My heart raced as I heard his question piercing through the air, "Is Uncle Andrew my father?" I couldn't bear to meet Andreas' gaze, so I averted my eyes. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed," I deflected, desperately trying to avoid the truth.
A week had passed, and grandma was finally able to come home from the hospital. The house regained its lively atmosphere, but the weight of guilt still lingered within me. Andreas never brought up the question again, and I couldn't help but feel torn. Part of me was grateful that he may have understood my pain, but another part of me felt that I had been unfair to him.
"Thank Chester for his arrangement," Grandma commanded as she slowly settled onto the sofa. "Everyone at the hospital was very kind and accommodating."
"They only treated us well because we were in the VIP room. You should thank Alyssa instead," my mom responded.
"Tell him to join us for dinner," my dad interjected.
