One year after my divorce, I ran into my ex-husband in the pediatric wing of the hospital where I worked. He proudly introduced the one-year-old son he had with my former best friend, expecting me to fall apart in front of everyone. Instead, I smiled and quietly said, "Really?" Five minutes later, my attorney stepped off the elevator—and the sound of a baby bottle hitting the floor was the first crack in the life they thought they had stolen from me.

Two weeks later.

The Metropolitan Correctional Center was a gloomy, concrete monolith standing on the edge of downtown Chicago.

I sat in a private interview room behind a thick pane of bulletproof glass. I was holding a small silver frame containing a photo of Leo taking his first steps in my living room yesterday afternoon. He was wearing a tiny blue onesie, laughing brightly as he reached for a plush bear.

The heavy steel door on the opposite side opened, and Melinda stepped inside.

She looked unrecognizable. The sleek, highlighted hair was dull and pulled back into a messy bun. She wore an orange jumpsuit that was three sizes too large for her thin frame. Her face was hollow, dark circles ringed her eyes, and her hands were bound by heavy handcuffs attached to a waist chain.

She sat down on the metal stool, staring at me through the glass. She didn't pick up the phone immediately. She just looked at my tailored white suit, my diamond earrings, and the serene, unbothered peace on my face.

Finally, she picked up the gray plastic receiver.

I lifted mine to my ear.

"Come to gloat?" Melinda asked, her voice dry and rasping.

"No," I replied calmly. "I came to give you an update."

Melinda let out a bitter, ugly laugh. "An update? On what? How much you enjoy living in your mansion with my baby?"

"He was never your baby, Melinda," I reminded her gently. "He is my biological son. You were just a thief who tried to use your own body as a vault for stolen goods."

Melinda’s hands slammed against the metal counter, making the chain rattle violently. "I carried him for nine months! I felt him kick! I gave birth to him! You didn't do any of that! You were off playing hero in South America while I did the work!"

"You did the work of a criminal," I said, my voice unflinching. "And now you’re going to pay the price. Connor signed a full confession yesterday morning in exchange for a reduced fifteen-year sentence."

Melinda froze. "What?"

"Connor gave up everything," I continued. "He handed over your text messages, your bank records, the emails where you discussed how much money you were going to demand from my family trust once Leo turned two. He threw you under the bus to save his own skin, Melinda. Just like he threw me under the bus two years ago."

Melinda stared at me, her mouth working silently as tears began to spill down her cheeks. "He... he promised he’d hire a top defense lawyer for me..."

"Connor doesn't have a dollar to his name," I said. "Every asset he owned has been seized by the court. His sports car was repossessed yesterday. His apartment is up for foreclosure. He’s going to state prison, Melinda. And you’re going to a federal penitentiary."

Melinda dropped her head onto the counter, sobbing hysterically, her shoulders shaking violently under the orange jumpsuit.

"Why did you do it, Melinda?" I asked softly, genuinely wanting to understand. "We were friends since college. I paid off your student loans. I gave you a job at my clinic. I invited you into my home."

Melinda slowly raised her head, her eyes filled with a terrifying, venomous jealousy.

"Because you had everything!" she spat out, her voice dripping with rage. "You were born rich! You were born brilliant! You walked through life like nothing could touch you! Even when you couldn't get pregnant, you still had your prestige, your medical career, your father's legacy! I wanted to see you broken, Kirsten! I wanted to see you crawl!"

I looked at her with pure, unadulterated pity.

"You thought taking my child would make you me," I said softly. "But all it did was make you a felon."

I stood up from my chair, picked up my handbag, and set the silver frame on the counter for just a second so she could see Leo’s smiling face.