Chapter Two

CLAIRE

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the harsh glare of the hospital lights and the steady beep of the monitors beside my bed. The brightness stabbed through my skull, which throbbed as though someone had driven nails into it. My body ached, heavy and unresponsive, each muscle screaming in protest. Even breathing felt like a battle I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight.

I tried to move, but my arms trembled violently, as if they belonged to a stranger.

“Claire?”

The voice was soft, trembling. I turned my head with effort and blinked against the brightness. Lena sat in a chair beside me, her hand gripping mine so tightly it almost hurt. Her eyes were swollen and red, her face pale with exhaustion, but when she saw me awake, her lips broke into a quivering smile.

“Lena…” My voice cracked, raw and hoarse, as though it had been scraped by glass. “How long…?”

“You’ve been out since yesterday,” she whispered, wiping at her cheek quickly as though ashamed of the tears. “You scared me half to death. I thought I’d lost you.”

Her words sliced straight into me. Guilt and sorrow tangled in my chest, heavy and suffocating. I tried to push myself up, but the IV tugged painfully at my arm, and I collapsed back against the pillow with a weak groan.

“Don’t,” Lena said quickly, pressing her palm to my shoulder. “You’re too weak. Please, just rest. That’s what you need right now.”

Before I could argue, the door opened. A doctor stepped inside, flipping through a chart. His expression softened with relief when he saw me awake.

“Mrs. Darlington,” he said warmly, “thank goodness you’ve come around. Your vitals look stable. If recovery continues like this, you should be fit for discharge tomorrow.”

Lena let out a shaky laugh of relief, her hands pressed together as though in prayer. “Oh, thank God…”

But the doctor didn’t leave. His smile faltered, his lips pressing into a tight line, and his eyes flicked nervously between us.

“There is… something else we need to discuss.”

Lena’s head jerked up. “What do you mean something else? You just said she was fine!”

“Yes, physically she is,” he said carefully, lowering his tone. “This isn’t about that.” He hesitated. “Mrs. Darlington, I believe this conversation would be better had in private.”

I forced strength into my voice though it rasped. “No. Whatever it is, Lena is family. Just say it.”

The doctor’s throat bobbed. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “You’re pregnant.”

The words fell into the room like thunder.

Lena gasped. Her hands clamped onto mine, trembling, her face breaking into fresh tears. “Claire! Do you hear that? You’re pregnant! After everything—you finally have your miracle!”

Miracle.

The word cut through me like a blade.

I should have been overjoyed. I should have clung to her, cried with her, thanked heaven for this impossible blessing. But Jason—my husband, the man I thought I’d build a family with—had just left me. He had walked straight into my sister’s arms. Betrayal still burned like acid in my veins. And now… this?

My body went cold. My lips trembled as I whispered, “No… That’s not possible. I cannot be pregnant.”

“Claire…” Lena’s voice was desperate, pleading. “Why are you saying that? This is what you’ve wanted. This is what you prayed for.”

I shook my head violently, pressing a hand against my stomach as though I could erase the life growing there. “No. The last treatment failed. I wasn’t due for another implantation until next week. It’s impossible.”

The doctor cleared his throat, his face lined with unease. “That’s what I need to explain. There was… a complication.”

My pulse spiked. “What kind of complication?”

He hesitated, lips pressing tight. “There was an error during your last procedure.”

“What kind of error?” My voice cracked into a raw whisper.

He shifted uncomfortably. “It didn’t fail. And the sample used… wasn’t your husband’s.”

For a moment, the room tilted sideways. I clutched the sheet, breath snagging in my throat. “What?”

“There was a mismatched transfer.” His voice was reluctant, heavy with shame. “The DNA confirms the embryo is not from Jason Darlington.”

A roaring filled my ears. My stomach lurched violently. I gripped the edge of the bed until my knuckles whitened. “Then whose is it?”

His mouth pressed thin. “I can’t divulge that information. Patient confidentiality—”

I let out a bitter laugh, jagged and broken. “Patient confidentiality? You made me carry a stranger’s child without my consent, and now you want to hide behind ethics?”

Lena’s eyes burned with fury. “You’d better tell her. Right now.”

The doctor hesitated again, torn between his oath and the gravity of what had been done. Then he exhaled sharply, as though defeated.

“Fine. The father is Christopher Anderson, He is a donor at the hospital.

The name struck like a hammer blow.

I stared at him, numb, my voice shaking. “And Jason’s sample?”

The doctor faltered. “It was… allocated to another patient.”

My chest heaved. “What patient?”

“I can’t—”

“Don’t you dare,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “Don’t you dare tell me about confidentiality now. You ruined my life. You owe me the truth!”

His shoulders slumped. “Sasha Williams.”

The floor seemed to drop out from under me.

Sasha. My sister.

If it wasn’t enough that she had stolen Jason, that she had taken my drug and claimed it as her own—now she carried the child that should have been mine.

Lena staggered back, covering her mouth with trembling hands. “Oh my God…” Then she rounded on the doctor, her voice sharp with rage.

“How could you let this happen? Do you even realize what you’ve done to her? She fought for this—bled for this—and you hand her life to vultures? She should sue you into the ground!”

The doctor’s face drained of color. “I know this is unforgivable. The hospital will cooperate fully, I assure you. But please—don’t make any decisions right now. Stress is dangerous at this stage.”

I barely heard him. The word pregnant rang in my ears, twisting into both miracle and curse. For years I had dreamed of this, begged for it. And now it was here—twisted, corrupted, tied to betrayal. Not Jason’s child. Not the future I had clung to.

Instead for Christopher Anderson. A stranger.

Tears blurred my eyes as I whispered, “Why now? Why like this? When Jason claims we are divorced me even though I had no idea when I signed any paperwork.

Why would fate mock me like this?”

Lena gripped my hand again, fierce and trembling. “Claire, listen to me. You can fight this. Don’t let them break you again. Make them pay. Don’t let them take this from you.”

But her words barely reached me. My mind reeled with images of Sasha cradling a baby that should have been mine. Jason smiling beside her. My dreams handed to them while I carried the burden of a stranger’s name inside me.

“I will not press charges… on one condition,” I said, my voice trembling slightly, though I forced it to stay steady. “No one can know. Including the father. I… I don’t even want to know him.”

The doctor’s eyes softened. “Yes… we can do that.”

“Thank you… for not pressing charges,” he said, his tone gentle, before leaving the room.

Lena looked at me with curious concern, but I had already turned my back to the wall, my chest tight with a mix of relief and lingering fear. I couldn’t let her see the turmoil in my eyes, or question my decision.