Chapter 13: The Truth Before My First Breath
I read my father’s message until the words stopped looking like words.
*Come find out what your grandfather hid from you about your own birth.*
For years, I thought the worst thing my family had done was erase my achievements.
I thought the cruelest thing was telling everyone I was a failure.
I thought the deepest betrayal was learning they had forged my signature and tried to steal my inheritance.
I was wrong.
Because there was always another door.
Another secret.
Another thing they believed I was too weak to handle.
“Simone.””
Camille’s voice pulled me back.
I looked at her.
“What does he mean?””
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know.
But I knew one thing.
I had spent my entire life chasing answers.
I wasn’t stopping now.
We returned to the Hale house that evening.
Not because my father invited me.
Because I was done waiting for people to decide when I deserved the truth.
My mother opened the door.
When she saw my face, she knew.
“You found out.””
I stepped inside.
“You knew.””
Her eyes closed.
A small movement.
But enough.
“You knew there was something about my birth.””
She sat down.
“Simone…”
“No.””
My voice shook.
“I’m tired of hearing my name followed by an apology.””
The words hurt her.
Good.
I needed her to understand.
“I need the truth.””
My father was standing near the fireplace.
Silent.
Watching.
“You always wanted the truth,” he said.
I turned.
“Then tell me.””
He looked almost tired.
Not guilty.
Tired.
“There are things you don’t understand.””
I laughed.
“You’re right.””
I walked closer.
“Because every time I get close to understanding, you create another lie.””
My father looked at my mother.
Then at Weston.
Then at Clara.
Everyone was there.
Everyone who had been carrying pieces of my life except me.
Finally, Clara spoke.
“Richard, stop.””
My father’s expression hardened.
“This isn’t your decision.””
“No,” Clara replied.
“It’s Simone’s.””
A long silence followed.
Then my mother whispered:
“Your grandfather wasn’t your biological grandfather.””
The room stopped.
I stared at her.
“What?””
My father looked away.
“Your grandfather raised you as his own.””
I felt like the floor disappeared.
“What does that mean?””
My mother’s hands trembled.
“Your biological father was someone else.””
Nobody spoke.
Not even Weston.
I looked at my mother.
“Who?””
She started crying.
And that was when I realized something.
She wasn’t afraid of my anger.
She was afraid of the memory.
“His name was Daniel.””
The name meant nothing.
But my father reacted.
A small movement.
A flicker.
Enough.
“You know him,” I said.
My father said nothing.
“You know him.””
Finally, he answered.
“He was my friend.””
The room became colder.
My stomach turned.
“What happened to him?””
No one answered.
I looked at Clara.
She looked away.
That was worse.
“Tell me.””
Clara whispered:
“Daniel discovered what Richard was doing with the company.””
My eyes moved to my father.
“And?””
My mother covered her face.
My father’s silence was the answer.
“No.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
I backed away.
“You’re telling me my entire life…”
I couldn’t finish.
My father stepped forward.
“Simone.””
“Don’t.””
My voice broke.
“You don’t get to say my name like you’re my father.””
The words hit him.
For the first time, I saw something close to pain.
But I didn’t care.
Not yet.
Clara handed me another envelope.
“This was left by your grandfather.””
I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Simone,
I am sorry you had to learn this way.
I wanted to tell you myself.
Daniel was the bravest man I knew. He tried to expose Richard’s crimes before anyone else understood what was happening.
My hands shook.
The letter continued.
When Daniel disappeared, I knew Richard had crossed a line.
Disappeared.
Not died.
Not left.
Disappeared.
I looked up.
“Where is he?””
Nobody answered.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man’s voice came through.
A voice I had never heard before.
But somehow…
I knew.
“Simone?””
I froze.
“Who is this?””
A pause.
Then:
“I’m the man your family told you to forget.””
My heart stopped.
“Daniel?””
The voice became quiet.
“Yes.””
I couldn’t speak.
May you like
Then he said:
“I’ve been waiting twenty-two years to tell you the truth.””
