A single email changed everything. I remember staring at the DNA test results, heart pounding. I’d taken it for fun, curious about my ancestry. Instead, I found out I had a brother—Daniel I was raised as an only child by loving parents who gave me everything. My life felt perfect—until that moment. Shaken, I asked my dad if he knew a Daniel. His face turned pale. “Years ago, I had an affair,” he confessed. “Daniel is from that.” But something about his reaction felt off. I couldn’t shake the feeling there was more,

I messaged Daniel. He replied instantly and asked to meet. When we did, I was stunned—he looked just like me. You don’t remember the fire?” he asked, eyes welling up. “We lived together until we were five. Our parents died,

in that fire. You saved me. We were separated after—adopted by different families.” It couldn’t be true. But when I searched my dad’s office, I found hidden documents—evidence of a lawsuit about the fire. Turns out, my adoptive parents had owned the building. Their negligence had caused the fire. They,

didn’t adopt me out of love—they did it to avoid being sued. I confronted them. “You took me in because you felt guilty?” I asked. Dad couldn’t deny it. I packed a bag and left. Daniel welcomed me with open arms. “They stole you from me,” he said. I didn’t know what my future held, but for the first time in my life, I knew who I really was—and I wasn’talone anymore,