I stared.
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I was selfish.”
For the first time that morning, someone admitted it without dressing it up as protection.
I hated that his honesty made me less angry.
“What is your connection to Michael?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re Rebecca’s son.”
“Yes.”
“People think you look like him.”
He looked at his mother.
“I spent most of my life wondering if he was my father.”
“And?”
“He wasn’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
Daniel hesitated.
“DNA.”
I blinked.
“You tested?”
“Years ago.”
“With Michael?”
“No.”
“With someone from Michael’s family.”
“What family?”
Daniel’s face changed.
That was when I realized there was still more.
“Who?”
Rebecca whispered, “Margaret…”
“No. Enough half-truths.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Whose DNA?”
He spoke carefully.
“Michael’s brother.”
I stared.
“My husband didn’t have a brother.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
