The realization crashed over me: Lucy is my daughter—she’s the child I adopted—but she is also my half‑sister. My mother, Mara, is the one who placed her with the agency, shielding us both.
Jason’s video ended, the screen black. Behind the glass, the hospital clock ticked down the minutes left before Lucy’s heart surgery was to begin.
“What do we do?” Elena asked, desperation raw in her voice.
I looked at the phone, at the empty hallway where Jason’s betrayal lingered, at the tiny hand that clutched my jacket. Expose Jason and risk everything, keep Lucy with Elena and lose my mother’s secret, or find Mara and let her protect us both.
Lucy’s breathing was shallow, the monitor’s beeps growing slower. My decision would decide not just who raised her, but who survived the lie that had kept us apart for nine years.
