Chapter 2: The Name He Said Like a Wound
The groceries hit the ground and nobody moved.
Lena looked at her mother.
Then at the man.
Then back at her mother again.
Her mother's face had gone completely white.
The man took one slow step forward.
"Sarah."
It wasn't a question.
It was something between a whisper and a wound.
Lena's mother — Sarah — pressed her hand flat against the park gate like she needed it to stay standing.
"How did you—" Her voice broke.
"You can't be here."
"I've been looking for you for six years."
Six years.
Lena didn't understand.
She was seven years old.
She had always believed her father was gone before she was born.
That was what her mother had told her.
That was the only story she had ever known.
She looked up at the man in the blue suit.
"Are you my daddy?"
The man's breath stopped.
Sarah made a sound like something tearing inside her chest.
"Lena, come here.
Right now."
But Lena didn't move.
She was still holding the red bucket.
Still staring at the man whose eyes were filling with something she didn't have a word for yet.
He crouched down slowly until he was level with her face.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"What's your birthday?"
Sarah's hand shot out.
"Don't."
But it was already too late.
Because Lena answered him.
And the man's face crumpled in a way that frightened her more than anything else that afternoon.
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What Lena said next changed everything — and what her mother had been hiding is darker than anyone expected.
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