“So you lied. My whole life.”
“Yes.” I didn’t try to soften it. “Your dad died six years ago, and I kept my promise to him, because it was the last thing I could still do for him. I was wrong to keep it this long. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Wyatt pushed back from the table and stood up. He walked to the sink, gripped the edge of the counter, and stared out the window at the backyard where Graham had built him a tree fort when he was seven.
“Did everybody know but me?”
“No. Just me, your dad, Dale, and Renata.”
“Renata.” He laughed without any humor. “She used to make me pancakes every Saturday. She’d look at me and Ezra at the same table and she knew.”
“She did.”
“And Ezra? Did Ezra know?”
“Not from us. Never from us. I don’t know how he found out.”
