In the photo, Mia sat in a coffee shop. Across from her—a bald old man.
On the table between them: two bright-red marriage certificates.
I knew that man.
Nathan Finch. The fake certificate guy.
The same Nathan Finch who got hauled in for fraud.
Madeline's voice dripped venom:
"That forger admitted it himself—the madam's marriage certificate was his work! You won't find it in the Civil Registry Office system anywhere!"
"Peter Harding is a fraud!"
Lucas picked up the photo. The veins on the back of his hand bulged.
Slowly, he turned to look at me.
That flicker of warmth from moments ago—gone.
Replaced by something colder than death.
"Dad?"
He spat the word through clenched teeth, dripping with contempt.
"This is the fatherly love you talked about?"
"For money, you'd stoop to forging documents?"
I opened my mouth. My throat was sandpaper—no sound came out.
What the hell...
What was happening?!
