“Thomas Foster.”
My mother’s whisper seemed to drain every bit of air from the room.
Claire stopped breathing.
I looked at her.
Then at Richard.
Then back at Claire.
Thomas Foster.
The man who had adopted her.
The man who had raised her.
The man Richard had once called his business partner.
Claire’s voice came out barely audible.
“My father?”
Nobody answered.
She looked at Richard.
“Was Thomas my biological father?”
Richard stared at the table.
Claire stepped toward him.
“Answer me.”
His shoulders dropped.
“I don’t know.”
She laughed once.
It was sharp and broken.
“Yes, you do.”
“I suspected.”
“For thirty-four years?”
He said nothing.
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
“You gave me to my own biological father and never told either of us?”
Richard looked up.
“That wasn’t how it happened.”
“Then explain it.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Thomas knew Rebecca before I did.”
My stomach tightened.
Claire whispered, “How?”
“They met through the company.”
Michael leaned forward.
“So Rebecca was involved with David, Richard, and Thomas?”
Richard shook his head.
“It wasn’t like that.”
Claire snapped, “Stop saying that.”
The room went silent.
She pointed at him.
“Every time someone finds another lie, you say it wasn’t like that.”
Her voice trembled.
“So tell us what it was like.”
Richard finally looked defeated.
“Rebecca and Thomas had one night together.”
My mother closed her eyes.
Claire stared at him.
“One night.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Shortly before she learned she was pregnant.”
Michael leaned back slowly.
“That explains why David’s later DNA test showed only one twin could be his.”
Richard nodded.
My thoughts were racing.
“So one of us could be David’s daughter.”
I looked at Claire.
“And the other could be Thomas’s.”
Mr. Collins nodded.
“That is what Henry’s investigator suspected.”
Claire’s face twisted.
“But Thomas raised me.”
Richard looked away.
“He and Elaine couldn’t have children.”
Claire whispered, “Elaine.”
Her adoptive mother.
The woman she had called Mom her entire life.
“What did Elaine know?”
Richard hesitated.
“Not everything.”
Claire laughed through her tears.
“Of course.”
She wiped her face.
“What did she know?”
“She knew Thomas might have had a child with Rebecca.”
Claire froze.
“But she didn’t know it was me?”
“No.”
Silence.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“So Thomas suspected?”
Richard nodded.
“He knew there was a chance.”
Claire stepped backward.
The realization hit her all at once.
“He didn’t adopt a stranger.”
“No.”
“He adopted me because he thought I might be his.”
Richard said nothing.
Claire looked toward the photographs on the table.
Her childhood.
Graduations.
Birthday parties.
A father who had been present every day.
Suddenly every memory meant something different.
“Why didn’t he test me?”
Richard’s voice softened.
“Maybe he didn’t need to.”
Claire stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“He loved you.”
Claire’s face broke.
“You don’t get to use his love to excuse what you did.”
Richard lowered his eyes.
She continued.
“If Thomas believed I might be his daughter, why did you arrange an adoption instead of simply telling him?”
Richard swallowed.
“Because Elaine didn’t know about Rebecca.”
Claire went still.
My mother gave a bitter laugh.
“Another marriage you were protecting with lies.”
Richard snapped, “I was trying to prevent everyone from being destroyed.”
I looked at him.
“And somehow everyone got destroyed anyway.”
He had no answer.
Michael touched the folder containing David’s letters.
“There’s something else my father wrote.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
Michael removed another sheet.
“This wasn’t addressed to Emily.”
“Who was it for?”
“Thomas.”
Claire looked up sharply.
Michael handed the letter to her.
She unfolded it carefully.
“What does it say?”
Michael hesitated.
“You should read it.”
Claire looked down.
Her lips moved silently.
Then her face changed.
“What?”
I stepped closer.
She handed the letter to me.
I read.
Thomas,
If Claire is yours, then you deserve to know.
Richard told me both girls died.
I now know that was a lie.
Rebecca believes one survived, but I suspect both survived.
If you have one of those girls, protect her.
But do not let Richard control what she knows.
My stomach tightened.
I looked at the date.
“This was written twenty-two years ago.”
Michael nodded.
Claire stared at the paper.
“My dad knew Richard had lied?”
“Yes.”
“For twenty-two years?”
Michael nodded.
Claire looked physically sick.
“Then why didn’t he tell me?”
No one answered.
Then Richard whispered, “Because I threatened him too.”
Every head turned.
Claire’s face hardened.
“What did you do?”
Richard’s eyes filled with shame.
“I told Thomas that if he tried to expose everything, Elaine would find out.”
Claire shook her head.
“That wouldn’t have been enough.”
Richard said nothing.
Claire stepped closer.
“What else?”
Silence.
“Richard.”
He finally looked at her.
“I told him you could be taken away.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
“You were still a minor.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I told him Rebecca could reopen the adoption.”
Mr. Collins frowned.
“Could she?”
“No.”
Claire turned toward Richard.
“So you lied.”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
Claire’s voice broke.
“You made my father afraid that telling me the truth would make him lose me.”
“Yes.”
She covered her face.
For a moment, she was no longer angry.
She was grieving.
Not a death.
A stolen conversation.
A truth her father had died carrying.
I put my arms around her.
She leaned into me.
“I loved him,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“He was a good dad.”
“I believe you.”
“He came to every school play.”
Her voice cracked.
“He taught me to ride a bike.”
I held her tighter.
“He sat outside my room when I was sick because he was afraid I’d stop breathing.”
My eyes filled.
Claire pulled away and looked at Richard.
“And you made him believe loving me meant lying to me.”
Richard whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
Her voice became calm.
“You’re sorry because everything is coming out.”
He looked wounded.
Maybe he deserved to.
Mr. Collins broke the silence.
“There may be a way to answer the biological question.”
Claire looked at him.
“How?”
“Thomas Foster’s medical records.”
Claire frowned.
“He’s dead.”
“Yes.”
“He died four years ago.”
Mr. Collins nodded.
“Henry knew.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did Henry do?”
“He located a preserved tissue sample from a surgery Thomas had several years before his death.”
Claire stared at him.
“He tested it?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Henry wanted your permission.”
Claire looked surprised.
“He cared about permission?”
The comment landed heavily.
Mr. Collins nodded.
“He regretted how he handled Emily’s sample.”
I looked down.
At least Henry had understood that much.
Claire took a breath.
“So the test can still be done?”
“Yes.”
“And we could determine whether Thomas was my biological father?”
“Yes.”
Claire looked at me.
“And whether David was Emily’s?”
Michael shook his head slightly.
“We already know Emily is biologically related to my family.”
I looked at him.
“But that doesn’t prove David specifically.”
“Correct.”
Mr. Collins added, “However, combined testing could likely clarify the relationships.”
Claire nodded slowly.
“I want it.”
Richard stood.
“No.”
Claire turned toward him.
He immediately realized how absurd the word sounded.
She almost smiled.
“You really have not learned anything today.”
Richard’s face tightened.
“That test could hurt people who aren’t here to defend themselves.”
Claire stared at him.
“Thomas is dead.”
“Yes.”
“David is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Henry is dead.”
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“Funny how all the dead men seem to have left more truth behind than you.”
Richard’s face collapsed.
My mother turned away.
Then Michael quietly said, “There’s another reason Richard doesn’t want the test.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
Richard’s head snapped toward Michael.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Michael opened the leather folder again.
“My father found something shortly before he died.”
Richard’s face went pale.
Michael removed a photograph.
It showed David and Thomas standing together.
Both younger.
Both smiling.
Rebecca stood between them.
Behind them was Richard.
I stared at the picture.
“When was this?”
“Several months before the twins were born.”
Claire took the photograph.
Then she noticed something written on the back.
She read it aloud.
“If anything happens, Tom knows the truth.”
I frowned.
“Who wrote that?”
Michael answered.
“My father.”
Claire looked toward Richard.
“What truth?”
Richard said nothing.
Michael continued.
“My father believed Thomas knew more about the pregnancy than he ever admitted.”
Claire stared at him.
“More than the paternity?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Michael looked toward Mr. Collins.
Mr. Collins opened another envelope.
“Henry believed the adoption arrangement was not originally Richard’s idea.”
Richard stood abruptly.
“Enough.”
Claire crossed her arms.
“Whose idea was it?”
No answer.
Mr. Collins looked at her.
“Thomas Foster’s.”
Claire went completely still.
“My father asked for me?”
“That is what Henry’s notes suggest.”
Claire whispered, “Why?”
Mr. Collins took a breath.
“Thomas may have known you were his before you were born.”
My stomach tightened.
Claire looked devastated.
“Then why pretend it was an adoption?”
“Because he was married.”
My mother whispered, “Elaine.”
Mr. Collins nodded.
“And because Rebecca initially refused to give either baby up.”
I looked toward Richard.
“But she eventually agreed.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mr. Collins looked uncomfortable.
“That part is complicated.”
Claire gave a humorless laugh.
“Apparently everything is.”
Mr. Collins continued.
“Rebecca’s statement says she changed her mind after receiving a medical diagnosis shortly after giving birth.”
My chest tightened.
“What diagnosis?”
Michael looked down.
Mr. Collins hesitated.
“She was told she had a serious heart condition.”
I stared at him.
“Was it true?”
“No.”
The answer chilled me.
Claire whispered, “What?”
Mr. Collins looked at Richard.
“The physician who gave Rebecca that diagnosis was later discovered to have a financial relationship with Richard Carter.”
My mother stared at him.
“No.”
Richard stood.
“You cannot prove I ordered anything.”
Mr. Collins didn’t react.
“I didn’t say you did.”
But his face said enough.
Claire looked at Richard.
“You made a healthy woman believe she was dying?”
Richard shook his head.
“That was not supposed to happen.”
Silence.
Those words were worse than a confession.
I stepped toward him.
“What was supposed to happen?”
He backed away.
“Emily.”
“What was supposed to happen?”
“I needed Rebecca to understand she couldn’t raise two children alone.”
My entire body went cold.
Claire whispered, “You scared her into giving us away.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“She was struggling.”
“So you lied to her.”
Richard looked cornered.
“I was trying to solve a problem.”
I stared at him.
“We were the problem.”
His face changed.
He realized what he had said.
I felt something inside me finally become calm.
For the first time all day, I wasn’t desperate for his explanations.
His explanations no longer mattered.
Only the truth did.
Mr. Collins quietly slid another document across the table.
“This is why Henry made one final amendment to his will.”
Richard froze.
My mother looked at him.
“What amendment?”
Mr. Collins opened a sealed page.
“The forty-two million dollars is not the only estate matter being decided today.”
I frowned.
“What else?”
Mr. Collins looked at Claire.
“Henry also purchased the former Foster family property three months ago.”
Claire blinked.
“My childhood home?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas left something inside it.”
Claire stopped breathing.
“What?”
“A safe.”
She frowned.
“We knew about Dad’s safe.”
“Not this one.”
Michael looked surprised.
Mr. Collins continued.
“It was concealed behind a wall in Thomas’s study.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“What was inside?”
Mr. Collins looked directly at her.
“Letters.”
Her voice shook.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Thirty-four.”
One for every year of her life.
Claire began crying again.
Mr. Collins continued.
“And one recorded statement.”
Richard went white.
Claire noticed.
“So you know about it.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
Mr. Collins looked at the document.
“Thomas recorded it six weeks before he died.”
Claire gripped my hand.
“What did he say?”
Mr. Collins took out a small flash drive.
“I have not listened to it.”
“Why?”
“Because Henry’s instructions say Claire must decide whether it is played.”
Claire stared at the drive.
Then at me.
Then at Michael.
Finally, she looked at Richard.
“Play it.”
Mr. Collins connected the drive to his laptop.
A video appeared.
Thomas Foster filled the screen.
Older.
Thin.
Tired.
Claire covered her mouth.
“Dad.”
He looked straight into the camera.
Then he began.
“Claire, if you are watching this, then I failed to tell you something while I was alive.”
Claire started crying.
Thomas continued.
“I have loved you from the first moment I held you.”
Richard turned away.
“But I did not first hold you when the adoption papers were signed.”
Claire froze.
Thomas looked down in the recording.
“I held you in the hospital the night you were born.”
Claire whispered, “Oh my God.”
Thomas continued.
“And that night, Rebecca asked me one question.”
The video paused for several seconds as Thomas struggled to breathe.
Then he said,
“She asked me to take both babies.”
Every person in the room froze.
I stared at Claire.
She stared at me.
Both babies.
Thomas had been asked to take both of us.
Then Thomas looked directly into the camera and said,
“I wanted to.”
Claire’s hand tightened around mine.
“But Richard refused.”
The room went completely silent.
Thomas continued.
“And what Richard did next is the reason Emily was separated from you.”
Richard moved toward the laptop.
Daniel blocked him.
Thomas’s recorded voice continued.
“Richard did not choose which twin to keep randomly.”
My heart began pounding.
“He chose Emily because she had something he needed.”
I stared at the screen.
Something he needed?
Thomas took a shaky breath.
Then said the words that made Richard close his eyes.
“Emily was the only twin whose blood type matched Richard Carter’s.”
PART 9 — WHY RICHARD NEEDED MY BLOOD
“Emily was the only twin whose blood type matched Richard Carter’s.”
The words hung in the room.
Nobody moved.
I stared at the laptop screen.
Then at Richard.
Then back at Thomas’s recorded face.
My voice barely worked.
“What does that mean?”
Richard looked away.
Claire gripped my hand.
Michael leaned forward.
Mr. Collins paused the video.
“Richard?”
Richard shook his head.
“This has gone far enough.”
I stood.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“It has not gone far enough.”
My voice was calm now.
Too calm.
“You watched me grow up inside a lie.”
I pointed at the screen.
“So you are going to sit there while I finally hear the truth.”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
Daniel stepped closer to me.
Not in front.
Beside me.
I looked at Mr. Collins.
“Play it.”
He pressed the button.
Thomas reappeared on the screen.
Older.
Tired.
But steady.
“Richard had been diagnosed with a serious blood disorder years earlier.”
I turned slowly toward Richard.
My mother stared at him.
“What disorder?”
Thomas continued.
“At the time the twins were born, Richard had already been told that his condition could eventually require a bone marrow transplant.”
My stomach dropped.
Claire whispered, “Oh my God.”
Thomas looked down at the recording.
“He did not tell Margaret.”
My mother’s face changed.
“You were sick?”
Richard said nothing.
She stepped closer.
“You never told me?”
“I didn’t want you worrying.”
Thomas continued.
“When the twins were born, Richard quietly asked the hospital to test both infants.”
I felt cold all over.
“For compatibility.”
The room disappeared.
I heard my own heartbeat.
Claire’s hand tightened around mine.
Thomas’s voice continued.
“One child had no meaningful match.”
Claire.
“The other showed a possible familial compatibility.”
Me.
I stared at Richard.
“You chose me because you thought you might need me.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Thomas’s recording kept playing.
“Richard became convinced Emily might someday save his life.”
My mother whispered, “Richard…”
He snapped, “It wasn’t like that.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“There it is again.”
Richard stood.
“I loved Emily.”
I stared at him.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Or did you keep me because my blood might be useful?”
His face broke.
“No.”
Thomas continued.
“Rebecca wanted both girls to remain together.”
Tears burned behind my eyes.
“Thomas was willing to take both children.”
Claire whispered, “Dad…”
“But Richard refused.”
I stared at the screen.
Thomas’s expression became heavier.
“He said separating the girls was temporary.”
My chest tightened.
“He claimed that once Margaret recovered emotionally, they would decide what to do.”
Richard looked at the floor.
Thomas continued.
“But I believe Richard had already decided.”
The video paused for a moment.
Then Thomas looked directly into the camera.
“He wanted Emily close because of his illness.”
My mother sat down slowly.
Claire covered her mouth.
Michael looked physically sick.
I turned toward Richard.
“Was that why you never let Rebecca see me?”
“No.”
“Was that why you stopped her letters?”
“No.”
“Was that why you told David I was dead?”
“No.”
His voice rose.
“I was trying to keep the family together.”
I laughed.
“You separated twins.”
Silence.
“You lied to three parents.”
Silence.
“You stole money.”
Silence.
“You intercepted seventeen letters from a man who might have been my father.”
Still nothing.
“And now I learn you may have kept me because you thought one day you could use my body.”
Richard snapped.
“I never used you.”
Thomas’s recorded voice interrupted him.
“There is one thing Claire does not know.”
Claire froze.
Thomas took a slow breath on screen.
“When Emily was seven years old, Richard’s condition worsened.”
I stopped breathing.
Something moved at the edge of my memory.
A hospital.
A white room.
My father telling me I was getting tests.
I whispered, “No.”
Daniel looked at me.
“What?”
I stared at Richard.
“I remember.”
He went pale.
My mother looked confused.
“Remember what?”
“When I was seven.”
I could hear my childhood voice.
I could smell antiseptic.
I remembered crying because I hated needles.
“You took me to a hospital.”
Richard closed his eyes.
My mother looked at him.
“You told me she had anemia.”
I stared at him.
“You told me doctors needed blood tests.”
He whispered, “They did.”
“For you?”
No answer.
Thomas continued.
“Richard had Emily tested as a potential marrow donor without telling her or Margaret the true reason.”
My mother stood so fast her chair fell backward.
“You did what?”
Richard looked panicked.
“I never went through with anything.”
“That is not the point!”
She screamed.
“You took our seven-year-old daughter to be tested for yourself?”
“She was safe.”
My mother stared at him.
“You lied to me.”
“I was scared.”
“And so you used her?”
“I did not use her!”
I spoke quietly.
“Was I a match?”
Richard looked at me.
Then away.
“Richard.”
His voice dropped.
“Yes.”
My body went numb.
Claire whispered, “Emily…”
I could barely hear her.
I remembered sitting in the back seat afterward.
Richard bought me ice cream.
Chocolate.
He told me I had been brave.
I had felt special.
I had thought my father loved me that day.
Now I understood why he looked so relieved.
I stared at him.
“What happened?”
He said nothing.
Mr. Collins paused the recording again.
“Richard?”
My mother was crying openly now.
“What happened after the test?”
Richard rubbed his face.
“My condition stabilized.”
“So you didn’t need the transplant.”
“No.”
My stomach twisted.
“And when I became sixteen?”
His face changed.
Everything connected at once.
Rebecca searching.
The counselor calling.
His rage.
His illness.
Me becoming less controllable.
I whispered, “You didn’t need me anymore.”
He looked up sharply.
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“No.”
“You kept me while I was useful.”
“Stop saying that.”
“And when your condition improved—”
“That had nothing to do with it.”
“Then why did you throw me out?”
“You betrayed me!”
His voice exploded.
The room fell silent.
Richard breathed heavily.
Then he realized what he had said.
I stared at him.
“I told a counselor you hit me.”
His expression hardened.
“You exposed private family matters.”
“I was a child asking for help.”
“You embarrassed me.”
“No.”
My voice became firm.
“I endangered your control.”
He said nothing.
Thomas’s video continued.
“I confronted Richard after Emily disappeared from the Carter home.”
Claire stared at the screen.
“He knew?”
Thomas continued.
“I told him I would take Emily myself if she needed somewhere safe.”
Richard shut his eyes.
My heart skipped.
Thomas had tried to take me.
Thomas, Claire’s father.
Maybe Claire’s biological father.
The man willing to keep us together from the beginning.
“I asked Richard where Emily was.”
Thomas’s recorded face tightened.
“He told me she had run away.”
My mother whispered, “Another lie.”
Thomas continued.
“But I did not believe him.”
I leaned closer.
“I searched.”
Claire began crying.
“For weeks.”
She pressed one hand to her mouth.
Thomas continued.
“By the time I discovered Henry had taken Emily in, I believed she was finally safe.”
My chest tightened.
He had known Uncle Henry had me.
“He knew where I was?”
Richard muttered, “Eventually.”
Thomas looked directly into the camera.
“I wanted to contact Emily.”
My throat closed.
“But Richard threatened to expose Claire’s possible biological connection to me in a way that would destroy Elaine.”
Claire shut her eyes.
“Dad.”
Thomas’s voice cracked on the recording.
“I was a coward.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
“I told myself keeping Claire’s family stable was the right thing.”
She was crying now.
“I regret that every day.”
Then Thomas picked up a piece of paper.
“There is something else Richard never expected me to keep.”
Richard suddenly stood.
“What?”
Thomas held the page toward the camera.
“A copy of Emily’s childhood compatibility report.”
Richard went completely still.
Mr. Collins looked sharply toward him.
Thomas continued.
“And a second report.”
My stomach tightened.
“What second report?” Daniel asked.
No one answered.
On screen, Thomas unfolded another page.
“When Emily was seven, the hospital performed additional genetic screening.”
I looked at Richard.
He looked terrified.
Thomas continued.
“That screening revealed something Richard did not tell Margaret.”
My mother whispered, “What?”
Thomas’s voice became quiet.
“Emily could not have been Richard’s biological child.”
The room froze.
Michael leaned forward.
Claire stared at me.
I looked at Richard.
“You knew.”
No answer.
“You knew when I was seven.”
His shoulders collapsed.
“Yes.”
I felt something inside me go completely still.
“So you knew David might be my father.”
“Yes.”
“Or someone else.”
“Yes.”
“And you still kept me.”
He looked at me.
“I had raised you.”
I almost laughed.
“No.”
My voice cracked.
“You kept me because I matched you.”
He shook his head.
“At first, maybe I thought about that.”
My mother gasped.
He continued quickly.
“But later I loved you.”
I stared at him.
“Later?”
He realized his mistake too late.
Claire looked disgusted.
Michael stood.
Daniel clenched his jaw.
My mother walked toward Richard.
Slowly.
Then she stopped directly in front of him.
“You let me love a child while believing you had rescued her.”
He whispered, “Margaret.”
“You let Emily believe you were her father.”
“I was her father.”
“No.”
My mother shook her head.
“A father does not calculate what his daughter’s blood can do for him.”
Richard looked broken.
Thomas’s video continued behind us.
“If Emily ever sees this, she deserves one final piece of truth.”
I turned toward the screen.
Thomas looked older suddenly.
Smaller.
“There was a third man involved.”
Everyone froze.
Michael whispered, “What?”
Richard’s face changed again.
Pure panic.
Claire looked at him.
“You knew.”
Richard backed away.
Thomas continued.
“Rebecca was not certain whether David or Thomas was the father of the twins.”
That much we knew.
“But there was another reason she was uncertain.”
My heart began pounding.
Thomas lowered his eyes.
“She had been unconscious during part of the night when the twins were conceived.”
The room went dead silent.
I felt sick.
Claire whispered, “What does that mean?”
Thomas continued carefully.
“Rebecca believed something happened to her that she did not consent to.”
Richard shouted, “Turn it off!”
Daniel moved between him and the laptop.
“No.”
Richard’s face went white.
Thomas continued.
“She never knew who entered the room.”
My mother slowly turned toward Richard.
“No.”
Thomas looked directly into the camera.
“But years later, I found a letter.”
Richard rushed forward.
Michael and Daniel stopped him.
He struggled.
“Turn it off!”
Mr. Collins did not.
Thomas raised a faded envelope.
“It was written by Richard to a doctor friend.”
My blood turned cold.
Thomas continued.
“In that letter, Richard admitted he had been in Rebecca’s apartment that night.”
Claire whispered, “Oh my God.”
My mother stared at him in horror.
Richard stopped struggling.
Thomas’s final words landed like stone.
“And that is why Richard never wanted a complete DNA test.”
I could barely breathe.
Then Thomas said,
“Because if neither David nor I fathered Emily…”
He paused.
“…then Richard already knows who did.”
Every eye turned toward him.
Richard’s face collapsed.
I whispered,
“Who?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“WHO?”
My mother looked at him.
Claire looked at him.
Michael looked at him.
Daniel looked at him.
Richard finally sank into the chair.
Then he whispered,
“My brother.”
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