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The moment the newborn was handed to her, the husband stormed into the hospital room, stared at the baby’s unusually white skin, and sneered, “Why is she White? You really think I’ll believe she’s mine?” He demanded an immediate divorce before the doctor could explain the baby’s rare pigmentation condition. She signed the papers without begging. Three weeks later, the DNA test proved he was indeed the father-and the final divorce decree revealed that by walking away, he had just legally forfeited…

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in my arms. I gently brushed a thumb across her velvet cheek.

“Her name is Zuri,” I whispered to the frigid, empty space between us.

Marcus did not bother to ask what the name meant. He merely snatched the folder, pivoted on his leather heel, and marched out the door with his mother trailing behind him like a devoted, sycophantic shadow.

As the heavy continue reading …

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