I turned my head and whispered, « Where’s the other baby? »
Mark lowered his eyes. « He didn’t make it. »
After that, I poured all my love into Cole.
I never saw a body. I never attended a funeral. Mark said he had handled everything while I was unconscious. I believed him because I had no strength left for anything else.
After that, I poured all my love into Cole. He was loud, funny, stubborn, and I told myself grief had an afterlife, and this was mine.
Mark changed after the birth. He became quieter and more careful about what he told me. If I asked about the funeral, he said he could not bear to describe it again. I took his distance for grief because I did not know it was guilt.
« He keeps saying we have the same dad but different moms. It’s so annoying. »
By the time Cole started elementary school, our life looked steady again. Then he came home one evening, threw his backpack on the floor, and snapped, « Stefan called me his brother again. »
