Good.Now Damian knew.The baby had been real.And his chances of ever having another child were almost nonexistent.Seven weeks.There had already been a heartbeat.The life he had destroyed with his own hands had truly existed.I didn’t know what his face looked like when he saw the medical records.But that night, his calls came one after another.The first call, I didn’t answer.The second, I didn’t answer.The third, I still didn’t answer.By the fourth, he sent a voice message.I didn’t play it.But Ethan’s phone rang.The caller ID showed a landline number.Ethan answered.After listening for a few seconds, his expression shifted slightly.He glanced at me, walked out onto the balcony, and closed the door behind him.Through the glass, I saw him standing with his back to me, one hand braced on the railing, speaking for a long time.When he came back in, his expression had returned to calm.“Who was it?” I asked.“Damian. He called from a landline.”Ethan sat down, his voice even
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