My best friend had a baby when she was 16. She never told anyone who the father was, and I never asked. As the years went by, I grew close to her son, Thomas. One day, while I was babysitting him, I noticed a birthmark that looked exactly like the one that runs in my family.
My best friend, Sarah, and I had always been close. We shared everything – our hopes, our fears, and our silly secrets. But there was one thing Sarah never told me, and I never asked. She had a baby at 16, a little boy named Thomas, and no one knew who the father was. Sarah kept that to herself.
Over the years, I had grown close to Thomas, like an aunt, always there for him, watching him grow up, being a steady presence in his life.
But there was always a part of Sarah’s story that she kept hidden, and I respected that. It was her secret, and I didn’t need to know.
But as the years went by, I couldn’t help but notice little things that seemed… familiar. It wasn’t anything obvious at first. Just tiny details here and there that would pop up from time to time, making me question things. Thomas had the same laugh as Sarah, the same mischievous glint in his eyes when he was up to something. But it wasn’t until one afternoon, while I was babysitting Thomas, that I noticed something that completely stopped me in my tracks.
We were playing in the living room when Thomas bent down and the birthmark on his shoulder — the same unmistakable one passed down through my family — made the truth settle heavy in my chest: the secret Sarah had been protecting all these years wasn’t about a stranger at all… it was about me.