Daniel isn’t related to him.”
“Send it to me.”
“I don’t want to be dragged into your divorce.”
“This started before you were born.”
“Stop.” Her voice cracked.
“You’re making me question my entire life.”
The line went quiet.
“Lily?”
She had ended the call.
My knees buckled against the chair.
Daniel reached for me, but I pulled away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You accepted money to keep quiet while I raised a child without knowing what had been done.”
“I was ashamed.”
“You were paid.”
“Yes.”
That single word hurt more than an excuse would have.
The older Oregon couple hurried toward us.
Beth took one look at my face and sat beside me.
“What happened?”
Her husband, Frank, noticed the papers.
“Someone forged her name,” Daniel said.
Frank picked up the loan statement by its edges.
“I spent thirty-two years investigating financial fraud,” he said.
