She didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on the baby’s back. Ryan had moved toward the window. His hands were pressed against the glass, and his shoulders were shaking. I had never seen my brother look like that. Not when our parents died. Not when he lost his job years earlier. Not even during the years of failed fertility treatments. He looked terrified. Not surprised. Not confused. Terrified. A nurse gently touched my shoulder. “Ma’am, can I take a look?” I hesitated. Then I nodded. She carefully examined the mark. Her expression changed. “Has this been documented?”
“What do you mean?” I asked. The nurse looked at me. “I mean, was this visible during the prenatal scans?” “No,” I said immediately. “The doctors never mentioned anything.” She glanced toward Ryan. “Mr. Carter?” Ryan didn’t turn around. “Ryan?” Finally, he looked over his shoulder. His face was wet with tears. “No,” he whispered. The nurse frowned. “Then the pediatrician should examine it immediately.” She reached for the baby. Before she could take her, Ryan suddenly spoke. “Don’t.”
Everyone froze.
The nurse looked at him.
“Sir?”
“Don’t take her.”
His voice was barely audible.
The nurse stepped back.
Ryan walked toward us slowly.
He looked at the baby.
Then at me.
Then at Melissa.
“I knew this might happen.”
My heart dropped.
“What do you mean you knew?”
Ryan said nothing.
I stared at him.
“You knew?”
He closed his eyes.
“Not exactly.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
Something inside me snapped.
“You can’t?”
My voice rose.
“You just watched me give birth to your child, Ryan. You told me you couldn’t take her home. You pointed at her back like you were looking at something horrifying, and now you’re telling me you can’t explain it?”
Ryan looked down.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
He didn’t answer.
Melissa suddenly stepped between us.
“Ryan.”
He looked at her.
“You promised me.”
His face crumpled.
“What?”
“You promised you would never hide anything from me again.”
Ryan swallowed.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You already have.”
Melissa’s voice broke.
She looked at the baby.
Then at her husband.
“What does that mark mean?”
Ryan stared at the floor.
“It means somebody knew she was coming.”
The room became silent.
I felt cold despite the warmth of the hospital.
“What?”
Ryan lifted his eyes.
“That mark isn’t a birthmark.”
Melissa shook her head.
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said somebody knew she was coming.”
“I said it wasn’t a birthmark.”
“Ryan!”
He flinched.
Then he reached into the pocket of his jacket.
His hand trembled as he pulled out his phone.
“I received something three months ago.”
He unlocked the screen.
“I thought it was a threat.”
He handed the phone to me.
There was a photograph.
An old photograph.
It showed a woman standing beside a newborn baby.
The picture looked decades old.
The edges were faded and damaged.
I stared at it.
Then my stomach dropped.
Because the woman in the photograph looked familiar.
Too familiar.
I zoomed in.
Her face was young, but there was no mistaking her.
It was our mother.
My hands began shaking.
“Where did you get this?”
Ryan looked away.
“It was mailed to me.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at the photograph again.
Our mother was holding the newborn against her chest.
But there was something else.
The baby had a mark on its back.
The exact same mark.
My mouth went dry.
“Ryan…”
He nodded.
“I know.”
I looked at the photograph.
Then at the baby in my arms.
Then back at him.
“That can’t be possible.”
Ryan whispered,
“I thought the same thing.”
Melissa slowly sat down.
She looked completely broken.
“Your mother had another baby?”
Ryan didn’t answer.
I stared at him.
“Our mother was pregnant with twins.”
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
“You know that.”
Ryan nodded.
“Everyone knows that.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You don’t understand.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Then make me understand.”
Ryan took a deep breath.
“When we were kids, Mom told us you and I were born together.”
“Yes.”
“But she lied.”
The words seemed to echo around the room.
I couldn’t breathe.
“What are you saying?”
Ryan looked at me.
“Our birth records were changed.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“I found the original records six months ago.”
“Where?”
“In Dad’s old storage unit.”
My heart began pounding.
“What did they say?”
Ryan’s eyes filled with tears.
“They said there was another baby.”
I looked down at the newborn.
“No.”
“A girl.”
My fingers tightened around the blanket.
“Ryan…”
“She was born eleven minutes before us.”
I couldn’t speak.
Ryan continued.
“She was alive.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“She was healthy.”
Melissa stared at him.
“Then where is she?”
Ryan looked at me.
“That was the question I couldn’t answer.”
The baby began crying.
A sharp, fragile cry.
I instinctively pulled her closer.
Ryan looked at her.
His face became pale again.
“The photograph came with a note.”
“What note?”
He took another piece of paper from his pocket.
It was folded several times.
He handed it to me.
I opened it.
There were only six words.
SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE.
I stopped breathing.
Melissa began crying again.
“Who would send something like that?”
Ryan shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
I looked at the baby’s mark.
Then at the photograph.
Something wasn’t adding up.
If our mother had another baby…
If that baby had the same mark…
Then why was our newborn carrying it?
Unless—
My thoughts stopped.
A terrible possibility entered my mind.
“Ryan.”
He looked at me.
“Where is the original birth record?”
He hesitated.
“At home.”
“Go get it.”
“What?”
“Go get it.”
I could hear the fear in my own voice.
“I want to see it.”
Ryan shook his head.
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody already broke into our house.”
Melissa looked up sharply.
“What?”
Ryan stared at her.
“Two nights ago.”
Her face went white.
“You never told me.”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing was stolen.”
“Then why are you saying someone broke in?”
Ryan looked at me.
“Because they didn’t take anything.”
He paused.
“They only went through the nursery.”
Melissa stood.
“What?”
Ryan nodded.
“They opened the crib.”
My stomach twisted.
“Did they touch anything?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then he whispered,
“They left something.”
“What?”
