Gideon took a tentative step toward the boy, but the child recoiled in sheer terror.
“Please, don’t let him take me,” the boy whispered.
Gideon’s voice broke into a jagged sob.
“I am your father, son, I promise you that.”
The boy shook his head vigorously, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the man he had been taught to fear.
“My dad is dead, my mommy told me he was an angel in the sky.”
Gideon felt like those innocent words were burying him alive.
Martha stood up slowly, her eyes filled with a lifetime of exhaustion and hatred.
“Your mother did not just take Isabelle from us, Gideon; she stole your own flesh and blood from you, and you, with all your medals and prestige, never once bothered to look for the truth.”
Gideon lowered his gaze, realizing that his uniform, once his pride, now weighed on him like a shroud of lead.
Then Hannah, gasping for air between her heavy sobs, dropped a truth that turned the blood in everyone’s veins into ice.
“Major, there is something else you need to know, because Oliver was not the only baby.”
Gideon snapped his head up, his eyes widening in alarm.
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
Martha closed her eyes tightly, as if the memory of that day was a physical wound reopening.
“Isabelle was carrying twins, Gideon.”
The silence that followed was heavy and final, like a judge reading a death sentence.
“Where is the other child?” Gideon demanded, his voice cracking.