“What’s wrong with you?”

Madison had gone white. “Why is he here?”

Sinclair stopped beside me and rested a steadying hand against my back. “Because Naomi asked me to come.”

Preston’s smug expression faltered. He knew Sinclair’s reputation — everyone in the city did.

Dr. Nathan Sinclair was the director of St. Catherine’s reproductive medicine center, and he was the physician who had reviewed my original fertility records after I noticed several pages missing from the medical documents buried in my divorce file.

Sinclair looked from Preston to the child in Madison’s arms.