The Photograph That Led Me to My Twins—and the Letters My Mother Hid for Three Years
“I understand.”
“Gabriel, they have a father.
They call Lucas Dad.
You may have a biological connection, but they don’t owe you instant closeness.”
“I won’t ask them to.”
I arrived at ten on a Saturday morning carrying a small bag of bakery rolls Savannah had suggested.
Lucas opened the door and greeted me with a reserved nod.
I had expected him to resent me.