Dr. Whitfield slid a paper toward her.
“You take this home. It’s a referral. You tell your husband you both need testing. This isn’t an accusation. It’s medical responsibility.”
Nyla stared at the paper like it was dangerous.
Because she already knew Terrence. She already knew Ivonne.
They didn’t like truth.
They liked control.
Still, Nyla left the clinic holding that referral like a secret weapon.
Her heart pounded the whole drive home.
Not because she was afraid of the results.
Because she was about to challenge a man who had been hiding behind pride—and a mother-in-law who had been hiding behind blame.
And deep down, Nyla knew this next conversation wouldn’t be peaceful.
It would be war.
The following evening, Nyla waited until Terrence finished eating. She didn’t want to talk while he was hungry, because hungry Terrence was worse than tired Terrence, and tired Terrence was already cruel enough.
When he finally pushed his plate away, Nyla took a slow breath and placed the referral paper on the table.
Terrence looked down at it like it was trash.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Nyla kept her voice soft. “It’s from a specialist. The doctor said we should both get tested.”
Terrence’s eyes lifted, and the anger came fast. Too fast.
“So you did go behind my back,” he snapped.
Nyla’s heart thumped. “I wasn’t trying to disrespect you. I just—”
Terrence stood so hard the chair scraped the floor.
“You just what?” he barked. “You trying to say I’m the reason you can’t keep a baby?”
Nyla flinched. “I didn’t say that,” she whispered. “The doctor said it could be either of us. We need to know.”
