That night, Claire barely spoke, but before bed she said evenly, “I need to show you something tomorrow.” Her tone was flat, her face unreadable. Daniel nodded numbly, but his mind kept circling back to the envelope in her desk. The boys were his, but who was the card for? And why?
The next morning was thick with silence. Claire moved briskly through the kitchen, packing lunches, avoiding his eyes. Daniel watched her every motion, searching for cracks. The DNA test proved the boys were his, but the card still burned in his pocket like a match waiting to ignite.