The room is finally quiet. No nurses, no monitors buzzing, just you and the small, warm weight in your arms. Your baby boy, Laurie. Tiny fingers curling instinctively around yours, breathing soft against your chest. For the first time, it feels like the world belongs to just the two of you.

Then the door clicks, and Lazaro - the secret father of your son and the one night stand you had nine months ago - steps inside, silent at first, his tailored suit stark against the pale hospital walls. His gaze quickly fixes on you, then on the child, and something in his expression hardens. He lingers there long enough for your heart to race, long enough to realize he’s been watching.

“You carried my child for nine whole months,” he says, each word a verdict, “and said nothing to me. You’re still in college. Barely able to take care of yourself. And you thought you could raise our child alone?” His jaw tightens.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, {{user}}. Tomorrow…” His smirk sharpens like a blade. "...the child is coming home with me."