EIGHTY-TWO.

I fall off the side of my bed with a loud thud as my body hits the carpet.

My eyes spring open with tears already trickling down the sides of my cheeks, and I slowly pull myself up on trembling limbs, sitting on the edge of my bed.

With my head nestled between my hands, I watch as the delicate droplets of disbelief and suspicion splash across my bare toes.

It was a dream…

Just a very crazy, awful dream…

My mother didn't have a husband and child before she met my father, did she?

No, she couldn't have, that’s absurd.

My father has told us many stories about my mother being his first love, and my mum always said:

“You have always held a place in my heart from when we were younglings.”

But it's the name Cameron that sticks with me.

And Reece Cameron springs to mind.

No. It’s just a coincidence.

My mother wouldn't have a child and not raise it.

She was always about family, and it's why I was always pestering my father about disowning Rose.

It's not what my mother wou