Rebecca smiled sadly.
“I came because I didn’t want my brother to face that fear alone again.”
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then Emily opened her eyes and made a tiny sound.
Daniel looked at her and began crying harder.
“She’s not Grace,” he whispered.
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“No,” I answered, gently placing Emily in his arms. “She’s Emily. And she deserves to know her father without secrets.”
Daniel held our daughter close.
“I’ll tell you everything,” he promised.
Rebecca moved beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder.
For the first time, I saw not only the man I had married, but the grieving father he had once been.
The next evening, Daniel told me stories about Grace. About her laughter, her favorite games, and how she used to fall asleep holding his hand.
I listened to every word.
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We couldn’t change the past, but we could stop hiding from it.
