0 views
The doctor—a man with deep, exhausted lines around his eyes named Dr. Harrison—did not look away from Julian. Instead, his jaw tightened until the muscle ticked.
“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here, Julian,” Dr. Harrison said, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with a mixture of professional shock and personal disgust.
Julian’s composure cracked, just slightly. His eyes darted to the blue bundle in the doctor’s arms, then snapped back to Dr. Harrison. For a fraction of a second, Julian looked like a man standing on the edge of an abyss.
“Dr. Harrison,” Julian said, his voice tight, attempting to regain his usual corporate authority. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, or why you’re holding my—my newborn son with such melodrama. Hand him over to the nurse. We are leaving.”
“Your son?” Dr. Harrison let out a dry, humorless laugh that held no mirth at all. He took a protective half-step back, cradling the infant closer to his chest. “Oh, Julian. That is precisely the problem. This child is biologically impossible. And *you* of all people know why.”
From my hospital bed, the sterile room felt like it was spinning. I tried to sit up higher, my muscles screaming in protest.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my voice raw. “Explain this to me right now! What is wrong with my baby?”
Dr. Harrison looked over at me, his expression softening instantly into deep, agonizing sorrow. He walked slowly toward the bed and gently laid the infant back into my arms. My baby stirred, letting out a soft, tiny mewl that instantly anchored my soul.
“There is nothing wrong with him, Vivian,” Dr. Harrison said gently, resting a comforting hand near my shoulder before turning back to face Julian. “He is perfectly healthy. But he bears a physical signature that science—and your family’s deepest, darkest corporate cover-ups—said could never exist again.”
Julian lunged forward, his face draining of every drop of color. “Shut up! Don’t say another word. You have no idea what you’re meddling in.”
“Meddling?” Dr. Harrison’s voice rose, cutting through the sterile air like a razor blade. “I spent ten years of my life working as the lead genetic researcher for Vance-BioPharm before your father locked me out and buried our findings! I know every strand of recombinant DNA your family engineered, and I know the exact genetic marker stamped into the Vance lineage!”
Julian froze. The high-powered executive, the man who had casually dismantled my life with a stroke of a pen and a cold smirk, looked cornered.
Dr. Harrison turned back to me, kneeling beside the bed so we were at eye level. “Vivian, look at your son’s left ear. Look at the tiny, distinct gold-colored fleck in his irises. And look at the faint, unique configuration of his hairline.”
