“I Adopted a 3-Year-Old After a Tragic Crash… Fifteen Years Later She Hid a Secret From Me.”

My chest tightened.

“Where did you get this?” I asked quietly.

Marisa crossed her arms. “A nurse from pediatrics sent it to me. She said she’s seen Avery with him three times.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

Marisa shook her head. “She’s been lying to you. That’s what it means.”

I looked at the picture again.

Avery looked… relaxed. Comfortable. Not scared.

That somehow made it worse.

“Did you ask her?” Marisa said.

“No.”

“Well, you should.”

Avery was in her room when Marisa left.

I stood outside the door for a long minute before knocking.

“Yeah?” Avery called.

I opened the door.

She was sitting on the floor doing homework, headphones around her neck. Fifteen years old now. Taller every month.

“Hey kid,” I said.

She looked up and smiled. “Hey, Dad.”

That word still hit my heart the same way it did the first time.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can I ask you something?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”