Chapter 1
My best friend's three-year-old son had the exact same eyes as my husband.
I held little Lucas in my arms and watched him smile.
The curve of his smile, the shape of his eyes, and even the way they crinkled when he laughed were just like my husband's.
"What's wrong?" Lucas asked.
My own voice trembled. "Nothing."
I set him down and watched him run straight to Emily Carter, my best friend of twenty years.
She scooped Lucas up and smiled at me. "See how much he loves you."
I smiled back.
But my palms were drenched in sweat.
*****
Emily and I met back in middle school.
We had been best friends for twenty years, ever since we were thirteen.
When I got married, she was my maid of honor.
When she had a rough delivery and started bleeding badly, I was the first one at the hospital.
Three years ago, out of the blue, she told me she was pregnant.
"Who's the father?" I asked.
She just smiled, staying silent.
"You're not going to tell me?" I pushed.
"It's not important," she said, her hand resting on her belly. "I can handle this myself."
Back then, I thought she was pretty badass.
A single mom, strong and self-reliant.
I helped her find the best OB-GYN money could buy.
I went with her to every appointment, no matter what.
Whenever she was hit with morning sickness, I was always there, cooking porridge for her.
When she went into labor, I was right there with her in the delivery room.
"I'll pay you back someday, I promise," she said, lying in the hospital bed and squeezing my hand.
"Come on, what are friends for?" I said with a smile.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"You're the best friend I've ever had in my life," she whispered.
I cried too.
I believed her.
That month after she gave birth, I was at her place almost every single day.
I cooked nourishing soups, tidied up, and even washed the baby's diapers.
My husband, Michael, said I was doing way too much.
"It's not like she's got nobody," Michael said.
"Her parents don't live here, she's all by herself. If I don't help her, who will?" I replied.
Michael didn't say anything else.
At the baby's one-month celebration, I gave Lucas a set of gold locks and bracelets worth over thirty thousand dollars.
Emily held Lucas in her arms and encouraged him to call me.
"Say 'Godmother'," Emily coaxed.
Lucas just babbled, drool dripping down his chin.
I took him in my arms, feeling my heart turn to mush. 'How could anyone not love this little guy?
"From now on, I will buy you whatever snacks you want, all the toys you could dream of, and I'll even pay for your school," I promised.
Emily stood nearby, her eyes crinkling with a big smile.
"You treat him better than his own mom," she said.
Back then, I honestly thought this was the realest friendship ever.
When Lucas turned one, Emily moved to a new place.
The new neighborhood was just a ten-minute walk from my house.
"This way, it's easier for you to come see Lucas," she said.
I didn't think much of it.
Sometimes, when Emily had to work late, she'd drop Lucas off at my place.
At first, Michael found it a bit of a hassle.
"Again?" he'd grumble.
"Just a few hours, can you watch him for me?" I'd say.
But after a while, he didn't mind it anymore.
He even started asking, "Lucas not coming over today?"
"Emily's not working late today," I'd reply.
He'd just go, "Oh," and look back at his phone.
Now that I thought about it, was he texting her all along?
For Lucas's second birthday, I gave him a fat stack of cash.
When he was two and a half, I paid 6,000 dollars to enroll him in an early education class.
Emily kept saying she felt bad about it, but I just waved it off.
"Raising a kid on your own isn't easy. Let me help you out," I said.
She looked at me, her eyes filling with tears.
"I really don't know how to thank you," she said.
"Don't say that," I replied.
I truly meant every word.
I didn't have kids of my own.
We'd been married for five years, but it just never happened.
Michael always said there was no rush, that we should just let things happen naturally.
My mother-in-law looked more and more displeased, but she never said anything to my face.
In a way, Lucas filled the void in my heart.
I loved him like he was my own son.
But what I didn't know was that he might actually be my husband's biological son.
Things started to change when Lucas turned three.
One day, I went over to Emily's place to pick up Lucas, and there he was, chowing down on a big slice of watermelon.
Red juice was running down his chin.
He looked up at me and grinned.
For a second, I just froze.
That grin, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled and that unconscious head tilt looked exactly like Michael.
Maybe I was just imagining thing
Kids all kind of looked alike.
But after that day, I just couldn't help but pay extra attention to him.
As for, Lucas's ears, Michael's ears had that same shape, with a little point at the top.
And Lucas's fingers, they were long and slender, just like Michael's.
Whenever Lucas got mad, he'd purse his lips.
Michael had the exact same habit.
Maybe it was a fluke the first time.
But what about the third, fourth, or even the fifth time?
I couldn't sleep at all.
That night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning.
Michael was already fast asleep.
I looked at his face in the dark, and suddenly, he felt like a complete stranger to me.
I quietly picked up his phone.
He never set a password on his phone. We'd always trusted each other.
I opened up his message and found the chat window with Emily.
The last message was from three days ago.
Emily had written, "Lucas has a cold. Can you come over and check on him?"
Michael had replied, "Sure, I'll come by tomorrow."
That was it.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
I kept scrolling back, checking the older messages.
Just regular, everyday stuff.
Nothing flirty, nothing suspicious.
I let out a sigh of relief.
Guess I was just imagining things.
Yeah, that's gotta be it.
The next day, Emily called me.
"Sophia, Lucas misses you. Want to come over for dinner tonight?" she asked.
"Sure," I replied.
I hung up and saw Michael standing in the doorway.
"Heading over to Emily's?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"I'll come with you," he said. "I can bring Lucas a toy."
He used to complain about it, and now he actually wants to go?
I just looked at him, not saying a word.
He smiled. "What's up?"
"Nothing," I said.
I looked away.
I told myself not to overthink it.
At dinner, Lucas sat right next to Michael.
Michael kept putting food on his plate and wiping his mouth for him.
"Uncle Michael is so nice," Lucas said.
Emily laughed. "Michael dotes on Lucas even more than you do, Sophia."
Michael shrugged. "Kids, you know; everyone likes them."
I just focused on my food, not saying a word.
But I couldn't stop watching them.
I watched Michael, the way he served Lucas dish after dish.
I watched Lucas, how he ate his food.
I watched their profiles as they sat together.
It was uncanny how much they looked alike.
Seriously, it was almost scary.
Emily suddenly spoke up. "Sophia, are you okay? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine, just a little tired," I said.
She looked at me, worried. "Why don't you go home and rest?"
"I'm okay, really," I replied.
I forced a smile.
But inside, I was freaking out.
On the way home, I glanced at Michael, my mind racing with questions.
"How long have you known Emily?" I asked.
He looked a bit surprised. "Didn't I meet her through you? It's been about six years, I think."
"Do you guys talk much?" I pressed.
"Not really. Just when she needs help with her computer or something," he replied.
"You're really good with Lucas."
He smiled. "He's just a likable kid."
I just kept quiet.
When we got home, he went to take a shower.
I slumped onto the couch, zoning out at the wall.
Fixing her computer, huh?
Has Emily ever actually asked him to fix her computer?
Why didn't I ever hear about that?
That night, I couldn't sleep at all.
At three in the morning, I got up and grabbed Michael's phone again.
This time, I went through everything with a fine-tooth comb.
Nothing on Facebook.
Nothing in his text messages.
Then I checked his call history
I froze.
He'd been calling Emily.
There were way more calls than I ever expected.
At least three or four times a week.
Sometimes they'd talk for just a few minutes, other times for half an hour.
But on Facebook, there was nothing to see; they only ever sent voice messages, never texted.
I put his phone back and got back into bed.
Staring up at the ceiling.
Stayed that way until sunrise.
I started paying attention to even the tiniest details.
At Emily's place, there was a photo of Lucas from his hundred-day celebration—a tradition for babies.
I leaned in close, checking out his eyebrows.
They were thick, almost joined together in the middle, just like Michael's.
And then there was that tiny dimple.
It only popped up on his left cheek whenever he smiled.
Michael had the exact same dimple.
I asked Emily, "Who did Lucas inherit that dimple from?"
She hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "I don't know. Maybe he takes after his dad."
"Does his dad have a dimple?" I asked.
"I don't remember," Emily replied. "It's been ages since we went our separate ways."