The room went still.
“I’m not ready to be a mom,” she continued. “But I have rights. Unless you pay me to walk away.”
Megan broke. I felt something inside me sharpen—not anger, but clarity.
I asked how much.
“Fifteen thousand. Cash.”
She didn’t know our security system recorded audio.
She didn’t know my phone was recording too.
We gathered evidence. We hired an attorney. We fought.
Months later, the judge ruled that extortion had taken place and terminated her parental rights.
Rhea was legally, finally ours.
When we brought her home, Megan held her for hours, whispering love like an anchor.
Four weeks into parenthood, we nearly lost our child.
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