"Son."
Son? Was this his dad? They didn't look at all alike.
I could feel him tense up beside me, giving my hand a light squeeze.
"I am not your son." He says, his jaw clenched and his other hand balling into a fist.
"I adopted you." The man replies. His adopted father? That makes more sense.
"I didn't need you to adopt me. I was fine." He says through gritted teeth.
"You were twelve and had a newborn in your hands. I couldn't just walk away." A newborn at twelve? When did this boy lose his virginity?
"You could have. You've made my life living hell."
"Come home, son." His adopted father says in a rich-like voice.
"Do not call me that." He resists the urge to point a finger at him, but retracts it quickly.
"But that's who you are. I raised you until last year when you moved out.
