“What?”
She looked directly at him.
“You had a cousin with the same first and last name.”
Michael frowned.
“I don’t remember any cousin named Michael.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Her voice became quieter.
“He lived with us for several years before you were old enough to remember clearly.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“His mother had serious financial problems. We helped raise him.”
Michael leaned forward.
“So what does that have to do with my medical records?”
His mother closed her eyes.
“The clinic sent both sets of paperwork to our address.”
Michael went completely still.
“And you mixed them up?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
That answer was worse.
Michael stared at her.
“What do you mean, no?”
She looked ashamed.
“Your father opened both envelopes.”
The room became silent.
“He saw the diagnosis in your cousin’s file,” she continued. “And for some reason, he convinced himself it was yours.”
Michael laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you correct him?”
His mother’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because by the time I realized what had happened, you already believed it.”
Michael stared at her.
“For years?”
She nodded.
“You were young. You weren’t planning to have children. Your father said there was no reason to upset you again.”
