“She does.”
He also knew that I made pancakes on Sundays.
It was clear that Jack had talked about our family more than I had realized.
“Did Jack visit you often?”
Denise nodded.
“He cared about Ethan very much.”
“As his father?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer left me more confused than before.
I needed another explanation.
The next day, I
contacted an older woman named Mrs. Bennett, whose name had appeared in several of the records.
She agreed to meet me.
When we sat down, she placed an old photograph on the table.
Two young boys stood together.
“Which one is Jack?”
She pointed to the taller boy.
“And the other?”
“Daniel.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Who was Daniel?”
“Jack’s brother.”
I could barely speak.
“Jack didn’t have a brother.”
“He didn’t know that he did.”
She explained that Jack and Daniel had been separated when they were young
after a family tragedy. Their records became complicated, and the brothers eventually grew up apart without knowing where the other had gone.
