“After I gave birth, I brought my baby to meet the grandpa who raised me — but the moment he saw her face, he burst into tears and said, “This is impossible. You have no idea what you’ve done.” My grandpa was the only father I ever had after my parents died in a car crash. So when I got pregnant at 27 and the man I loved disappeared the same night I told him, Grandpa was the one who held me together. He had never met Caleb. I had kept putting off introducing them, telling …

His face hardened.

“You are being hysterical.”

“I am being clear.”

Then, from somewhere inside the house, a voice said,

“Dad, move.”

My heart stopped.

Footsteps approached through the hallway.

William’s hand tightened around the doorframe before slowly dropping away.

The door opened wider.

Caleb stepped onto the porch.

He looked exhausted.

Like he hadn’t slept in days.

For months, I had imagined everything I would say if I ever saw him again.

Every speech vanished the moment he stood in front of me.

I faced him across the gravel driveway, Nora warm against my chest.

“How long did you know?”

He didn’t pretend not to understand.

“From the bookstore.”

“So you found me on purpose.”

“I recognized your name. Then I saw you and…”

“The red bicycle,” I cut in. “All those questions about my childhood. You knew exactly who I was.”

His eyes lowered.

“I wanted to tell you.”