The delivery nurse, who had been charting quietly in the corner, stepped forward with her jaw set.

“Sir, lower your voice.

Your wife just came through twelve hours of labor, and this baby needs quiet.”

Nicolas didn’t care.

He grabbed his coat off the chair, and his eyes had a paranoid darkness in them I had never seen in eight years.

“We’re doing a paternity test,” he said, pointing a shaking finger at me.