When the line of mourners thinned, he walked straight toward me.
Up close, I could see how young he really was. His jaw still soft with youth. But his eyes…
His eyes carried a weight no boy his age should have.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said politely.
“Thank you,” I replied automatically.
He swallowed, then added quietly, “He told me if anything ever happened to him… you’d take care of me.”
For a moment, I thought I had misheard him.
“I’m sorry? What?”
He met my eyes.
“Daniel promised.”
“That I’d take care of you?” I repeated, stunned. “Who are you?”
“My name is Adam.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Before he could continue, I spoke quickly, trying to steady myself.
“I think there must be some mistake,” I said, though my stomach twisted with something deeper. “You shouldn’t be here. This is a private family service.”
But the thoughts were already racing.
A secret son.
An affair.
A hidden life.
My chest tightened.
Twenty-eight years.
