Van paused for a moment, the weight of the question hanging heavily in the air. The room fell eerily silent, the tension palpable as all eyes turned towards her. Her expression shifted, a mixture of sadness and resolve crossing her face as she prepared to answer.
“My own,” Van replied, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “This child is mine, and I will raise them with love and dignity, something I didn’t have in my marriage.”
The shockwaves from her statement rippled through the room, a murmur growing among the guests as they processed the revelation. My heart pounded in my chest. I had never known Van to be deceitful, and her words cut deeper than I could have ever anticipated. Suddenly, the foundation of my understanding of our past crumbled.
