I h:id my career as a judge from my mother-in-law. After my C-section, she stormed in with adoption papers, demanding one twin for her infe:rtile daughter. I clutched my babies and pressed the panic button

His gaze moved from the security officers to Margaret, then to my bleeding mouth, then to Noah in my arms.

The coffee slipped from his hand.

The cup burst against the floor.

“What happened?”

Margaret rushed toward him.

“Ethan, thank God. Tell them. Tell them Olivia attacked me.”

He did not look at her.

He looked at the folder on my tray.

His face changed.

Not shock.

Recognition.

“You brought those here?” he asked.

My chest tightened.

Margaret’s voice rose.

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