with a new pho

g in a hospital room. Molly, his high school sweetheart, looked tired but

e to the world, son. We

iage, six miscarriages. Each one a tiny ghost haunting our sprawling, silent house. The d

ght giving Andrew the son he desperately wanted would fix us, would fill the void that had grown betwe

a single, pai

, Andrew. I'm s

fe, watching my husband build a family with another w

nse came

zing. Thank you for making this happen. Y

he one who outso

drew had been my rock through every miscarriage, holding me, telling me it wasn't my fault. But

the call came that s

Clark. His voice was fran

s been an accident. A bad o

dopted by one of Andrew's siblings, just after my f

pened? Is

. It's a rare type, B-negativ

art s

my blood type.

r. When I arrived at the pediatric ICU, the entire Lester clan was huddled together, their faces pale and

t are you

. I'm B-negative, A

rippled through the family.

solutel

harp, hostile.

niece, she needs blood, and I'm

Clark's wife stammered, wring

e bizarre exchange. She approached me, her expre

ou're B-n

onate for my niec

She frowned, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She glanced at th

ge direct blood donations from immediate family members, especi

in the air, t

nt to

Clark or his wife. S

alking about?" I whispe

y. "The resemblance is... uncanny. I assumed y

zzying vortex. My first miscarriage. The one eight years ago. The

. My da

e wouldn't look at me. He just stood th

knew. It wasn't a misc