He closed the door behind us.
Grandma sat down. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I stood by the door with my arms crossed, because if I didn’t hold on to something, I thought I might fly apart.
“Somebody had better start talking,” I said. “Right now.”
Dr. Hale looked at Grandma.
“It should be you, Evelyn,” he said. “It was always supposed to be you.”
Grandma nodded slowly. She looked up at me with those soft gray eyes I’ve known my whole life.
“Sit down, Daniel.”
“I don’t want to sit down.”
“Please, sweetheart.”
I sat down.
She took a long breath. She smoothed the corner of the yellow envelope with her thumb, the same way she’d been doing in the car.
“Your father was adopted,” she said.
I stared at her.
The room was so quiet I could hear the clock on the wall. I could hear rain on the window. I could hear my own heart.
