"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along."

-Eleanor Roosevelt

I feel like I'm one of those crazy people you see on the street where they have hit the breaking point and are no longer able to hide it, now showing the entire world their shit is in fact not together. I have been trying to muster up the courage to ask Sean about the situation with Christopher all night but I'm failing miserably. So far I had cornered him twice this evening but faked having to pee at the last minute just to avoid the awkward conversation. Twice in an hour is looking a bit suspicious in my opinion.

I now stand in the hallway outside the office trying to control my breathing in an attempt to not hyperventilate and pass out due to nerves and anxiety. I know why this is so hard but what I don't understand is why it has to be that way and why now of all times am I psyching myself out when I've never done it before with anything.

Shockingly, I was listening when Arkies was talking the other night. If I want to work towards closure, towards moving forward and out of this nightmare, I need more information. Sean holds most of the answers I seek. Christopher held the majority but I'm not ready to talk to him about anything.

Snapping me from my inward turmoil, Sean's voice drifts out into the hallway, carrying a slightly sing-song tone ."Kindra, I know you're hovering. Come ask me whatever it is you have been trying to ask all night."

With one final deep breath, I step around the corner and into the dimly lit room. At any other moment in my life, I would have thought that the warm glow cast by the corner floor lamp and the bright white of the computer screen is comforting, but at this moment they seem very foreboding.

I'm sure I've caught him off guard as the words slip out of my mouth, something I had not expected to happen given my state of mind. The wide eye expression gave it away, that and his jaw slightly clenching. "I know about Christopher's affair."

The silence is thick between us as I stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of my Golden State t-shirt. I can only imagine the thoughts that are racing through his mind, his daughter standing there announcing that she knew about his lover's double life. As the seconds tick by I slowly regret saying anything and begin to inch my way towards the door.

"Shut the door and sit down sweetheart," Sean says quietly with a sigh, standing and re-seating himself on the leather sofa opposite the desk.

My heart pounding wildly in my chest I shut the door, trying to go as slow as I can. I'm rethinking the conversation I'm about to have but realize in my heart that if I back out now it will only continue to eat away at me. Taking a seat next to my father I lace my fingers together, studying them and avoiding eye contact with Sean.

"I assume you just found out?" Sean asks, casting a sidelong stare at me.

I nod, not trusting the lump in my throat that has slowly been forming. There were so many questions I had for him, like how long has he known, has he confronted Christopher, why did he hide it from me.

Sean must have seen that I had questions racing in my mind because he sighed heavily and continued to speak, allowing me to stay quiet and listen.

"I always knew that there was something missing for Chris. He never seemed unhappy or distant, but knowing that our relationship was based on a college experiment phase made me skeptical at times."

A smile came across Sean's lips, though it was sad and small. "When did you find out?"

His focus was now on me and like a deer caught in headlights, I just stared straight ahead at the watercolor painting of the Eiffel Tower. "A couple of weeks." My voice doesn't sound like mine. Instead of cheerful and upbeat it's distant, hallow and teetering on the edge of broken. It scares me, then again everything I feel lately scares me. It's all foreign and new.

Sean nods slowly, lacing his own fingers together. "I'm sorry you had to find out some way other than myself."

I nod, not sure if it would've been better to hear it from Sean or not. At the very least it was family that crushed my world which meant that no matter how much I hate Liam, I couldn't be angry with him for the rest of our lives, maybe just a fraction. "Liam told me. Better than a complete stranger I guess..."

My father hums and nods again. "I figured as much." He muses, giving away that he already knew Liam had found out about the family secret and had either made him keep it or worse didn't think much of it. "I hope he did it nicely."

I half-chuckle as the memory of our argument rises from my memory and the not so graceful way I extracted this information from my brother. "We were fighting when it came up," I admit sheepishly.

Sean's laugh echos within the study and makes a small smile appear on my lips. I'm sure the fact that Liam and I were fighting isn't a surprise, and the fact that this came up is probably icing on the cake. "Sorry, it's not a funny situation." He says clearing his throat as a semi-serious expression slips back onto his face. "You must have questions."

I let out a long sigh as I let myself sink back into the couch. With the spotlight now on me my mind is a puddle, all my questions are mixed together in a pool of thought and I'm now unable to sort through them. "I do..." I trail off, trying to buy a little time to think.

My father shifts on the couch and slides his phone out of his pocket. "I hope that you can keep things in perspective Kindra. This situation isn't ideal, I know, but I need you to know that both Christopher and I are happy."

My heart thuds rapidly in my chest as I watch Sean concentrate on his phone, tapping and swiping away before abruptly handing the device to me. On the brightly lit screen a Facebook page has been pulled up, but not just any ones. There on his phone screen staring me down is Christopher and my biological mother Harbor.

Tears well up in my eyes as I stare at the photograph. Not because of the woman is being held by my father but because my eyes are locked with familiar hazel ones that belong to a beautiful chestnut haired little girl who looks just like me.