Karl's POV
The document lies across my knees, corners worn from where I've been clutching it. My eyes refuse to leave the official lettering, as though looking away might make it disappear and return me to those hollow years when I ached for Sally without knowing our child walked this earth.
Warren Thomson. My boy. Bearing my surname.
My finger follows the line where my name appears beneath his, and breathing becomes difficult. The DNA results confirmed what I already knew, and my instincts recognized him from our first meeting when I saw my own features reflected in his face. Yet having it documented here transforms everything into undeniable reality.
Sally rests against her seat beside me, that tender expression crossing her features that always manages to penetrate my defenses.
"You'll tear it apart," she says with gentle amusement.
"Let it tear. This paper isn't leaving my possession."
