“How could you do this to her?” she screamed. “How could you lie to my daughter for fifteen years?”
“Mom?” I whispered.
She whipped around.
For one second, pain crossed her face.
Then anger snapped back.
“Sit down,” she said. “You need to know who he really is.”
My husband looked at me with wet eyes.
“Please,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
My hands shook as I took the papers.
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