Chapter 2: The Photograph in His Pocket
Ryan didn't cry.
He didn't flinch.
He just stared up at Daniel with those dark, steady eyes — and said it again.
"Dad."
Claire's arms went cold around Lily.
Daniel stepped back like he'd been pushed.
"Don't call me that," he said.
His voice was low.
Strange.
"Why not?" Ryan said.
"You used to come to our house every Friday."
The room went silent.
Claire looked at Daniel.
Daniel wasn't looking at her.
"Who are your parents?" Claire asked the boy.
Her voice was barely holding.
Ryan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded photograph.
He held it out.
Claire took it.
It was Daniel — younger, smiling — standing next to a woman Claire had never seen before.
And Ryan was there too.
Smaller.
Maybe four or five years old.
Standing between them like a family.
"My mom said you'd come back," Ryan said quietly.
"She said you promised."
Claire's hand started to shake.
She looked at Daniel.
He still hadn't spoken.
He was staring at the photograph like a man watching something he buried finally rise back up.
"Daniel." Her voice cracked.
May you like
"Who is this woman?"
He closed his eyes.
