Chapter 7 - THE MIRACLE DIAGNOSIS
Two weeks after our meeting with Dr. Vance, my body began to undergo changes that Dr. Sterling had predicted with scientific precision. The metabolic cleansing had purged the chemical suppressants from my system, and my natural hormonal balance had returned with astonishing vigor.
It was a Tuesday morning when I sat on the examination table in Dr. Sterling’s private clinic, holding my breath as the cold ultrasound probe glided across my lower abdomen.
Dr. Sterling stared intently at the high-resolution monitor, his face completely devoid of expression. For agonizing seconds, the room was silent except for the low hum of the medical equipment.
Then, a rhythmic, galloping sound filled the small room. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
My eyes widened. “Is that...?”
“That,” Dr. Sterling said, a rare, genuine smile breaking across his stern face, “is a healthy heartbeat, Sloan. And if you look right here on the screen... wait, let me adjust the frequency.”
He tapped a few keys on the keyboard, zooming in on the glowing grayscale image. Two distinct, separate gestational sacs came into sharp, unmistakable focus on the display.
“Twins,” Dr. Sterling announced softly. “You’re carrying twins, Sloan. And based on the developmental markers, conception occurred approximately four weeks ago—right around the time your system fully cleared its chemical suppression.”
Tears spilled over my eyelashes, hot and fast, streaming down my cheeks as I stared at the screen. For three years, Julian and his mother had convinced me that my body was a broken, defective machine. They had mocked me, humiliated me, and thrown me out into the rain because I couldn't give them an heir. And now, sitting here in a private clinic surrounded by medical elite, my body had created two new lives against all odds.
“Are they healthy?” I managed to whisper, my voice cracking with overwhelming emotion.
“Remarkably healthy,” Dr. Sterling assured me, handing me a box of tissues. “Given your history of medical sabotage, we’re going to monitor your pregnancy with a top-tier celebrity medical team—the absolute best maternal-fetal specialists in the country. You and these babies will be protected every step of the way.”
When I walked out of the clinic and into the bright afternoon sunlight, Arthur was waiting by his vintage sedan. He took one look at my tear-stained, beaming face and smiled gently.
“I take it the news is good?” Arthur asked, opening the passenger door for me.
“It’s miraculous, Arthur,” I said, sliding into the seat and placing a protective hand over my flat stomach. “I’m pregnant. And not with just one. Twins.”
Arthur’s eyes softened, a deep, profound warmth lighting up his weathered features. “Julian wanted an heir so badly that he engineered his own wife's supposed infertility to cast her aside. Wait until he finds out what nature—and a little bit of medical truth—has cooked up in his absence.”
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“He’s going to lose his mind,” I whispered, a fierce, triumphant smile spreading across my lips.
“No, Sloan,” Arthur corrected, closing the car door and walking around to the driver's seat. “First, he’s going to lose his company. Then, he’s going to lose his freedom. And finally, when the truth comes out in open court, he’s going to realize he threw away the greatest thing he ever had.”
