Chapter 2 - The Phantom Heir
Dr. Aris lowered the transducer, reaching for a clean paper towel to wipe the gel from Allison’s trembling abdomen. The silence in the private examination suite had grown thick enough to suffocate. David’s mother, Evelyn Coleman, leaned forward until the faux pearls around her neck clattered against the stainless steel edge of the exam table.
"Well, doctor?" Evelyn demanded, her voice sharp with impatient entitlement. "We don't have all day. My son gave up his entire marriage this morning for this child. Tell us he’s strong. Tell us he’s got the Coleman jawline."
Megan scoffed from the corner, crossing her arms over her designer knockoff blazer. "Don't rush him, Mother. Doctors love the suspense. Look at that screen—it’s obvious. That is the next generation of our family right there."
David stepped closer, his chest puffed out with the unearned pride of a man who believed the world owed him an empire. He reached out to squeeze Allison’s hand, but Allison didn't squeeze back. Her fingers were clammy, bone-cold, and her eyes were fixed on the acoustic ceiling tiles, avoiding every pair of eyes in the room.
"Mr. Coleman," Dr. Aris began, setting the medical wand into its cradle. He didn't look at David. He looked straight at Allison. "I’ve reviewed the intake paperwork submitted by your partner, and I’ve conducted a thorough scan across three distinct planes."
"And?" David grinned, flashing the bright, shallow smile that had once fooled Catherine years ago. "It’s a boy, right?"
"There is no boy, Mr. Coleman," Dr. Aris said, his voice flat and clinical. "In fact, there is no viable intrauterine pregnancy."
The room seemed to drop ten degrees in an instant.
David’s smile froze, turning into a grotesque grimace. "What are you talking about? That’s impossible. She’s five months along. She’s showing! We felt the kicks!"
Dr. Aris turned the high-definition monitor toward them. The screen displayed a dark, grainy void with scattered irregular tissue—a classic image of a false mass, entirely devoid of a fetal heartbeat, skull, or spine.
"What you are looking at is a severe hormonal pseudocyesis, combined with deliberate padded staging," the doctor continued, his gaze piercing through Allison’s facade. "Miss Vance was fully aware of this diagnosis three weeks ago when she visited our branch downtown. We informed her then that her hcG levels had plummeted to zero and that her body was retaining water due to high-dose fertility stimulants."
Evelyn gasped, clutching her throat as if she were the victim of an armed robbery. "No... no! You’re lying! She showed us the positive test! She showed us the first sonogram!"
"That initial sonogram was pulled from a public medical archive," Dr. Aris said, picking up a clipboard. "I’ve already flagged this file for administrative fraud, considering she attempted to bill this procedure under Mrs. Catherine Coleman’s private family insurance policy."
David’s head snapped toward Allison. The vein along his temple bulged, throbbing violently. "Allison? What is he talking about? Tell him he’s wrong. Tell him right now!"
Allison finally sat up, the sheet sliding down to reveal her midsection. Without the clever lighting and flattering maternity dresses, the truth was obvious: the swelling was uneven, bloated from hormone injections and desperation. She pulled her knees to her chest, her tears breaking through her heavy makeup.
"I didn't mean for it to go this far, David," she sobbed, her voice losing every ounce of its sweet, helpless charm. "I lost the baby at six weeks. But you... you said you would only leave Catherine if I gave you a boy! You said you’d dump me back in the secretarial pool if I couldn't secure your father’s inheritance! I panicked! I just wanted you to choose me!"
Megan shrieked, lunging forward before David caught her arm. "You deceitful tramp! We just signed away the kids! We let Catherine walk out with nothing because of your brat!"
"Shut up!" David roared, his voice shaking the glass cabinets. His entire world was crumbling around his ears. He turned back to Allison, his hands gripping the iron rail of the hospital bed so hard his knuckles turned white. "The money... the five hundred thousand dollars from my trust fund that I transferred to your private account for the baby's nursery and offshore trust... where is it?"
Allison shrank back, burying her face in her hands. "I... I had debts, David. My ex-boyfriend... he threatened to expose the fake ultrasound if I didn't pay him off..."
May you like
David staggered backward, his breath catching in his throat. The trust fund was gone. The heir was a ghost. And Catherine—the woman who had quietly managed his finances, tolerated his toxic family, and kept his life afloat—was currently on a private transport to parts unknown.
Then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was an alert from his bank: Account frozen by order of the Superior Court pending asset disclosure audit.
