I leaned back against the counter and closed my eyes.
For a year, Camille had enjoyed every second of her victory.
The photos.
The engagement party.
The carefully staged social media posts.
The captions designed to humiliate me without ever mentioning my name.
Now she wanted me sitting in the audience while everyone celebrated her miracle.
The problem was simple.
It wasn’t Daniel’s miracle.
And by the end of the afternoon, everyone in that room was going to know it.
I picked up my phone and called Evelyn.
She answered on the second ring.
“Tell me you’re not thinking about ignoring that invitation.”
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked at the DNA report.
“I’ll be there.”
A pause.
Then Evelyn laughed.
“Poor Camille.”
For the first time in months, I smiled.
The gift had already been ordered.
This story is a fictional narrative inspired by universal human experiences. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
