The room went quiet.
Behind her, the screen lit up.
She turned slowly—and the color drained from her face.
I explained everything. Calmly.
The diagnosis. The procedure. The fact that I couldn’t have children.
Then I showed the proof.
Medical reports. Dates. Facts.
Gasps filled the room.
Stephanie panicked. “What are you doing?”
I didn’t stop.
“I also don’t know if she’s even pregnant,” I added.
That’s when the room shifted completely.
Then I revealed the rest.
The messages.
Her words. Her plans. Her betrayal.
Clear. Impossible to deny.
People stared. Whispered. Reacted.
Her parents looked shocked. Mine said nothing.
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