I asked the doctor

Franco’s POV.

I stared at the report, my eyes scanning the words, but unable to make sense of it. The medical jargon was confusing and unfamiliar. I felt a sense of panic rising in my chest.

“What's this?” I asked the doctor.

“Your bone marrow matches with his,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. But his words did nothing to ease my anxiety. I felt overwhelmed and confused.

“How’s this possible?” I asked confused.

“ Because you are the father of the child,” he said.

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “How can I be the father of the child?” I asked incredulously. “Does this doctor understand how biology works?”

My voice was tinged with anger and disbelief. It was impossible, I was sure of it. But the doctor looked at me calmly, and said,

“I understand your skepticism, but there is no doubt that you are the father of this child. Your DNA matches perfectly.” I felt my world spinning, my mind reeling. How could this be?

“Ivery told me that she wasn't the mother of the kids,” I said, my