory smile he had worn just minutes before.
"I said, Mr. Mitchell, that based on the fetal crown-rump length and development, this pregnancy is currently at twenty-two weeks," Dr. Evans said, his voice flat and professional. "Which places the date of conception in early February. According to your medical file, you were out of the country on a corporate retreat in Tokyo for the entire first three weeks of that month. Furthermore..."
The doctor paused, clicking a button to freeze the black-and-white image on the screen.
"The genetic screening report we received back from the lab this morning—which was ordered during her last check-up—shows a complete mismatch with the paternal DNA swab Mrs. Mitchell’s sister submitted on your behalf last month. Legally and biologically, it is a physical impossibility for you to be the father."
Tiffany’s breath hitched. She scrambled to sit upright, desperately grabbing the paper sheet to cover herself. "Bradley, no! The doctor is wrong! The machine is broken! I swear, it’s yours!"
"Broken?" Dr. Evans raised an eyebrow. "Miss, I've been practicing medicine for thirty years. Our equipment is state-of-the-art. And your chart also indicates that the medical bills for these prenatal visits have been paid directly from an account registered under a different name. A Mr. Victor Vance."
Bradley felt as if the room had suddenly tilted on its axis.
Victor Vance.
His boss. The CEO of the investment firm where Bradley had spent the last five years desperately trying to secure a partnership. The man who had personally recommended Bradley for the Tokyo retreat.
The door to the ultrasound room suddenly opened. Two uniformed hospital security guards stepped inside, accompanied by a woman in a sharp grey pantsuit—the clinic’s legal representative.
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"Mr. Mitchell," the representative said. "We have reason to believe that the insurance policy used to register this pregnancy was fraudulently obtained using your ex-wife’s corporate benefits plan, which was terminated at 9:00 a.m. today. You are currently trespassing on private medical property, and we will be filing charges for insurance fraud."
Outside the glass doors of the clinic, Bradley’s mother, Evelyn, and his sister, Brittany, were holding large blue gift boxes, laughing and talking about the future. They had no idea that the "perfect new beginning" they had sacrificed their own grandchildren for had just disintegrated into a dirty, humiliating lie.
