And still, I wasn’t done.
“There’s something else you need to see.”
I walked upstairs and returned with the envelope from the attic.
“What is that?”
“Open it.”
Confused, he unfolded the papers.
I watched the exact moment his world tilted sideways.
His eyes widened.
Then narrowed.
Then widened again.
“No,” he breathed.
“I found it in your mother’s boxes.”
His hands trembled violently as he reread the report.
“This isn’t real.”
“I think it is.”
He stared at the paper as though it might burst into flames.
“Richard isn’t my father?”
I remained silent.
The irony was too cruel for words.
The man who demanded proof of fidelity had been raised in a lie his entire life.
He suddenly stood so fast his chair crashed backward onto the floor.
“I’m calling her.”
—
Colleen arrived less than an hour later, furious before she even entered the house.
“What kind of nonsense is this?” she snapped.
Dylan shoved the paper toward her.
“Tell me it’s fake.”
She froze.
Only briefly.
But briefly was enough.
I watched decades of secrets unravel across her face.
“Dylan—”
“Tell me!”
Her composure cracked.
“He was a good father to you.”
“That’s not what I asked!”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Your father never knew.”
The room exploded into chaos.
Dylan fired questions faster than she could answer.
Who was Malik?
How long had the affair lasted?
Did Richard ever suspect?
Why keep it hidden?
Colleen eventually collapsed into a chair, sobbing.
“It happened once,” she whispered weakly.
But nobody believed that.
