My Parents Threw Me Out For Refusing To Ab...

Here is the English translation of the second part of the story:
**Part 2: My parents threw me out for refusing to abort my baby at nineteen. For ten years, they never knew why I said we would all regret it. Then I returned with my son... and one sentence changed everything.**
My father didn't speak for a long time. He sat there with the photo trembling between his fingers, its edges bending under the pressure of his grip. My mother stood by the doorway, one hand pressed to her chest, breathing as if the room had suddenly run out of air.
Leo looked from one adult to the other.
"Mom?" he asked quietly. "Who is Ethan?"
I turned to him, and for a second, the weight of the whole world lifted. How could I explain that the man whose name had haunted me for ten years wasn't just a ghost from my past? How could I tell my son that his father was brave, smart, stubborn, and doomed?
I knelt in front of him. "Ethan was a very important person," I said. "He was kind, he cared about people, and he wanted to stop something bad from happening."
His eyes searched mine. "Was he my father?"
A complete silence filled the room. I had imagined this moment hundreds of times. In some versions, I was calm. In others, I cried. Sometimes Leo would get angry, and sometimes he would hug me. But in none of those imagined moments did my parents sit behind us, broken by the very truth itself.
"Yes," I whispered. "He was your father."
Leo looked at our intertwined hands, his small fingers tightening around mine. "Did he know about me?"
My throat constricted. "No," I said gently. "He disappeared before I could tell him."
Leo nodded once, as if trying to be older than his ten years. Then he looked at my father. "Did my grandfather know him?"
My father flinched. I stood up slowly. "That is what we need to find out."
Dad stared at the photo again. "I don't remember this," he said. "I swear to you, Anna, I don't remember standing there with Ethan."