The air in the Westbridge Fertility Clinic smelled of antiseptic and lemon polish.

Outside the window, a gray Denver sleet tapped against the double-paned glass.

I gripped the edge of the mahogany desk, my knuckles turning white.

Across from me sat Margaret Lawson, her pearls catching the harsh fluorescent light.

Beside her, Ethan looked at his shoes, his hands trembling slightly in his lap.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Claire,” Margaret said, her voice flat and cold.

“I had to,” I said.

I pulled a folder from my leather bag and dropped it onto the desk between us.

The sound was loud in the quiet room.

“These are the embryo transfer forms from three years ago,” I said.

Ethan flinched but did not look up.

“I know my own signature, Ethan,” I said, staring directly at my ex-husband. “And I never signed this consent form.”

Margaret adjusted her gold watch, her expression unchanging.

“Medical records can be complicated,” she said. “You are making a scene out of nothing.”

“It is not nothing,” I said. “Olivia carried my child. My biological child.”

I opened the folder, pointing to the bottom of the page.

The signature was a clumsy imitation of my cursive, the loops too wide, the pressure too light.

“You forged my name to release the embryo to Olivia,” I said.

Ethan finally raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed.

“Claire, please,” he muttered. “Just let it go. It is done.”

“Let it go?” I asked. “You stole my baby.”

“He did not steal anything,” Margaret interrupted, her voice sharp as glass. “The child belongs to this family.”

I looked at her, disgust rising in my throat.

“The DNA results came back this morning,” I said, my voice steady despite the shaking in my chest. “The boy Olivia delivered is my biological son.”

Margaret smiled, a tiny, chilling movement of her lips.

“Of course he is,” she said. “We never denied the maternal match.”

Ethan shrank back into his chair, looking smaller than ever.

“But there is something else on the report,” I said, leaning forward.

The sleet outside turned to heavy snow, casting dark shadows across the desk.