After spending nearly a year on a remote construction site in the Canadian Rockies, Ethan Calloway was finally heading home. He had counted down the days to reunite with his wife, Rachel—his high school sweetheart and the only woman he had ever loved.
Ethan, a man with traditional values, never imagined anything could change between them. So when he landed and Rachel wasn’t at the airport, he thought she’d just gotten tied up at work. He texted her, “Just landed. Can’t wait to see you.” But there was no reply.
An hour later, Ethan arrived at their quiet suburban house. Lights were on, but something felt off. Too quiet. Too still.
Then, in the kitchen, he stopped cold.
A newborn baby lay in a bassinet on the table, wrapped in a floral blanket, staring up at him. Next to her were two notes.
The first note, written in an angry, unfamiliar hand, read:
“You had your fun. Now take responsibility for your kid.”
The second was from Rachel. She explained the baby had been left at their doorstep the day before. She admitted she’d suspected Ethan of cheating during his trips—but had also been unfaithful herself. Still, she said, leaving her with someone else’s child crossed a line.
She had filed for divorce and was gone for good. Her final words: Don’t try to find me. She had waited until Ethan’s Uber pulled in before leaving and assured him the baby hadn’t been left alone.
In shock, Ethan sat down, heart racing. “What just happened?” he muttered.
Then the baby cooed and reached for his finger. Without thinking, he offered it—and she grabbed hold.
“It’s just you and me now, huh?” he whispered.
Then came the unmistakable smell of a dirty diaper.
Panicked, he found a diaper bag filled with supplies and watched a YouTube tutorial. But reality was messier than the video. The baby wriggled, kicked, and managed to get poop on herself and on Ethan’s shirt.
Still, he got through it.
Holding her afterward, he looked into her eyes. “You’re a girl,” he said softly, the weight of it all finally settling in.