I wandered aimlessly through the flooded streets, the city lights blurred by rain and tears, the weight of exhaustion and despair pressing down on me until I felt like I might collapse right there on the pavement, and just as everything seemed to reach its breaking point, the black Mercedes slowed beside me, the window lowering to reveal a man with sharp features and steady, intense eyes, his voice calm and unexpectedly gentle as he asked, “Excuse me… are you okay? And the baby?”
Instinctively, I pulled back, distrust rising immediately, shaking my head and trying to move past him, but he stepped out quickly, holding an umbrella over us, his voice firm yet careful as he said, “Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not here to hurt you. I need to tell you something… about your daughter.”
I froze, my heart skipping. “About Emma?”
“My name is Adrian,” he said quietly, meeting my gaze. “This is going to sound unbelievable… but I believe I might be her biological father.”