His eyes were full of conflict, but conflict was not courage. When he still did not answer, I nodded. “All right.”

I walked upstairs with the ultrasound photograph still hidden in my coat. By sunrise, I was gone.

For eight years, that was the memory I carried — the final proof that Ethan had chosen suspicion, pride, and his family’s influence over me.

Chapter 6 — The Look I Misremembered

Standing in Exam Room Four, I realized my memory had preserved every detail except one: the look on his face when I left. I had remembered it as cold.

Now, watching him stare at the closed door through which Ava had disappeared, I wondered whether it had been something else.

“How old is she?” he asked again, quieter now.