I thought my business trip to Los Angeles would be just another ordinary workday, but a strange request mid-flight changed everything. As an architect heading to pitch a major project to investors—something that could lead to a promotion—I was filled with excitement and pride, especially knowing my mom, Melissa, had always supported me as a single parent.

But everything shifted when a flight attendant noticed a birthmark on my wrist and suddenly asked for my passport. Minutes later, she informed me the pilot wanted to speak to me after landing. Confused and anxious, I stayed behind while others exited. That’s when I met him—Steve, a man I recognized from my mother’s old photos. He revealed he was my father, the one Mom had always said died before I was born. He even showed me a matching birthmark. I was stunned. My whole life had been built on a lie.