I got up.
My knees were shaking.
I turned to Mark.
“Tell me the truth.”
He looked at me.
"All".
Her lips trembled.
It does not work.
May.
"Emma, you don't understand."
NO.
I pointed at Stefan.
“You’re right. I don’t understand it.”
Then I pointed at Cole.
"I don't understand why my son has been fighting for years with a boy who claims to be his brother."
My voice failed me.
"I don't understand why this child looks so much like my son."
I took another step towards Mark.
"And I don't understand why you're standing here so horrified, staring at me."
Mark's eyes filled with tears.
For a moment I thought he was finally going to tell me.
Instead, he whispered:
"Because Stefan isn't the only thing you don't know."
My
His heart stopped.
"What does that mean?"
Mark looked at Laura.
She shook her head.
– Tell him.
He didn't do it.
"Tell me!"
The headmaster stood up.
"Perhaps we should grant everyone some privacy."
NO.
I shook my head.
"Nobody is leaving."
Mark looked at me.
I could see the battle raging inside him.
Finally, he put it in the inside pocket of his jacket.
He pulled out an old envelope.
The paper was yellow.
Wrinkled.
Used at the edges.
My name was on the front.
My handwriting.
I recognized him immediately.
I looked at the envelope.
"Where did you get that?"
Mark did not reply.
I achieved it.
He withdrew it.
– Not here.
"Give it to me."
– Emma, please.
"Give it to me!"
He handed it over slowly.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
Inside there was only a single photograph.
I took it out.
And my whole world disappeared.
Two newborn babies stood next to each other.
Wrapped in identical white blankets.
