He flinched like I’d slapped him.
“I was desperate,” he said hoarsely. “We’re running out of time. Renata and I aren’t matches. Neither are my brothers. The waiting list is years. I couldn’t just —”
“So you went after an eighteen-year-old boy who thinks of you as his best friend’s dad.”
“He’s family.”
“He’s my son.” I heard my voice ring off his porch ceiling. “You gave up any right to call him family the day you signed those papers. Cancel the appointment. Destroy whatever samples that lab has. And stay away from Wyatt.”
Dale opened his mouth. For one strange second, he looked like he wanted to tell me something. Something bigger.
Then he just nodded, and shut the door.
Renata’s car wasn’t in the driveway. I didn’t wonder where she was. I was too angry to wonder anything.
The next two days were awful.
Wyatt wouldn’t go back to the apartment. He sat in his room and stared at his phone while it buzzed and buzzed. Ezra. Ezra. Ezra. He never answered.
