It didn’t feel real at first—just one sharp ring of the doorbell, and then silence. I opened the door with my coffee still in hand, expecting a delivery or a mistake. Instead, there was a baby on my porch. A real baby. Small, blinking, wrapped tightly in a faded denim jacket I recognized before I even allowed myself to think. For a second, my body forgot how to move. The coffee slipped from my hand, spilling across the floor as I crouched down, my fingers trembling when I touched her cheek. Warm. Alive. Breathing. The jacket pulled the memory straight...
Continues…