Jordan looked up slowly.
His mother covered her mouth.
‘You knew?’ he asked.
She cried harder.
‘I thought I was protecting you.’
His father’s jaw tightened.
‘We were protecting the family.
You were twenty-seven.
You would have thrown your life away for another man’s child.’
Jordan stared at him.
‘I did throw my life into raising her.
That is called being her father.’
Caleb scoffed.
‘Convenient speech now, but you expect us to treat her like blood while you hoard money Caleb needs for his wedding.’
Jordan turned toward him so quickly Caleb stepped back.
‘Hoard?’ Jordan said.
‘That money is for Emma’s appointments, therapy, medication, and emergencies.
You wanted a suit.’
‘It is one day,’ Caleb snapped.
‘My wedding matters too.’
‘Your wedding mattered more to you than a child’s surgery.’
The sentence landed hard enough that even his father looked away.
Jordan looked back at the letter.
His hands had stopped shaking.
