Chapter 3 - The Unexpected QuestionThe silence in the examination room became so heavy you could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning vent overhead.
Preston’s smug expression dissolved entirely, replaced by a sudden, jagged twitch in his jaw. He stepped closer to the desk, his protective facade faltering.
“What kind of question?” Preston demanded, his voice rising defensively. “Doctor, what are you talking about? Just point to the screen and confirm the boy. My parents have a celebratory dinner booked at the club in two hours.”
Dr. Harrison didn't look at Preston. Her piercing, clinical gaze remained locked entirely on Brielle Foster, whose breath was visibly shallow now, her chest rising and falling beneath the designer silk dress in rapid, panicky rhythm.
“Ms. Foster,” Dr. Harrison began, her tone measured and clinical. “According to our lab’s advanced chromosomal sequencing—which is mandatory for all high-risk prenatal screenings in this clinic—the genetic markers of this fetus show an XX chromosome pairing.”
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Then Arthur Hale frowned, leaning forward. “XX? What does that mean in layman’s terms? Speak English, doctor.”
“It means,” Dr. Harrison stated clearly, “that the fetus developing on that monitor is genetically female.”
If a bomb had gone off inside the examination room, the reaction couldn't have been more explosive.
“Female?!” Evelyn shrieked, half-rising from the sofa, her diamond bracelets clinking violently. “That’s impossible! Brielle swore to us—she assured us every symptom, every traditional indicator pointed to a boy! Preston checked everything!”
“Doctor, your machine must be malfunctioning!” Brielle blurted out, her voice pitching up into a shrill, defensive panic as she sat bolt upright. “낡은 (old) equipment! You didn't calibrate it right! Check it again! I know I’m having a boy!”
“Our equipment is calibrated daily by biomedical engineers, Ms. Foster,” Dr. Harrison replied coldly, tapping her tablet screen. “There is no mistake about the chromosomal structure. But that wasn't the unexpected question I wanted to ask.”
Preston grabbed the edge of the glass desk, his knuckles turning stark white. He looked down at Brielle, his eyes narrowing with sudden, sickening suspicion.
“Then what is the question, Dr. Harrison?” Preston hissed, the blood draining entirely from his face.
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Dr. Harrison stood up slowly, folding her hands in front of her white lab coat. She looked around the room, meeting each wealthy, horrified face before fixing her eyes back on Brielle.
“My question is simple,” the doctor said, her voice ringing clear and sharp in the quiet room. “According to the global medical database and our hospital's mandatory DNA lineage verification registry... Ms. Foster, how is it possible that the biological father of this child matches a paternal DNA profile that was registered under a completely different name in our system three weeks ago—a profile that has absolutely zero genetic match to Mr. Preston Hale?”
