Lena stood frozen, utterly unable to move, as Lana’s words echoed through the small living room and settled heavily into the air between them, turning it dense, almost unbreathable, because the truth they carried was not just unexpected—it was explosive.
Their father.
The very word had been taboo for as long as Lena could remember, an invisible line neither of them dared to cross without drawing blood, especially after their mother’s death, when whatever fragile balance they had left became their only anchor.
Their mother had been an orphan, with no known relatives, no cousins, no grandparents to trace back to, which meant that when she died, it was just the two of them against the world, and the subject of the man who had abandoned them had become a quiet but constant source of tensio
