At 18, my parents forced me to give up my newborn son

Then he said something that made my blood run cold.

“There’s something else. When I was twelve, I found a photograph hidden inside my adoptive mother’s jewelry box. It was a picture of a young woman holding a newborn baby. On the back, someone had written a name.”

He paused.

“Fabian.”

I covered my mouth.

“Do you still have that photograph?”

“I do.”

“Can I see it?”

Daniel nodded, but he didn’t move.

Instead, he asked me a question.