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“Who is he? Tell me,” Leonardo demanded with an anxious tone.

“Our father is Larson Scott,” Emmanuel announced and watched the colour drain from his brother’s face.

Confusion marred his expression. “As in your father? The man who raised you?”

“Yes.” Emmanuel confirmed.

“You did not know all this time?” Leonardo asked. The accusation was loud and clear.

“Until recently, I thought he and the woman that raised me were my biological parents. Then, for a little while, I thought they were my adoptive parents. Now. I know Larson is our father. He and our mother had an affair.”

Leonardo stood up abruptly. “An affair?” He paced. “I’m not sure I would call it that. I have a question for you.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“How old was your father when you were born?”

What an odd question.

“I don’t know.” Emmanuel did the math in his head. “Mid-twenties I guess.”

At the same time, Frank answered. “Twenty-eight.”

His friend was a whiz at remembering people’s birthdays and ages. Not only people he knew, historical figures as well.

Leonardo stopped pacing. He shook his head as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “Your father is a real piece of shit, huh?” He asked.

“Yes.” It wasn’t like Emmanuel could deny it. Look at the havoc Larson and his lies caused.

Leonardo sat at the edge of the seat he had previously occupied. The man scoffed as he ran his hand over his face. “Did you know my mom’s birthday is two weeks before ours?”

Emmanuel hadn’t noticed her birthday and wasn’t sure where he was going with this piece of information.

“No. I didn’t know when her birthday was,” he answered cautiously.

“Yeah. Birthdays were always hard for her. If she didn’t relapse on her birthday, she would relapse on mine or shortly after.” Leonardo had a faraway look as he recounted this information. The more he found out about his mother, the more conflicted Emmanuel felt.

Concetta had cheated with his father. Emmanuel was watching his Mom deal with the fallout of the pain of that betrayal. Part of him wanted to excuse it because of how substance abuse ruined her life. After reading her diary, he felt for her. Maybe it was the bond he had for the mother he didn’t know. Who knew?

Emmanuel was so lost in his thoughts; he almost missed his brother’s question. “Do you know how old Mom was when she gave birth to us?”

“No.” A feeling of dread started in the pit of his stomach. “How old was she?”

“Well, at least she was legally an adult. She gave birth to us two weeks after turning eighteen years old.”

All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room.Who the fuck was Larson Scott?

If she gave birth to them when she was eighteen, that meant Larson was at least sleeping with a seventeen-year-old girl. Who knew how long it had been going on? It could have been when she was younger. His stomach roiled.

Leonardo and Emmanuel echoed each other. “What a piece of shit!” they spat out simultaneously.

Concetta, his mother, was a fucking child! Not much older than Sage. His little baby girl. No wonder she couldn’t handle having her children separated. What the fuck had Larson done? Emmanuel was going to be fucking sick. Of all the things he had discovered about Larson, this was the worst. He had taken advantage of a child and then ripped one of her children from her.

“How did this happen? How did they even meet?” Leonardo asked. “I want to have words with this… man. He fucking ruined her life. She never had a chance.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What? Why do we have to wait until tomorrow? Are you trying to protect your father?”

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