As Ethan grew, his features became more defined, but the mystery of his heritage remained unsolved. He had my nose and eyes, but his skin remained a beautiful, deep bronze. Jeremy never asked for a DNA test; he loved Ethan as if the boy carried his own blood from day one.
One evening, while Jeremy was helping Ethan build a Lego tower, he looked up at me and smiled. “He’s a brilliant kid, Theresa,” he said softly. “Whatever happened in the past doesn’t change the fact that he’s a gift.” That was the night I realized I was finally falling in love again.
However, the shadow of Noah still loomed in the back of my mind like a dormant virus. I often wondered if he ever felt a pang of regret or if he had simply moved on to a new life. I had no idea that while I was building a future, Noah was spiraling into a world of his own making.
Jeremy proposed to me on Ethan’s fifth birthday, hiding the ring inside a giant chocolate cake. We got married in a small ceremony in my sister’s backyard. For fifteen years, we lived a life of quiet peace, and Ethan grew into a talented, confident young man heading for college.
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