The Photograph of a Newborn in a Yellow Knitted Hat
“Tell me her name.”
“She’s not his,” Rebecca said, and her voice cracked on the word his, which told me she was lying.
“She’s mine.
She’s always been mine.”
She stepped back inside and closed the door.
The lock turned with a click I felt in my teeth.
I stood on the porch for another minute.
A curtain moved in the upstairs window.