The silence stretched, uncomfortable and charged, before my father finally cleared his throat.
"Maria... I know this is hard to hear," he began softly, his voice cracking slightly. "But there's so much you don't know. Things we had to keep from you, things we didn't want you to be part of."
I held my breath. Every instinct screamed for me to walk away, to shut out whatever he was about to say, but I couldn't. I needed answers.
"It was years ago," my father continued, his gaze fixed on the floor, "when your half-sister... well, she came home one evening with a man by her side. A young man. His name was Bruno."
The name made me flinch, my skin prickling with unease. Bruno. The man who had haunted every step of my life since I'd been sold into this twisted family.
My mother shook her head slowly, her hands twisting together in her lap.
