Stefan sat quietly in the back seat, the sonogram resting like a weight in his inner coat pocket, pressing against his chest like it held a secret he wasn't meant to discover—not yet.
His fingers tapped against his knee absentmindedly, his thoughts tangled in loops of confusion and suspicion. He kept replaying Ivy's expression in his mind—the genuine confusion, the hesitation, the shift in her eyes when he asked if it was true.
What was she thinking then? Was it real? Was it hers? If not, then why was her name on it? And most importantly, what other truth was she hiding? He'd seen the fear in her eyes. She must've thought something else when he asked that question. What was it?
He was still lost in thought when he noticed it—the occasional glance from Martin through the rearview mirror. Though it was subtle, and brief, it was noticeable enough. Stefan's brows pulled together as he wondered why Martin would be looking at him that way.
"Martin," he said, voice low but firm.
