“I FOUND A BABY WRAPPED IN MY MISSING SISTER’S BLANKET AND THE N0TE PINNED T0 IT HAD MY OWN HANDWRITING”

A desperate thought.

But desperation had become the language of my life five years ago.

I pulled the blanket away from the baby’s face.

There was a tiny reddish mark just above her left eyebrow.

I had seen that mark before.