I forwarded the result to Aaron.
No message.
No subject.
Just the attachment.
Less than an hour later, he was standing on Diana’s porch.
I opened the door but stayed in the doorway.
I didn’t invite him inside.
“Elena.” His voice broke. “Elena, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”
“You saw the file.”
“I saw it. I read it four times.”
“Good.”
“Please. Please let me hold him. Let me come home.”
Aaron was openly crying.
I looked at him.
“Aaron, one question. Answer it honestly.”
“Anything.”
“Then why does our son have Michael’s birthmark?”
His expression went blank.
Whatever apology he had practiced disappeared.
“Call Michael.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Call him.”
“Elena, I don’t even know what I’m asking.”
“Then start with the birthmark.”
He stood there for a moment.
I held out my hand.
“Give me the phone.”
That finally moved him.
Aaron pulled out his phone and called Michael.
Michael answered after three rings.
“Aaron?”
“That birthmark,” Aaron said. “The one on your back. Where did you get it?”
Silence.
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