his head.
“That isn’t true.”
Without arguing, I took out my phone.
I opened an archived folder.
Twenty-seven emails.
Hospital records.
Certified letters.
Delivery confirmations.
Every attempt I had made to tell him I was pregnant.
Every message his family office had intercepted before it could reach him.
Alexander scrolled slowly.
His breathing became uneven.
“I never saw any of these.”
“I know.”
Vanessa appeared behind him.
“This is ridiculous.”
She crossed her arms.
“She could have fabricated all of it.”
I almost admired how quickly she recovered.
Almost.
I
