Erased Identity
Language: en
On my daughter’s sixth birthday, just as I was about to cut the cake, an emergency call from my department head shattered the moment. I had to get back to the ER, immediately. He said the patient was the son of a Manhattan heiress, in shock from an acute asthma attack. He insisted I handle it personally, that there could be no mistakes. I pulled on my gloves, a bitter laugh caught in my throat. The Manhattan heiress… wasn't that my wife of eight years, Seraphina Croft? But we only had one child, an eight-year-old daughter. Where did a three-year-old son come from? After three hours of…