I Carried a Baby for My Twin Sister—But the Moment She Saw the Newborn, She Stepped Back and Said, “This Is Not the Child We Wanted”

I was angry.

Then relieved.

Then angry at myself for feeling relieved.

Therapy again.

I wanted Samantha to regret what she had done.

But I also wanted Daisy protected from someone whose interest could switch on and off according to shame.

Those desires did not fit neatly.

PART 48 — THE BLACK SEDAN

Daisy was three when Samantha appeared at my house.

Gray afternoon.