My heart hammered against my ribs.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This isn’t pen ink,” Dr. Aris said.

She zoomed in closer.

A door at the back of the courtroom opened with a heavy thud.

A man in a dark suit walked in, holding a manila envelope.

He caught my eye and nodded.

It was the courier from the hospital records department.

He had the original C-section authorization forms from eight years ago.

I looked back at Gavin.

He was watching the courier, his face draining of color.

He knew exactly what was in that envelope.

The fifteen minutes were up.

The bailiff stood up and announced the judge’s return.

“All rise,” the bailiff said.

Judge Beckett walked back in and took her seat on the bench.

She looked down at us.

“Is the petitioner ready to present her findings?” Judge Beckett asked.

Deborah stood up, her posture straight and confident.

“We are, Your Honor,” Deborah said.

“And we would like to call Dr. Linda Aris to the stand.”

Gavin’s attorney stood up quickly.

“Your Honor, we object,” Dane said.

“This is highly irregular.”