Lucas laughed once, sharp and disbelieving. "That's science fiction."
"I thought so, too," Dad said. "At first."
He paused.
"I asked questions. They gave answers. They started making more and more sense. The American family in decline. Birthrates plunging. What if we could seed the future differently? Give it a chance?"
Caleb's hands clenched into fists on the table.
"I wasn't convinced at first," Dad admitted. "It took days. But when I spent time with Victoria, I thought I could see us doing it. I asked if I could pick the woman."
His voice cracked slightly.
"They said yes. Of course. That would be best."
Gideon exhaled slowly. "You told her."
"I did," Dad said. "And to my surprise, she didn't back away. She was intrigued. Started making plans. Coming up with baby names."
He looked at me.
"That's when the cracks started showing. She had episodes. She was damaged."
I felt sick.
"So, Victoria wasn't chosen," Dad continued. "Caroline, the mother of the Charleston boys was picked, instead."
He gestured vaguely toward Silas and his brothers.
"And it went well from the beginning. My superiors were eager. So, they found another."
His gaze swept over the Montana Danes.
"Your mother. Lila."
The air left the room.
"In my youth and excitement," Dad said quietly, "I saw little wrong with what we were doing. Each woman knew what she was getting into. And I fell in love with each one of them. And they with me."
His voice broke.
"And more importantly, I fell in love with my sons the moment they were born."
Complete silence.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Truly, this sounded like science fiction.
But the proof was sitting right here.
Fourteen sons. Two families. One father.
All of us planned for, engineered.
Dad stood slowly, pushing the chair back with a scrape that sounded too loud.
"For now," he said, "there are loose ends I need to tie up. Messes I made."
