Finally, worn down by the years of yearning, they made a new kind of peace. They would build their family from a different blueprint. They decided to adopt, not just one child, but two. Two little girls to fill the silence.
On the morning they were to drive to the next state, to an orphanage they had corresponded with for months, the house buzzed with a nervous energy. Olivia was in the kitchen, packing sandwiches, when the aroma of the home-cooked roast beef—a smell she usually loved—turned her stomach. A wave of nausea so violent it stole her breath sent her rushing to the bathroom, a hand clamped over her mouth
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