“Apparently that's what Dad told everyone.”
Something inside my chest cracked.
Not because Michael had lied about me.
I expected that.
But because for thirteen years I had worried that maybe I hadn't tried hard enough to preserve a relationship between him and the boys.
Meanwhile, Michael had apparently solved his guilt by rewriting history.
“He told people I kept you from him?”
“Yes.”
Noah's voice hardened.
“Evan believed it until he found the old emails.”
“What emails?”
The boys exchanged another look.
“There are emails from you,” Noah said.
“Hundreds.”
My eyes burned.
“From when?”
“Birthdays.
Christmases.
School events.”
I remembered every one.
Photos attached.
Invitations.
Updates.
Noah lost his first tooth.
Nathan made the soccer team.
Parent-teacher conferences are Thursday.
They keep asking about you.
Please call them.
Michael, I am begging you.
They think they’ve done something wrong.
I covered my mouth.
Nathan moved beside me.
“Mom.”
I shook my head.
“I’m fine.”
I wasn't.
“Why didn't you tell me eight months ago?”
“Because Evan asked us not to.”
“Why?”
“He was scared.”
“Of Michael?”
Noah nodded.
“He lives with him.”
A terrible thought occurred to me.
“Does Rebecca know?”
“We don't think so.”
“What exactly did Evan give you?”
Nathan stared down at his hands.
“Enough to prove Dad stole your research.”
I whispered, “That doesn't matter anymore.”
Both boys looked at me.
“Yes,” I said.
“It was wrong.
But that was seventeen years ago.
I'm not rebuilding my entire life around revenge.”
Noah shook his head.
“You don't understand.”
“What?”
“The company didn't just use your equations.”
Nathan completed the sentence.
“They patented them.”
I stared.
Noah continued.
“And there's an assignment document saying you transferred everything voluntarily.”
“I never signed anything.”
“We know.”
“How?”
“Because the signature isn't yours.”
My skin went cold.
“Someone forged it.”
Neither boy spoke.
