Chapter 2 - The Name That Wasn't Mine
I looked down at what she'd pushed into my hands.
A document. Old. Soft at the folds, the way paper gets when someone has opened and closed it a hundred times. But the print was still sharp.
An adoption certificate.
My name was not on it.
"Callie—" I started.
"She adopted me by herself." Her voice came apart in the middle. "You never signed anything. You didn't even know. Did you, Dad? Tell me you didn't know."
I couldn't get a sound out.
Erin came down off the porch step, both hands raised like she was approaching something that might bolt.
"Please. Let me explain. It's not what it looks like."
"Then what is it, Mom?" Callie's voice climbed. "Because it's right here in black and white. You signed alone. Where Dad's name goes, there's nothing. A blank line."
Erin's face folded in on itself.
"I was protecting you. Both of you."
"From what?" I said. It didn't sound like my voice. It sounded like a man reading someone else's lines.
She opened her mouth. Shut it again.
And then another car turned into the driveway — slow, deliberate, a car none of us had put on the guest list.
Erin looked at the driver, and every bit of color left her face.
"No," she said under her breath. "Not today. Not him. Not now."
May you like
Callie's fingers dug into my arm.
"Dad," she said. "That's the man whose name IS on it. The original one."
