And my father? He didn't apologize. He told my mother to be more understanding.
Christina Sullivan is only two years younger than me.
My mother spent twenty-five years building that man's home, raising his family, standing by his side—only to discover he'd been betraying her the entire time.
Our housekeeper, Hilary Lambert, got worried and called me while I was picking up the anniversary cake.
I broke every speed limit getting back.
I was still pulling into the driveway when my mother stepped off the roof.
Her body landed on my car. Blood sprayed across the windshield in a pattern I will never unsee.
While I was drowning in grief, barely holding myself together to arrange her funeral—my father was busy consoling his mistress.
And my husband? My husband decided to take my enemy's daughter out for a good time?
A thought sliced through the fog in my mind. Impossible. And yet—
"Kevin." I stared at him. "You already knew Christina. You knew exactly who she was. Didn't you?"
"I..." He opened his mouth. Closed it. His eyes darted sideways—guilty.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
Christina jumped in, her voice pitched high and sweet. "Please don't blame Kevin, Fern. Dad and I begged him not to say anything. We were afraid you'd be upset. We wanted to find the right time—"
She twisted her fingers together, the picture of innocence.
"Kevin and I met in college. I was his junior. We... we dated for a while. But then his family called him back for the arranged marriage, and we had to break up."
Her eyes went wide and wet. "I swear I'm not trying to steal him from you. I just—today was so awful. I never imagined your mother would... that she'd go that far..."
Kevin said nothing.
His silence was its own confession.
The absurdity of it crashed over me like ice water.
He'd known all along. He'd known my father had a secret daughter, and he'd kept me blind.
If I'd found out sooner—if I'd had any warning—maybe I could have protected her.
Maybe my mother would still be alive.
The silence stretched. Christina rushed to fill it.
"Fern, Mom and I genuinely wanted to pay our respects. No matter what anyone says, your mother did die because of us. I feel terrible about it."
Christina's voice dripped with rehearsed sincerity.
"But I just graduated—I can't afford anything valuable. So let me sing you a song instead. As an apology. Would that be alright?"