For the baby who had done nothing wrong.
The clinic smelled of alcohol, baby powder, and fear.
Dr. Salinas greeted me gently.
“Did someone come with you?”
I shook my head.
“My husband says this baby isn’t his.”
The doctor did not judge me.
She did not make a face.
She simply asked me to lie down.
The gel was cold.
The screen lit up.
I held my breath.
First, there was a shadow.
Then a tiny moving dot.
Then a heartbeat.
Strong.
Fast.
Alive.
I covered my mouth and cried.
“Hello, my love,” I whispered.
Dr. Salinas smiled softly.
Then she moved the transducer again.
Her smile faded.
She frowned.
She zoomed in.
She checked the date of my last period.
Then she looked at my chart.
“Mrs. Laura… when did you say your husband had the vasectomy?”
I went cold.
She did not answer right away.
She zoomed in again.
The heartbeat was still there.
But there was something else too.
Something that made the doctor stop and turn serious.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to sit up. “Is my baby okay?”
The doctor lowered her voice.
“Your baby is fine. But I need you to listen calmly.”
At that moment, the door opened without permission.
Diego walked in, with Paola right behind him.
“Perfect,” he said. “Now the doctor can finally tell me how far along this other man’s baby is.”
Dr. Salinas turned slowly toward him.
She looked at Paola.
Then she looked back at the screen.
