Luke had once told me he didn’t own a second phone.
He had laughed when I asked.
“Why would I need one?”
The detective turned it over.
“No password?”
I shook my head.
She pressed the screen.
It opened.
There were hundreds of messages.
My hands began trembling.
The first conversation was with a number saved under a single initial.
D.
The messages went back years.
I read the most recent one.
D: Is she still refusing?
Luke: She thinks she’s finally figured it out.
D: Then the next pregnancy has to be the last.
My stomach turned.
I scrolled.
Another message.
Luke: The doctor says she can still conceive.
D: Good. Make sure she doesn’t know.
Then another.
Luke: If it’s a boy, we have a problem.
I stared at the screen.
“What problem?”
Rebecca whispered.
The detective kept scrolling.
A message from years earlier appeared.
D: The trust only transfers to a biological son.
I stopped breathing.
