I was still recovering from a long, exhausting delivery when my husband finally walked into the hospital room and leaned over our newborn daughter.

Rebecca gently touched the edge of Emily’s blanket.

“Grace had exactly the same birthmark.”

Suddenly, Daniel’s reaction made sense.

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He hadn’t doubted our daughter.

He had seen something that reminded him of the little girl he had lost.

“But why hide this from me?” I asked quietly.

Daniel knelt beside my  hospital bed.

“Because I was terrified you’d think I was still living in the past. When you became pregnant, I wanted to believe I could start over. I thought keeping the memories buried would make it easier.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks.

“You should have trusted me.”

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“I know,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry.”

Then I looked toward Rebecca.

“How did you know we were here?”

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“Daniel called me during the delivery. He was terrified of losing you both. It was the first time he’d called me in years.”

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