The idea that he was sitting in some hotel room, calmly transferring money like it was a transaction, like she needed to be bought off or bribed for her honesty—it made her stomach twist. She turned to the bassinet beside her, where her newborn son slept peacefully. His features were unmistakable. The same sharp jawline. The same dark lashes. He was Samuel’s son through and through. And still, Samuel wanted proof.

That night, sleep evaded her. The rhythmic beeps of the monitors, the soft footsteps of passing nurses—none of it drowned out the echo of Samuel’s message. Every time she blinked, she saw those words again: DNA test… just to be sure.

By morning, golden light streamed through the hospital windows, casting a gentle glow across the maternity ward. But to Claire, it felt hollow. She sat quietly beside her son, now named Elias—a decision she made alone, since Samuel wasn’t there to help choose. His tiny chest rose and fell with each breath, and Claire thought back to the nights she’d whispered dreams and promises to him through the curve of her belly. Promises of love. Of safety. Of unity. Now, those promises felt cracked.

Friends filtered in throughout the day—bringing flowers, balloons, and cheerful words. Claire tried to return their warmth, but every smile felt forced. When her best friend Julia asked when Samuel would be arriving, Claire just nodded and said, “Soon.” She didn’t mention the deposit. She didn’t share the message. She wasn’t embarrassed by anything she had done—only by the heartbreaking lack of trust from the man she thought she knew.