PART 2 — THE DOCTOR WHO KNEW THE TRUTH
The elevator doors remained open.
Nobody moved.
The doctor stood frozen inside the elevator, staring at me as if she had just seen a ghost.
Her name was Dr. Evelyn Carter.
I knew her.
But Reid knew her better.
At least, he used to.
Evelyn had been one of the specialists who treated me during the final year of my marriage.
She had witnessed every blood test.
Every examination.
Every failed procedure.
Every time Reid sat beside me pretending to be supportive.
And she had been there the afternoon Reid stopped coming to my appointments.
But that wasn't why she looked terrified.
Her eyes moved from me...
to Camille...
then to the baby in Camille's arms.
Her face went completely pale.
“Dr. Carter?” Reid finally said.
His voice was no longer confident.
Evelyn didn't answer him.
Instead, she stepped out of the elevator and walked directly toward me.
“Is that really you?”
I nodded.
“Hello, Evelyn.”
Her eyes immediately filled with tears.
“Oh my God.”
Camille suddenly tightened her arms around the baby.
“What's going on?” she asked.
Evelyn looked at her.
Then at Reid.
“You didn't tell her?”
Reid's jaw tightened.
“Tell her what?”
That question made Evelyn laugh.
But there was nothing humorous about it.
It was the kind of laugh people make when they suddenly realize the person standing in front of them has been lying for so long that even the truth sounds unbelievable.
“You still haven't told her?”
“Evelyn,” Reid warned.
I looked between them.
“Tell me what?”
Nobody answered.
A nurse behind the reception desk slowly stood up.
Another nurse glanced toward the elevator.
People were beginning to notice.
Reid stepped closer to me.
“Don't do this here.”
I almost smiled.
“Do what?”
“Create another scene.”
I stared at him.
“I'm not the one who announced in the maternity wing that his ex-wife was incapable of becoming a mother.”
His face hardened.
Camille suddenly spoke.
“Reid, we should go.”
Evelyn turned toward her.
“No.”
One word.
But it stopped Camille cold.
Evelyn looked at the baby.
“How old is he?”
Camille swallowed.
“One year.”
“His name?”
“Ethan.”
Evelyn's eyes narrowed.
“Ethan Dorsey?”
Camille hesitated.
Reid answered for her.
“Ethan Halbrook.”
Silence.
I saw something flash across Evelyn's face.
Shock.
Then anger.
She looked directly at Reid.
“You gave him your surname?”
“Of course I did.”
Evelyn shook her head slowly.
“You had no right.”
Camille's face drained of color.
“What does that mean?”
Evelyn finally looked at me.
And when she spoke, her voice was quiet.
“Your ex-husband lied to you about why your marriage ended.”
My heart didn't race.
It didn't need to.
Some part of me had already known.
But hearing those words out loud still felt like someone had opened an old wound just to prove it had never really healed.
I looked at Reid.
“About what?”
He said nothing.
I stepped closer.
“About me being infertile?”
His eyes flickered.
That was enough.
Evelyn took a breath.
“Your medical records never showed that you were incapable of becoming pregnant.”
Camille's mouth fell open.
I stared at the doctor.
“What?”
Evelyn looked at Reid.
“Your former husband knew that.”
Reid immediately interrupted.
“That isn't true.”
Evelyn's voice became sharper.
“You were there when we discussed her results.”
“You're misremembering.”
“I am a physician, Reid. I don't misremember laboratory results.”
His face changed.
And suddenly I wasn't looking at the arrogant man who had humiliated me five minutes earlier.
I was looking at a frightened man.
A man who knew exactly what Evelyn was about to say.
I whispered,
“Then why did you leave me?”
Reid stared at the floor.
Camille's eyes darted between us.
Evelyn answered for him.
“Because the fertility problem wasn't yours.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
Evelyn looked at me.
“It was his.”
The hallway went silent.
I heard someone drop a clipboard behind the reception desk.
Reid immediately stepped forward.
“That's confidential.”
Evelyn didn't move.
“Not when you've spent a year publicly telling people your wife was medically incapable of having children.”
His face turned red.
Camille stared at him.
“Reid...”
He turned toward her.
“Not now.”
Her eyes filled with confusion.
“You told me she couldn't have children.”
“I said—”
“You told me the doctors had confirmed it!”
Reid stopped.
And that was when I understood something.
Camille hadn't known everything.
She had believed the story Reid had fed her.
The same story he had fed everyone else.
I looked at her pearl earrings.
Suddenly they seemed pathetic.
“You really believed him?”
Camille looked at me.
Her eyes were wet.
“You don't understand.”
“No.”
My voice was calm.
“I understand perfectly.”
I turned toward Evelyn.
“What did my medical records actually say?”
Evelyn hesitated.
Then she looked around the crowded hospital corridor.
“Not here.”
Reid immediately said,
“Exactly. This conversation ends now.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
His expression froze.
“You don't get to decide that anymore.”
I walked toward Evelyn.
She quietly said,
“Come with me.”
I followed her down the hallway.
Behind me, I heard Camille whispering.
“Reid, what did you do?”
He didn't answer.
But I heard his footsteps following us.
Evelyn stopped outside a private consultation room.
She opened the door.
I stepped inside.
Reid followed.
Evelyn turned around.
“No.”
Reid stopped.
“This concerns me.”
“It concerns your former wife.”
“I'm her husband.”
I looked at him.
“Former husband.”
That single correction seemed to cut deeper than anything else.
Evelyn closed the door.
Then she turned to me.
“There is something else you need to know.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
She opened a folder.
Inside were copies of old medical reports.
My name was printed across the top.
My hands began trembling.
Evelyn placed one page on the table.
“This was your fertility evaluation.”
I looked at it.
Then at her.
“You said there was nothing wrong with me.”
“There wasn't.”
I swallowed.
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
Evelyn's eyes shifted toward Reid.
“Because the report I gave you was altered afterward.”
I froze.
“What?”
She pointed at the document.
“Someone replaced your original report with a version stating you had severely diminished fertility.”
My heart stopped.
Reid's face became completely expressionless.
I looked at him.
“You forged my medical records?”
“I didn't.”
Evelyn slammed her palm against the table.
“Enough.”
Reid flinched.
“I spent months trying to figure out how your original results disappeared from the hospital archive,” Evelyn said. “Eventually, I found the electronic access log.”
I whispered,
“Who accessed it?”
She stared directly at Reid.
“Your husband.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Reid immediately shook his head.
“That doesn't prove anything.”
“No,” Evelyn replied.
“Which is why I kept digging.”
She pulled another document from the folder.
“This does.”
She placed it in front of me.
A financial transaction.
My eyes moved across the page.
A payment.
A consulting company.
A transfer made one week before my final fertility appointment.
The recipient's name was unfamiliar.
But the account number wasn't.
It belonged to a company connected to Reid's business.
I looked at him.
“Why?”
Reid said nothing.
“Why would you do this?”
Still nothing.
My voice cracked.
“Why would you spend money to make me believe I couldn't have children?”
Camille suddenly appeared in the doorway.
She had followed us.
Her face was white.
“Reid?”
He turned.
She was holding Ethan tightly against her chest.
“Is this true?”
Reid stared at her.
“Go back downstairs.”
“No.”
Camille shook her head.
“You told me she couldn't have children.”
“Camille—”
“You said you left her because she refused to accept that she could never give you a family.”
Her voice broke.
“You told me I was giving you the family she couldn't.”
Reid stepped toward her.
“Stop.”
Camille backed away.
“No.”
She looked at me.
And for the first time since I had known her, I saw genuine guilt in her eyes.
Then she looked down at Ethan.
Her expression changed.
“Wait.”
Evelyn noticed it too.
“What?”
Camille slowly lifted her eyes.
“Why did you ask his name?”
Evelyn stared at the child.
Then she looked at me.
“Because there is something very strange about this baby's medical file.”
Reid's face went rigid.
Camille whispered,
“What?”
Evelyn took the folder from the table.
“The baby was brought here this morning because he needed urgent testing.”
Camille's arms tightened around him.
“And?”
Evelyn looked at Reid.
“He needs a blood transfusion.”
Reid immediately said,
“That's why we're here.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“We're here because the blood typing doesn't match what Reid claimed when the child was registered.”
Camille stared at Reid.
“What does that mean?”
Nobody answered.
Then Evelyn said something that made the room completely silent.
“It means Reid may not be Ethan's biological father.”
Camille's face collapsed.
Reid's eyes became terrifyingly cold.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
Evelyn didn't blink.
“I already did.”
I stared at the baby.
A strange sensation moved through me.
Not happiness.
Not revenge.
Something much darker.
Because if Ethan wasn't Reid's son...
then why had Reid destroyed our marriage to get him?
And why had Camille been chosen?
I looked at Reid.
He realized what I was thinking.
His expression finally cracked.
“Don't.”
I stepped toward him.
“Who is Ethan's father?”
Reid didn't answer.
Camille looked at him.
“Reid.”
Silence.
“WHO IS HIS FATHER?”
Her scream echoed through the consultation room.
Ethan began crying.
Camille rocked him desperately.
Reid stared at the child.
And then...
his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
One name appeared.
DR. MARCUS VALE.
Evelyn saw it.
Her eyes widened.
I noticed.
“Who is Marcus Vale?”
Evelyn slowly looked at me.
Then at Reid.
And finally at the baby.
“Marcus Vale,” she whispered, “was the reproductive specialist who handled your original case.”
My blood ran cold.
I looked at Reid.
“You told me he had retired.”
Reid didn't speak.
Evelyn's expression suddenly changed.
“Wait.”
She grabbed the phone from the table.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
She stared at the screen.
Then at me.
“Your original fertility treatment wasn't unsuccessful.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Evelyn's voice dropped to a whisper.
“You were pregnant.”
I couldn't breathe.
Reid's face went completely white.
Evelyn continued.
“You were pregnant when Reid filed for divorce.”
Camille stared at me in horror.
I touched my stomach instinctively.
“But... I wasn't.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“You were.”
“Then what happened?”
She looked at Reid.
And I knew before she spoke.
“The pregnancy wasn't lost.”
My eyes locked onto hers.
“Then where is my child?”
Evelyn didn't answer.
Because suddenly Reid's phone began ringing again.
And this time, the caller ID displayed a name that made him panic.
MARCUS VALE — FERTILITY CENTER.
Reid rejected the call.
The phone rang again.
He rejected it.
Again.
Again.
Finally, I stepped forward.
“Answer it.”
“No.”
“Answer it, Reid.”
His hands were shaking.
For the first time since I had met him, the powerful, untouchable man everyone admired looked genuinely terrified.
Then a text message appeared on his screen.
He read it.
And all the color disappeared from his face.
I watched him carefully.
“What did he say?”
Reid slowly raised his eyes toward me.
He couldn't speak.
So I took one step closer.
“Read it.”
His lips trembled.
Finally, he whispered:
“She knows the child is alive.”
My entire body went cold.
I stared at him.
“What child?”
Reid said nothing.
Evelyn looked at me.
Camille stopped crying.
And somewhere beyond that hospital room, a newborn baby began crying.
I looked toward the hallway.
Then back at Reid.
And suddenly I understood.
The baby Camille had brought into that hospital wasn't the secret.
He was the distraction.
The real secret...
was the child Reid had stolen from me one year ago.
And now someone had finally decided to bring my baby home.
TO BE CONTINUED — PART 3.
