I stared at the photo in my hand, my father’s face now a stranger to me.

The lies I’d lived with… the childhood I thought was simple… shattered like glass.

Luca stood beside me in silence, giving me time to absorb it. But the truth weighed too heavily to ignore.

“You knew all along,” I said, my voice rough.

“I suspected,” Luca replied. “But confirmation only came last month. Viktor covered his tracks well.”

“And my mother?” I asked, a lump forming in my throat.

“She didn’t know everything. But she knew enough to run.”

The floor beneath me might as well have disappeared.

I wanted to scream. Cry. Throw...