My thoughts raced backward through my marriage, rearranging moments I had misunderstood. Victor’s sudden tenderness when I became pregnant. His new insistence that I rest, that I stop seeing certain friends, that all decisions go through him. His frustration when I mentioned wanting my mother’s last name as Julian’s middle name. His cold silence when I said I wanted to be in the delivery room with only medical staff, not him hovering.
“What happens if the mother dies before the baby is born?” I asked.
Marianne’s face tightened.
Adrian looked toward the window.
“What happens?” I repeated.
Marianne spoke carefully. “That depends on the trust language. But if Victor could claim the child was born alive, even briefly, or if records could be manipulated…”
She did not finish.
She did not need to.
My stomach rolled. “But he told investigators the baby died with me.”
“That may have been for the insurance claim,” Adrian said. “Different lies for different audiences.”
