I said yes to one night of babysitting and uncovered a truth hidden for eight years. Kelly, a mom since sixteen, asked me to watch her son Thomas. I agreed without hesitation, though Ryan scoffed. “Why babysit someone else’s kid for free?” he muttered. I left anyway. Thomas greeted me like sunshine. We played, ate pizza, and he fell asleep mid-laugh. Carrying him upstairs, his shirt lifted. A birthmark—a small crescent I’d kissed countless times on Ryan—stopped me cold. Looking closer, I saw Ryan’s face in his.
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