Page 22

It was nearly dusk when Davey found Olivia sitting on the porch of the lodge, her eyes following the slow sway of the trees in the breeze.

The warmth of the day had faded, leaving behind a hush that fell over the sanctuary like a blanket.

In her lap was a folder of donor correspondence, but she wasn’t reading. She was still.

“Hey,” Davey said softly, stepping onto the porch.

She turned toward him with a tired smile. “Hey, yourself. Done wrangling squirrels?”

“They finally stopped trying to escape,” he said, dragging a chair closer. “I think they’re starting to trust me.”

Olivia chuckled. “That’s the hardest part.”

There was a beat of silence. Davey cleared his throat. “Can I ask you something?”

Olivia’s eyes flicked to his, carefully guarded.

“Of course.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot. About where I came from. About why you never talk about him.”

He didn’t need to say the name. He’d never had one to say.

“I used to think you didn’t tell me because it was too painful,” he continued. “But lately, it feels more like you’ve been protecting something.”

She turned back to the trees. The light was dimming, dipping into twilight. Her voice, when it came, was steady. “I have been.”

Davey didn’t speak. He waited a beat then held out a photograph.

She looked at it slowly. Then at him.

"Who’s the man?” he asked, voice taut. “The one next to you. The one holding me.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came.

“I found the letter, too. The one signed ‘C.’” He stepped closer. “Tell me the truth, or I swear to God, I’m gone. Tonight.”

Olivia went still. The photograph trembled in her hand, as if it too was afraid of what it might reveal.

“That’s Clark,” she said finally. Her voice was barely a whisper. “He worked here. Years ago.”

“My father?” Davey demanded, though a part of him already knew the answer.

She closed her eyes. “No. Not your father.”

He blinked. “But he lived with us. He’s in every picture of the sanctuary, maybe only the background but he was here from when I was little.”

“Yes, he was here and yes, he did live with us when you were a baby” she said.

“I loved him with all my heart. But he came after. You were already two months old when he arrived. I thought... I hoped he’d want to be a father to you.

I needed someone, and you adored him. For a while, I let myself believe it could be real. ”

Davey’s fists clenched. “Then why did he leave?”

Olivia looked down at her hands. “Because loving a child that wasn’t his was too much. And he wasn’t strong enough to stay. ”

Davey stepped back. “So he left us.”

“He left me,” Olivia said. “It almost killed me, losing him but I lived on for you. And I swore I’d never give my heart to another man again. You became my everything.”

The silence between them pulsed like a bruise.

Davey’s voice dropped. “I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe that’s the whole truth,” he snapped. “You’ve kept this locked down for too long. And I want to know, now. Or I’ll pack my bag and you’ll never see me again.”

Olivia stood slowly. Her eyes were glossy, her breath shaky.

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t go.”

“Then tell me.”

There was no escaping it now. No gentle detour. Just the open road of what had always been unsaid. Her hands shook as she reached for the railing, steadying herself.

“Your father is Mason.” The air around them shattered and Olivia held her breath.

Davey’s face crumpled in disbelief. “What?”

“Mason Bennett,” Olivia said. “Is your father.”

He staggered back like he’d been struck. “No. That’s… no. I’ve worked with him. We’ve spent hours together. He never said…”

“He doesn’t know.” The words barely made it past her lips.

Davey’s eyes were wild. “What do you mean he doesn’t know?”

“It was one night,” Olivia said, the tears finally falling.

“One terrible, messy night after a rescue went wrong. Mason had lost a child. A daughter. And the woman he loved had left him. He was broken. We were friends. Close. That night, I cooked him dinner. We drank too much. We talked about pain and endings, and we... we made a mistake.”

Davey stood stone-still .

“The next morning, we were ashamed,” Olivia continued.

“We both knew it wasn’t love. Just loneliness.

Just grief. He was always in trouble. Started drinking.

Sleeping around. And he left town soon after.

By the time I knew I was pregnant, he was already gone.

I had no idea how to contact him and never thought I’d see him again.

Then I met Clark, but he left, too. Then, out of the blue when you were five, Mason came back and I’d grown so used to it being just the two of us, I. .. I decided not to tell him.”

“Why?” Davey’s voice was hoarse, raw. “Why wouldn’t you tell him?”

“Because I was afraid,” she said. “Afraid he’d ruin it. Afraid he’d resent you. Afraid he’d come back and then leave again and break your heart worse than never knowing him at all.”

“So, you made that decision for both of us,” he said, his voice shaking. “You decided I didn’t get to know my father.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” she whispered. “I thought if I could just give you a stable life, a happy one, that it wouldn’t matter.”

“But it does matter,” he said. “It matters more than anything.”

Olivia reached for him, but he pulled away.

“I trusted you,” he said. “I believed you had your reasons. But this? This was my life. My family. My right to know.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“And now what?” he said. “What do you expect me to do? Pretend it doesn’t matter? Pretend Mason being my father doesn’t change everything?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve lived with this secret for so long I stopped imagining what it would be like if it came out.”

He stared at her. “Does he still not know?”

“No,” she said. “Not yet.”

“Unbelievable,” Davey muttered. “You’ve lied to us both. ”

“I was going to tell him.” She said, pleading. “I was building up to it. I didn’t know how to begin then it was too late.”

Davey’s voice cracked. “You don’t begin, Mom. You just speak. You just say it.”

“I was scared.”

“You should have been brave.”

She reached out one more time. “Please, Davey. Just wait. Let me tell Mason and Natalie myself. Let me explain in my own way.”

But he shook his head. Stepped back.

“I don’t owe you that,” he said. “Not anymore.”

“Davey…”

He turned, almost running down the porch steps, boots crunching on gravel. The sun had disappeared entirely now, leaving the sky deep purple and bruised with dusk.

“I hate you,” he said without looking back. “I don’t care why you did it. You still did.”

And then he was gone.

Olivia sank onto the porch rail, the photograph still clutched in her hand. In the distance, a hawk called once, then fell silent. And Olivia wept. Not just for the son she might lose, but for the man who didn’t know he’d had a son at all.