Page 30
I hop off the cot to get a better look at her shadowed face. She makes it a little difficult by partially looking down at her shoes, but as I step closer, she turns her head up. Any other situation and I’d be flashing a wink to keep her attention, but I’m not exactly in the position to flirt right now.
I wait for her to continue, but she just stands there, staring at me. “Is there something I can assist you with, Detective?” I ask, feeling snarky.
“Heterochromia,” she says.
I lean into the bars between us. “My eyes?”
“Have you always had it?”
“What does that have to do with my case?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Uh…” I shake my head, but whatever. I’ll play along. “Yeah. I was born with it. Got it from my mom.”
She nods while her eyes scrape the floor between us. “Does the number 7134-C mean anything to you?”
I chuckle awkwardly. “No. I can’t say it does.”
“Nothing at all?”
“Detective, what is this about?”
Anna takes a deep, slow breath. “Have you…” She exhales hard. “Have you ever donated sperm?”
I blink as a chill takes my spine. How far back into my history are they digging here? How many scams have they uncovered? If I say the wrong thing, I’ll never see the outside world again.
“Do I need to see a lawyer, Detective?” I ask.
“This isn’t about your case,” she says. “I just need to know if you’ve donated sperm and, if so, what information did you put in your profile?”
I stare at her as my mouth sags.
“Milo,” she says, her voice rising. “Have you ever donated sperm?”
“Yes,” I let slip.
“When?”
“I don’t know. Like, five years ago?”
“Harvard Law graduate?” she asks. “150 IQ? Lives in Chicago with a dalmatian named—”
“Named Layla,” I say with her. “Yeah.”
Her face turns white. “Oh, my god,” she whispers.
She turns around to face the wall with one hand over her mouth and the other on her stomach.
I stare with confusion. “Anna?”
“I’m gonna vomit.”
“What are…” I pause. “Wait, did you?”
She spins back around, her face contorted in horror.
“Your daughter?” I ask, pointing up at my eyes. “The one with the—”
