**Kyra**
I closed the group FaceTime with a small smile still tugging at my lips. My girls were a mess in the best way. Loud, nosy, overprotective, and exactly what I needed.
But now the room was quiet again. Just me and the soft hum of my ceiling fan, the blinking light on my humidifier, and the unopened folder the doctor had handed me a few days ago.
I reached for it.
Inside: printed instructions, early pregnancy guidelines, recommended OBs, and copies of my bloodwork. A second sheet had my patient ID number and the new file the clinic created for my case.
Then I saw it, a duplicate form.
Zaire's.
They'd given both of us full access, for transparency. Not joint responsibility. Not pressure. Just shared records in case either of us needed to communicate anything about the pregnan
