My blood boiled as I watched Ethan wrap his arm around Meadow’s waist and usher their daughter out of the house. Her mother and her traitorous father followed behind them. I should be the one holding Meadow, not that bastard. She is mine. I still think about her every night.
But there was something about Fiona, Meadow's daughter, that looked familiar. The little girl and my photos from when I was small could pass as twins. She has Meadow's dark hair and green eyes. She looked nothing like Ethan. Or was I overthinking it? No, she looks like me. She must be my daughter.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” My mom’s voice came from behind me.
“About Fiona?”
“Yes, the little girl looked exactly like you when you were around her age.”
“No, Mom. It’s not possible. Fiona got her period that
