I didn’t answer. I just stood there, both hands resting on my stomach, waiting.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang.

His parents chuckled, assuming it was a neighbor or a delivery. But when I opened the door, every smile disappeared.

Standing there was Officer Turner, calm and professional in her blue uniform, a folder held neatly in her hands.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m here to check on a welfare concern.”

The room fell silent. Mark stiffened. Lisa’s face lost its color. His mother slowly set down her fork.