Part 2: I discovered my husband was having an affair with my best friend while we were all on the same airplane—and neither of them knew I was there. Instead of confronting them, I sent a small, beautifully wrapped gift to their seats.

My stomach tightened.

"What baby?"

Dawson hesitated.

Then answered:

"Lucy."

I could barely breathe.

"He said he'd found out something about the fertility clinic."

My heart hammered.

"What?"

Dawson took a shaky breath.

"That the embryo used in your treatment might not have belonged to you and Ryan."

The room went silent.

I stared at my mother's bed.

At the photographs.

At every message Ryan had sent.

Then Dawson whispered one final sentence.

"Claire, the DNA test wasn't how I learned Lucy might be my daughter."

My voice trembled.

"Then how?"

He began sobbing.

"Because I was a donor at that same clinic."

My hand went numb.

The phone nearly slipped from my fingers.

Then Dawson continued.

"And Megan was too."

I stopped breathing.

"What?"

His voice broke.

"Claire, Ryan told me the clinic made a mistake with both pregnancies."

I stared at the photograph of Elliot.

The boy Megan had hidden.