They took Milo’s hand and walked to the nearest community hospital. The receptionist, a middle aged woman named Eileen Romero, listened as Breanna explained, voice wavering, about a lost medical record and a possible twin.
Eileen studied the screen, brows furrowing. “There is a record for a child born here that night. Paper files only. And some pages are missing. I will check the archive.”
They waited outside her office, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. After a long while, Eileen returned holding a thin folder. She whispered, “Someone requested to alter this file. The signature is smudged, but it matches the initials of your mother in law.”
Trevor’s breath left him like a punctured tire. “My mom. Why would she do something like this.”
Breanna felt cold from the inside out. “I am going to ask her myself.”
Trevor’s mother lived in an adobe style home on the edge of town. Wind chimes tinkled across the porch. She opened the door with a polite smile that shattered when she saw Milo.
Her hand flew to her chest. “Where did you find him.”
Breanna’s voice shook. “In the plaza. Selling trinkets. Why did you hide him from me. Why did you take my child.”