“By lying to me?”
“Do you know what I thought when I drove here?” I asked. “Do you have any idea what I was preparing myself to see?”
Neither of them answered.
“I would have taken an affair,” I said quietly. “I would have taken anything before this. Because you two, hiding this from me? While our son is sick?”
Logan reached for my hand, and I let him take it, but only barely.
“Do you know what I thought when I drove here?”
There was so much more that had to be said.
None of us had the courage yet to begin.
I sank into the chair Logan had vacated.
Noah’s test results still sat on the table.
My mind spun with the thought of every conversation they’d had without me.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
None of us had the courage yet to begin.
The investigator waited by the window, hands folded in front of him.
“How long have you been looking?” I finally asked him.
“Six weeks. Your husband contacted me the day after the specialist called.”
“And what have you actually found?”
He glanced at Logan, then answered.
“A half-sister. Living in Bakersfield. She doesn’t know Noah exists yet, but the preliminary paperwork suggests she’s willing to be contacted. We were waiting on one more confirmation before reaching out.”
“How long have you been looking?”
My chest tightened.
A sister.
A real, breathing possibility.
“When were you planning to tell me?”
Logan’s voice broke.
“Tonight. That’s why we were all here.”
“From a motel.”
“Tonight. That’s why we were all here.”
“From anywhere that wasn’t home. I didn’t want Noah walking in on the wrong sentence.”
I looked down at the file, then back at the three of them.
I felt the anger settle into something quieter, more useful.
My mother wiped her face.
“Sweetheart—”
“I don’t need another apology, Mom. I need a plan.”
I turned to the investigator.
I felt the anger settle into something quieter, more useful.
“Set up the contact. I want to be on the call. Not a report afterward, not a summary. On the call.”
“Understood.”
“And Logan.” I met his eyes. “Noah is my son. Whatever comes next, we do it as three. No more secret meetings. No more motels.”
He nodded, wiping his face.
“Together. I promise.”
“No more secret meetings.”
I picked up the rest of Noah’s medical files.
I held them against my chest.
“Then let’s go home. We have a lot of work to do.”
We walked out into the parking lot side by side.
