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The delivery room fell silent.
Dr. Robert Wright stood motionless, staring at the tiny infant in the nurse’s arms. Around him, the medical staff exchanged confused glances. None of them had ever seen the respected physician lose his composure.
“Doctor?” one of the nurses asked carefully.
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he stepped closer to the baby, his hands trembling ever so slightly.
“May I… may I hold him?” he asked softly.
The nurse looked uncertain but gently placed the newborn into his arms.
Dr. Wright’s eyes filled with tears.
There, on the baby’s left shoulder, was a tiny birthmark shaped almost exactly like a crescent moon.
His breathing became uneven.
“No…” he whispered.
“It can’t be.”
Joanna watched nervously from the hospital bed.
“Is something wrong with my son?”
The doctor quickly shook his head.
“No… no, he’s perfectly healthy.”
His voice cracked.
“But… I need to ask you something.”
Joanna’s heart began racing.
“Anything.”
Dr. Wright pulled a chair beside her bed.
“What was the father’s name?”
She hesitated.
“Logan Wright.”
The doctor’s face turned pale.
“My son.”
The room became completely still.
Joanna blinked.
“What?”
“I’m Robert Wright.”
“The baby’s grandfather.”
The words struck Joanna harder than any contraction she had endured.
“You… you’re Logan’s father?”
He slowly nodded.
“I am.”
She looked away, tears immediately filling her eyes.
“He never wanted this baby.”
Robert closed his eyes.
“I didn’t know.”
“He never told us.”
Joanna laughed bitterly.
“He disappeared the night I told him I was pregnant.”
“I haven’t seen him since.”
Robert lowered his head in shame.
“I’m so sorry.”
“If I had known…”
She interrupted quietly.
“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“I had to learn how to survive.”
She glanced toward her sleeping son.
“And somehow…”
“I did.”
For several minutes neither of them spoke.
Finally Robert asked,
“May I tell you why I froze?”
Joanna nodded.
He smiled sadly.
“Thirty years ago my wife gave birth to twin boys.”
“Logan…”
“And another little boy named Lucas.”
Her eyes widened.
“Twins?”
Robert nodded.
“Lucas died three days after birth.”
“Or at least…”
“That’s what we were told.”
Joanna frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Robert swallowed hard.