Her expression changed.
“Elliot
is five.”
We stared at each other.
The restaurant noise faded.
“No,” she whispered.
I pulled out my phone and reopened the airline email.
ELLIOT COLE.
AGE FIVE.
I had assumed the benefits file was accurate.
Why wouldn’t I?
Vanessa reached into her bag and removed her wallet.
She pulled out a small school photograph.
A smiling boy with sandy hair stared at the camera.
“He turns six next month.”
I looked at Mason.
Then at the photograph.
The resemblance was obvious.
The same eyes.
The same chin.
The same small notch in one eyebrow.
But twins could not be born almost two years apart.
Vanessa whispered, “Tyler told me Elliot was born two years after the twins.”
My stomach twisted.
“What?”
She looked pale.
“He said the pregnancy with the twins was too traumatic. We broke up for good afterward. Then a few years later we briefly got back
