Eric stood alone near the back.
He watched me place a flower on Nathan’s casket.
He did not approach me.
The following afternoon, Eric called.
“My name is Eric Cole. I handled Nathan’s estate. I need to tell you something he should have told you himself.”
A wooden box sat on the table.
We met in a conference room at his office.
A wooden box sat on the table.
Eric looked exhausted.
“Nathan was your biological father.”
For several seconds, the words meant nothing.
Inside was a signed acknowledgment of paternity from before my birth.
Then my chest tightened.
“No.”
Eric slid a file toward me.
Inside was a signed acknowledgment of paternity from before my birth, copies of letters my mother had returned unopened, and a recent genealogy match.
Nathan had found me through the database.
Years earlier, I had submitted my DNA while looking for relatives on my mother’s side.
