hand around my finger.
My fear softened.
She wasn’t responsible for our father’s history.
She wasn’t defined by the clinic’s mistake.
She was simply Lily.
My niece.
A little girl who deserved love and happiness.
Three weeks later, I gave birth to Noah.
Emily stayed beside me throughout labor.
When I finally held my son, all the frightening questions that had filled my pregnancy seemed to fade for a moment.
He was warm, tiny, and beautiful.
He was my baby.
Several days later, Emily brought Lily to my apartment.
We
