Then he laid one hand, very gently, against the soft cheek of his newborn son.

Only after that did he turn, slowly, to face her parents.

When he spoke, his voice was low, almost courteous, which was somehow worse than if he had shouted.

“Did I hear you correctly,” he said.

“Or did you just call my son fatherless?”

Ingrid took a half-step back, clutching her handbag to her chest like a shield.