“I don’t know any child,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut up,” he snapped. He shoved a printed screenshot in my face. It was from a local parents’ group on Facebook, a post I’d made selling duplicate baby items from our registry. “These ‘duplicate packages’ you were selling. We know that’s code for twin babies. And these ‘buyers’ you mentioned? We know who you’re really selling to.”

The cuff bit into my wrist as my blood pressure monitor began to shriek, a frantic, high-pitched alarm. A nurse rushed in. “Her pressure is 180 over 120! The stress could cause a placental abruption!”