He reached for Mason, who immediately clung to his father’s neck. Mason pleaded, “Dad, please help me find my brother. His name is Milo. He knows me. We were together before I was born. I could feel him.”
Trevor set him down and crouched to meet his gaze. “Buddy, you do not have a brother. But we can talk about your dreams, okay.”
Mason stepped back sharply. He stamped his foot. “I do not want to talk about dreams. I found him. I want to go back and get him.”
That night, after Mason had finally fallen asleep, Breanna sat at the dining table with an old box of hospital papers. She read the discharge documents for the thousandth time. She read the medical notes again and again, trying to decipher the handwriting.
Her vision narrowed to a faint, nearly erased pencil line near the bottom of the page.
“Twin gestation. Possible neonatal complication.”
She pressed her hand over her mouth as nausea climbed her throat. Why had no one told her. What else had been hidden. She remembered Trevor’s mother signing forms at the hospital reception desk while Breanna lay unconscious. She remembered questions she was told not to ask.