My siblings mocked me as a “crazy old woman” for adopting a newborn—until they saw the birth certificate and broke down in tears.

Selene could drop it. He stared at the page, and his mouth twisted as if the name printed there had punched the breath out of him.

Then he said it.

“Azaria.”

The room seemed to fold in on itself.

Lily stirred in her bassinet, making a soft little sound in her sleep. All of us turned toward her.

Bellamy covered her mouth. “That’s not possible.”

“It is,” I continue reading …