I felt a chill.
-And now?
—It appeared six months ago.
The same time that the Millers had begun preparing those documents.
—Who found it?
My father gave me the letter.
—Charles Miller.
I opened the envelope.
The first page was a copy of a will.
And next to my mother's name appeared another surname.
Miller.
I raised my head.
-I don't understand.
My father closed his eyes.
—Charles didn't meet your mother through David.
He paused.
—I knew her long before you were born.
Then he pointed to the last page.
There was a clause there, handwritten by my mother:
“If my daughter Anna ever marries a member of the Miller family, Robert must tell her the truth before their first child is born.”
I looked at my father.
—What truth?
He took too long to respond.
And when he finally spoke, I understood that my marriage to David had never been the coincidence I thought it was.
—The reason Charles Miller had been looking for you since you were eight years old.
