We pull up to the estate and I expect Bael to disappear into his study like usual, leaving me to figure out what to do with the rest of my day.
Instead, he turns to me as we're getting out of the car.
"Come with me. There's something you should see."
I follow him inside, through corridors I'm starting to recognize, to his home office at the end of the west wing. Large windows overlook the gardens, dark wood furniture arranged with precise efficiency.
He closes the door and gestures to one of the chairs facing his desk.
I sit, still clutching the ultrasound photos like they might disappear if I let go.
Bael moves around to his computer, wakes it up with a few keystrokes, then turns the monitor so I can see.
Security footage.
The timestamp shows the wedding reception, right around when I was standing with Mrs. Zhou's circle.
"I wanted to show you this earlier," he says, leaning back against the desk edge, arms crossed. "But you were busy recovering."
