I became a surrogate for my twin brother—but when he held his newborn daughter for the first time, his face went pale, and he whispered, “I can’t take her home.” Then he told us to look at her back… and the truth that came out days later left me shaking

Hope was asleep in a bassinet near the window.

Gabriel was down the hall in his room beneath his favorite dinosaur blanket.

I stood in the kitchen wearing sweatpants, my hair pulled into a messy knot, surviving on almost no sleep.

Ryan still looked as though he hadn’t recovered from the hospital.

I folded my arms.

“You don’t get to walk into my house as though nothing happened.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“Ivy, please. Just let me explain.”

I stared at him.

“Explain what? I’ve been feeding and comforting the daughter you spent six years praying for because you handed her to me and walked away.”

He flinched.

Part of me was glad.

I wanted him to understand the weight of what he had done.

Ryan rubbed both hands over his face.

“The doctors mentioned surgery,” he said. “Therapy. Specialists. Maybe braces. Years of appointments.”

“And?”

“I panicked.”

“She’s your child.”