She answered the door in her gardening gloves, surprise flickering across her face. “Rachel! I wasn’t expecting…”
“Sophie said something,” I interrupted, my voice weakening. “She said she has a brother. And that he lives here.”
Helen’s face went pale. She pulled off her gloves slowly, not meeting my eyes. “Come inside,” she said quietly.
We sat in her living room, surrounded by framed photos of Sophie — birthday parties, holidays, ordinary afternoons. But now I was looking for what wasn’t there.
“Is there something Evan didn’t tell me?” I urged. “Is there a child I don’t know about?”
Helen’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s not what you think, dear.”
She took a long, shaky breath before she spoke. “There was someone before you,” she started. “Before you and Evan ever met.”
My stomach dropped. “He was in a serious relationship. They were young, but they were trying. When she got pregnant, they were scared… but they wanted it. They talked about names. About their future.”
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