I asked you to stand beside me for another reason.
Your mother believed that one day you might need the Bennett name to reclaim what was stolen from our family. Adoption records, altered documents, and years of deception made proving your identity nearly impossible. But as my publicly acknowledged wife and beneficiary, you would have immediate access to the cabin, my private archives, and the estate records after my d/e/@/th.
I knew the request was unfair. I also knew you might refuse if you understood the danger.
For that, I am sorry.
But the person responsible for destroying our family is still alive.
And yesterday, that person attended our ceremony.
The paper fell from my hand.
Only four people had been in Carl’s living room.
Carl.
Me.
The priest.
And Daniel.
I slowly raised my eyes.
Daniel Mercer stood on the other side of the table, his expression unreadable.
