Chapter 9

9 months. Or we lose everything. In the car, Michael was silent. Finally:  

“We can fake it.”  

I stared at him.  

“What?”  

“A fake pregnancy. Bump. Doctor’s note. Ultrasound. By month 8 we ‘miscarried’ and said we’ll try again.”  

My stomach turned.  

“That’s fraud.”  

“So was our first marriage,”...

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