I leaned against the cool marble countertop of the sink, staring at the numbers glowing on my screen.

It was black and white.

Jared was not the father of Courtney’s baby.

He was paying millions of dollars to fund a lie, completely blind to the fact that his rival’s son was the true father.

But an anonymous PDF on a phone was not enough to destroy Jared.

If I presented a digital file, he would claim I fabricated it.

He would hire his high-priced PR team to call it a forgery and use his influence to bury the story.

I needed the official, certified physical record from the hospital’s administrative office.

I needed the version with the wet ink signature and the embossed hospital seal.

I put my phone in my purse and looked in the mirror.

My face was pale, but my eyes were sharper than they had been in years.

I washed my hands in the cold water, dried them with a paper towel, and walked back out.

The VIP wing of the hospital was quiet, save for the distant hum of an air conditioner.