Brenda’s PovI read the papers more than four times and thought I was dreaming. The whole day, I had spent it, reading through, flipping pages and praying to the goddess that maybe I was dyslexic but now I held the adoption papers in my hands, and I waved them around his face which had gone pale, a confirmation that I wasn’t just speaking gibberish.“Where..where did you find those?” He stuttered, his eyes flickering with anxiety.“Does it matter?!” I yelled “Tell me it isn’t true..tell me this is fake, fabricated, a big fat lie even” I pleaded with tears trickling down face. He edged closer to me, his jaw clenched and his demeanor had shifted from calm and apologetic to spiteful. “I won’t ask again Brenda, where on earth did you get these?” His voice came off as low but not comforting low, it felt like dread.“From the archives” I answered clearly, fear had nothing on me, I was with his child, there was nothing that could be done, not to me at least. “And now that’s been answered, y
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