It felt impossible, like someone had just told me the sky was brown.
The woman took another step closer. “He stole you from me.”
Dad seemed to snap out of it then.
He shook his head. “That’s not true, Liza, and you know it. At least not all of it.”
“What?” I said.
Then the whispers grew louder. Parents leaned toward each other. Teachers exchanged confused looks.
“He stole you from me.”
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I wrapped my fingers around Dad’s wrist. “Dad, what is she talking about? Who is she?”
He looked down at me. His lips parted, but before he could speak, the woman cut in.
“I’m your mother, and this man has lied to you your entire life!”
My brain felt like it was trying to run in ten directions at once. My mother was there at my graduation, and everyone was watching us.
She grabbed my hand. “You belong with me.”
“Dad, what is she talking about? Who is she?”
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Instinctively, I pulled back.
Dad put his arm out in front of me, creating a barrier between my mother and me.
“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Dad said.
“You don’t get to decide that,” she snapped.
“Will someone tell me what’s going on? Dad, please!”
He looked at me then and hung his head. “I never stole you from her, but she is right about one thing. I’m not your biological father.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
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