Part 2The Doctor and My Fake Baby

I let out a couple of pointed, frustrated hums. "Well, there you go. You're a doctor. I brought Chloe here for a check-up. It’s what people do at hospitals."

Leo’s smile finally broke through, warm and genuine for a second. "Riley, anyone who didn't know better would think you were the one who's pregnant. I don't remember you ever looking this happy when you were with me."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "I'm going to be the godmother, Leo. I'm allowed to be excited. Just because you're incapable of joy doesn't mean you can't let other people celebrate."

A faint blush crept up his neck. "Riley, don't talk nonsense."

I was enjoying myself far too much, about to fire back with another jab when the office door swung open. A man in a white coat walked in, and my good mood evaporated, replaced by a cold dread.

Oh, God. It was over. It was all over.

All three of us—me, Chloe, and Leo—shot to our feet, a triangle of sudden, awkward tension.

"Dr. Evans," I managed to say, my voice a squeak.

"Dr. Evans," Leo said, his tone respectful.

"Dad," Chloe whispered, her voice barely audible.

Leo's head snapped toward me, his face a perfect mask of confusion. His eyes were wide, practically screaming three giant question marks.

Dr. Evans is Chloe’s dad? he mouthed silently.

I ignored him. Chloe had just called the man "Dad." What more confirmation did he need?

"Riley? Chloe? What are you two doing here?" Dr. Evans asked, his brow furrowed with concern. "Is everything alright?"

Chloe’s hand found mine, her grip like a vise. I shot a panicked look at Leo, frantically trying to use my eyes to tell him to hide the patient file on his desk—Chloe's file. But he just stood there like a deer in headlights, completely missing my desperate telepathic signals.

Useless. My teammate was completely useless.