There was more anger than concern in his voice.
Six months earlier, my children had called me every Sunday. They brought me flowers on my birthday, took pictures with me,
and told everyone how much they loved their mother. But the moment they learned about my pregnancy, everything
changed. Susan said I was humiliating the family. Michael demanded that I end the pregnancy immediately.
When I refused, they accused my doctor of manipulating me. Then they began asking whether I had signed any legal
documents.
That was when I understood that their real fear wasn’t for my health. They were afraid the new baby would become one of
my legal heirs. But I didn’t say any of that in court. The judge examined the medical reports.
“These records state that the pregnancy was closely supervised by a team of doctors. They also say you were fully conscious,
mentally competent, and aware of all the risks.”
“Those doctors were paid,” Michael interrupted. “Our mother is a wealthy woman. Her money can buy any medical report
she wants.”
The judge looked at him sternly.
“You will speak only when you are asked a question.”
Michael fell silent, but I saw his hand tighten into a fist. Then Susan’s lawyer stood up.
“Mrs. Miller, is it true that your husband died forty-six years ago?”
