“My father kept a private backup on his personal server before his death.”

Olivia stared at the folder but did not touch it, as if it were dangerous.

“What is that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“It’s the contract Margaret made with the clinic director,” I said.

“And the medical evaluation she had drawn up for you.”

Olivia frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“What evaluation?”

“Margaret paid Dr. Sterling fifty thousand dollars to write a false psychiatric report,” I said.

“It states that you suffer from severe delusional paranoia and postpartum psychosis.”

“She was going to use it the moment the birth certificate was filed.”

Olivia took a step backward, her back hitting the stone fireplace mantle.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“She loves me.”

“She said I was the daughter she always wanted.”

“She used you to get my embryo because she knew I would never let her touch my child,” I said.

“And then she planned to take the baby from you and lock you away in a private clinic.”

“Look at the third page, Olivia,” Julian said gently, pointing to the folder.