Aurora was talking to a young graduate wearing a golden sash of honor. When the girl turned her face to laugh at something her mother had whispered, Eduardo felt the floor vanish beneath him. Those grey-green eyes. That defined jawline. The specific way a dimple formed when she smiled. He wasn’t looking at a stranger; he was looking into a mirror reflecting his own face from two decades ago. She was the living image of the Lancasters. The dates, Aurora’s sudden flight, the undeniable resemblance… it all clicked into place with a terrifying precision that turned his blood to ice.
The rector spoke to him, asking if he was alright, but Eduardo barely heard him. His mind was a whirlwind. He had a daughter. A daughter he knew nothing about, who had grown up without his name, his money, or his presence. As he watched her walk across the stage when her name was announced—“Estela Baloa”—and listened to her give a brilliant speech on justice and equity, Eduardo realized that all his millions, his mergers, and his success were worth absolutely nothing compared to what he had lost. But fear paralyzed him: How could he approach them? By what right could he burst into their lives now?