The Living Heir
Before I could react, Preston raised a single trembling hand and silenced the room.
His eyes were wide and fixed on my face.
“That’s impossible,” he choked out, a tear forming at the corner of his eye. “It’s a lie. You lost the baby. The hospital sent the records. I saw the miscarriage report, Hannah.
I saw it with my own eyes.”
The silence after that felt heavier than the air itself.
Miscarriage report.