“Excuse me,” Dr. Salinas said. Her hand did not move from the ultrasound transducer resting on the cold blue gel spread across my lower abdomen. Her voice carried the flat, unhurried weight of an obstetrician who had delivered four thousand infants and seen every iteration of domestic collapse. “This is an active clinical examination suite. Intruding upon a patient during an internal diagnostic scan is a direct violation of state medical privacy protocols. You will wait in the outer corridor.”
“I am her legal husband,” Diego spat, pulling his leather wallet from his interior coat pocket and slapping a laminated blue insurance card against the metal surface of the rolling medical cart. “I pay the premium on this policy. I am listed as the primary policyholder. And I have every right to document the medical timeline of an illegitimate pregnancy before my legal counsel files our asset dissolution petition this afternoon.”
