nothing.
Then he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
“I knew this day might come.”
My voice trembled.
“So it’s true?”
He nodded.
“Yes. She is your mother.”
I felt tears building behind my eyes.
“Then why did you tell me she wasn’t fit to be my mother? Why did you let me grow up believing she didn’t want me?”
My father looked down at the table.
For the first time, he seemed unsure of what to say.
Finally, he began explaining.
My mother had grown up
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