he television camera pulled back, and suddenly four five-year-old children were sitting beside the woman I had divorced because I believed she could never make me a father. Two had my hazel eyes, one had the deep dimple on my right cheek, and within minutes my mother admitted 9she had known3 the truth6 for years0.

“I wanted you to avoid being hurt like me.”

I shook my head.

“So you destroyed my marriage to save me from a pain you imagined.”

“I thought Elena would eventually leave you.”

“She never left me.”

“I thought she would resent you.”

“She never did.”

“I thought you would become trapped.”

I stared at her.

“She was carrying four children.”

My mother covered her face.

I walked out.

I didn’t know where else to go.

But I knew exactly who I needed to see.

Elena.

This time, I didn’t wait outside her office.

I called her.

She answered after the fourth ring.

“Alex?”

“I need to see you.”

There was a long pause.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I read your letter.”

Silence.

“The original?”

“Yes.”

Her breathing changed.

“You found it.”

“My mother kept it.”

Another silence.

Then Elena said, “Come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I need tonight.”

“Elena—”

“Alex, I’ve waited six years. I can wait one more night.”

She hung up.

I didn’t sleep.

The next morning, I arrived at Little Nests before the doors opened.

The building was beautiful.

Bright windows.

Colorful murals.

A small garden filled with toys.

Children’s laughter echoed from inside.

I stood outside for several minutes before Elena came out.