11
I found Marty sitting on a bench outside.
He looked up when I approached him but said nothing as I sat next to him.
He wasn't talking to me, it seems.
"You know who my biological father is, right?" I said. "The real version, not the official one."
Marty nodded.
But then, it wasn't a rhetorical question.
"And that my mother was an ordinary person," I said, "and that she died eighteen years after she gave birth to me. She was forty, but her health was destroyed by carrying me."
He nodded. This time, I could see sympathy in his eyes, as he extended his hand towards mine, interlacing our fingers.
"But there is another important detail that you may not realize," I said, breathing deeply. "My mother was a single mother. I had no father. The world is much nicer now than it was in the
