Chapter 2 — Prom Night and the Truth
Prom night arrived with excitement filling the house.
Helen decorated the living room with balloons, flowers, ribbons, and a camera ready for pictures. Ava wore the blue dress she had chosen herself. Her hair was softly curled, and her face glowed with nervous happiness.
“My daughter is really grown up now,” Helen said.
Ava laughed.
“I’m just going to prom, Mom.”
“With a boy you’re bringing home for the first time,” Helen teased. “That’s serious.”
Ava never imagined that joke would become true in the most painful way.
When the doorbell rang, Ava ran to open it.
Marcus stood outside in a simple black jacket. He looked nervous, holding a small bouquet for Ava and a box of pastries for her parents.
“I didn’t know what to buy,” Marcus said. “The lady at the store said adults usually like pastries.”
Ava laughed.
“You’re fine. Don’t worry.”
Marcus took a deep breath.
“Am I shaking?”
“Yes.”
“Is it obvious?”
“More obvious than you think.”
Ava held his hand.
“My parents will like you.”
Marcus looked at her as if he wanted to believe it.
Then they stepped inside.
Helen welcomed him warmly.
“Hello, Marcus. I’ve heard Ava mention you many times.”
Marcus bowed politely.
“Hello, ma’am. I brought some pastries.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.”
Ava smiled and turned to introduce him to her father.
“Dad, this is—”
Her sentence stopped.
The smile on Daniel’s face had vanished.
He stood in the middle of the room, still holding the camera, but his eyes were locked on Marcus.
It was not the look of a father judging his daughter’s boyfriend.
It was the look of a man being dragged back into a memory he had tried to bury.
Marcus noticed it too.
“Hello, sir,” he said carefully.
Daniel did not answer.
Helen frowned.
“Daniel?”
Ava felt Marcus’s hand turn cold in hers.
“Dad?” she called softly. “What’s wrong?”
That was when Daniel’s gaze fell to the necklace around Marcus’s neck.
The silver pendant showed beneath his collar.
The small letter M.
A thin scratch on the left edge.
Daniel staggered backward.
“No…” he whispered.
Marcus instinctively touched the necklace.
“Is there something wrong with it?”
Helen stepped forward.
“Daniel, you’re scaring the children.”
Daniel’s face was pale.
“You…” he said, staring at Marcus. “What is your full name?”
“Marcus Reed.”
“Reed?”
“That’s the last name of the woman who raised me.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“What is her name?”
“Rosa Reed.”
When Daniel heard that name, he nearly dropped the camera.
Helen froze.
“Daniel, who is Rosa Reed?”
Daniel did not answer right away. He only stared at Marcus — at his face, his eyes, his brows. Features Daniel had seen in the mirror every morning, yet never imagined he would one day see on the face of a young man standing inside his home.
Ava began to panic.
“Dad, do you know Rosa?”
Marcus looked at Daniel, his voice sharper now.
“You know the woman who raised me?”
Daniel struggled to speak.
“She used to be a friend of… Elena.”
Marcus froze.
It was the first time he had ever heard that name from a stranger’s mouth.
“Who is Elena?”
Daniel looked at Marcus as if he could no longer run from the truth.
“Your mother.”
The room fell completely silent.
Marcus stepped back.
“No. You can’t know my mother.”
“I do,” Daniel said, his voice breaking. “I knew her.”
Ava clenched her hands.
“What does Marcus’s mother have to do with you?”
Helen stared at Daniel.
“Daniel, say it.”
Daniel looked at his wife, then at his daughter, and finally at Marcus.
“That boy is my son.”
After that sentence, no one was able to stand firmly inside the world they used to know.
Marcus pulled the necklace out from his collar and gripped it tightly.
“That’s impossible.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Marcus—”
“Don’t say my name like you have the right to.”
The coldness in his voice made Daniel stop.
Ava looked at Marcus, her eyes red.
“Marcus…”
He looked at her, but his gaze was no longer the same. Not because he hated her, but because he was too hurt, too confused, and too shocked to know how to look at her.
Minutes ago, he had been her boyfriend.
Now, he might be her half-brother.
Ava stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.
Helen covered her mouth as tears fell.
“Daniel,” she whispered. “When did this happen?”
“Before I met you,” Daniel said.
“Then why did I never know?”
Daniel was silent.
“Because I believed the baby was dead.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“How touching. A father thinks his son is dead, and the son grows up not knowing who he is.”
“Marcus, I—”
“Don’t talk like you’re the only victim here.”
Ava felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She did not know whom to hurt for first — her mother, her father, Marcus, or herself.
Helen whispered to Ava, “Go upstairs. Your father and I need to talk.”
Ava shook her head.
“No. I have the right to know too.”
Marcus looked toward the door.
“I think I should go.”
Ava immediately said, “Don’t.”
Her voice broke.
“I don’t know what to call you anymore, but please don’t leave like this.”
Daniel looked at Marcus.
“If you want answers, I’ll tell you everything.”
Marcus gripped the necklace.
“I want the truth. Not the version that hurts less.”
May you like
Daniel nodded.
“All right. The whole truth.”
