I pushed the birth certificate away.
"I want to go home."
Nathan stood immediately.
"Of course."
But when I tried to rise, my knees gave way.
He reached forward to help me.
"Don't touch me!"
The words came out sharper than I intended.
Nathan froze.
Then slowly withdrew his hand.
"I'm sorry."
I stared at him.
And suddenly, I saw Thomas.
Not in his entire face.
Just the eyes.
The same dark brown eyes.
The same slight crease beside the mouth.
The resemblance was so obvious that I wondered how I had missed it.
Then I remembered something.
Something that made my stomach turn.
I had met Nathan Harrison before.
Not once.
Several times.
He had attended Thomas's seventieth birthday dinner.
He had visited our house to discuss business documents.
He had even stood beside me at Thomas's funeral, quietly offering condolences.
And all those times, I had believed he was simply our attorney.
