The next forty-eight hours felt endless.
We didn’t tell anyone.
Not Nathan’s parents.
Not my sister.
Not even our closest friends.
We simply waited.
The DNA test was ordered through the hospital’s genetics department.
While we waited, Nathan started searching through every old document connected to Emily’s disappearance.
He found something buried inside an old family file.
A hospital record.
Emily had given birth twenty-two years earlier.
A baby girl.
But the record said the child had died shortly after birth.
Nathan stared at the page.
“That isn’t true.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the hospital listed the baby’s name.”
He pointed to it.
The name was Lily Carter.
Our surname.
My hands went numb.
“Carter?”
Nathan nodded.
“That’s our family name.”
I looked at him.
“Then where is Lily?”
He didn’t answer.
Because at that exact moment, his phone rang.
It was his father.
Nathan answered.
His father’s voice was trembling.
“Son, your mother left something behind.”
“What?”
“A letter.”
Nathan stood completely still.
“What does it say?”
His father took a breath.
“It says Emily’s baby didn’t die.”
