Chapter 1

Single and past the age everyone thinks a woman should be married, I went to the records office to update my household file and discovered I had a son.

A little quiet digging told me who did it. My cousin.

She'd had her own son pose as mine so she could use my address in the district and get him into the best elementary school in town. And it worked. He got in.

When I confronted her about it.

She just shrugged and said, "Letitia Fox, it's not like you're ever getting married anyway. That school slot was just sitting there doing nothing."

But later.

She was on her knees, crying, begging me to forgive her.

1.

When the clerk handed my household records back to me.

I froze.

There was an extra page.

Name: Justin Smith. Male. Six years old.

Relationship to head of household: mother and son.

I didn't even have a boyfriend, and somehow I had a son.

The clerk noticed my face and asked what was wrong.

"There's been a mistake. I've never been married. Where would I get a son?"

"So you're saying this is our fault?" The clerk's face turned mocking. She pulled out a file and tossed it across to me. "See for yourself."

I took it, confused.

Then my eyes landed on the page, and everything in me went still.

It was the paperwork for registering the boy.

A medical birth certificate. Photocopies of my ID and my household records.

And a birth-out-of-wedlock statement, with my signature and my thumbprint on it.

"Once a child is born, you're responsible for that child. Anything less is one more thing you did wrong."

The clerk's face was stern, her tone all lecture.

Heat rushed into my face.

"No! None of this happened! I don't know anything about this. Who did this? I want it investigated!"

Now it was the clerk's turn to look shocked.

"What, you didn't submit these documents yourself?"

"Absolutely not, I swear. I don't know anything about it."

The clerk's expression sobered.

"It's been too long. The security footage from back then is already gone. If someone really tampered with this, you can go to the police."

The police?

Right. I should go to the police.

But there was no rush.

Better to get the whole picture first.

Back home, I posted a message in the family group chat.

"Does anyone know the name Justin Smith?"

A reply came fast.

It was my cousin, Miriam Estes.

"Oh, sweetie, Justin's our son."