Tears streamed down my face again, but this time they burned differently, fueled by anger and betrayal rather than helplessness, as I realized just how deeply I had been deceived, not only by Ethan, but by someone I had never even suspected.
“The DNA test he showed you might not even be real,” Adrian added. “Let’s do another one. Let’s find the truth.”
I looked down at Emma, noticing for the first time small details in her features that mirrored his, and after a long pause, I nodded. “Okay… let’s do it.”
He drove me to the small apartment I had rented in Brooklyn, but when we arrived, my heart sank, because the place had been ransacked, my belongings scattered, my memories gone, and I collapsed to the floor, holding Emma as tears overwhelmed me once again, until Adrian called the police and then knelt beside me, his voice steady as he said, “You’re not alone anymore. I’m here.”
After everything was cleared, he insisted we couldn’t stay there, and though I hesitated, I eventually agreed to go with him, and when we arrived at his penthouse in Manhattan, I was struck not just by its luxury, but by the sense of calm it carried, as he prepared a room for us and told me gently to rest.