A flicker of pain crossed Nestor’s eyes. “I had the test done this afternoon. The results say she’s my biological daughter.”
Catherine’s heart thudded. A hazy memory rushed back. She lifted her right hand, staring at the faint scar on her palm.
“Dad, when I was fourteen, I was so mad you married Alice. I smashed a glass decoration in my room and cut my hand. Alice came in with tissues and cleaned up the blood for me. I was scared you’d get mad, so I hid it and never told you.”
Nestor’s eyes widened. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. “So that bloody tissue Alice gave me, it was yours? Not Shirley’s?”
Catherine nodded as the memory became clear. “Dad, Alice cut Shirley’s palm right in front of you so you’d see the blood and believe it was hers. But she actually kept the tissue she used to wipe my blood.”
Nestor felt a wave of fury and his body shook. This hurt more than anything. The child he’d raised all these years wasn’t his own.
Alice had lied to him, taken his love and his money, and made him push aside his real daughter for her and her child.
His grip tightened on the blanket. A raw, painful groan slipped out.
“That woman…”
“Dad, please calm down.” Catherine rushed to his side, worried. She felt a sting in her heart for her father, seeing him tricked and hurt by Alice’s schemes.


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