Page 33 of The Charade

"Cool," he said. "Is your dad from the United States, too? Or did he and your mom meet in Israel?"

"Oh, um—" I looked down at my notebook, feeling my cheeks heat up. "I actually don't have a father."

"You don't?" He frowned.

"Well, I mean," I said after realizing how that had sounded. "I obviously have a biological father out there somewhere since that's how science works and all, but um, yeah, I just don't know who he is…" I let my words taper off at the end, wishing for about the thousandth time that I had at least a name or photo or something…anything to give me a clue.

But sadly, my mom was really,reallygood at keeping secrets.

"Oh, sorry." Carter swallowed, looking uncomfortable. Then after seeming like he was trying to decide whether to say something or not, he said, "I can kind of relate. I, uh, I didn't know who my dad was until I was eight."

"You didn't?" I met his gaze again, surprised that we would have something that was so rare in common.

He gave his head a slight shake, his expression somewhat cautious as he said, "All my mom ever told me when I asked about him was that my father was agringowho’d only been in Guatemala for a short time."

"Yeah?" Then, after hesitating for a moment, I asked, "Since you're here now, I'm guessing you eventually found out who he was."

"Yeah." He sighed and shifted in his seat. "Anyway, um, my dad came to work at one of the orphanages he sponsors when I was eight and after putting two and two together—Nash and I could have passed for twins when we were younger and blue eyes aren't exactly common among Guatemalans—he had a DNA test done and found out that he had a son he'd never known about."

Wait. What?

Carter had lived in an orphanage?

"W-what were you doing in an orphanage?" I asked before realizing it was probably the stupidest question for me to ask right then.

People usually only ended up in orphanages for one reason.

Which meant Carter's mom had probably died sometime before he was eight.

I was about to tell him that it was none of my business and I probably shouldn't have even asked the question in the first place when a range of emotions crossed his face and he said, "My, um—" He sighed heavily before meeting my gaze. His eyes showed a hint of pain when he looked at me. "My mom left me at a childcare one day when I was five and never came back."

My heart stuttered to a stop.

Carter hadn't been orphaned.

He'd been abandoned.

By his own mother.

And lived in an orphanage for three years before his dad had found him.

Suddenly, never knowing who my dad was sounded way easier than him being abandoned by the only parent he'd known at such a young age.

"I'm sorry to hear that. That must have been so hard," I said lamely. What else could I say?

Based on his mention of his family having an employee who cleaned all of their fancy vehicles, and knowing he'd dated a supermodel in the past, I'd assumed he had always lived in the lap of luxury. But from just those few details he'd shared with me, it sounded like the first few years of his life had been more difficult than I could have ever imagined.

Geez.

He'd lived in an orphanage in a third-world country.

My mom, sister, and I might not have had the nicest house growing up, but we'd never gone without.

"Anyway," Carter said, drawing in a deep breath. He chuckled awkwardly. "How's that for a getting-to-know-you game?"

I shook my head slowly from side to side. "Definitely a bit deeper than I thought we'd get."

That was for sure.

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