my chest. I was crying and laughing at the same time while Melissa was crying with happiness at the foot of the bed, saying that our baby was finally here. Ryan stepped up to see her for the first time. I expected him to cry or at least smile, but his expression changed the exact second he got a good look at his daughter.
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He just stared at her. Then he fixed the blanket, looked closely at the base of her spine, and said in a flat, cold voice: “I am sorry, but I cannot take her home.” For a moment, I felt as though everything around me went dead silent. Melissa stopped crying and demanded to know what the hell he meant. But Ryan refused to look at either of us. He just pointed at a small, coin-sized reddish mark right above her lower back, a classic sign
