The ultrasound gel is still cold on my belly when I hear them whispering outside the exam room.\n\n"She doesn’t even look like her anymore," Daniel says. "But she plays the part well enough."

My breath catches. The technician had just smiled and said, "Healthy heartbeat, Dr. Laurent." As if that were my name. As if I hadn’t once been Emily Hartwell—before he asked me to change it. Before I agreed.\n\nI clutch the edge of the table, the image of our child flickering on the screen. That’s my daughter kicking. Not hers. Not the other Annette’s.\n\nWhen Daniel opens the door, his smile is flawless. "Ready to go home, sweetheart?"\n\nBut I’m not ready. Because now I know—this house isn’t mine. This name isn’t mine. And maybe, just maybe, this life was never meant for me at all.\n\nI have three choices: pretend I heard nothing, confront him now in the hospital, or leave without saying a word and never come back.