Alexandra’s voice broke.
“What’s her birthday?”
Ethan looked at her.
Nora did too.
Ethan answered.
“March ninth.”
Alexandra’s knees nearly gave way.
“No.”
Ethan’s expression tightened.
Alexandra whispered:
“No.”
Nora began crying.
“Dad?”
Ethan went to her immediately.
He crouched.
“Hey.”
“Look at me.”
Nora’s eyes stayed on Alexandra.
“Is she…”
She could not finish.
Ethan held her arms gently.
“You are my daughter.”
“Okay?”
“That does not change.”
Nora looked at him.
“But is she my…”
Alexandra turned away.
She could not hear the word.
Could not survive it yet.
Ethan said:
“We don’t know everything.”
That was technically true.
Emotionally, it was cowardice.
He knew enough.
Nora’s locket.
Birthday.
The old newspaper photograph.
The eyes.
And the name Alexandra Vale.
He had known for three days.
He simply had not expected the woman herself to appear beside a broken car on Highway 82.
Nora looked at Alexandra.
“Do you know me?”
Alexandra turned back.
“No.”
The answer shattered something in the child’s face.
Alexandra rushed to correct it.
“I mean…”
“I knew you when you were a baby.”
Her voice shook.
“I loved you before you could say my name.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Nora stared.
Alexandra took one small step.
She stopped before Ethan could move again.
“I won’t touch her.”
She said it to him.
Not to Nora.
“I won’t do anything.”
“I just need…”
Her breath came unevenly.
“I need to know.”
Ethan rose.
His face was pale.
“I think we need somewhere private.”
Alexandra looked at the road.
Her car.
His truck.
Reality returned in pieces.
“My meeting.”
She pulled out her phone.
Still no service.
“I need a phone.”
“There’s a diner six miles down.”
“Drive there.”
Ethan hesitated.
Nora climbed into the pickup without being told.
She slammed the door.
Alexandra watched her through the glass.
“My daughter is in that truck.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“So is mine.”
The words landed.
Alexandra looked at him.
He did not apologize.
He should not.
Whatever biology said, Ethan had eight years Alexandra did not.
Eight winters.
Eight birthdays.
Fevers.
School mornings.
Nightmares.
First bicycle.
First lost tooth.
Every ordinary thing Alexandra had imagined until imagining became unbearable.
Alexandra closed her eyes.
When she opened them, her voice was quieter.
“You’re right.”
Ethan seemed surprised.
Alexandra looked at the pickup.
“I don’t know what happens next.”