Chapter 9

9 months. Or we lose everything. In the car, Michael was silent. Finally:

“We can fake it.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

“A fake pregnancy. Bump. Doctor’s note. Ultrasound. By month 8 we ‘miscarried’ and said we’ll try again.”

My stomach turned.

“That’s fraud.”

“So was our first marriage,”...

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