“I FOUND A BABY WRAPPED IN MY MISSING SISTER’S BLANKET AND THE N0TE PINNED T0 IT HAD MY OWN HANDWRITING”

There were only six words.

MOM, SHE IS YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER. DON’T TRUST DAD.

For a moment, the world seemed to tilt beneath me. I stared at the message, reading it once, then again, desperately hoping I had misunderstood something. But the words remained exactly where they were, black against the screen, each one cutting deeper than the last.