Chapter 1
I only wanted to touch my baby brother's hand.
That was all.
I wasn't trying to wake him.
I wasn't trying to pick him up.
I just wanted to see whether his tiny fingers would curl around mine.
But before I could reach the clear hospital bassinet, Claire grabbed my wrist so hard that I cried out.
"DON'T TOUCH MY BABY!"
I stumbled backward.
My purple hoodie caught against the side of the chair.
"Claire, you're hurting me!"
She tightened her grip for another second.
Then she pushed my hand away.
"How many times do I have to tell you to leave him alone?"
My eyes filled with tears.
"I just wanted to say hello."
"Well, you said hello. Now stay away."
I looked toward the baby.
He was sleeping peacefully inside his light-blue blanket.
His little face looked soft and beautiful.
He had tiny fingers.
A small nose.
And the sweetest little mouth I had ever seen.
His name was Noah.
He had been born that morning.
And I had been waiting nine months to meet him.
I was ten years old.
My name was Maya Carter.
And until that morning, I thought I was finally getting the little brother I had always wanted.
But Claire looked at me as if I had done something terrible.
"Stop crying," she snapped.
I wiped my face.
"I'm sorry."
She folded her arms.
"You're always sorry after making trouble."
I swallowed.
"I didn't mean to."
Claire rolled her eyes.
Then she said something that made my whole body go cold.
"He's not your real brother anyway."
I stared at her.
"What?"
She lifted her chin.
"You heard me."
I looked toward Noah.
Then back at Claire.
"But Daddy said—"
"Your father says plenty of things."
My lips trembled.
"Why isn't he my brother?"
Claire looked away.
For a moment, she seemed worried.
Then her expression hardened again.
"Because he belongs to me."
I felt my heart breaking.
I had spent months helping Daddy prepare Noah's nursery.
We painted the walls pale blue.
We put little stars above the crib.
I helped choose his stuffed elephant.
Daddy even let me pick his middle name.
James.
After my grandfather.
Noah James Carter.
I had practiced saying it over and over.
I imagined holding his hand when he learned to walk.
I imagined reading him bedtime stories.
I even saved my allowance to buy him a tiny yellow teddy bear.
It was still inside my backpack.
Now Claire was telling me he wasn't my brother.
I didn't understand.
My own mother had died when I was four.
For years, it was just Daddy and me.
Then he met Claire.
She had beautiful highlighted hair.
She smelled like expensive perfume.
And she always smiled whenever Daddy was watching.
When he married her two years earlier, I was excited.
I thought we were becoming a bigger family.
But Claire never seemed excited about me.
She told me I was too loud.
Too needy.
Too attached to Daddy.
She complained whenever he took me somewhere without her.
And after she became pregnant, everything got worse.
She said I shouldn't touch the baby clothes.
She said my drawings didn't belong in the nursery.
She even told me to stop calling Noah my brother.
I thought she was joking.
Now I knew she wasn't.
"Please," I whispered.
"Can I just look at him?"
Claire pointed toward the door.
"Go sit outside."
My eyes filled again.
"But Daddy told me to wait here."
"Your father isn't here."
I looked toward the hallway.
Daddy had gone to speak with a doctor.
He promised he would return soon.
I wished he would hurry.
Claire stepped closer.
"Are you going to listen?"
I moved toward the door.
Then it suddenly opened.
Daddy rushed inside wearing his tan cardigan.
"Maya?"
The moment he saw my face, his smile disappeared.
He dropped the small bag he was carrying.
"Sweetheart, what happened?"
I couldn't answer.
I just started crying harder.
He hurried toward me and knelt.
"Baby, look at me."
I tried.
His hands gently held my shoulders.
"Who made you cry?"
I looked toward Claire.
She answered before I could speak.
"Marcus, she wouldn't leave the baby alone."
Daddy frowned.
"What?"
"She kept trying to touch him after I told her not to."
I shook my head.
"That's not true!"
Claire sighed.
"See? She's already arguing."
Daddy looked at me.
"Maya, tell me what happened."
I swallowed.
"I just wanted to touch Noah's hand."
His expression softened.
"Okay."
"Then Claire grabbed me."
Daddy looked at my wrist.
There were red marks on my skin.
His face changed.
"She grabbed you?"
I nodded.
"She said Noah isn't my real brother."
The room became silent.
Daddy slowly turned toward Claire.
"What did you say?"
She looked uncomfortable.
"Oh, Marcus, don't make this dramatic."
He stood.
"Did you tell my daughter that Noah isn't her brother?"
Claire crossed her arms.
"She's being possessive."
Daddy stared at her.
"Answer me."
Claire looked away.
"I said she needed to understand boundaries."
Daddy's voice became cold.
"That wasn't the question."
I watched his face.
Something was wrong.
Something bigger than Claire being mean to me.
Daddy looked toward Noah.
Then toward a folder sitting beside Claire's bed.
I hadn't noticed it before.
He took a breath.
"Maya, come here."
I walked toward him.
He gently guided me beside the bassinet.
Noah was awake now.
His little eyes were barely open.
Daddy smiled sadly.
"Would you like to hold him?"
I stared.
"Really?"
He nodded.
"Of course."
Claire suddenly sat forward.
"Marcus, don't!"
Daddy looked at her.
"Maya can hold him safely with my help."
He checked that Noah was comfortable.
Then sat beside me in the hospital chair.
A nurse who had just entered helped position a pillow across my lap.
Daddy carefully lifted Noah and settled him against my chest while supporting his head and neck.
I held very still.
Noah made a tiny sound.
My heart felt like it might burst.
"Hi, Noah," I whispered.
"I'm Maya."
His small fingers moved.
I smiled through my tears.
"I'm your big sister."
Claire made an angry sound.
"Marcus, give me my baby!"
Daddy carefully kept one hand supporting Noah.
Then looked at her.
"Claire, we need to talk."
She frowned.
"About what?"
Daddy reached toward the bedside folder.
He removed a document.
His hands were trembling.
I noticed something strange.
He didn't look surprised by what he was holding.
He looked hurt.
Like he had been carrying the hurt for a while.
He raised the paper.
"Then explain this."
Claire froze.
Daddy looked directly into her eyes.
"The paternity test result came back."
My stomach tightened.
I didn't know much about paternity tests.
But I knew they had something to do with fathers.
Claire's face turned pale.
"What result?"
Daddy's voice cracked.
"The hospital has the report from the test we arranged before Noah was born."
He swallowed.
"It says I'm not his biological father."
I looked up.
Daddy wasn't Noah's father?
Then who was?
Claire opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Daddy stared at her.
"So whose baby is he?"
Claire looked toward the door.
I followed her eyes.
A shadow appeared beneath the doorway.
Someone was standing outside.
A man.
Tall.
Completely still.
Daddy noticed too.
He slowly turned.
I felt frightened.
I carefully handed Noah back to Daddy while the nurse helped support him.
Then I moved closer to the doorway.
May you like
Because I suddenly understood that the answer to Daddy's question might be standing right outside our hospital room.
And whatever happened next could change our family forever.
