Lance drops his phone and jumps to his feet. His face is ice cold and stony but his eyes are filled with doubt. He rushes up to the doctor and glares down at her.
“Tell me,” he demands.
The doctor trembles and stammers, “The-the results sh-show—”
“What do they show?” Lance shouts, grabbing the doctor by the collar of her lab coat.
The doctor squares her shoulders, looks Lance in the eye and says, “The tests show that you’re not the father of either child.”
Lance lets go of the doctor’s coat, and her legs buckle beneath her. She sinks to the floor, panting for breath. Andrea looks at Lance—his face is terrible. For a moment she’s afraid he’s going to kick the poor doctor. But then he laughs, loud and humorlessly.
The tests say that my baby isn’t his? she thinks. That’s impossible! I d
