“It’s all legitimate,”
he said.
“I drafted that adoption agreement myself 32 years ago. Victor signed it in my office.”
“So, he knew from the very beginning. He knew before the wedding.”
Walter’s voice was bitter.
“Your mother was upfront about her pregnancy. She offered to release him from the engagement, but Victor saw an opportunity. Her family’s land was worth millions. He agreed to adopt you in exchange for the property rights, and the condition that he would raise you as his own.”
Walter shook his head.
“But I watched over the years. I saw how he treated you at family events, how your mother would call me crying, asking if there was any legal recourse. She was trapped. We both were.”
I let that sink in.
“Would you be willing to confirm this if it ever came to that?”
Walter met my eyes.
“I’m 72 years old, Miss Prescott. I’m not afraid of Victor anymore. I should have spoken up decades ago.”
He reached across the desk and squeezed my hand.
“Your mother would be so proud of you.”
The week before Father’s Day, Daniel came over to help me prepare—not prepare for revenge. I want to be clear about that. I wasn’t planning some elaborate takedown. I wasn’t trying to destroy Victor’s business or steal his money or ruin his family. I just wanted to stop lying.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Daniel asked, spreading documents across my kitchen table.
I looked at the evidence—the DNA results, a copy of the adoption certificate, and a letter I’d written myself. Short, direct, no accusations, just facts.
Dad, I’m not your biological daughter. You’ve known this since before I was born. Mom’s letter explains everything and the DNA test confirms it. Thank you for providing a roof over my head for 18 years. But I don’t owe you gratitude for treating me like a burden I never asked to be. I’m not looking for your money or your inheritance. I release any claim to the Prescott estate. I just wanted you to know that I know and that I’m done pretending. Sabrina
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