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“Sir, I found your son beside the dumpster outside your mansion,” a soaking wet little girl said as she handed over a crying baby wrapped in a black trash bag. The billionaire, declared sterile twelve years earlier, didn’t panic. He stared into the child’s eyes and asked, “Who sent you here to play this sick game?” The little girl pointed a trembling finger at the top of the grand staircase, whispering, “The lady who told us to throw him away.”

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he makes the exact same face when he gets upset. Like he’s angry at the whole world.”

Before I could wrap my mind around the impossibility resting on my sofa, the heavy brass knocker sounded again. Enter Casey, a hardened, pragmatic child welfare worker quietly summoned by Mrs. Mabel as a mandatory legal precaution. Casey’s boots dripped onto the hardwood continue reading …

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