“Are you Valerie?” he asks sternly, his brow furrowed.
I nod silently in response, taking a moment to size him up with a dismissive, appraising glance of my own. Let him know I’m not exactly dying to gain a dad.
“My name is Darren Ledmer. I’ve arranged an appointment; they’re expecting us at the clinic.”
His voice is pleasant, deep, but I don’t look anything like him! Who would look at us and think, ‘father and daughter’? Not even close! This whole charade needs to end. I’ll head back and give Bella a piece of my mind! But then, a sudden urge washes over me, and words spill out before I can stop them:
“No ‘hello,’ no ‘how was your trip?’ You don’t need to strain yourself, Mr. Ledmer. This isn’t a big deal to me. I just wanted to see the man who broke my mother’s heart. By the way, you could at least offer your condolences if she meant anything to you,” I throw at him, my voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t need a father’s attention or care anymore!” And just as I turn to walk away dramatically, his firm fingers grip my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Valerie, but we need to settle this once and for all. Please, it won’t take long,” he says deliberately, enunciating each word, his dark, almost black eyes piercing into mine. That gaze cuts right through me, and damn it, it makes me comply! “Ugh, I hate this feeling. I don’t like being dependent on anyone! So where’s this sudden submission coming from?”
“Fine. I hope you get lucky, Mr. Ledmer, and this turns out to be a false alarm,” I mutter discontentedly, rubbing my shoulder.
Darren seems so anxious and tense, as if this is a life-or-death matter for him. At first, when we got into the car, I found it amusing. Now it’s starting to unnerve me. During the twenty-minute drive to the clinic, he doesn’t utter a single word. I’m starting to think if I poked him, he’d scream in terror. I picture this scene in my head and can’t help but smirk, which draws a puzzled look from him. “Man, you’ve really stepped in it. Living your quiet life, not a care in the world, and now a daughter drops out of nowhere! Looking at your face, I can see what ‘total disaster’ looks like. Does he think I’m going to demand a spot in his will or beg for money?”
“Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Loran Kenz,” the doctor who’s about to draw my blood greets me with a polite smile, though he, too, seems to scrutinize me a bit too closely for my liking.
This is starting to irritate me! I feel like a horrible inconvenience in someone’s orderly life. I never imagined that as a potential daughter, I could provoke such a reaction!
“Don’t worry, Valerie, it won’t hurt. If you’re squeamish about blood, just look away,” Loran mumbles, preparing the syringe.
“I’m not scared. Where’d you get that idea? If anything, it looks like you’re all the ones who are afraid of something. I just want to get this over with. When will the results be ready?” I shrug nervously, trying not to look at poor Mr. Ledmer. The man looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Please, let him not be my father. He clearly doesn’t want this, and honestly, I couldn’t care less!”
“Within the hour. It’s an express test,” the doctor replies with charming reassurance, carefully holding the vial of my blood ... like some kind of maniac!
While waiting for the results, I wander off to grab a bite. Amazingly, Darren doesn’t even offer to join me out of courtesy. No, he’s practically glued to the doctor, staring at the vial of blood with sheer panic. Ugh, so many emotions, so few words!
After roaming this unfamiliar town for a bit, I find myself in front of a small café. I realize how much I just want to go home, to my favorite mug and the cozy corner by the kitchen window. But hunger wins out in my current list of priorities. If I don’t eat something, on top of this awful day for Mr. Ledmer, I might just bite him.
“I’ll have an omelet and a double espresso, please,” I say to the waiter, settling at the bar counter.
I never sit at a table in a café when I’m alone—it feels like it highlights my solitude too much. It’s different when you’re with someone; then, sitting at the counter isn’t necessary, and you don’t have to act like you’re just popping in for a quick coffee. Brushing off idiots who think a girl at the counter is an easy target? That’s second nature to me by now.
I’ve long stopped being surprised that I draw attention, and of course, I ignore the stares or attempts to strike up a conversation. But this time, for some reason, I feel compelled to glance at the guy who sits down next to me, turning his head my way. It’s like a magnetic pull—I’m about to twist my neck staring at him.
“Wow!” he grins as soon as I finally look at him. Dimples appear on his cheeks, the kind I’ve always found adorable. People with dimples instantly seem sweet to me, and this guy turns out to be pretty cute, too. His genuine smile somehow makes the café feel cozier all of a sudden.
Sometimes it’s like that—someone hasn’t even opened their mouth, and you already feel horribly uncomfortable in their presence. But other times, a look or a compliment can breathe lightness and confidence into you, if not more.
“You don’t see someone like you every day,” he says, and from the way he looks into my eyes, I can tell he means the uniqueness of my eyes.
The thing is, I was born with heterochromia—one eye is light brown, the other green. I’m used to it, but people often find it rare and fascinating.
“Yeah, well, thank goodness nature at least kept the rest of me symmetrical,” I say, sipping my coffee and sneaking a glance at him. I want to grin like an idiot, but I hold back.
“They say people like you often have unusual talents,” he continues with a hint of playful irony. Unlike me, he seems completely genuine and at ease.
“Oh, absolutely. You’re looking at a hereditary witch!” I reply with matching irony, finally letting myself smile. “I wander the world, searching for a place where they’ve stopped burning witches at the stake.”
“Then you’re in luck—this is just the spot,” he nods, now studying me intently, as if trying to read some registration number off my aura. “Are you here for long, or might you consider sticking around for good?”
“Can’t say,” I shrug casually, inadvertently getting lost in his radiant gray eyes. “I might vanish in an hour, or I might linger a bit.”
“Well, if you change your mind about vanishing,” he says, standing up, “come by the Pantheon Club tonight. I work there as a DJ. Just say you’re there for Jake, and they’ll let you in for free.”
“And that’s it?” I think to myself, sighing heavily. “What a shame. Just another standard meet-cute, with predictable lines and an outcome I already know. The guy seemed nice, sure, but this little episode will probably fade as soon as the door closes behind him. He didn’t even ask my name! I’m not chasing after you to your club!”
***
“To determine whether she’s your daughter or not, I don’t even need to run the usual complex tests. Just add a strontium isotope to her blood, and the reaction will tell us if she’s an ordinary girl or if she belongs to the Shudra,” Loran said, mixing a drop of blood with some powder on a slide. “Let’s see ... Holy Grail!”
Leaning in, Darren saw the frothy mixture.
“Oh, gods, she’s ... not entirely human! So she does belong to my people,” he whispered in shock, his face flushing, then graying, before finally turning pale. “But this can’t be! Neither among us nor the Parits have children ever been born from human women. How is this possible?!”
“Apparently, it is possible. You’ve been living here for centuries. Let’s say your genes started mutating, and now they might be compatible with human ones.”
“How can we tell how much of my genes she has? How much of her is Shudra, and how much is human?” Darren asked, casting a bewildered look at the doctor. “Loran, I need to know if she can transform and develop abilities. ... This is just unthinkable. ...”
“That’ll take more time. Give me a few days, and I’ll tell you what your daughter is capable of. She’s yours, Darren—accept it. You have a biological daughter. Should I congratulate you? Because she’s quite a character!”
“I’m still struggling to believe it,” Darren muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. “So I’d like to ask you to keep this under wraps for now. I need to prepare my clan for the news. I have to inform the head of the family.”
“Of course,” Loran nodded, bending over the microscope again.
One of Darren’s unique traits was his talent as a tracker. He could find anyone, anywhere, quickly and without fail. Trusting his instincts, it didn’t take long for him to locate the girl.
***
“Shall we sit?” Darren nods toward a bench in a side alley. He appeared out of nowhere, right around the corner. Strange, how did he find me so unerringly without even using a phone? He didn’t even ask for my number! What, is this some kind of paternal instinct? Am I imagining things, or does he really look pale?
“So?” I look at him expectantly, waiting for the verdict, not even sure why I’m starting to tremble.
Darren thoughtfully strokes his neatly trimmed goatee, which only emphasizes the gravitas of this reserved man, so burdened by the possibility of fatherhood.
“You really are my daughter,” he says, as if delivering a sentence.
Freeze frame! Then my thoughts start racing, calculating what this means for me, and I realize it’s time to hit reverse and pedal as hard as I can.
“Well, that’s unfortunate. But I’m not claiming anything, Mr. Ledmer. I doubt I’ll even be able to call you ‘Dad,’” I say, gathering myself and sighing, though with a strange sense of relief. “Alright, now that we’ve sorted this out, I think we can part ways by mutual agreement.”
“No!” The indignation in his voice makes my eyes widen in surprise. “I understand we’re not close, that we don’t know each other. I get where you’re coming from, my girl. But now that I know you exist, I want to be a father to you, Valerie. I can’t just let my child go!”
“Good grief, talk about persistent! That determination in his eyes is kind of winning me over—I’m even a bit thrown off. Here we go, first he’s practically fainting in the clinic, wanting nothing to do with me, and now he won’t let me go! What am I supposed to do with him?”
“Pfft, but—” I shake my head, regaining control of my emotions within seconds. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t need looking after. I’ve managed just fine without a father, and I’m not sure anything needs to change now. You can’t turn back time or reclaim missed opportunities. What, are you going to take me to the zoo and buy me popsicles at twenty-three years old?”
“But I’ve got time to make up for what I’ve missed. There’s a whole life ahead of us—don’t write me off just yet,” he says, a spark of resolve lighting up his dark eyes. I can feel the sincerity in his desire to get to know me better.
“Valerie, I don’t have any other biological children. I do have an adopted daughter, Anna. I’ve been married to her mother for fifteen years, but we’ve never been able to conceive a child of our own. Finding out you’re mine is a huge shock to me. It’ll be ... a surprise for my family, too.”
“One hundred percent an unpleasant one,” I exhale, giving him a scrutinizing look.
“You’re so much like your mother, Valerie,” he says, sadness creeping into his eyes, which only further chips away at my resistance.
“I don’t know what you see of Mom in me, maybe my short stature and one green eye. I don’t really look like anyone.”
“In a way, yes, you’re unique ... to me.” “Oh, my dad’s a smooth one, getting to me with nothing but his words! But you, mister, have no idea what kind of ‘wonder’ you’re signing up for!” “What I mean is, now you don’t just have a father, but cousins, aunts, uncles, and even nieces and nephews. Here in this town, there’s a whole Ledmer clan. They’ll be thrilled to welcome a new family member. But I’ll need some time to prepare them.”
“Sounds weird, like you’re about to present your clan with the child of some terrible sin or a freak you’re ashamed of. We’re not—”
“You don’t understand what you’re talking about, Valerie!” he interrupts sharply, not letting me finish, and takes my hand. What a ... strange feeling. “I really want you to stay. Now that I’ve gotten over the shock, I want to embrace this joy. Your mother would probably have wanted us—you and me—to be together. And I’m sorry you had to go through her decision and her passing. Please, Valerie, give me a chance!” He looks at me with intensity and determination, and I start to imagine how, many years ago, my mom must have gazed lovingly into those same velvety black eyes.
And once again, driven by my natural curiosity, after a moment of thought, I nod in agreement. Let’s see what kind of character you are.