Clarence’s POV
I sat there, watching her in silence. All I could think about was how badly I’d handled this.
I should’ve told her sooner.
The guilt crept in like a chill through an open window. I had known the truth for months. I had the documents, the records, everything ready. And still, I waited.
Why
Because I let my assumptions lead. I saw her as a hot-headed, brash scholarship girl with something to prove. I didn’t look deeper. And now she was sitting here, stunned and crying, having to piece together a life she never even knew she had.
And that was on me.
She sniffled quietly and wiped the corner of her eye with her sleeve. Her movements were delicate. Like she didn’t want anyone to know she was crying, even now, in front of me.
I reached into my inner pocket and pulled out a folded handkerchief.
“Here,” I said gently, holding it out.
She hesitated, then took it with a quiet, “Thank you.”
Her voice was soft. Tired but polite.