When I turned 65, I threw a party for the family, but no one came. That same day, my daughter-in-law posted photos of everyone on a cruise. I just smiled. When they came back, I handed her a DNA test that made her go pale… My son doesn’t deserve that shrew…

Did you look for her? Of course I did. For months, filed a missing person report, hired a private investigator, posted on every social media platform I could think of, nothing. It was like she’d vanished into thin air.

He rubbed his face with both hands. The investigator finally told me to give up, said some people just don’t want to be found. I was starting to feel sick.

What does this have to do with Tommy? Three months ago, I was at a conference in Sacramento, just walking around downtown during lunch, and I saw them, Meadow and a little boy who looked exactly like me at that age. Same eyes, same chin, even the same way of tilting his head when he’s concentrating. I followed them for three blocks, Mrs. Patterson.

I watched that little boy and I knew, I knew he was mine. The room felt like it was spinning. You’re saying Tommy is your son? I’m saying I think he is.

Meadow was about two months pregnant when she left me. If she carried the baby to term, he’d be exactly Tommy’s age now. David reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.

Look at this. He showed me a photo of himself as a child, maybe six or seven years old. The resemblance to Tommy was unmistakable.

The same dark eyes, the same stubborn set to the jaw, even the same slight gap between his front teeth that Tommy was always trying to hide when he smiled. My hands were shaking now. This could be a coincidence.

Lots of children look alike. That’s what I told myself at first. But then I started digging.

David’s voice got harder, more determined. I hired another investigator, a better one this time. Meadow Martinez.

That’s not even her real name, by the way. Her real name is Margaret Winters, and she’s done this before. Done what before? Disappeared when things got complicated.

Left men when they started asking too many questions. The investigator found two other guys, Mrs. Patterson, two other men who had relationships with her that ended the same way, suddenly, completely, like she’d never existed. David leaned forward, his eyes intense.

One of them thinks she might have been pregnant when she left him too. I felt like I was drowning. Why are you telling me this? Why now? Because I’ve been watching from a distance for three months, trying to figure out what to do, trying to decide if I had the right to disrupt a child’s life based on suspicions and coincidences.

His voice cracked. But then I saw the photos from your cruise, the happy family vacation, everyone smiling and laughing. And I realized something that made me sick.

What? You weren’t in any of the photos. I looked through all of Meadow’s social media, Mrs. Patterson. Hundreds of pictures of family gatherings, birthday parties, holidays.

Tommy and Emma are in all of them. Your son, Elliot, is in most of them. But you? You’re barely there, like you’re being written out of your own family’s story.

The truth of it hit me like a physical blow. I thought about all those missed events, all those last minute changes and convenient miscommunications. All those times I’d felt like an outsider looking in at my own family.

I started thinking about my own experience with Meadow, David continued, how she isolated me from my friends and family near the end, how she made me feel like I was the problem, like I was too demanding, too clingy, how she convinced me that the people who cared about me didn’t really understand our relationship. She’s doing the same thing to Elliot, I whispered. I think so.

And I think she’s doing it to you too. Which means, if Tommy really is my son, he’s not the only victim here. You are too.

David reached into his coat again and pulled out a manila envelope. This is why I’m here, Mrs. Patterson. Why I finally worked up the courage to knock on your door.

What is it? DNA test results. I managed to get a sample of Tommy’s hair from the barber shop where Meadow takes him. Had it tested against my own DNA.

His hands were shaking as he handed me the envelope. I got the results yesterday. I stared at the envelope, afraid to touch it.

Inside was information that could destroy my family or save it. And I had no way of knowing which. Before you open that, David said quietly, I need you to know something else.

I don’t want to take Tommy away from the only father he’s ever known. I don’t want to traumatize him or disrupt his life. But I can’t stand by and watch Meadow manipulate and lie to the people who love him, including you.

What are you asking me to do? I’m asking you to help me make sure he’s protected. From her. From whatever game she’s been playing with all of us.

David’s voice was steady now, resolved. Because if she’s lied about this, Mrs. Patterson, what else has she lied about? And who else is she going to hurt? I looked at the envelope in my hands, feeling the weight of whatever truth was inside. Outside, a car door slammed, and I heard children laughing as they walked past my house.

Normal sounds of a normal afternoon in a normal neighborhood where mothers didn’t steal children and grandmothers didn’t get erased from family photos. But my life hadn’t been normal for a long time. I just hadn’t wanted to admit it.

Mrs. Patterson? David’s voice was gentle now, almost kind. Are you ready to know the truth? I thought about Tommy’s sweet face, about the way he used to run to me with his arms outstretched before Meadow started discouraging those displays of affection. I thought about Emma, who barely knew me anymore because I’d been excluded from so much of her life…