Opening the trunk of my car, I keep staring at it with a sullen gaze, my hand instinctively reaching for my belly. The madness to take revenge on everyone who hurt my son intensifies each time I look at the empty space inside. I know everything was a lie. I’ve checked twice, thrice, and countless times, hoping to find him. But he wasn’t there.
My heart aches, yet there’s a strange happiness bubbling inside me, a joy at the chance I’ve been given. A chance I never thought possible. I keep thanking God for sending me back to this time, to when Asher is growing inside me. This means I can rebuild his life, make it safe and warm from the very start.
I grab the shopping bag filled with 25 hydrangea plants and a bouquet of gardenias. Asher loves gardenias. Closing the trunk, I walk toward the
