“March fourth, thirteen years ago.
Certified letter delivered to your office.”
Daniel frowned.
“What letter?”
“The letter telling you I was pregnant.”
His face drained.
I continued.
“A second letter was delivered to the apartment you shared with Vanessa.
A third was sent through your attorney when you stopped answering my calls.”
He shook his head.
“I never saw them.”
“Your attorney responded.”
Daniel went completely still.
“What?”
I pulled out another page.
It was a photocopy of a document I had memorized long ago.
“Your lawyer wrote that you disputed paternity and would not assume parental obligations without testing after birth.
After the twins were born, my attorney contacted yours again.
You declined voluntary testing.”
“I never told him to do that.”
“You signed the response.”
Daniel took the page.
His eyes moved across it rapidly.
Then stopped near the bottom.
I knew exactly where.
His signature.
For years, I had imagined what it might feel like to see him confronted with it.
I had expected satisfaction.
There was none.
Only exhaustion.
Daniel stared at the paper.
“This isn’t…”
“It is.”
“I don’t remember signing this.”
