His father, Walter, opened the folder slowly, like he was handling something dangerous. Inside were multiple documents: official DNA results, a notarized statement, and a letter from a family law firm in downtown Chicago. He read page after page, and the color rose into his face.
“Probability of paternity,” he said hoarsely, “‘greater than 99.999 percent.’”
Claire stepped back. “That doesn’t prove—”
“It proves enough,” Walter snapped, louder than I had ever heard him. “And the video proves the rest.”
Diane shoved her chair back so hard it scraped across the floor. “Walter, don’t speak to her like that. We need to calm down.”
“Calm down?” he repeated. “You let her say that to a child.”
My chest tightened when he said child. Not granddaughter. Not Sophie. Just a child. It still stung, but I understood—it was the only word he could manage through the shame.
Read more on the next page >>
For more detailed instructions, please click the button below (>) and follow us on Facebook.
