While gazing at the stars on a beautiful winter night, I received a phone call. It was mother. Whimpering, she said "will you please come to the living room." My mind racing of a million thoughts, "what did I do?" "I hope I 'm not in trouble." As I open up the front door, I see my family surrounding a chair. I slowly walk down the aisle and immediately get told to take a seat. Mother weeping in the back, my father approaches me. Expecting an outburst of profanity, my father says with a soft voice “Shiv, I am not your biological father. I am your step-father.”

Immigrating to Canada at the age of 20, my Mother had it rough from the start. She had no knowledge of the English language, nor did she have any friends. She was arranged to be married