“No.”
“Which child, Darius?”
He flinched.
That was the question nobody wanted to answer.
Caleb was legally ours.
Emotionally ours.
The child we had raised every day since birth.
But genetically, the tests indicated he was Simone and Jonathan’s biological son.
Leah was legally Simone’s.
Emotionally hers.
But genetically…
Leah was mine and Darius’s daughter.
Two embryos.
Two women.
Two babies.
Somehow exchanged.
I looked at Leah.
She was coloring silently with markers someone had given her.
A purple butterfly.
The same way I used to draw butterflies as a child.
It meant nothing.
It meant everything.
I hated myself for staring.
Then Caleb noticed.
He moved closer to me.
Possessively.
“Mom.”
I wrapped my arm around him.
“I’m right here.”
Leah looked up.
Her eyes moved between us.
Then she looked at Simone.
“Are you still my mom?”
Simone broke completely.
She pulled Leah into her arms.
