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?"

She intended to return once she was safe.

Then she saw Zane again.

He was still at the hospital.

His wife—

me—

had lost a child and did not know it yet.

The next part of Zane's letter was harder.

I was out of my mind with grief.

I had just signed paperwork for the disposition of our baby's remains.

Claire was still unconscious.

Rebecca was terrified.

The social worker, Helen Ward, knew I had been helping Daniel search.

Rebecca asked me whether Claire had wanted a baby.

I said more than anything in the world.

My hands went numb.

Then:

Rebecca said, “Then let her have mine.”

I stared.

Catherine whispered:

“She chose you.”

I shook my head.

“No.”

Not because I rejected Rebecca's decision.

Because the words were too large.

Rebecca had been nineteen.

Frightened.

Alone.

Running from a man who controlled her.

That was not a simple adoption choice.