“Please, Mrs. Foster,” Ben said quietly, stepping between us. “It was never meant to happen like this. Let us explain before you decide what you saw.” His hands were shaking, and Chloe quickly took hold of one of them. I looked from my daughter’s pale face to my husband’s, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear the music drifting down the hallway. Mark finally lowered his head and whispered, “Diane, I should have told you months ago.”

The stranger drew a trembling breath and pulled a worn photograph from her purse. It showed a young woman in a hospital gown, holding a newborn wrapped in a yellow blanket. Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. “Mom,” she said softly, “I found her last year. Her name is Rachel, and I need you to hear everything before I walk down that aisle.” Then Rachel looked at me and said, “I never meant to take anything from you.”