paper before him. At the Midwest Reproductive Center donor profile. At the number he had chosen here nineteen years earlier.
#4127.
His expression stayed fixed.
Yet his hands began trembling.
“Dad,” Luke said. His voice was very small. “Is it true?”
Mike paused before answering.
He took the chair opposite his son. He folded his large, work-scarred hands on the tabletop.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s true.”
Luke’s face crumpled.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.
Part Twelve: What Mike Said
Mike stared at his hands.
“Because I was ashamed,”
