In one corner, just visible above the fabric, was a small crescent-shaped mark near her shoulder.

Chloe had a mark like that.

I could barely breathe.

“Please don’t tell me she’s ours just because you want her to be,” Camilla said.

“I have survived seven years without a certain answer.

I need the next answer to be real.” I nodded.

“Then we’ll find the real answer, however hard it is.” For the first time, she looked less guarded.

Not hopeful yet.