I’d never known him to be such a… coward.
I turned to Evan.
“You can go if you want to, Evan. You can hide upstairs until Mark leaves. That’s your choice to make, but you…” I turned back to Daniel. “You’ve spent nearly twenty years avoiding one uncomfortable sentence.”
Daniel stared at me. “What sentence?”
“The one where you tell Mark what you actually think of what he did.”
Daniel never got the chance to answer me.
The doorbell rang.
“You’ve spent nearly twenty years avoiding one uncomfortable sentence.”
Nobody moved.
A few seconds later, it rang again.
Daniel looked at Evan.
Then at me.
I nodded.
Finally, he walked into the hallway and opened it.
The doorbell rang.
Mark came in holding a red plastic tool case.
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was—”
He broke off when he saw Evan.
The tool case lowered slightly in his hand.
Mark’s face looked strange. Confused first.
Then frightened.
He broke off when he saw Evan.
“Who… are you?”
Evan’s jaw clenched. I watched him stand, watched his hands curl into fists at his sides, and knew Evan was going to face this head-on.
“My name is Evan. My mother was Claire.”
The tool case hit the floor.
Evan was going to face this head-on.
My daughter flinched.
Mark looked at Daniel.
“No… is he?”
“Yes,” Evan said. “It seems I’m your son.”
Mark glanced at him, then he rounded on Daniel.
“What is he doing here? And where’s Claire? Did you know where she ran off to all this time?”
“It seems I’m your son.”
Daniel hesitated.
“Answer me!” Mark snapped. “You’re the one that took her from me all those years ago, aren’t you? Were you sleeping with her?”
“No. Never.” Daniel straightened. “But I did help her leave.”
“You son of a—” Mark curled his hand into a fist. “You helped her take my child.”
“She wanted to leave, Mark. You made it almost impossible. I did the right thing.
