“I am leaving the house tonight,” I said, setting the suitcase by the sideboard. “But we are not finished with the paperwork.”
I walked to the table and placed the sealed laboratory envelope directly over the blue check.
“What is this?” Margaret asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the green logo of the Austin Diagnostic Laboratory. “We have no need for more medical bills.”
“It is a certified laboratory report,” I said, my voice steady and quiet. “Perhaps Evan should read it aloud.”
Evan laughed, a rapid, defensive sound. “Claire, if this is some old record from our IVF attempts, it is irrelevant. The boys are here. The DNA testing was completed by the surrogacy agency in Houston.”
“Open it, Evan,” I said.
He reached down, his fingers catching on the thick paper. He tore the top of the envelope open with a sharp, ragged motion, pulling out the single folded page inside.
Margaret leaned closer, her platinum ring clicking against her handbag. “What does it say, Evan?”
