“It was a storm,” Sister Agnes said. “A basket left at the door. A baby wrapped in a heavy jacket. I saw a man run toward a van. He was limping badly. Before he drove away, he shouted a prayer for forgiveness.”
Trevor shifted uneasily. Gregory said nothing. The call ended. Hours later, the phone rang. Dr. Callahan spoke with a trembling voice.
“The test confirms paternity,” he said. “Vanessa is your daughter.”
Trevor dropped his pen. Vanessa covered her mouth. Gregory walked toward her and sank to his knees.
“My daughter,” he whispered. “I thought you were gone before you took your first breath.”
Vanessa stared at him, shock flooding every memory she had ever built about herself.
“I was never wanted,” she said. “That is what I believed.”
Gregory shook his head.
“You were wanted more than life itself,” he replied. “Your mother died protecting you. Someone took you from the wreck before rescue arrived. I searched for years and found nothing.”
Tears rolled down Vanessa’s face. “Then I am not a mistake,” she said.
Gregory reached for her hands. “You are the reason I never stopped breathing,” he answered.