My father opened the bag.
Inside were old documents, photographs, and a tiny white baby dress.
Suddenly, a hospital document slipped out.
My name was written at the top.
And underneath it was a sentence that made me grab the back of a chair.
“Confirmation of Newborn Death.”
I stared at my father.
“What is this?”
He closed his eyes.
“That day, they told us our daughter had died.”
My throat went dry.
“But I’m standing right here.”
“I know.”
“Then whose death certificate is this?”
My father remained silent.
I raised my voice.
“ANSWER ME! AM I EVEN YOUR DAUGHTER?”
He began crying.
I had never seen my father cry before.
“You are my daughter, Emily. Never doubt that.”
“Then who died?”
My father pulled a small photograph from the bag.
In the picture were two newborn baby girls lying side by