Right after delivery, my husband smirked at the newborn: “We need a DNA test to be sure it’s mine.” I held the baby tightly, tears in my eyes, and whispered, “Fine, let’s do it.” Days later, the doctor stared at the lab results with a pale face and said, “Ma’am, call the police right now.”

against my chest. My trembling hands tore away the fleece blanket.

Staring up at me were two wide, startled eyes. A tiny, perfect face framed by wisps of dark hair. He let out a loud, indignant wail at the cold air and the noise.

It was a sound more beautiful than any symphony ever composed. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling the sweet, uncorrupted continue reading …