Julian shook his head, his engineering mind spinning out of control. “The lab report ten years ago… it said I was sterile. Congenital. It was a scientific fact, Sarah!”
“It was,” she whispered, wiping her eyes with a shaking hand. “You were. We tried for a year to get pregnant with Toby, and nothing happened. I went to the doctor alone. He told me your results. He told me we’d never have children.”
“Then who—” Julian started, his voice cracking.
“There is no ‘who,’ Julian,” Sarah interrupted. “I couldn’t lose you. I knew how much being a father meant to you. I knew you’d leave me if you knew you couldn’t have a legacy.”
She took a deep breath, looking at her sons, then back at Julian with a look of pure, unadulterated horror.
“My brother,” she whispered.
The room turned ice-cold. Julian felt the air leave his lungs.
“My brother, Marcus,” Sarah continued, her voice a ghostly monotone. “He was struggling… he needed money. We went to a private clinic. He provided the… samples. I used a home insemination kit. Twice. Three years apart. I thought… he’s your brother-in-law. The DNA would be close enough. The boys would look like the family. I did it so you could have the life you wanted.”
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