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

then.”

Bellamy stared at me as if she could barely understand the words. “Then when?”

“When the records were processed,” I replied. “When the legal paperwork began. I saw her full name.”

Azaria.

Our youngest sister.

The one who vanished years ago.

For a moment, I was back in the hospital office with that document in my hands, staring at a name I had not continue reading …