Chapter 16 - The Truth About My Father
“Tell me.”
Luka refused.
“Tell me now.”
Rebecca stepped away.
She knew this was between us.
Luka stared at the floor.
“Thomas was your father in every way that mattered.”
My heart sank.
“That is not what I asked.”
“No.”
“Was he my biological father?”
Luka finally looked at me.
“No.”
The word erased the room.
I could hear Isla breathing from the bassinet.
Nothing else.
“Who was?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew Thomas wasn’t.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Your father told me.”
“He lied to me my entire life.”
“He raised you.”
“That doesn’t answer anything.”
I stood.
“Everyone keeps deciding which truth I can handle.”
Luka’s expression tightened.
“Your father was trying to protect you.”
“So is every liar.”
He absorbed that without defending himself.
Rebecca eventually placed another file in front of me.
My mother, Anna, had undergone fertility treatment through Samuel Crane’s clinic.
Thomas had been infertile.
They used donor material.
Thomas knew.
Anna knew.
Neither cared.
They wanted children.
Then M-17 turned their treatment into an experiment.
The donor’s identity was illegally concealed.
Cassandra and I were born.
Cassandra was taken.
My mother died from complications.
Thomas spent the rest of his life trying to find the daughter he lost.
I closed my eyes.
“He was my father.”
“Yes,” Luka said.
This time I did not argue.
Biology could not erase the man who taught me to ride a bicycle.
The man who stayed awake during thunderstorms.
The man who packed notes inside my lunches.
The man who searched for my sister until he died.
Malcolm’s challenge depended on the trust language.
Rebecca read it carefully.
Then smiled.
“He made a mistake.”
“What?”
“The trust does not say biological descendant.”
She pointed to the line.
It said legally recognized child of Thomas Bennett.
I almost laughed.
Malcolm had assumed DNA could erase me.
My father had prepared for that too.
Then Luka’s investigator called.
They had located Samuel Crane’s original donor registry.
One entry matched my conception date.
The donor was listed under an identification number.
M17-D04.
No name.
But there was a fingerprint.
Luka’s team ran it through an old government database.
The result arrived an hour later.
I watched Luka read it.
His expression changed completely.
“Who is it?”
He did not answer.
“Luka.”
He turned the screen toward me.
The name was Lorenzo Moretti.
Luka’s father.
I stared at the record.
Then at Luka.
The room seemed to disappear.
May you like
If the registry was accurate, Luka Moretti was not merely the man my father had trusted.
He was my biological half-brother.
