The ultrasound wand glides over my bare stomach, cold and clinical. I stare at the screen, searching for movement, for proof that something alive is growing inside me. Trevor sits beside me, hand resting on mine like we’re a real couple. He doesn’t squeeze. He doesn’t breathe.\n\n"There," says Dr. Chen, pointing to a flicker in the gray. "That’s your baby’s heartbeat."\n\nMy chest tightens. Not joy—grief. This isn’t just a child. It’s a transaction. Bred to save Scarlett. Conceived in silence, under pressure, in a room that smelled like lavender and lies.\n\nAfterward, in the parking garage, Trevor finally speaks. "You don’t have to do this alone, Yvonne."\n\nI turn to him, rain dripping from the overhead vent. "But I am alone. And you’re not offering help. You’re offering guilt."\n\nMy phone buzzes. Unknown number. One message: "I know what they made you do. Meet me tonight if you want out."