After nearly a year working on a remote construction project in the Canadian Rockies, Ethan Calloway was finally heading home.
He had counted down the days to see Rachel, his high school sweetheart and the love of his life. Ethan always thought of himself as a simple man with old-fashioned values. Rachel was the only woman he’d ever loved—or been with—and in his heart, that wouldn’t change.
So when his plane landed and Rachel wasn’t at the gate, Ethan thought it was just a work delay. Maybe stuck at the office. He sent her a text: “Just landed. Can’t wait to see you.” No reply.
An hour later, Ethan stood outside their cozy suburban home, duffel bag in hand. The lights were on inside, but the house felt too quiet, too still.
Inside the kitchen, he froze.
There in the middle of the table was a baby in a bassinet. A newborn, wrapped in a floral blanket, blinking at him like she’d just dropped from the sky. Ethan was stunned—until he noticed two notes beside the baby.
The first was written in bold, unfamiliar handwriting:
“You had your fun. Now take responsibility for your kid.”
The second was from Rachel.
Ethan,
This baby showed up on our doorstep yesterday with that note. I always suspected you fooled around on those trips, but I never pushed it—because honestly, I wasn’t exactly faithful myself. But leaving me with someone else’s baby? That’s where I draw the line.
I’ve filed for divorce. I’m gone. Don’t try to find me.
P.S. I waited until I saw your Uber pull in before I left. Don’t worry—the baby isn’t alone. Enjoy your life. I plan to enjoy mine.
Ethan sank into a chair, heart pounding, overwhelmed. “What the hell just happened?”
A soft hiccup pulled his attention. The baby stretched out a chubby arm toward him. He reached out, and her tiny hand grabbed his finger.
He stared down at her. “Guess it’s just you and me now, huh?”
Suddenly, a foul smell filled the air.
“Oh no.”
Frantically, Ethan found a diaper bag on the floor. Bottles, clothes, diapers—a chaotic mess. He googled “how to change a diaper,” watching a cheerful woman on YouTube demonstrate on a lifeless doll.
Reality was far messier. The baby kicked and squirmed, somehow getting poop on her foot—and Ethan’s shirt. But he managed.
When he finished, he smiled. “You’re a girl,” he whispered, finally taking it in. “Well, kiddo, I may not know much about raising a daughter, but I can sure teach you how to change a tire.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “You need someone. I guess I do too.”
As she gazed up with those big, trusting eyes, something inside Ethan shifted. “Okay then. I’m your dad now.”
In the weeks after, Ethan named her Mira and filed for custody. Mira Calloway. Her birthday was the day he found her—the day his life changed forever.
Over the next two years, Ethan became everything to Mira: midnight feedings, doctor visits, daycare runs. She was the center of his world.
But on Mira’s second birthday, everything threatened to fall apart.
A woman rang his doorbell. Tall, bleach-blonde, with plastic-perfect features and overdrawn lips.
“I’ve come for my baby,” she said, stepping into his yard like she owned the place.
Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”
“My daughter,” she said, irritated. “I left her here two years ago by accident. I meant to leave her with someone else…”
