I demanded answers, and he opened a small blue box filled with my father’s old letters. They revealed a hidden relationship with a woman named Elena…and a son. A son named Adrian Keller. My supposed half-brother.
His story was desperate—job loss, nowhere to go, no one believing him—so he turned to the only place connected to the father we never truly shared. None of it excused what he’d done, but as we talked, the fear slowly shifted into something unexpected. Not an intruder after all—but a brother. One who had been alone for far too long, just like me
