For thirty-four years, I had believed the most frightening thing that could happen to a marriage was death.
I was wrong.
Death ended conversations.
Secrets brought them back.
I sat in Catherine's living room with Zane's letter open across my knees and stared at the woman who had just told me the impossible.
“Say it again.”
Catherine's face crumpled.
“I don't know enough to say it.”
“You said Zane chose us to adopt Emily.”
“That's what he wrote.”
“I did not adopt my daughter.”
My voice rose.
“I gave birth to her.”
Catherine recoiled.
“I believe you.”
“No, you don't understand.”
I stood.
“I was there.”
“I labored seventeen hours.”
“I screamed at Zane because he kept telling me to breathe.”
“I remember the doctor.”
“The lights.”
“The nurse putting a baby in my arms the next morning.”
I touched my chest.
“Emily slept right here.”
Catherine began crying.
“I don't know what happened in that room.”
