For a moment, I thought I had heard him wrong.
“My father?”
Damiano didn’t answer.
I looked at the photograph again.
My mother was smiling.
That alone was strange.
I barely remembered her smile. Most of my memories of her were old and blurry, pieces of a life that had disappeared before I was old enough to understand it.
But the man standing beside her was clear.
And now Damiano was telling me that man was his father.
I looked up slowly.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Then explain it.”
His jaw tightened.
“Not here.”
I laughed.
“Of course. Not here. Not now. Maybe tomorrow? Or next year?”
“Elena.”
“No.”
I stepped away from him.
“You don’t get to say my name like that and expect me to calm down.”
Daniel touched my shoulder.
“Elena, we should leave.”
I looked at him.
He l
