I said. “He never made contact with me because he didn’t know—and all these years I assumed it was because he decided that he had no interest in knowing me.” “It just became too difficult to juggle all the pieces, Michaela—to keep clear what was true and what wasn’t. I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry? You promised you would tell him.” Her voice was low, quivering with anger. “You bastard. You let him live all his life with this lie. And me—you don’t owe me anything, but you made me a promise. All these years you led me to believe you had told him the truth. How could you?” “I haven’t led you to believe anything,” I said, finding my own anger. “And you’re right—I owe you nothing. I kept your secret, protected you, for decades—but I don’t see any calls from you since it became safe for you to resume using your own name. What’s it been, twelve years? As you once said to me, none of this was intentional—it just happened,” I said. “Now it’s too late.
