The Second Chance Life

t monitor was counting down

ayes, my husband' s manipulative childhood

nd that our son, Tommy, wasn't truly mine – he was theirs. My own baby, she revealed, wasn't stillborn, but had been gi

ing. I couldn't comprehend such calculated cruelty, and t

e from a machine. I was back in my parents' living room, staring at Mark Peterson, kneeling before me wi