I Was Told My Newborn Had Died—Then My Eight-Year-Old Son Asked Why Daddy Had Paid Aunt Rachel to Take the Crying Bundle

“Here?”

“That’s a good place.”

“Can it see her?”

“Yes.”

He arranged it carefully, then stepped back to judge the angle.

The pink blanket with the stars had been documented and handled according to the investigation’s needs.

It did not need to be used every day to prove she was mine.

We had other clean blankets and safer arrangements for each part of her care.