Meryl's POV
After we finished dinner and the house settled into quiet stillness with Gavin already tucked into bed, I found myself sitting at my vanity, running a brush through my hair in slow, methodical strokes. The soft rhythm was soothing until a gentle tap interrupted the silence.
"Come in," I called out.
Mother entered, her face carrying that particular weight I'd grown to recognize over the past days. She moved with careful steps and settled herself on the edge of my bed, her hands folded so tightly in her lap that her knuckles had gone white.
For several heartbeats, she simply watched me, as if gathering courage for whatever words she needed to say.
"Meryl," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I need to know... Gavin's father... is he..."
The shrill ring of her cell phone sliced through her unfinished question like a blade. She startled, nearly dropping the device as she scrambled to answer.
"Hello?" Her voice cracked slightly.
