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I always believed I was an only child, loved and spoiled by my parents, living what felt like the perfect life. That illusion shattered on my 18th birthday, when a simple ancestry DNA test revealed something impossible—a full-blooded brother named Daniel. At first, I was sure it was a mistake, but the company confirmed the results were accurate.
Confused, I confronted my dad, who panicked and begged me not to tell Mom. He claimed Daniel was the result of an old affair, but his reaction felt too desperate, like he was hiding something even bigger.
Unable to shake the feeling, I contacted Daniel. When we met, he looked just like me—and spoke as if we’d grown up together. He told me about a fire from our childhood, a home we shared, a dog named Scruffy, and how we were separated afterward. According to him, I was adopted and never told. I didn’t want to believe him, but his memories felt disturbingly real… and my own life suddenly didn’t.
