A Bolt from the Blue
Mark raked his hair, snarling at Susan. That report—the prop of his deception, the anchor of my marriage—could be falsified? The thought exploded, shattering everything. My hand slid down the fridge door, nails scraping cold metal. Strength drained from my limbs. Ann’s words coiled like poison around my heart. I drew a breath, trapped in my throat. Step by step, I returned—each footfall unsteady. Mark and Susan fell silent, watching. Susan’s gaze held inquiry; Mark’s brimmed with desperate appeal.
Confronting Mark
"Jennifer? What did she say?" Mark pressed, stepping toward me. I flung up a hand, halting him. Turning the phone screen to him, I let him read Ann’s message—especially the seal doubt. My voice rasped like sandpaper: "Mark, this report... are you certain it’s the original from the hospital?" Mark scanned the words. Instantly, color drained from his face, lips blanching. His defensive fervor vanished, replaced by naked panic.
Mark's Panic
He averted my gaze, throat emitting a guttural sound. "I... this..." He waved a hand wildly, voice rising in forced outrage. "What does she know? A mere technician! How dare she question official documents? Seals can’t be fake! That woman’s behind it!" His rebuttal rang hollow, desperate. Mark’s floundering ignited Susan’s smoldering fury. She released a sharp, bitter laugh, laced with scorn and grief. "Official hospital? Proof?" She stepped forward, no longer shielding the boy.
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