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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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pending a federal investigation.”

Marcus looked entirely hollowed out. A mere ghost trapped in a dying empire.

“Maya,” he begged, his voice a pathetic, broken whisper. “Please. I’m sorry.”

I thought of the specific way he had looked at Zuri with absolute disgust because she didn’t look like him. I thought of Beatrice laughing at my profound pain. I gently continue reading …

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