A DNA test changed everything. I, Billy, thought I was living a perfect life as an only child until the results revealed a brother named Daniel. Confused, I called the testing company, but they confirmed the match was accurate. That night, I nervously confronted my dad.
“Do you know someone named Daniel?” I asked. His face paled, and he admitted to having an affair years ago, urging me not to tell Mom. I felt uneasy; there had to be more to the story.
Unable to sleep, I reached out to Daniel, who quickly agreed to meet. When we did, he looked just like me. He recounted memories of our childhood, including a fire that took our parents away. Shocked, I realized I had no recollection of it.
After our meeting, I snuck into my dad’s office, discovering documents about the fire. It detailed how my adoptive parents had ignored safety complaints, leading to the tragedy. I was not only adopted; my new parents had covered their tracks.
That evening, I confronted Dad. He stammered about not wanting to relive painful memories, but I could see the truth. Heartbroken, I packed my things and left for Daniel’s home.
As we sat together, he said, “They stole you from me.” My world had been a lie, but now I had found a real connection with my brother, who had been waiting for me all along.
