“What exactly did Grandma say?”
“She said he lives there. And that I shouldn’t tell you because it would make you sad.”
The words landed like stones.
Make me sad.
I pulled Ava into my arms. “You’re not in trouble,” I told her quickly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Inside, though, my thoughts were racing.
A brother. Living at Margaret’s house. A secret.
That night, I did not sleep.
Daniel lay beside me, breathing steadily, unaware of the storm unraveling inches away. I stared at the ceiling and tried to make sense of what Ava had said.
There was only one explanation that seemed to fit.
Another child.
A child I did not know about.
Had Daniel cheated? Before we were married? During our marriage? Was there a little boy somewhere, maybe five years old or perhaps older, being raised quietly by his grandmother?
I replayed our entire relationship in my mind. Our wedding day. The way Daniel cried when Ava was born. The countless evenings spent building furniture, folding laundry, and arguing over bedtime routines.
