That’s impossible!”
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Anathea clutched the hem of Gregory’s coat. “Gregory, 1-
Suddenly, the door was pushed open. It was Charlotte. “What? Ten weeks?”
She looked as if she’d just uncovered something explosive, pointing at Anathea. “No wonder your belly isn’t showing! You’re not 13 weeks pregnant as you claimed! Oh my god! This baby isn’t even yours, is it, Gregory?”
Anathea’s face went pale for a second.
If she was only ten weeks pregnant now, that would mean she’d gotten pregnant after she left Castenea. During that time, she and Gregory hadn’t seen each other at all, which meant the baby couldn’t be Gregory’s. But how was that possible?
Anathea said, “I still have my previous test results-
“You faked those!” Charlotte shouted, cutting her off.
“You obviously hooked up with some random guy and still had the nerve to pretend the baby belongs to Gregory! This is outrageous! Gregory, why are you still protecting a woman like her—”
“Shut the hell up!” Gregory roared, silencing Charlotte in fright.
Anathea flinched as well, her hand slowly loosening from Gregory’s coat.
Staring at Anathea intently, Gregory pulled out his phone and dialed the number of the nurse who’d previously called to inform him of Anathea’s pregnancy.
But all he got was a cold, automated voice. “The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
Gregory’s grip on the phone tightened, veins bulging from the back of his hand.
The examination room fell into complete silence.
Outside, the sky suddenly darkened, and a violent storm burst forth.
Martin rushed in after getting a call from Gregory and was startled by the heavy atmosphere in the room.
“What did you find?” Gregory asked coldly.
Martin glanced at Anathea, his expression complex.
Anathea clenched her fingers, a sense of dread spreading through her chest,
“This is the test report I got from the hospital in Syntherra.” Martin handed the report to Gregory.
Then, he hesitated but forced himself to speak. “When Mrs. Sinclair had her prenatal checkup in Syntherra, she weeks along.”
The report in Gregory’s hand turned to shreds, while Anathea’s breath caught.
Everything around her started to blur, and she stumbled.
“Mrs. Sinclair!” Martin quickly reached out to steady her, disbelief written all over his face.
Even he couldn’t believe the result. How could the baby not be Gregory’s?
“Anathea, tell me the truth.” Gregory grabbed her wrist, his voice low and steady. But his eyes were dark.
Anathea bit her lip. “Will you even believe me if I do?”
‘s seven
She didn’t know how this had happened either. It was as if she’d suddenly fallen into a setup, as though someone had
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deliberately tampered with everything.
No matter how she tried to prove herself, every piece of evidence had been overturned.
She’d fallen into a storm of trying to prove her innocence, powerless and trapped. It was as if this dead end was tailored just for
her.
Charlotte looked at Gregory’s cold, stormy expression and cautiously said, “Why don’t you… do a paternity test? There’s a prenatal one, right?”
Anathea froze for a second.
“Yes, a non–invasive prenatal paternity test,” the doctor said, picking up the thread.
“It only requires a blood draw from the mother. Using high–throughput sequencing, we can extract fetal DNA from her blood and compare it with the father’s DNA to determine paternity. We just need to draw Mrs. Sinclair’s blood again”
“I refuse!” Anathea suddenly stepped back, her voice hoarse and breaking.
