The girl appeared behind her.

“Mom?”

The word hit him like a blow.

Mom.

Emily stepped in front of the girl instinctively.

“Leave,” she said coldly. “Now.”

“Emily…” Daniel began.

“Don’t say my name in my house.”

The girl looked between them, confused.

“Mom, who is he?”

Emily swallowed.

“No one. Go to your room, Lily.”

Lily.

The name knocked the air out of him.

The girl hesitated.

“But Ethan said—”

“Lily, go.”

She obeyed, glancing back once before closing the door.

Daniel stood frozen in the hallway.

“Is she mine?” he finally asked.

Emily let out a dry laugh.

“Straight to the point.”

“Please…”

“Don’t start with ‘please’ now.”

Her arms crossed, trembling.

“Yes,” she said. “She is. Her name is Lily. She’s eleven. She was born seven months after our divorce.”

Daniel leaned against the wall.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked at him like he was something she had already survived.

“I did. And you called me a liar.”

The memory hit hard.

Their last fight. His accusations. His mother’s voice. Lawyers. Papers. And the words he had buried:

“I don’t even know if it’s mine.”

Emily continued, steady and sharp.