She agreed silently. “I assumed I was guarding your peace. Guarding our children as well.”
“By permitting outsiders to assume you were unfaithful?”
Moisture slipped down her face. “I lacked any knowledge regarding what alternative to take. My mother claimed that assuming the truth surfaced, it would destroy our entire existence.”
I released a gradual exhale.
“They preferred that my spouse wear a badge of shame,” I stated with low volume, “rather than confess the reality concerning their personal ancestry.”
Eli belonged to us in absolutely every manner; he merely displayed stronger traits of the grandmother they attempted to wipe away.
“When I ultimately shared the reality regarding my lineage with the physician, they directed us toward a biology expert,” she pushed forward. “The specialist examined my files and remarked, ‘Lily… your system has borne a pair of separate histories since before your own arrival.'”
“That sounds… fascinating,” I replied.
“She clarified the concept plainly — occasionally, a female merges with a sibling during early development, and she becomes capable of holding dual genetic codes. Uncommon, yet entirely genuine.”
I bobbed my head.
“Yet assuming I informed anyone, my relatives would be forced to confess every detail they spent decades burying. They strongly preferred allowing the public to suspect my infidelity over facing the truth.”
I stretched toward her frame, yet she pulled backward.
