The church was still spinning from Eleanor’s words when she lifted her phone.

“I don’t make accusations without evidence,” Grandma Eleanor said calmly. “Unlike some people.”

Selene’s hands trembled. “What are you talking about?”

Eleanor turned slightly toward the pastor. “With your permission.”

The pastor hesitated, then nodded. “Proceed.”

Eleanor pressed play.

Dr Joshua’s voice filled the church speakers—clear, professional.

"SO THE PREGNANCY IS FAKE.”

“EXACTLY. AND I NEED YOU TO MAKE IT REAL… ON PAPER.”

“I’M NOT GOD, MS. SELENE. I CAN’T PULL A PREGNANCY OUT OF THIN AIR.”

“YOU’RE THE CLOSEST THING TO GOD IN A LAB COAT THAT I KNOW. ALL I NEED IS A FORGED RESULT...