“I’m glad you started remembering everything. I’m sure the other gaps will fill in too. I should have crossed you out of my life, but that night I saw you—scared and helpless—when some stranger called me and told me he’d found my business card in your pocket, and I understood: I had to sort everything out. — Maxim holds out to me a sheet of paper folded into quarters. — These are the results of a genetic test. Dina isn’t my daughter.”
I snatch the document from his hands. The lines jump and blur before my eyes. “Is this some kind of prank?”
“This can’t be,” I shake my head. “It’s a mistake. I had no one besides you. Dina is your daughter!”