Because whatever was behind that door, it was going to change who Matthias was — not just who his father had been, but who he was, the ground he stood on, the name he had been so desperate to pass to a son.

I did not know if I wanted the man who had wronged me to also be a man about to lose the floor beneath his feet.

Fury wants the other person destroyed.

Love, even injured love, does not, quite.

I sat in the back of that car holding both, and neither one told me what to hope for, and the streetlights kept sliding by, and the baby slept through all of it, carried toward a truth about his own blood that he would not learn for years.

Chapter 13 — The Folder