“But not enough,” Sophie said quietly.
“No.” The word was barely audible. “Not enough.”
The car pulled up to Sophie’s building, a five-story walk-up with peeling paint and a broken intercom. Alexander stared up at it, and Sophie watched something shift in his expression. Not disgust. Something worse. Guilt.
“Fifth floor,” Sophie said, opening the door. “There’s no elevator.”
“I don’t care.”
They climbed in silence, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell that smelled of cooking oil and old carpet. On the third-floor landing, they passed Mrs. Rodriguez struggling with grocery bags. Sophie automatically moved to help.
“Gracias, mija,” Mrs. Rodriguez puffed, eyeing Alexander with open curiosity. “Who’s your friend?”
“Just someone from work,” Sophie managed.
By the time they reached the fifth floor, Alexander was breathing harder than he probably had in years. Sophie fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking so badly she dropped them. Alexander bent to pick them up, their fingers brushing as he handed them back.
“Sophie,” he said, “Before we go in, I need you to know… whatever happens in there, whatever your mother says, I want to help. Medical bills, treatment, whatever she needs—that’s not contingent on anything. Do you understand?”
Sophie met his eyes. “Why? If she lied to you, if I’m not actually…”
“Because I failed her once. I won’t do it again.” His voice was steel. “And because no one should have to watch someone they love die because they can’t afford healthcare. That’s not right.”
Sophie nodded, not trusting her voice, and opened the door. The apartment was exactly as she’d left it: cramped, dim, the air thick with the sound of her mother’s raspy breathing. Elena was still in bed, a book open on her lap, but Sophie could tell she’d been sleeping.
“Mom?” Sophie called softly.
“Sophie?” Elena’s voice was groggy. “You’re home early. Is everyth—” She stopped mid-sentence as Alexander stepped into view behind Sophie. The book fell from Elena’s hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Her face went white as paper, then flushed red, then white again. She tried to sit up, her hands clutching the thin blanket like it might shield her.
“No,” she whispered. “No. This isn’t… You can’t be.”
“Elena.” Alexander’s voice broke on her name. He took a step forward, then stopped, looking lost. “It’s really you.”
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Two people who had loved each other a lifetime ago, separated by twenty-five years and an ocean of regret. Elena looked so different from the girl Alexander remembered. Thin, where she had been curvy. Gray, where she had been vibrant auburn. Tired, in a way that went bone-deep. But her eyes—those green eyes that used to light up when she laughed—those were the same.
“How did you…?” Elena couldn’t finish the sentence. Her gaze shifted to Sophie, standing frozen between them. Understanding dawned across her face. “Oh God. Sophie, what did you do?”
“I saw his tattoo, Mom.” Sophie’s voice trembled. “The same one as yours. I had to.”
“You had no right!” Elena’s voice cracked with emotion—anger, fear, something desperate. “You had no right to bring him here!”
“Mrs. Carter,” Alexander started, then corrected himself. “Elena, please. I just want to talk.”
“Talk?” Elena laughed, a bitter sound that turned into a cough. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath. “What could we possibly have to talk about after twenty-five years?”
“How about the fact that you told me you miscarried when you were actually pregnant?” Alexander’s voice rose despite himself. “How about the fact that I might have a daughter and you never told me?”
“Might?” Elena’s eyes flashed. “You think I’d let just anyone with a matching tattoo into my home? You think this is some kind of scam?”
“I don’t know what to think!” Alexander ran his hands through his hair, frustration and confusion pouring out. “You disappeared, Elena! You told me our baby was gone and then you vanished. What was I supposed to believe?”
“You were supposed to respect my choice.” Elena tried to stand but swayed dangerously. Sophie rushed to her side, helping her sit back down. “You made it very clear what you wanted, Alex. You handed me money and told me to take care of it. So I did. I took care of it. I took care of her.” She gestured at Sophie. “Alone.”
“Because you lied to me!” Alexander’s voice was raw now. “If you’d told me the truth, what?”
“You would have played happy family?” Elena’s laugh was harsh. “Your father threatened to disown you. You were terrified of losing your inheritance. You think I wanted to trap you? Force you to resent me and our child for ruining your precious future? That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” Elena’s voice rose, stronger than Sophie had heard it in months. “You want to talk about fair? I was alone and pregnant at twenty years old. I worked in a diner until I was eight months pregnant. I lived in a basement apartment with rats. I gave birth in a county hospital and had to argue with them to let me stay an extra day because I had nowhere else to go!” Tears streamed down her face. “I have spent twenty-five years doing everything—everything—to give Sophie a good life. So don’t you dare come into my home and talk to me about fair.”
The apartment fell silent, except for Elena’s ragged breathing and the distant sound of sirens outside. Sophie stood between them, tears running down her own face.
“Stop. Both of you, just stop.” She turned to her mother. “Mom, you’re sick. You need help. Real help. The kind we can’t afford.” Then she turned to Alexander. “And you. I don’t care if you’re my biological father or not. She raised me. She’s been there for every scraped knee, every bad dream, every single moment of my life. You don’t get to judge her choices.”
Alexander’s shoulders slumped. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He looked at Elena. “I’m not here to judge you. I’m not here to demand anything. I just… I need to know. Is she mine?”
Elena closed her eyes. For a moment, Sophie thought she wouldn’t answer. Then, so quietly they almost didn’t hear: “Yes.”
The word hung in the air like a grenade.
“She’s yours,” Elena continued, opening her eyes. “Sophie is your daughter. I knew the moment I saw her. She has your eyes. Your stubborn chin. As she got older, it became even more obvious. But I never told her who you were. I never spoke your full name. I wanted to protect her from… from this.”
Alexander sank into the only chair in the room, a rickety wooden thing that creaked under his weight. He put his head in his hands. “Twenty-five years. I’ve had a daughter for twenty-five years.”
Sophie felt like she was watching the scene from outside her body. This billionaire, this stranger, was her father. The father she’d imagined a thousand different ways growing up. Sometimes she’d pretended he was dead, a tragic hero. Sometimes she’d imagined he was out there searching for them. Never had she imagined… this.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” Elena said, her voice steadier now. “I made my choices. Sophie is an adult. You don’t owe us.”
“Don’t.” Alexander looked up, and his eyes were red. “Don’t tell me what I owe. I’ve missed everything. First steps, first words, first day of school, birthdays, Christmases… everything.” His voice broke. “I can’t get that back. But I can…” He stopped, looking at Sophie. “What do you want? What do you need?”
Sophie laughed, a slightly hysterical sound. “What do I want? I want my mom to not be dying. I want to not work seventy hours a week and still not have enough money for groceries. I want to finish my degree. I want…” She trailed off. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“It matters to me,” Alexander said fiercely. “Tell me. Please.”
Sophie looked at her mother, who nodded weakly. “Mount Sinai has a specialist,” Sophie said quietly. “Oncologist. Dr. Reeves. Her office told us the consultation alone is twenty-five hundred dollars. We’d need comprehensive scans, which are another eight thousand. Then treatment, if it’s what we think it is, could be hundreds of thousands of dollars.” She laughed bitterly. “So yeah, that’s what I want. An impossible amount of money to save my mom’s life.”
Alexander pulled out his phone. “What’s the doctor’s name again?”
“What are you doing?” Elena asked.
“Dr. Reeves. Mount Sinai.” He was already typing. “My assistant can get you an appointment this week. Tomorrow, if possible.”
“We can’t afford—”
“I’m paying,” Alexander said simply. “For all of it. Treatment, medication, whatever it takes.”
“No.” Elena shook her head. “I don’t want your charity.”
“It’s not charity.” Alexander looked at her steadily. “It’s twenty-five years of child support I should have been paying. It’s healthcare that should have been covered. It’s…” He swallowed hard. “It’s the least I can do. Please. Let me do this.”
Elena and Sophie looked at each other, having one of those wordless conversations only mothers and daughters could have. Finally, Elena nodded. “Okay.”
Alexander’s fingers flew across his phone. “My assistant will call you first thing in the morning. You’ll see Dr. Reeves tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have a car pick you both up.”
“Just like that?” Sophie whispered. “You just… snap your fingers and solve everything?”…
