Chapter 2

Lexi's hand dropped. Her face crumpled like I'd slapped her.

"Madi, please." Her voice broke. "This is all a misunderstanding. Just let me explain—"

"A misunderstanding?" I stared at her. "Three DNA tests say otherwise."

Colton moved between us, his hand up like he was calming a wild animal. "Okay, everyone just calm down. Madi, you're clearly upset—"

"Don't tell me to calm down."

"These tests." He gestured at the papers still in Sloane's hands. "They could be wrong. Labs make mistakes all the time—"

"Not three times." I crossed my arms. "Not at three different facilities."

"Then someone tampered with them." His voice got louder. Defensive. "Or you read them wrong. You're not a doctor, Madi—"

"I can read a percentage." I pulled out my phone and held up a photo of the first report. "GeneTech Labs. Zero percent match between Harper and me."

I swiped. "Second test. Helix Diagnostics. Same result."

Swiped again. "Third test. BioTrace. Still zero."

The crowd pressed closer, phones out, recording everything. Good. I wanted proof this happened.

Colton's jaw tightened. "This is insane. You're having some kind of breakdown—"

"I'm having a breakdown?" I laughed. "That's your play? Blame my mental health?"

Lexi stepped forward, Harper still in her arms. The baby was crying now, scared by the shouting. Lexi bounced her gently, tears streaming down her face.

"Madi," she said softly. "I carried her for you. Nine months. I went through labor for you. I did this because I love you. Because I wanted to help you have the family you deserved."

God, she was good. I could see people softening, their faces shifting from shock to sympathy. Poor Lexi, the generous surrogate, being accused of something horrible.

"You're lying," I said.

"I'm not." She looked at the crowd, then back at me. "I would never hurt you. You're like a sister to me."

A woman I vaguely recognized—someone from Colton's office—spoke up. "Maybe there was a mix-up at the clinic? These things happen—"

"Yeah," another voice agreed. "IVF procedures are complicated. Maybe they used the wrong embryo?"

I turned to face them. "There was no clinic."

Silence.

"What do you mean?" Sloane asked.

"I mean exactly what I said. There. Was. No. Clinic."

Colton laughed, but it sounded forced. "That's ridiculous. We have all the paperwork—"

"Do you?" I challenged. "Show everyone the clinic's name. The address. The doctor who performed the procedure."

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

Lexi jumped in. "We used a private facility. For discretion—"

"Discretion or because it doesn't exist?"

"You're being paranoid," Colton said.

"Am I?" I pulled up my email on my phone. "Here's the name you gave me. Westwood Fertility Center. 2247 Westwood Boulevard, Suite 302."

I showed him the screen. "I called them last week. You know what I found? It's a mailbox rental. There is no fertility center. There never was."

The murmurs got louder. I saw doubt creeping into faces that had been sympathetic to Lexi moments ago.

"That's impossible," Lexi said. Her voice shook. "The clinic—"

"Didn't exist." I turned to her. "Neither did Dr. Reynolds, the 'specialist' who supposedly handled everything. I looked him up. Want to know what I found?"

She didn't answer. Harper wailed louder.

"He's not a fertility doctor. He's an actor Colton hired."

"That's a lie," Colton snapped.

"Is it?" I looked at Sloane. "You handle the family finances. Check Colton's accounts. March of last year. Fifty thousand dollars to Marcus Reynolds. The memo? 'Professional services.'"

Sloane pulled out her phone immediately. She had access to the family trust accounts. Colton realized what she was doing and moved toward her.

"Sloane, don't—"

"Don't what?" She looked up, her face hard. "Don't fact-check you?"

"This is between me and Madi—"

"Like hell it is." She kept scrolling. Her eyes widened. "Jesus Christ. Colton, there's a payment here. Fifty grand. To Marcus Reynolds."

The crowd erupted. People shouted questions. Cameras flashed.

Colton's face went red. "That was for something else—"

"What else?" I demanded. "What innocent reason is there to pay an actor fifty thousand dollars during the exact time Lexi was supposedly getting IVF treatments?"

He had no answer.

I pressed on. "And here's something else. Remember when Lexi had her 'embryo transfer'? March fifteenth. She was supposed to be at the clinic all day. Resting. Doctor's orders."

"I was," Lexi whispered.

"No. You weren't." I pulled up another photo. "This is a hotel receipt. The Peninsula. The same day. The same room. For thirty-six hours."

I looked at Colton. "Both of you checked in. Together."

His face went white.

Someone in the crowd whispered, "Oh my God."

A man I didn't know spoke up. "Wait, but the blood type thing—couldn't that just be a coincidence?"

"No." A voice came from the back of the crowd. Priya pushed through—my best friend since college, a doctor at Mercy General. We'd been distant lately because I'd been so wrapped up in being a new mom. Now I understood why she'd seemed concerned every time we talked.

"Priya," I said. Relief washed over me. An ally.

She walked up to me, then looked at the crowd. "I'm an OB-GYN. I can confirm what Madi's saying about blood types."

"Thank you." I turned back to the crowd. "Harper's blood type is AB positive."

Priya nodded. "That's correct. I was there when they tested her. Six-month checkup."

"I'm O positive," I continued. "Colton is A positive."

"Two parents with O and A blood cannot produce an AB child," Priya said, her voice clear and clinical. "It's genetically impossible. The O parent has no B allele to pass on."

"But Lexi is B positive," I said. "Aren't you, Lexi?"

She didn't answer. Just held Harper tighter.

"That's how Harper has AB blood," I said. "Because her parents are Colton—A positive—and Lexi—B positive."

The math was simple. Even people who'd never paid attention in biology could follow it.

Colton stepped forward, his expression shifting. The panic was still there, but now there was something else. Calculation.

"The surrogacy was real," he said firmly. "We have the clinic records. Everything was documented. We can prove it."

I smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "Do you?"