I Mourned One of My Triplets for 18 Years—Then a Box Labeled “Happy Birthday, Brothers” Exposed a Secret No One Could Imagine

read it twice.

“Decision?”

“That’s what I thought.”

His eyes moved to the copied form lying on the bed.

I grabbed my keys.

“We’re going to Doctor Jefferson.”

“Now?”

“Right now.”

Confronting Doctor Jefferson

Doctor Jefferson looked much older than I remembered.

His receptionist tried to stop us.

I held up Rowan’s bracelet.

“Tell him continue reading …