infertility diagnosis and divorce, Raymond had secretly used a private agency and paid for a surrogate.
He had arranged for the twins to be born.
Then he created the story I had believed for twenty years.
The basket.
The porch.
The mysterious disappearance.
Even the path that placed them into foster care.
“He knew you wouldn’t accept the babies if you thought he was giving them to you,” Noah explained. “He wanted you to choose us yourself.”
I felt sick.
Raymond had watched me discover those babies.
He had watched
