“This is Ethan. I’ve found a baby girl — an abandoned infant — in the elevator of my building. She’s alive, but she’s alone.
I think… I think someone left her here on purpose. I’m going to take her back to my apartment.
Here is my address…”
As I waited for help to arrive, I pulled her close. Her breathing steadied, and eventually, one small hand found the edge of my collar and clung to it like she had known me her entire life.
“You’re safe now,” I whispered. “I’ve got you.”
And somehow, I meant it.
Eight weeks earlier, I had lost a child.
At least, that’s what I’d believed. Her name was supposed to be Lily — my delicate and beautiful flower.
Lauren, my fiancée at the time, and I had been together for four years. She was everything I’d ever wanted in my partner: brilliant, ambitious, and effortlessly captivating.
Continue reading…
