“He never talked about his family,” she said. “He never told me who he really was, or where he came from.” She paused, her voice steady but tight with old pain.

“When things got real, he did what he always does. He ran.”

Dr. Pierce listened without interrupting, his hands clasped tight. When she finished, he looked at the baby and softened. “He has his grandmother’s nose.”

Abigail let out a small laugh through her tears, because it was the most human thing she’d heard in a long time. It reminded her that, despite everything, something real still connected all of them.

Before he left that evening, the doctor stopped at the door and looked back. “You said you have no one.”

Abigail lowered her eyes. “I thought that was true.”