Caroline set the papers down on the table, lining up the edges with her thumb.

“It is true,” Caroline said.

She looked up at him, her dark eyes reflecting the yellow light of the floor lamp.

“Your spelling was terrible back then, by the way,” she added, her voice devoid of emotion.

Thomas stared at her, his face flushing a deep, angry red.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” he said.

“I am smart,” Caroline said. “And I can hold a pencil just fine.”

Rebecca let out a small, choked sob and covered her mouth with her hand.

Thomas turned his glare from Caroline to Rebecca.

“You brought these here to poison my daughter against me,” he spat.

“She didn’t need these papers to know who you are, Thomas,” I said, standing beside Caroline’s chair.

“I am her father,” he said, his voice rising, filling the small living room.

He took a step closer to the table, his shadow falling over Caroline.

“A few old emails don’t change the law,” he said.

He pointed a finger at the papers on the table.