Lucas asked.
“Are you Ethan?”
Ethan looked at him.
Something in his face broke.
“Yes.”
“I’m Lucas.”
Henry stepped forward.
“Henry.”
Then Jack.
“Jack.”
Sam remained near me.
His voice was softer.
“Sam.”
Ethan looked like he could not breathe.
The helicopter lifted behind us.
Snow swirled.
No escape.
No noise left to hide behind.
He looked at me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I laughed.
Just once.
Not because it was funny.
Because the question was so unbelievable.
“I did.”
“No.”
“You told me you might be pregnant.”
“No.”
“I told you I was pregnant.”
“I told you there were four.”
“I sent ultrasound records.”
“I sent certified letters.”
“I sent birth notices.”
His expression changed.
“What birth notices?”
I stopped.
“You never received them?”
Ethan stared.
“No.”
That was not the answer I expected.
My anger shifted slightly.
“Your attorney did.”
His jaw tightened.
“What attorney?”
“Martin Keller.”
Ethan went still.
Martin had represented him during our divorce.
Then William spoke.
“He died four years ago.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
Ethan looked at me.
“What did you send?”
“Medical records.”
“Hospital notices.”
“Birth certificates.”
“Requests for paternity acknowledgment.”
His face grew paler with every sentence.
“I never saw any birth certificates.”
I stared.
“Your office responded.”
“What response?”
I could quote it from memory.
“Mr. Caldwell declines further communication regarding unsupported pregnancy claims.”
Ethan looked physically ill.
Margaret turned toward him.
“Ethan?”
He looked at her.
“I never authorized that sentence.”
My pulse quickened.
Natalie said.
“Maybe we should go inside.”
No one moved.
Ethan looked at the boys again.
