Chapter 2
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I stood in the middle of the living room holding a document that had somehow turned my entire childhood into a question mark.
My father extended his hand.
"Let me explain."
I stepped backward.
"Explain what? That you aren't my father? That Mom lied to me? That Grandpa knew?"
My mother began crying.
I had seen Claire cry when she lost her favorite necklace, when a friend betrayed her, and when Noah was hospitalized with a fever.
I'd never seen her look so frightened of her own daughter.
"Maya, please sit down."
"Stop telling me what to do!"
My voice echoed through the room.
Noah started crying against Marcus's shoulder. My father shifted him toward my mother, but I barely noticed.
I was staring at the document.
The first page appeared to be a notarized declaration concerning my parentage. The second contained references to a private adoption arrangement and a sealed family court record.
I couldn't understand all the legal language.
But I understood enough.
Marcus wasn't listed as my biological father.
A name had been blacked out on the copy I held.
Someone had deliberately removed the only piece of information I desperately needed.
I turned toward Grandpa Arthur.
"You told me Dad's eyes looked like mine because we were family."
Arthur lowered his head.
"You told me I had his smile. You said I got my stubbornness from him."
His eyes filled with tears.
"Maya, I love you."
"That's not an answer!"
I threw the document onto the coffee table.
"Who is my real father?"
My mother covered her face.
Marcus looked as though he'd been struck.
Then he said something I never expected.
"I am your father."
I stared at him.
"Not biologically."
"No."
The single word sounded like a confession.
My knees weakened, and I caught the back of a chair.
"How long have you known?"
Marcus rubbed his face.
"Since before you were born."
I couldn't breathe properly.
He had known before I took my first breath. He had known when he carried me home from the hospital, when he taught me to ride a bicycle, and when he held my hand during my first day of school.
He had known when I called him Daddy.
And he'd never told me.
"Why?"
My father looked toward my mother again.
That look made me angrier than any answer could have.
"Stop looking at her! I'm asking you!"
He swallowed.
"Because I chose to raise you."
I felt something cold move through my chest.
"You chose me?"
"Yes."
"Then why have I spent eighteen years feeling like I was the child you regretted choosing?"
His mouth opened, but no words came out.
I remembered every school play he'd missed, every promise he'd broken, every time he'd told me Noah needed him more.
I remembered how he'd attended every appointment for my little brother but complained when I asked him to drive me to a scholarship interview.
I'd thought I was being replaced.
Now I wondered whether I'd ever truly belonged.
My mother approached me again.
"Your father loved you before you were born. Things were complicated."
I looked at her.
"Then tell me who my biological father is."
She shook her head.
"Not like this."
I laughed bitterly.
"How would you prefer it? Should I schedule an appointment? Should I wear a nicer dress while you tell me my whole life was a lie?"
Arthur stepped away from the window.
"Your mother was very young when this happened."
"I'm eighteen now, Grandpa. Apparently, old enough to be lied to for my entire life."
He flinched.
Marcus put Noah down beside Claire and moved closer.
"I never wanted you to feel unwanted."
"Then why did you leave my graduation empty?"
His face tightened.
For a moment, I thought he might finally understand.
Then he said, "Your brother really was sick."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"That is still your answer?"
He looked away.
I walked to the front door.
My mother followed.
"Maya, where are you going?"
"Somewhere nobody needs me to pretend I'm fine."
"You can't leave like this."
I turned around.
"Watch me."
I stepped outside and shut the door behind me.
My hands shook so badly that I struggled to unlock my car.
Before I could start the engine, my phone rang.
It was an unfamiliar number.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice came through, quiet and hesitant.
"Is this Maya Bennett?"
"Yes. Who is this?"
"My name is Daniel Brooks. I'm an attorney handling your late biological father's estate."
I stopped breathing.
"My what?"
There was a pause.
"Your biological father passed away several years ago. Before his death, he left instructions concerning you."
I gripped the steering wheel.
"Who was he?"
The attorney took a breath.
"His name was David Bennett."
I knew that name.
David was Marcus's older brother.
The uncle I'd been told died before I was old enough to remember him.
The man whose photograph sat in a silver frame on Grandpa Arthur's bookshelf.
The man my family always described as a wonderful person who had died tragically young.
My voice came out as a whisper.
"You're telling me my biological father was my uncle?"
"Yes," Daniel said. "And there's something else you need to know."
I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel.
"What?"
"Your father left you something important. But according to his instructions, you must receive it personally."
I looked toward the house.
Behind those walls were four people who had known the truth all along.
"Where do I meet you?"
"Tomorrow morning. My office."
I ended the call and sat in silence.
I'd spent eighteen years believing I was the daughter of Marcus Bennett.
Now I had a dead biological father, a hidden inheritance, and a family that had apparently built my entire identity around a secret.
May you like
For the first time that day, I stopped crying.
I was going to find out everything.
