Open it,” I replied, my tone even.

He tore it open, expecting—what? A surrender? Divorce papers? He skimmed the first page, and I saw the color drain from his face.

“These…” His voice faltered. “This can’t be true.”

“They’re true, Michael,” I said, my voice clear, carrying to every corner of the table. “They’re from the fertility specialist you saw six months ago. You didn’t know I found them. You didn’t know I spoke to the doctor myself. And those results confirm you are medically infertile.”

The silence that followed crackled with intensity. Gasps echoed around the table. My mother’s hand covered her mouth. My uncle muttered something sharp under his breath.

Sofia stiffened, her face paling as she turned to Michael.

“That baby,” I continued, my voice unwavering, “cannot be yours.”

Michael clutched the papers, as if they might rewrite themselves. “You’re lying!” he shouted, slamming them down. “This is some scheme!”

I shook my head. “No scheme. The results are definitive. And you’ve known, haven’t you? For months, you’ve known. But instead of truth, you chose to humiliate me. You brought this woman into our home, thinking you’d disgrace me before my family. But tonight, Michael—you’ve disgraced yourself.”

Sofia’s lips quivered. Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered, “Michael… you swore… you promised this was your child.”

Michael turned to her, panic flaring in his eyes. “It is! It has to be!”