The accusation hit me like a slap.
She was right.
I'd been so consumed by my anger, my sense of betrayal, that I hadn't thought about Casey. Casey, who thought I was Uncle Easton. Casey, who didn't know.
"Does she know?" My voice was hoarse. "Does Casey know I'm her father?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Sadie wiped at her tears, voice barely a whisper. "Because I didn't know how to explain it. Because every time I tried to find the words, I couldn't."
"I'm not leaving."
"You don't know that."
"Yes." I stepped back, needing space before I said something I couldn't take back. "I do. I want a paternity test."
Sadie flinched like I'd hit her. "You don't believe me?"
"I believe you." The words came out flat. "But I need it in writing. For custody.”
"Custody?" Fear flashed across her face. "You're going to take her from me?"
"I don't know what I'm going to do, Sadie." I headed for the door, my chest so tight I could barely breathe. "But I need time to think. And I can't do that here."
"Easton—"
"Send me her medical records. Birth certificate. Whatever you have." My hand was on the doorknob.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know." I looked back at her one last time, taking in her tear-stained face, the devastation in her eyes. "But I need time to figure it out. And I can't do that here."
"I'm sorry." Her voice broke completely. "I'm so sorry."
I didn't answer. I walked out and closed the door behind me; the sound of it clicking shut somehow seemed final.
A window on the first floor was partially open, and as I stood on the porch, Casey's voice carried clearly through it.
"Mom?"
I froze on the front step.
"Is Uncle Easton mad at me?"
Something in my chest constricted at Casey's innocent question.
Sadie's response was muffled, but I heard the tears in it. "No, baby, he's not mad at you."
"Then why was he yelling?"
"He was mad at Mommy. Grown-up stuff."
"What did you do?"
A pause. "I made a mistake. A long time ago. And Uncle Easton just found out about it."
