I just felt tired.
So I told him the truth.
“Yes.”
Preston stared at me.
Vanessa laughed too quickly.
“That is impossible.”
I looked at her.
“Is it?”
“They could belong to anyone.”
Five little faces turned toward her.
Then toward Preston.
Even several relatives nearby looked uncomfortable.
Because the resemblance had become ridiculous to deny.
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“People see what they want to see.”
Preston barely seemed to hear her.
“You were pregnant when you left?”
“I didn’t know yet.”
His eyes snapped back to mine.
“When did you find out?”
“Six weeks later.”
“And you never told me?”
That question almost made me laugh.
Instead, I reached into the leather portfolio tucked beneath my arm.
“I tried.”
Vanessa’s entire posture changed.
She saw the folder.
And suddenly, she was no longer worried about funeral etiquette.
She was scared.
“Danielle.”
It was the first time she had used my name.
Softly.
Almost pleading.
“Not here.”
Preston turned toward her.
I watched something register in his expression.
“Why not here?”
Vanessa immediately corrected herself.
“Because your father is being buried.”
“No.”
He stared at her.
“You looked at that folder before she even opened it.”
Vanessa’s lips parted.
Preston’s eyes narrowed.
“What do you think is inside?”
“Nothing. I don’t know.”
“Then why are you nervous?”
“I’m not nervous.”
She was.
Her right hand was trembling.
I looked at Preston.
“You asked if I told you.”
I held out the folder.
“The answer is in here.”
He hesitated before taking it.
For ten years, I had carried copies of those records every time I moved.
