Harry grinned at his twins, Josh and Andrew, joking in the doctor’s office. At 12, they were his pride—until today.
“Mr. Campbell, let’s talk privately,” Dr. Dennison said, sending the boys out. Harry’s pulse quickened.
Josh’s anemia had prompted tests, including Harry’s blood. Andrew was fine, but something felt off.
“How’s Josh?” Harry asked, fidgeting. “We’ll treat it with supplements,” the doctor said, “but there’s more.”
Harry exhaled—good news, right? Then Dr. Dennison dropped a bomb. “Are the boys adopted?”
“No!” Harry snapped, startled. “They’re my sons.”
“Your blood doesn’t match theirs—or your wife’s,” the doctor explained. “They can’t be yours.”
“That happens, doesn’t it?” Harry pushed back. “Parents and kids don’t always match.”
“Yes, but DNA confirms they’re your half-siblings,” Dr. Dennison said, handing over proof.
Harry stared at the papers—half-siblings? His father’s kids? His head reeled.
He’d loved them 12 years. Nancy was pregnant when he met his folks—how could this be?
At home, the boys shouted, “Grandpa!” at Robert. Harry’s anger simmered, waiting.
He sent them to a friend’s, then unleashed. “Nancy, you and my dad?”
She paled. “It’s not like that,” Robert said, but Harry roared, “The DNA says it is!”
Nancy’s mind flashed to Vegas 13 years ago—music thumping, a silver-haired man flirting.
“Robert,” he’d said, buying her a drink. They ended up in his room, a blurry fling.
Pregnant weeks later, she panicked. Anna urged, “Find him!” but Vegas was a dead end.
Then Harry appeared at a bar, sweet and funny. Anna whispered, “Use him—he won’t know.”
Nancy balked, but caved. Harry proposed soon after, and she thought she’d won.
Meeting his parents, though, Robert answered the door—her Vegas stranger. She froze.
“They’re yours,” she told him quietly, begging silence. They agreed—Vegas stayed buried.
Now, Harry demanded, “When?” “Vegas,” Robert said. “Before me?” Nancy nodded.
“You trapped me!” Harry yelled. “With his kids!”
“I didn’t know,” Robert claimed, but Nancy hissed, “Liar!”
Their fight raged, and Harry saw the twins’ eyes—Robert’s eyes. A clue he’d ignored.
“They won’t know!” Nancy cried, but Josh gasped, “Grandpa’s our dad?”
The boys stood there, crushed. Andrew’s “Dad?” broke Harry, who whispered, “I’m sorry.”
