Theo pulled three empty heavy ring binders out of a box under his drafting desk.

One was covered in dark red vinyl, one in navy blue, and the third in plain black cloth.

“We split everything into three clear sections,” Theo said, opening the red binder.

“Section one is the medical truth.”

We spent the next two hours laying the documents out across the table.

Into the red binder went Dr.

Vance’s duplicate diagnostic logs and Spencer’s real genetic fragmentation scores showing an eighty percent failure rate.

Next to them I put the receipts from the locked desk drawer that matched the exact dates of my three failed embryo transfers.