— Get ready! You’re coming with me! — a stranger at the doorstep of my apartment confidently declares.
— What? Who are you, man?
— Your husband and the father of our child!
— You’ve gone crazy? Get out! — I try to shut the door, but the man won’t let me and hands me my open passport, stamped with a marriage registration from last December.
— And yes, the paternity test will be positive.