She had died seven months earlier.
Adrian explained that when Lena was born, his parents had pressured him relentlessly to stay away.
They told him Marina wanted nothing from him and convinced him that disappearing would protect everyone’s future.
But Lena interrupted him.
“My mom kept his letters.”
Adrian stared at her.
“What?”
“All of them. She gave them to me before she died.”
So Adrian had written to Marina and Lena.
And Marina had never destroyed those letters.
The story Adrian’s parents had told him all those years earlier had never been the whole truth.
But there was still another question.
“When did Lena contact you?” I asked.
Adrian hesitated.
Lena answered instead.
“Before the twins were born.”
I stared at him.
“You knew while I was pregnant?”
“I didn’t answer her right away.”
“When did you?”
“After Noah and Eli came home.”
Anger rose through me.
While I was recovering from childbirth and trying to care for two newborn babies, Adrian had been secretly meeting a daughter I didn’t even know existed.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said.
“You mean you didn’t want to tell me.”
“You were overwhelmed.”
There it was again.
My exhaustion.
My recovery.
Our babies.
Every time the truth became difficult, Adrian used my condition as the excuse for hiding it.
I turned to Lena.
“What was the money for?”
She looked embarrassed.
“Bills. After Mom died, I needed help. I didn’t know he was taking it from your emergency account.”
“I believe you.”
Adrian looked up.
“Helping your daughter wasn’t the betrayal,” I said. “Hiding her from me and taking our money without telling me was.”
Lena’s eyes filled with tears.
“I thought you knew about me.”
That hurt more deeply than I expected.
“No, sweetheart. I didn’t.”
Adrian had not only lied to me.
He had let Lena believe that I knew she existed and had agreed to keep her away from her brothers.
When Adrian reached toward me, I stepped back.
“You’re not coming home tonight.”
“Claire, the boys need me.”
