Not a birth certificate.
Not a blessing.
A certified DNA report.
Camille’s smile froze instantly.
Daniel frowned. “What the hell is that?”
I stood slowly.
“My gift,” I said calmly, “is the truth.”
A murmur spread through the room immediately.
Camille tried slamming the box closed, but Daniel snatched the frame from her hands. His eyes moved across the page once. Then twice. His entire face emptied of color.
“What is this?”
His mother stood abruptly. “Daniel?”
“It says I’m not the father,” he whispered.
Silence exploded across the ballroom.
Camille clutched her stomach instinctively. “That’s fake.”
