Daniel nodded.

“And you also resemble Mark.”

I finally understood.

Daniel hadn’t reacted to Evan’s clothes.

Or his hair.

Or his tattoos.

He had recognized something from his past.

“I still think Evan should leave before Mark gets here,” Daniel said.

“No,” I replied.

Daniel looked at me.

“Sarah.”

I turned toward Evan.

“You can leave if that’s what you want. You can stay somewhere else in the house until Mark leaves. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Then I looked back at Daniel.

“But you’ve spent almost twenty years avoiding one conversation.”

Daniel frowned.

“What conversation?”

“The one where you tell Mark how you actually felt about the way he treated Claire.”

Daniel didn’t get the chance to answer.

The doorbell rang.

Nobody moved.

A few seconds later, it rang again.

Daniel looked at Evan.

Then at me.

Finally, he walked to the door.

Mark entered carrying a red plastic tool case.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was—”

He stopped.

His eyes landed on Evan.

The tool case slowly lowered.

Mark looked confused.

Then uneasy.

“Who are you?”

Evan stood.

“My name is Evan.”

He paused.

“My mother was Claire.”

The tool case slipped from Mark’s hand and landed on the floor.

He stared at Evan.

Then at Daniel.

“No.”

Evan took a slow breath.

“It appears you’re my biological father.”

Mark looked back at Daniel.

“What is he doing here?”

Then another realization seemed to hit him.

“Did you know where Claire went all those years ago?”

Daniel hesitated.

“Daniel?”

 

CONTINUE READING…>>