My father’s hand found mine.
“What did she hide?” I asked.
Julian looked toward the guests, then back at me.
“Documents. Proof that I was not the only one involved. Proof that powerful men used your mother and then abandoned her. I thought your father had them.”
Dad shook his head.
“I never cared about revenge,” he said. “I cared about raising her without poison in her heart.”
Julian laughed bitterly. “And that made you noble? You let everyone believe you were guilty.”
“No,” Dad said. “It made me responsible. There is a difference.”
For the first time, I saw the two men clearly.
One had carried shame to protect a child who was not his by blood.
The other had turned love into a key, hoping to unlock an old secret.
The choice before me became painfully simple.
