I took a DNA test out of curiosity, and the results came back with a shocker: I had a brother named Daniel.
I asked my dad about it, and he went pale.
“Listen,” he said, his voice shaky. “Don’t tell your mom. She doesn’t know. I had an affair years ago. If she finds out, she’ll leave.”
I promised to keep quiet, but I had to know more. So, I reached out to Daniel, and we met up.
“You remember the lake by our old house?” he asked, grinning. “We’d swing on that old swing set and throw rocks.”
I frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We never lived together.”
He looked confused. “What do you mean? We lived together until we were five. And Scruffy, the dog, he’d follow us everywhere.”
I stiffened. “My dad says you’re the affair child. I only found out about you days ago.”
Daniel’s face fell. “Wait… you think I’m the affair child?” He paused, a dark look crossing his face. “So you don’t remember THAT DAY?”
A chill ran down my spine. That day?
I shook my head slowly. “What… what are you talking about?”
Daniel’s expression darkened. He leaned in, lowering his voice.
“I’m not the affair child,” he said firmly. “You are.”
My heart stopped.
I let out a nervous laugh. “That’s ridiculous. My parents—”
Daniel cut me off. “I remember everything, but you… you don’t, do you?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
“You were five when they took you,” he whispered. “We lived together. We were a family. And then, one day, you just… disappeared.”
I felt sick. “That doesn’t make any sense. My parents raised me, Daniel. They’ve been married for decades.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “They might be your parents now, but they weren’t always.”
The blood rushed in my ears.
“What happened?” I whispered.
Daniel exhaled sharply. “One day, our mom took you to the park. She turned her back for a second… and when she looked again, you were gone.”
I swallowed hard. “Gone?”
Daniel nodded.
“They searched everywhere. Mom never forgave herself. She always said she should’ve held onto your hand, that if she had just turned a second earlier…” His voice cracked. “She thought you were kidnapped.”
I felt the floor tilt beneath me.
“You’re lying,” I whispered. “My dad—”
Daniel pulled out his phone, scrolled, and handed it to me.
A photo filled the screen.
A grainy old picture of two boys, standing in front of a swing set, holding hands.
One of them was me.
My stomach lurched.
Everything I knew—everything I believed about my life—was suddenly in question.
Daniel’s voice was gentle but firm.
“Our mom never stopped looking for you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath coming in shaky gasps.
If what Daniel was saying was true, then my whole life—my whole identity—had been a lie.
And the man I called Dad?
He didn’t just have an affair.
He stole me.