I couldn’t make out the words. My hands were shaking far too badly.
“We found what our biological father left behind. You were never our uncle,” Ava said into the microphone. “You were always our dad.”She slid a framed court order into my hands.
Claire wiped the tears from her face onstage.
“We just made the paperwork match the truth.”
June stood and wrapped her arms around me. The entire room rose to its feet. I don’t remember leaving.
Three weeks later, I was back above the hardware store, putting two frames on the wall beside the window. The gas receipt note went on the left. The adoption papers went on the right. I remained there for a long time, staring at both.
I don’t remember walking out.
For twenty years, I’d thought of it as a sacrifice.
But as I stood in that quiet apartment, I finally realized it hadn’t been one. It was the life I’d chosen. And somewhere along the way, that life had chosen me too.
