Lately, Dan’s late nights had become the new normal. At first, I believed his explanations—work was overwhelming, deadlines kept piling up, and he was constantly exhausted. But as the days dragged on, so did my unease. The laughter we used to share was replaced by silence. Our nightly routines turned into me waiting up alone…
I called my mom on the way, but she didn’t answer. Odd. Her house was completely dark when I arrived—no lights on, no sign of movement. I unlocked the door using my spare key, stepped inside… and froze. By the entryway sat Dan’s shoes. My heart dropped. Why was Dan here—when he said he’d be…
It was a freezing, stormy night—one of those shifts at the fire station where the hours crawl and the silence feels heavy. I was halfway through a cup of stale coffee when a faint cry pierced the quiet. My partner Joe and I rushed outside and found a newborn bundled in a flimsy blanket on…
Then, five years later, everything shifted again. One evening, there was a knock at the door. A woman stood there—tired, nervous, her voice shaking. She told me she was Leo’s biological mother. Her name was Emily. She explained that she had left him out of desperation, overwhelmed and terrified, but now she wanted a chance…
