“Eight months ago, I found your texts,” Sarah whispered, her voice dangerously calm. “I was going to divorce you and take everything. But then, I discovered Elena was pregnant. And a few weeks later, I found out I couldn’t have children of my own. The doctor told me the fertility treatments had failed.”
I stared at Sarah, my mind racing. “But… your belly. You’re in labor.”
Sarah reached under her maternity dress. With a sickeningly casual movement, she pulled at a strap. The large, round bulge of her stomach shifted, flattening instantly. She unhooked a medical-grade silicone prosthetic and tossed it onto an empty waiting room chair.
She wasn’t pregnant. She had never been pregnant.
“I needed a baby, David,” Sarah said, her eyes dead and wide. “And you owed me one.”
I looked at Elena, terrified. “Elena, what is she talking about? What did she do to you?”
Elena swallowed hard, tears finally welling in her eyes, but they weren’t tears of fear for herself. They were tears of twisted triumph. “She didn’t do anything to me, David. She paid me.”
The room spun….
