My Point of View

I was still in the apartment. Everything was too still. I stood in the doorway of Aiden's tiny bedroom, watching the boy sleep, his small chest going up and down in a rhythm. The apartment glowed with a warm golden light from the nightlight, everything appearing unmarred, which I knew would not stay that way. The DNA results hung over me, heavy, relentless, and felt like a weight in my pocket.

Marcus's son. I gritted my teeth and breathed slowly, through my nose. This was not a shock. Perhaps I had sensed it in my heart. Aiden inherited a strong jawline from Marcus and the same...