AT MY DAD’S WEDDING, I POINTED AT HIS PREGNANT BRIDE AND SCREAMED, “THAT BABY ISN’T YOURS!”—I WAS ONLY 6, BUT WHAT I SAW 11 NIGHTS EARLIER MADE HER TURN DEATHLY PALE!

"I wasn't anywhere near Bellweather House," Cal said. "I was home with the flu. Ask my wife."

He looked genuinely sick as he stared at the copy of the visitor log. Daniel wanted to believe him. Cal had worked beside him for eleven years and had helped carry Carmen's coffin. But wanting wasn't proof.

"I'll give Nina my phone records," Cal said. "Whatever you need."

By lunchtime Nina had learned that the visitor-log signature could have been entered on a tablet without identity verification. Evelyn was willing to explain that to the lender's fraud team. The fake entry had made Cal look like Daniel's authorized agent.

Across town, Harper was telling a very different story. A local reporter called Daniel about a headline blaming his daughter for a canceled wedding.

"My daughter won't be part of your story," Daniel said.

"Then your side may never be heard."

"Protecting her is more important than winning a headline."

At home Rosa turned off the television before Lucía entered. Too late: the little girl had already seen Harper crying on a courthouse step, one hand resting on her belly. She did not look like a monster. She looked like someone sad.

"Is the baby sad too?" Lucía asked.

Rosa drew her close. "Babies don't choose the mess they're born into."

Daniel heard that and felt something shift. He wanted truth, but he did not want the unborn child used as punishment. He asked Nina how paternity could be established fairly. She explained that any prenatal test would require proper consent and medical handling; otherwise the question could wait until after birth.

Then his phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number. A picture appeared: Lucía and Rosa entering the grocery store that morning, taken from across the parking lot.