Sally's POV
My chest constricts as I stare at Karl. This man who once held my entire world in his hands. Now he sits before me like a ghost wearing a beloved face.
Every fiber of my being screams that I should despise him. Logic demands hatred. Yet something deeper refuses to comply.
Especially when those familiar eyes meet mine with the same warmth I see reflected in my son's gaze every morning.
I drag my sleeve across my damp cheeks, steadying my breathing.
"Tell me everything," I command, my voice sharper than intended.
"I'm attempting to find the right words. The beginning feels impossible to locate," Karl exhales heavily.
He settles onto the floor directly in front of me. Philip mirrors his position, displaying equal curiosity about whatever confession is coming. Has Karl kept this story from him too?
The possibility that Philip never heard about my existence sends an unexpected stab of pain through my ribs.
