That day, I had just finished reading Evan a bedtime story and watched him drift off to sleep. A nurse doing rounds walked in, saw how close we were, and joked with a grin, "At first glance, I thought you two were actually mom and son."
I chuckled too. "No way. We don’t even look alike."
But the nurse shook her head. "It’s not always about looks. There’s just something about your vibe with him. And seriously, out of all the Smiths, only your bone marrow’s a match? I peeked at the results—ten out of ten matches. Even real biological parents don’t always line up that well."
Back then, I didn’t think much of her words. But bad timing—Lena Carter happened to drop by to stir trouble and caught that whole conversation.
The way she looked at me after that was…weird. Like confused, b
