Then he reached over and placed his hand on my arm.
“Thank you for fighting for me, Dawn.”
My chest tightened at the sound of my name. It hurt, but it was honest. And honest was more than I’d had for eighteen years.
“Thank you for fighting for me.”
“I’m requesting every record,” I said. “Then I’m speaking to a lawyer. Doctor Jefferson and my mother don’t get to hide behind eighteen years of silence.”
Behind us, Riley shouted, “Rowan! Rex says vanilla cake counts as a personality flaw!”
Rowan laughed under his breath.
I watched him stand and walk toward his brothers.
Peggy had stolen eighteen years from us. No lawyer could hand those years back.
But that night, my son was no longer a secret, a lie, or an empty place at the table.
