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

form.”

“Dawn, I can’t discuss this without proper paperwork.”

“Fine. Answer one question.”

I leaned forward.

“Did Rowan die?”

Doctor Jefferson slowly sat down.

“Rowan was critically ill.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

His hands folded together.

“He stabilized after the transfer.”

I gripped the edge of his desk.

“You told me he died.”

“I was told you understood the continue reading …