#Chapter 77: Inspiration

Agnes I woke up to the sensation of something small and warm nuzzled against my belly. Looking down, a small smile touched my lips. Thea. She was fast asleep, her hair a tangled mess around her face and her teddy bear squished between us. She must have crawled into bed at some point when I was recovering from the drugs, and the thought of her sneaking into my room to curl up against me filled me with a profound feeling of warmth. But with that warmth also came a bittersweet feeling that I hadn’t expected. Thea wasn’t my daughter. Or so Elijah said; he believed that my child was still out there somewhere, but that it wasn’t Thea. Olivia had been pregnant with her, he said. And of course, I believed him. Elijah knew his own daughter, and Thea was his—the paternity tests had proven that. Furthermore, he didn’t sleep with me. He said he would have remembered that, and when he had said it, his voice had been as firm and resolute as ever. I wasn’t s