Father

*Joseph*

I got a text from Jay telling me that the shopping was going well but he could tell Sandra was worried. I sat there in my office chair as different information about my so-called sister kept popping up from each of the trusted men sitting in front of me. I never thought of myself as someone with family, not until Sandra made me realize I was surrounded by it. The Brotherhood was made for people like me. Lost, alone, unwanted. People who needed a home, and a purpose. On the outside, people see organizations like ours as criminal indicates looking to cause trouble. This isn't the case. We are just a group of people who had no one, nothing, and no place to belong. People who needed healing from the trauma and mistakes of the paths they had dealt to them in life. I took my hills and made mountains out of them. I just did it in a way that was different from the rest of the world. Therapy didn't suit me, I guess. “She looks legit, Smoke. I think she might even be related to you.” Zeus spoke up, bring me back into the room. “How?” I said, feeling the pressure building in my brain. He looked down at his phone, swiping a few times before looking back up to me. “I think that man in the photo was your father.” I slammed my hand down on the desk, remembering the trail of men my addicted mother paraded around me as a child. None of them looked like this man. I would have noticed the resemblance. Zeus turned his phone to me, and there the photo was the man from the picture that Rachele had given us, but beside him a small woman with a belly. My mother. I couldn’t speak or think. The room was spinning, and I was heading into a tunnel of confusion. Why wouldn’t my mother have told me about this man. I thought my father was gone, dead, that's what she told me. He was dead before I was born. That was her whole reason for addiction. Her one true love died and left her to raise me on her own. It was more than she could bare.  

I sat back in my chair, the weight of the revelation pressing down on me more heavily than I cared to admit. The Brotherhood had always been my sanctuary, a shield against the chaos of my past, but now the edges of that shield felt jagged, pierced by questions I wasn’t ready to face. “If this man is my father,” I said slowly, the words tasting foreign on my tongue, “then why would my mother spend a lifetime erasing him from my story?” Zeus exchanged a glance with Henry, both of them careful not to push me too far. “Maybe she thought she was protecting you, or maybe the truth was harder for her to accept than the lie.” Zeus’s words landed like a stone in my chest, and I rubbed a hand across my face, trying to make sense of the storm building in my mind. The photo still sat on the desk, an unspoken challenge I wasn’t ready to confront, and yet it demanded answers. “I need everything you can find about this man—his name, where he’s been, and who he was to her,” I said finally, my voice sharp but steady. “But keep this between us for now. Sandra doesn’t need to be distracted by this.” My mind wandered to her, imagining her navigating the chaos of wedding preparations, her delicate balance of joy and anxiety tethering her closer to me every day. For her sake, I had to stay grounded, no matter how deeply this revelation threatened to uproot me. As Zeus and Henry left the office to begin their search, I turned my chair toward the window, letting the cool evening air brush against my face in the hopes it might clear the fog in my head. Somewhere out there was a truth I hadn’t asked for, but I knew that once unearthed, it could change everything. 

I reached for the phone so I could reach out to Sandra and see how her evening shopping was going. I knew I needed to hear her voice. She was my peace, and I could use some of that.  As the phone rang, i leaned back in my chair, my mind still racing with the implications of the photograph and the truths it might reveal. When Sandra’s voice finally filled the line, soft and reassuring, it was like a balm to my frayed nerves. I listened intently as she recounted her evening, her laughter weaving warmth into the conversation, a stark contrast to the turbulent thoughts swirling in my head. Her excitement about the wedding details momentarily pulled me out of my spiral, grounding me with reminders of the life we would build together. As JI responded, my tone softened, the weight of my unresolved past momentarily giving way to the simple joys of connection. I found myself sharing small details about my day, careful not to burden Sandra with the storm brewing inside me, yet grateful for the sense of stability her presence offered. When the call ended, I placed the phone down, my resolve solidifying. Whatever truths lay hidden in the shadows of my past, I would face them—but not at the cost of the future Sandra and I were creating. My hand lingered over the photograph one last time before I slid it into a drawer, locking it away with the promise that answers would come in time. 

Part of me knew Sandra would have questions as soon as she got home from her day. The buzz from the shopping and planning would be gone once we were lying up in that bed together. I couldn’t lie to her, but I hated to bring out more problems before I get to say I do. She has struggled through so much in her short life and with me I want her to feel safe and happy. If I lie to her, she will lost trust in me, but If I tell her I know she will want answers too. She cares so much for my wellbeing, in a way I have never experienced. I sat there for a while with no news. Jay messaged to let me know the ladies were finishing up at the caterer and then would be heading back to the house. I couldn’t wait to see the flush on Sandra’s face as she excitedly tells me all about her choices. I am sure Sophia will be glad to return to Hector; I don't think she spends much time away from him. I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes, trying to remember the night my mother told me my father had died. She was drunk and sat down beside me at the kitchen table. I was attempting to finish homework, and she took it away from me. She was crying and she grabbed my hands. “When your father left us, you were too small to know. Just a bitty baby in my arms. He died and I was left alone. I am sorry son; I am not the mother you deserve. I was devastated and I turned to this.” She slammed the whiskey bottle on the table spilling drops on my homework, “I know you probably hate me, but I hope you never know the pain of losing the one you love.” My young heart hurt for my mother at that time. I was young and hadnt grown to resent her yet. As I got older, she got worse, and I got more distant. When she was dying, she came to me, and I took care of her the best I could. She loved the gardens, as Sandra does. I loved my mother. Why would she have never told me the truth, not even when I wiped her chin as she laid dying in the country house? Why would she take this to her grave?  

As the night stretched on, the weight of uncertainty tugged at me, yet it also stirred a determination I couldn’t ignore. I knew this crossroads demanded action, not avoidance, and every unanswered question about my past seemed to whisper a challenge I wasn’t prepared to back down from. I thought of Sandra, her unwavering loyalty and the fierce strength she brought to my life, a reminder of the future I was fighting to protect. While Zeus and Henry dug deeper into the threads of my history, I resolved to confront whatever truths emerged with clarity—not just for myself, but for the family I had chosen and the woman who had become my anchor. Somewhere in the silence of the city house, I could feel the pulse of everything I had built—fragile, powerful, and worth every battle. The Brotherhood had taught me how to face storms, but Sandra had taught me how to weather them with grace, and together, I knew we could withstand even those truths that sought to unravel the world we’d worked so hard to create.