CHAPTER 8: The Deception

"What?" Arabella's voice was barely a whisper.

The doctor didn't make her wait.

"The DNA results confirm that Mr. Adrian Whitmore is a ninety-nine point nine percent biological match to Raina Quinn."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Arabella's breath stopped. Her vision blurred, the room tilted. Her fingers gripped the armrest so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Beside her, Adrian went perfectly still. His face drained of color, jaw clenching hard.

Across from them, Everett made a sound, something between a gasp and a choked cry. He staggered back, gripping the edge of the desk as though it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Lilian's hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

The silence stretched, suffocating and absolute.

Finally, the doctor continued, his voice gentle but firm. "Mr. Quinn, you show zero percent biological relation to the child." 

Everett's legs gave out. He dropped into the chair behind him, staring at nothing. His face was ashen, hollow.

"That's..." Arabella's voice cracked. She shook her head violently. "No, that's impossible."

The doctor's expression softened with sympathy. "I understand this is shocking, but the results are conclusive."

"No." Arabella stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "You don't understand. Adrian and I…we never…" She couldn't even finish the sentence. Heat flooded her face.

"I know," the doctor said quietly. "That's why I asked about your pregnancy."

He opened the file again, turning it so she could see the medical documentation and procedure codes with dates stretching back three years.

"Ms. Ashford, according to your medical records, your pregnancy was not the result of natural conception."

Arabella stared at the pages, trying to make sense of the words swimming before her eyes.

"You underwent in vitro fertilization," the doctor explained. "IVF. Multiple procedures over a six-month period."

The room spun.

"No," Arabella whispered. "That's wrong. We were trying naturally. Everett and I… we were trying the normal way."

"These records indicate otherwise." The doctor pointed to specific entries. "Hormone stimulation protocols, Follicle monitoring, Egg retrieval and Embryo transfer."

Each word felt like a punch to the gut.

"I would have known," Arabella said, her voice rising with desperation. "I would have remembered something like that!"

"IVF requires informed consent," the doctor said carefully. "Detailed consultations. Multiple appointments. You should have been made fully aware of every procedure."

"That’s the point, I wasn't!" Arabella's hands shook. "I don't remember any of this! I don't…"

She turned to Everett who sat slumped in his chair, staring at his hands. Defeated. Broken.

"Everett." Her voice trembled. "Look at me."

He didn't move.

"LOOK AT ME!"

Slowly, he raised his head. The man staring back at her was hollow. Empty. Guilty. 

And at that moment, Arabella knew.

He'd done this. He had always known. 

"Everett, say something, please." She was losing it. "You don't know about the IVF, do you?" Arabella demanded, stepping closer. "Tell me you didn't do this without my knowledge."

Everett's throat worked, his mouth opened, but no sound came out. His jaw tightened. 

Still nothing.

Her chest heaved. "Answer me! What did you do to me?!"

Just then, a sharp knock cut through the room and the door opened before anyone could respond.

"Doctor…" A nurse stood in the doorway, face pale. "I’m sorry… but the child in room 304. Her vitals…" 

"Raina?" Everett was already moving toward the door. 

"Her temperature spiked to 104. She's inconsolable."

“I’ll be right there,” the doctor said. 

Arabella barely registered the movement as they all filed out, her legs carrying her forward on instinct alone.

Raina's cries echoed through the small room, high-pitched and desperate. Her face was flushed with fever, tiny fists beating against the blankets.

Lilian bent over the bed, stroking her hair. "Shh, baby. Mama's here. I'm here." But Raina only screamed louder, arching away from her touch.

Arabella stood frozen in the doorway.

Her daughter.

Her baby girl.

The doctor moved quickly, checking monitors, adjusting IVs. Everett hovered uselessly at the bedside, his face gray with worry.

And Adrian stayed near the door, clearly wishing he were anywhere else.

Then Raina's eyes opened. She stopped mid-scream, her gaze sweeping the room. Past Lilian, past Everett. And then, landing on Adrian.

She went very still.

Everyone held their breath.

Then Raina lifted one small hand toward him. Reaching out to him.

Adrian didn't move. He couldn’t move. His face had gone pale.

"Adrian," Arabella whispered.

He hesitated, then crossed the room slowly, like a man walking toward his execution. When he reached the bedside, Raina's tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb. 

Her crying stopped.

Just... stopped.

She stared up at him with wide, dark eyes, Arabella's eyes and something deep passed between them. Like a connection. 

The room was silent except for the beep of monitors.

"That's..." Lilian's voice was strangled. "She doesn't do that. She never calms down for strangers."

Everett stared at the joined hands of his daughter and this man, and something inside him broke.

Arabella watched Adrian's face. He looked terrified.

Not of Raina, but of something else she couldn't quite place. 

Adrian gently loosened her grip and stepped back, as though afraid of what would happen if he stayed any longer.

“I need air,” he muttered, already turning away.

The door closed quietly behind him.

Arabella wanted to follow, to ask what he'd felt in that moment when Raina reached for him. But Everett was still here. And she needed answers more than comfort.