Part 2: Before my husband passed away, he asked me to deliver a sealed letter to a woman I'd never met — after she read the first line, she looked at me and asked, "Did he tell you everything?"

The woman who'd cried beside my hospital bed after the delivery.

The woman who died ten years earlier without ever telling me the truth.

I slowly turned the photograph over.

On the back, in her handwriting, were seven words.

**ZANE MUST NEVER KNOW WHAT MARA REMEMBERS.**

I couldn't breathe.

What I remembered?

I stared at the photograph.

Then suddenly, a memory surfaced.

A hospital room.

A newborn crying.

My mother standing beside the bed.

And me begging her not to let someone take my baby.

I gripped the table.

"No..."

Emily stepped toward me.

"Mom?"

The memory became clearer.

A nurse entering the room.

Two bassinets.

My mother saying, *You have to trust me.*

And then something I'd forgotten for twenty-nine years.

I had opened my eyes before Zane arrived.

I'd seen both babies.

And I'd heard my mother say something to Dr. Voss.

*Take the wrong one. It's the only way to keep Mara alive.*