Chapter 2

I asked, "Dad, why was there a child listed on my family records?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Victor gave a couple of awkward laughs.

"What child? Are you working too much and seeing things?"

I laughed too.

"There was also an ex‑husband. His name was Sebastian Zane."

This time, his breathing became heavier.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"At the police station."

The moment I finished speaking, the call ended.

I called back. His phone was turned off.

I stared at the screen and remembered all those times over the past few years when he urged me to come home, asked me for copies of my ID, or acted helpless and said his health insurance needed verification. Things I had never paid attention to before suddenly made sense.

I did not send him a message demanding an explanation.

I opened my flight app and changed my ticket to the earliest flight available.

I stood in the airport terminal with my suitcase in hand at one o’clock in the morning.

My name was Maya Delaney. I was thirty years old, unmarried, and had no children.

Yet the state records had rewritten my entire life for me.

Marriage, a child, and a divorce.

My child was already five years old.

I laughed.

I had to admit, my father was impressive.

While I worked overtime, he had already used my life to make a fortune by marrying into a wealthy family.

Fine. I would go back.

I wanted to see who had written this absurd script.

…

My hometown apartment complex looked exactly the same.

The moment I pushed open the door, I heard laughter coming from the living room.

The table was covered with seafood, liquor, and cake.

Victor sat at the head of the table. His face was flushed from drinking.

My cousin, Selena, wore a silk dress, and the watch on her wrist caught the light with a dazzling shine.

Several relatives sat around her and praised her.

"Selena was really successful now. She bought a luxury apartment like it was nothing."

"Girls were lucky. Marrying well mattered more than anything."

Selena covered her mouth and smiled. "Oh, come on. I only got here through my own hard work."

I stood at the doorway. The wheels of my suitcase hit the threshold with a dull thud.

Everyone turned to look at me.

The glass in Victor’s hand slipped and shattered on the floor.

Selena’s smile froze for half a second.

"Maya? You came back without telling us?"

I ignored her.

I walked to the dining table and slapped the police report receipt down.

"Explain."

The entire room went silent.

My aunt stretched her neck to take a look. Her expression changed instantly before she quickly looked away.

Victor reacted the fastest.

He rose to his feet. "Maya, what was the meaning of this? Coming home in the middle of the night just to throw a tantrum?"

I looked straight at him.

"I am asking you how my marriage record and this child ended up on my state records."

His voice rose. "Family matters should be handled behind closed doors. Do you have to make a scene in front of everyone?"

"A scene?"

I took out the printed copy of the marriage registration scan and placed it in front of Selena.

"You used my ID to get married and my degree to go on blind dates. You also used my name to register a child."

Selena put down her glass and slowly stood up.

"Maya, you do not need to act like some victim."

She continued, "Back then, the Zane family’s marriage requirements were a bachelor’s degree and a clean family background. Your education was sitting there unused. What was wrong with me borrowing it?"

No one in the room said anything.

Which meant they had all known.

Victor stepped in. "Your cousin did not have the advantages you had growing up. As her older sister, helping her out was not wrong."

"Helping?"

I looked at the man I had called Dad for thirty years.

"You stole my identity, forged a marriage registration, and put a child who was not mine under my name. You call that helping?"

Victor slammed his hand on the table. "Look at you. You are perfectly fine. Are you missing an arm or a leg? You are educated, you have a good job, you will have no trouble finding a husband. Selena was different. She had a hard life.

"So what? Help her a little. What was wrong with that?"

I had heard those words for more than twenty years.

Before, I thought it was favoritism.

Now I understood.

Favoritism was only a cover for something uglier.

Selena raised an eyebrow. "Besides, I was already divorced. I did not ruin anything for you. Remove the records now, and everything will be fine."

"What about the child?"

She froze for a moment.

"What child?"

"Luke Zane."

Her expression finally changed.

She quickly put on that same careless look again.

"What does that child have to do with me? It is already written in the records. He is your son."

That sentence cut through me like ice.