She nods, fingers stilling in the grass.
"Second?Eye color.The Walkers' eyes have a distinctive blue color.And yours are clear as the blue sky on a bright summer's day."
"Wow," she murmurs."No one has described them like that..."
She rises abruptly, heading back inside.I run my hands through my hair, wondering if I've somehow made things worse.When I follow her in, she's already asking Emily the question that's been hanging in the air.
"What happens now?"
Emily shifts forward in her seat."You'll need to take a paternity test to establish Cole is your biological father.I've contacted a DNA lab nearby—they can get results in one or two days.If it confirms Cole is your father, you can stay with him.If not..."She hesitates."We'll need to find you a foster family."
"Fine.Let's do the stupid test."Samantha's voice cracks."I don't have another choice, do I?"She whirls to face Emily, arms crossed tight against her chest."Why can't I take care of myself?I'm fifteen.I'm not a baby."Her eyes flash with that Walker fire I know too well."I don't want to live with strangers.If that happens, I'll run away and live on the street."
Her words slice through me like a blade.Memories surface—ones I've spent years burying.The hollow ache after my father's death, the suffocating weight of being alone, the desperate need to prove I could handle everything myself.I see that same lost look in Samantha's eyes, and something shifts in my chest.
The thought of her on the streets or lost in the foster system makes bile rise in my throat.Fuck.This isn't how I planned my day to go, but plans change.Life changes.Sometimes in the space of a single conversation.
"I'm not doubting you're my daughter."The words come out before I fully process them, but they feel right."And I'd like you to come with me to Boston.My place is sizable enough, and you can go to school there."
Emily squeezes Samantha's hand, and we head to the DNA lab.The next twenty-four hours pass in a blur of cotton swabs and paperwork until I'm standing back in Emily's living room, staring at an envelope that's about to change everything.
The paper trembles slightly in my hands as I pull out the results.My eyes lock onto the bottom line:Based on analysis of STR locus listed above, the probability of paternity is 99.99999999%.
I pass the paper to Samantha, watching as those eyes—myeyes—scan the document.Her breath catches when she reaches the results.
"When will we leave?"Her voice is steady, but her fingers grip the paper too tight.
"Tonight.I can book an extra seat for the flight."
She stands, shoulders squared."Fine."And like yesterday, she walks outside.
I sink onto a stool, running my hand through my hair."God, this will be fun."
Emily snickers."I'll be honest with you, Cole.Samantha is acting this indifferent because she's afraid of getting hurt.This is her way of coping with her emotions."Her gaze pins me in place."Are you sure you want to take her with you?It's an enormous responsibility and—"
"Emily."I cut her off."I'm a man of my word and take my responsibilities seriously.Even if I just found out about this, she's my daughter, and I'll never turn my back on my kid."
She nods, standing."I'll arrange the paperwork you need to fill in before you leave."A faint smile crosses her face."But one piece of advice for you, Cole.Get help when you're home.Having a teenager in your house can be quite the challenge."
I wave off her concern."Oh, I'll manage, don't worry."My eyes drift to where Samantha sits in the garden, headphones firmly in place, walls up higher than my penthouse."How hard can it be?"
Fuck.Even I don't believe that one.
5
ALISHA
As I examine myself in the bathroom mirror, I let out a tired huff.Bags under my eyes, check.Dull skin tone, check.After applying foundation, I continue with peachy rose blush to add life to my cheekbones.Makeup is my armor today.The long lash mascara and my signature red lipstick complete the transformation from exhausted to alive.My collection of lipsticks—from soft nude to fire engine red—is my secret weapon.Different shade for every battle.
A loud bang on my door sends the lipstick flying across my face."Fuck."Now I look like the Joker's girlfriend.As I grab a tissue to wipe away the red smear, another bang echoes through my apartment.
"Alisha, open the door!"
I roll my eyes at Amanda's excited voice."Keep your panties on, girl.I'm coming."When I swing the door open, my friend and boss practically bounces inside, radiating an energy that's too much for my sleep-deprived brain.
"What's with the yelling?Did you score last night?Because that enormous smile is disturbing."
Amanda ignores my grumpiness and heads straight for my kitchen."I've found the perfect apartment for you."
