Charles was sitting beside the fireplace.
He stood.
“Danny.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Charles froze.
Daniel tossed the DNA papers onto the coffee table.
“You knew.”
Charles didn’t deny it.
“Why?”
“I was protecting you.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“From my own child?”
“From a stranger who appeared asking for money.”
“He didn’t ask for money.”
“He would have.”
“You offered him money.”
“To solve the problem.”
“I am your son!”
Daniel shouted the words before remembering they were no longer technically true.
Charles’s face changed.
Daniel’s voice dropped.
“I spent forty-one years believing you were my father.”
“I am your father.”
“No. You raised me.”
“That makes me your father.”
“Then why didn’t you act like one?”
Barbara began crying.
Charles turned away.
Daniel followed.
“You controlled my career. My money. My marriage. You covered up Claire’s inheritance. You hid my biological father. You hid my son.”
