I Just Did a DNA Test for Fun—But Accidentally Found Out a Brother Claims We Grew Up Together

“My dad said you’re the affair child. I just found out about you this week.”
That’s when Daniel went silent. His expression shifted—confusion turning to something darker.

“Wait… you think I’m the affair child?” he said slowly.

Then he looked me dead in the eyes.

“So you don’t remember that day?”

I shook my head. “What day?”

Daniel looked away, rubbed the back of his neck. “There was a day. Everything changed. You were just gone. One minute we were brothers, next minute, your room was empty.”

“You’re saying we… we lived together? Like, in the same house?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You were four, I was five. We shared a room. We even shared bath time, man.” He let out a half-laugh. “Your mom… or the woman I thought was your mom… she used to read us stories every night. Then one day, she left with you. Said it was a ‘visit.’ But you never came back.”

I didn’t know what to say.

My dad had told me Daniel was the mistake. The secret. The hidden child.

But Daniel remembered me. Not vaguely—like, really remembered me. Favorite toys. My old nightlight. That I used to sleep with one sock on, one sock off.

I drove home in a daze.

My mom was in the kitchen making tea. I stood in the doorway and asked, “Mom… did I ever live near a lake?”

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