Chapter 6: The Report That Changed Everything

For several seconds, I couldn’t move.

Daniel stood in front of me with the folder held between both hands, as if he were offering me something fragile.

But nothing about this felt fragile.

It felt explosive.

Oliver looked up at me.

“Mummy, what does biological mean?””

I crouched beside him.

“It means someone you’re related to by birth.””

He thought about that.

“Like how Sophie and I are twins?””

“Yes, sweetheart.””

He nodded, apparently satisfied.

Then he looked at Daniel.

“Are you related to us?””

I felt my heart twist.

I could have lied.

I could have told Oliver that the question was too complicated, that we would discuss it later, that he didn’t need to worry about adult problems.

But I had promised myself that I would never make my children carry the burden of secrets that weren’t theirs.

So I brushed his hair away from his forehead.

“We don’t know yet.””

Oliver considered that answer.

Then he reached for Sophie’s hand.

“Okay. We can find out.””

The simplicity of his response nearly brought me to my knees.

He was eight years old.

He had just heard a stranger suggest that their family might be connected to him in a way nobody had explained.

And still, his first instinct was to reassure his sister.

I kissed the top of his head.

Then I stood and faced Daniel.

“Give me the folder.””

He handed it to me.

My fingers felt numb as I opened it.

The first page was a report from the hospital’s family services department. The children’s names were listed near the top, followed by their dates of birth, medical details, and the information available about their biological parents.

I recognized the format immediately.

I had seen similar documents during the adoption process, although our social worker had carefully removed identifying information that we were not entitled to access.

The report Daniel held was different.

It contained information that had never been included in the papers I received.

There were handwritten notes in the margins.

A section concerning the biological father had been marked for follow-up.

And beneath that section was a name.

Daniel’s name.

I stared at it.

Then I read the paragraph below.

The report stated that a possible paternal connection had been raised during an early review of the children’s family history. Further verification had been recommended, but the information was incomplete.

There was no confirmation.

No declaration.

No proof that Daniel was their biological father.

Just a question that someone had thought important enough to investigate.

I looked up.

“Where did you get this?””

Daniel rubbed his face.

“From the social worker.””

“When?””

“After I saw the children at the hospital.””

“Why were you given confidential records?””

“I wasn’t given the complete file. I was asked questions because of the possible family connection.””

I looked back at the report.

“What possible family connection?””

He hesitated.

“My father’s side of the family.””

Margaret, who had followed us into the hallway, made a strangled sound.

Daniel turned toward her.

“Mom, please.””

She shook her head.

“No. Don’t you dare drag your father into this without explaining what you mean.””

I stared at them both.

“Someone needs to start explaining.””

Daniel looked at the folder in my hands.

Then he took a breath.

“Before my father died, he told me something about a woman he had known years ago. She had a child, and he believed the child might have been his.””

Margaret closed her eyes.

I looked at her.

“You knew?””

She began crying.

“I knew there had been a woman. I didn’t know about the children.””

Daniel continued.

“My father never knew for certain whether the child was his. The woman moved away, and the family lost contact with her. After my father died, I found some letters among his belongings.””

“Letters from this woman?””

He nodded.

“They mentioned a child. Later, when I saw the names in the report, I thought there might be a connection.””

I looked down at the document.

“Then why didn’t you tell the social worker everything you knew?””

“I did.””

Rachel shook her head.

“No, Daniel. You told me you didn’t know anything.””

He turned toward her.

“I didn’t want to get involved.””

“You were already involved!””

His face tightened.

“I was trying to understand what my father had done.””

I felt a chill move through me.

“So you knew there was a possibility these children were related to your family, and you kept it to yourself.””

“I didn’t know if it was true.””

“You could have told me.””

He stared at me.

“I didn’t know you were adopting them.””

Rachel’s expression hardened.