Chapter 4
I backed away from Marcus.
My father.
Or maybe not my father.
I didn't even know what to call him anymore.
"Just answer me."
His eyes filled.
"Jordan—"
"Are you my biological father?"
Mom began sobbing.
Dad looked toward her.
Then back at me.
"We never knew for certain."
The words struck me like a punch.
I stared at him.
"You never knew?"
He nodded slowly.
"Your mother became pregnant during a difficult time."
I shook my head.
"No."
My voice cracked.
"No, you don't get to say it like that."
I looked toward Mom.
"You told me Dad was there when I was born."
"He was."
"You told me he held me first."
"He did."
I looked at Marcus.
"Then why didn't you ever tell me there might be someone else?"
He stepped closer.
"Because I never wanted you to feel like you weren't mine."
Tears burned my eyes.
"But you lied."
His face crumpled.
"Yes."
That admission hurt worse than anything else.
Marcus had always taught me to tell the truth.
When I broke a neighbor's window at twelve, he marched me over to apologize.
When I cheated on a math test at fourteen, he made me tell my teacher.
He said honesty was the foundation of being a good man.
Now I stood in our living room wondering whether he'd followed his own advice.
I looked toward the staircase.
"Does Daniel know about me?"
Mom lowered her head.
"Yes."
My stomach twisted.
"Has he always known?"
She nodded.
"He knew there was a possibility."
I felt sick.
"Then why is he coming here now?"
Mom wiped her eyes.
"Because he says he has proof."
The room fell silent.
I looked at Dad.
"Proof of what?"
Marcus's jaw tightened.
"That he's your biological father."
My knees weakened.
I sat on the bottom step.
Aunt Nia approached.
I raised my hand.
"Please don't."
She stopped.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then I whispered, "I want a DNA test."
Mom nodded immediately.
"Of course."
Dad sat beside me.
I stared at the floor.
"I don't want anybody deciding what I should know anymore."
He swallowed.
"That's fair."
I looked at him.
"And I don't want you paying Daniel to keep quiet."
Dad's expression changed.
"Jordan, I wasn't planning to."
Mom looked down.
I noticed.
"Mom?"
She began crying again.
I felt my stomach drop.
"Did you already pay him?"
Silence.
Then she whispered, "Twenty-five thousand."
I stared at her.
"You gave him twenty-five thousand dollars?"
She nodded.
"Three nights ago."
Dad stood.
"Claire!"
She covered her face.
"I panicked!"
My heart raced.
Three nights earlier.
The night I'd seen someone enter her bedroom.
The night she'd told me I was imagining things.
I looked at Mom.
"You gave him money while he was inside our house?"
She shook her head.
"I transferred it afterward."
Dad stared at her.
"From where?"
She hesitated.
"Our savings."
His face changed completely.
"Claire, that account is for Jordan's college."
My stomach twisted.
I looked at Mom.
"You used my college money?"
She started crying harder.
"I was going to replace it."
I stood.
I couldn't breathe.
For seventeen years, my parents had been hiding the truth about my birth.
Now my mother was using money meant for my future to pay a man who was threatening us.
I turned toward the front door.
Dad followed.
"Jordan, where are you going?"
"Outside."
"Son—"
"I need air."
He stopped.
I walked onto the porch.
The afternoon sun was bright.
A lawn mower hummed somewhere down the street.
Everything looked normal.
I hated that.
My entire life had changed, and the neighborhood looked exactly the same.
I sat on the steps.
Then I started crying.
Not quietly.
Not in a way I could hide.
I cried until my chest hurt.
A few minutes later, Dad came outside.
He sat beside me.
He didn't touch me.
He just waited.
Finally, I whispered, "Did you ever look at me and wonder?"
His expression softened.
"Wonder what?"
"Whether I was really yours."
He looked hurt.
"Jordan, listen to me."
I shook my head.
"Just tell me."
He took a slow breath.
"When you were born, your mother was terrified."
I stared at the driveway.
"She thought Daniel might try to take you away."
My chest tightened.
"I held you in the hospital."
His voice broke.
"You were so tiny that your whole hand fit around my finger."
Tears filled his eyes.
"And I knew I loved you."
I swallowed.
"Even if I wasn't yours?"
He looked directly at me.
"You were mine because I chose to be your father."
I began crying again.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
This time, I let him.
For several minutes, we sat together.
Then he whispered, "I should have told you the truth sooner."
I nodded.
"Yeah."
He kissed the top of my head.
"I'm sorry."
I leaned against him.
I wasn't ready to forgive everything.
But I still needed my dad.
That evening, Aunt Nia returned with a folder.
She said she'd found old records from Mom's divorce.
We gathered around the kitchen table.
Inside were court documents, financial statements, and correspondence from Daniel's attorney.
One page caught my attention.
A custody petition.
Filed seventeen years earlier.
I stared at it.
"Daniel tried to get custody of me?"
Mom nodded slowly.
"Yes."
My heart pounded.
"What happened?"
She swallowed.
"The petition was withdrawn."
I frowned.
"Why?"
Aunt Nia looked toward Mom.
"Claire, tell him."
Mom's eyes filled.
"Because Daniel accepted a settlement."
I stared at her.
"What settlement?"
She whispered.
"Money."
My stomach twisted.
"How much?"
Mom lowered her head.
"One hundred thousand dollars."
I couldn't speak.
Daniel had accepted money to withdraw his custody petition.
Then he'd disappeared.
And now he was demanding more.
I looked at the documents.
A signature appeared near the bottom.
Daniel Brooks.
Beside it was another name.
Marcus Carter.
I stared at Dad.
"You signed this?"
He looked confused.
"Let me see."
I handed him the paper.
His expression changed.
"That's not my signature."
The room went silent.
Aunt Nia leaned forward.
"What?"
Dad pointed at the page.
"I never signed this agreement."
My heart hammered.
"Then who did?"
Mom's face drained of color.
She stared at the document.
Then whispered, "Oh, my God."
I looked at her.
"What?"
She shook her head desperately.
May you like
"That paper wasn't supposed to exist."
And suddenly, I realized the secret about my birth might be only one piece of something much bigger.
