I felt my hands shaking.
“What happened next?”
“A week later they called me,” he said quietly. “The baby was still alive.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I couldn’t watch you lose another child,” he said, his voice breaking. “The social worker said a couple wanted to adopt him if he survived. I thought… if he died, you’d never know. And if he lived, at least he’d have a chance.”
“So you erased him,” I whispered.
Mark didn’t answer.
I stood up slowly.
“The boy next door…”
Mark nodded.
“It must be him.”
We walked across the lawn together and knocked on the neighbor’s door again.
This time the woman opened it and immediately recognized me.
Her face drained of color.
“Nineteen years ago,” I said carefully, “did you adopt a baby boy through the hospital placement program?”
Behind her, Ryan appeared in the hallway.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Mark looked directly at him.
“When’s your birthday?”
Ryan answered.
It was the same day Lucas had been born.
An older man stepped into the hallway beside them and sighed heavily.
“We always wondered if this day would come,” he said.
They invited us inside and explained everything.