Chapter 3 - The PhotographThat night, I couldn't sleep.
Lily was asleep beside me, her little hand wrapped around the stuffed rabbit Grant had given her.
I watched her chest rise and fall.
She was my daughter.
That fact would never change.
But now another question haunted me.
Who was her biological father?
At three in the morning, I went downstairs.
Grant wasn't in bed.
I found him sitting alone in the dark, staring at an old photograph.
It showed a younger Grant standing outside a fertility clinic.
I took it from his hand.
"What is this?"
His jaw tightened.
"Something I should have told you years ago."
I turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten date.
Six years earlier.
Three months before Lily was conceived.
"You went to a fertility clinic?"
Grant nodded.
"I wanted to have children."
"With me?"
"Not yet."
I looked at him in disbelief.
"Then why were you there?"
He swallowed.
"Because I thought my only chance was donor sperm."
My hands began shaking.
"Grant... did you use a donor?"
May you like
He didn't answer immediately.
And that hesitation became another knife.
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