Chapter 3

"Albert Johnson. Male. Twenty-nine years old."

I pulled a yellowed lab report from the envelope, my voice clear and loud enough for every single person in the lobby to hear.

"Semen analysis report: sperm density — zero. Sperm motility — zero."

I paused, my eyes sweeping over Albert's face, which had gone ghost-white in an instant.

"Diagnosis: Primary azoospermia."

Boom!

The room erupted again.

This time, the uproar was even louder than before.

"Azoospermia? Doesn't that mean he's shooting blanks?"

"Oh my God, so it's the man who can't have kids!"

"And that old woman had the nerve to accuse the wife of cheating? Shameless!"

Albert stood there like he'd been struck by lightning, completely frozen. His face, usually slick and flushed, was drained of every drop of color.

The smile on Mia's face went rigid. She whipped her head toward Albert, her voice sharp and unsteady: "Albert! What is this? You told me there was nothing wrong with you!"

Albert stammered, "M-Mia, just let me explain—"

"Explain what?!" Mia slapped him across the face. The crack of it echoed through the room.

"You lied to me! You actually lied to me!" Mia was shaking with rage, pointing right in his face. "Your mother made me drink that disgusting herbal medicine every single day and called me a hen that couldn't lay eggs — and it turns out you are the one who can't have kids, you useless piece of garbage!"

Albert covered his face with his hand and couldn't say a word.

Yvonne panicked too. She hadn't expected me to still have the medical records from back then.

But she was a seasoned troublemaker. Her eyes darted around, and she launched right back into her act.

"It's fake! All of it's fake!" Yvonne lunged at me, trying to snatch the lab report out of my hand. "Yulia, you conniving witch! You're trying to cover up your own affair by forging documents to frame my son! My son is perfectly healthy!"

I stepped back, dodging her grab, and held the lab report high above my head.

"Forged?" I laughed coldly. "It has St. Mary's Hospital's official seal, the attending physician's signature, and Albert Johnson's own signature right there at the bottom. Go ahead — verify it yourself."

I flipped the lab report around and held it up for everyone to see.

A clear red official seal. The doctor's bold, sweeping signature. And Albert Johnson's unmistakable scrawl.

Someone in the crowd called out: "That seal looks real to me!"

"The handwriting matches too!"

Yvonne's face cycled through every shade of red and white, like she couldn't settle on one.

She gritted her teeth and pushed back: "Even if… even if that record is real, it only proves my son had health issues back then! How does anyone know where that kid of yours really came from? For all we know, you slept with some random man!"

"Still not giving up, are you?"

I nodded and pulled another sheet of paper from the folder.

"In Vitro Fertilization – Embryo Transfer Informed Consent Form."

I read it out, word by word.

"Patient: Yulia Miller. Spouse: Albert Johnson. Due to the spouse's severe azoospermia and inability to provide viable sperm, both parties have consented to in vitro fertilization using an anonymous donor from a licensed sperm bank."

I turned to the last page and pointed to the signature line.

"Family member signature — Yvonne Johnson."

I held the consent form right up in front of Yvonne's face.

"Yvonne, that's your own signature. Surely you recognize it?"

Yvonne's eyes locked onto that signature, wide and unblinking, like they might pop right out of her head.

Her lips trembled. She couldn't get a single word out.