THE BLUE BIRD BLANKET

PART 1

Sixteen years ago, I was a 39-year-old mechanic who knew more about engines than babies.

One freezing morning, my boss handed me the keys to a sedan that had been towed in overnight.

“Check everything. Owner says it won’t start.”

When I opened the trunk, I heard a whimper.

Inside was a newborn girl wrapped in a yellow blanket with tiny blue birds.

I called 911, but whoever had left her vanished without a trace. Weeks later, I learned she was in foster care, and I couldn’t get those enormous brown eyes out of my head.