“Deserved.”
Maybe five percent.
But revenge was not why I went.
If revenge were the goal, I could have sent Adrian a photograph.
A DNA test.
Four birth certificates.
One email.
I went because Ethan, Lucas, Noah and Miles had reached the age where my protection could no longer become their cage.
They deserved to know where half their biology came from.
They deserved the right to choose.
And Adrian deserved something too.
Not forgiveness.
Truth.
Even someone who failed terribly should have the chance to face what he refused to see.
What he did afterward became the measure of him.
Many years later, Adrian and I sat on the porch at Cedarcrest Estate while snow covered the field where the helicopter had landed.
The boys were grown.
His father had passed away.
Vanessa was inside helping Adrian’s mother prepare dinner.
Adrian looked toward the field.
“You know what I remember?”
