Chapter 2 No

“I’m not lying. I am your father, Emily.”

The words landed quietly, but inside her, everything shook.

No. No, that couldn't be right.

Her breath caught painfully in her throat.

"What?" she whispered, hoping she had heard wrong.

Sister Agnes shifted behind her but said nothing.

Victor didn't look away as he repeated the words. "I am your biological father."

Biological. Such a clinical word. Emily felt like she was floating outside her own body.

How could he be her father? Fathers didn't appear out of nowhere. Fathers didn't wait twenty-two years and fathers certainly didn't look at their daughters the way this man was looking at her calmly, and carefully, like he was assessing an investment.

"You're mistaken," she said quickly. "There has to be a mistake."

"There isn't."

"You probably have the wrong records."

"I don't."

"You should check again."

"I already have."

Each answer was short and certain as though there was nothing left to discuss. Emily's heartbeat quickened.

If he was telling the truth, then everything she believed about herself was wrong.

Every night she'd stared at the cracked ceiling wondering why she'd been abandoned.

Every birthday she'd secretly hoped someone would appear. Every excuse she'd invented to make the pain hurt less.

Maybe they were dead. Maybe they were poor or were too young. She looked at him and every one of those possibilities crumbled before her because this man didn't look helpless.

He looked powerful. Not just powerful but powerful enough to have found her years ago. So why now?

"If you were my father," she said, her voice trembling despite herself, "why didn't you come before?"

Victor remained silent. She took a step toward him and asked again.

"Why did you leave me here? Why are you just coming?"

He still didn't answer. The silence burned more than any answer could have.

“Why?” she asked again, mentally telling herself she'd leave the office if he still doesn't say anything.

"There were circumstances," he finally said.

Emily stared at him in disbelief.

"Circumstances?" she repeated.

The word sounded almost laughable. "Circumstances don't last twenty-two years."

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I could not acknowledge you before now."

Not I didn't know. Not I searched for you. Not I'm sorry. He just said, I could not acknowledge you.

"So why now?" she asked, lifting her chin.

"Because it is time."

"Time for what?"

He glanced around the tiny office, taking in the faded walls, the worn carpet, the old wooden desk.

"You've lived here long enough," he said. "You'll be coming with me."

Her stomach dropped at the words. Coming with him? Leaving just like that?

The orphanage wasn't perfect. It wasn't filled with laughter. Sometimes dinner was little more than bread and soup. Sometimes winter nights were unbearably cold but it was her home.

It had watched her grow up and it had held every memory she had. Her friend Clara, the children and the old oak tree she'd sit beneath whenever life became too much. This place was home.

"You can't just show up and take me."

"I can." His answer came without hesitation. "And I will," he added.

Something inside Emily snapped.

"No."

The word came out louder than she intended.

Victor regarded her calmly.

"No?" he repeated.

"I don't know you."

"You will."

"I don't even know if I believe you."

"The documents are genuine."

"Documents don't make someone a father."

For the first time, the room fell completely silent.

Sister Agnes finally spoke, her voice gentle.

"Emily... we've verified everything. The records confirm what he's saying."

Emily turned to her so quickly her neck hurt.

"You knew?"

Sister Agnes shook her head. "Only since yesterday."

"So everyone knew except me?"

"No—"

"You let him ask questions about my life before anyone even spoke to me?"

Sister Agnes lowered her eyes. "We had to be certain."

Emily laughed bitterly. "Seems everyone needed certainty except me."

She looked back at Victor. If he really was her father then why didn't she feel relieved?Why didn't she feel safe? Why did he feel like a complete stranger?

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?" she asked quietly.

His answer came without emotion.

"Because it wasn't necessary."

Emily stopped breathing for a second.

Twenty-two years of waiting, wondering and believing no one wanted her so none of it was necessary.

Tears burned behind her eyes. She blinked rapidly. She would not cry at least not in front of him. Not when he hadn't earned a single one of her tears.

"So what happens now?" she asked.

Victor straightened the sleeve of his jacket. "Now you come home with me."

Home. The word felt painfully wrong. She had dreamed of hearing that word for years.

She had imagined her father or mother in tears, apologizing and running toward her. She'd imagined a family embracing her.

Instead, she got a man in an expensive suit giving instructions. She searched his face one last time if she could see guilt or regret but she found nothing.

"Do you..." she began, her voice catching. "Do you know my favorite color?"

The question surprised even her. Victor frowned slightly but shook his head.

"No."

"My favorite food?"

"No."

"What I wanted to become when I was a child?" She asked and when Victor remained silent, she gave a small, humorless smile.

"You don't even know if I'm afraid of the dark. You don't know that loud thunderstorms keep me awake. You don't know I love old romance novels. You don't know I used to sit outside every night and wonder if my parents were looking at the same stars," she said and for the first time, Victor looked away but only for a second.

But Emily noticed and continued.

"You don't know me," she whispered.

"No."

"And yet you expect me to walk away with you."

"I expect you to accept reality."

She shook her head. "My reality has been this place for twenty-two years."

"You'll adjust."

The cold certainty in his voice made something inside her harden. Her hands trembled, but her voice didn't.

"No."

Victor's eyes narrowed slightly.

"No?"

"I'm not going anywhere

with a man who suddenly appears and calls himself my father," she said and both their eyes met. Neither of them looked away as the silence between them stretched, heavy and unyielding.