was real.”
“In the bushes,” Desiree said softly. “Near a walking path she used to take home. You were a baby, wrapped carefully, and you had that necklace around your neck.”
I stared at her.
“That’s not possible.”
“It is,” she said. “She brought you to me first. She didn’t know what to do. There was no note, no identification. Just you… and that necklace.continue reading …
