Sleep in the spare bedroom, my wife announced about the child. Youve got a daughter. Shes seven.
David nearly dropped his phone. Sarahs voice after eight years of silence.
Sarah? Is that you?
Yes. We need to meet. Its urgent.
What a daughter? What are you talking about?
Come to the café on Oxford Street in an hour. Ill explain everything.
The ringtone blared. David stood in the middle of the office feeling like hed been struck by lightning. A daughter? From Sarah? Theyd split up eight years ago!
He called home and told Emma hed be late at work. Emma, as usual, muttered something about dinner. Oliver was probably glued to his computer again. Fifteenyearold boy, only interested in video games.
At the café, Sarah sat by the window, gaunt, dark circles under her eyes, a scarf over her hair.
Hi, David.
Hello. What whats wrong with you?
Cancer. Stage four. I have two, maybe three months left.
David sat opposite her, a lump forming in his throat.
Oh God, Sarah
Dont feel sorry for me. I didnt call because of that. I have a daughter. Mira. Your daughter.
My my? We were careful!
It doesnt always work out. I found out I was pregnant a month after we broke up. Youd already gone back to Emma.
Why didnt you tell me?
Why? You chose your family. Your son. I didnt want to wreck things.
David fell silent, remembering that year. How weary hed been of Emmas endless complaints, money demands, newthing cravings. How hed met Sarah lighthearted, carefree, asking for nothing but love.
Three months of bliss. Then Emma gave me an ultimatum either I came home or Id never see my son again. Oliver was seven then, crying, begging his dad to return.
I went back. I never saw Sarah again. I didnt even say a proper goodbye just a text that it was over.
Show me a picture.
Sarah pulled out her phone. On the screen was a little girl with blonde hair, grey eyes his eyes.
Oh my shes a miniature version of me as a child.
Yes. And the same stubborn streak, but a good heart.
Where is she now?
At home, with a neighbour. David, Im dying. I have no relatives. If you dont acknowledge paternity, Mira will be sent to a childrens home.
Of course Ill. A childrens home? Shes my child!
And my wife? My son?
Ill sort that out later.
David, think this through. Its not a toy. A child who will lose her mother, be traumatised, scared. Your family might not accept her.
Its my daughter. End of story.
Sarah burst into tears, silent and soundless.
Thank you. I was terrified youd refuse.
When can I see Mira?
Now, if you like, but better to prepare and warn the family.
That evening David called a family meeting. Emma sat stonefaced. Oliver stared at his phone.
I have a daughter. From another woman. Shes seven.
Silence. Then an explosion.
What?! You cheated on me?
Eight years ago, when we were on the brink of divorce.
We werent on the brink! You ran off to a whore!
Emma, stop. Sarah is dying. The child will be left with nobody.
And what? Thats our problem?
Its my daughter!
A stray daughter! I wont let her into the house!
Oliver looked up.
Dad, why do we need her?
Shes your sister.
Shes no sister! A stranger!
David stared at his wife and son, strangers themselves. When had they become so cold?
Ill take Mira, with or without your consent.
Then choose us or her!
Emma, seriously?
Absolutely. Its either the family or your bastard.
Dont you dare call my child that!
Ill call her what I like! In my house!
This is my house too.
Not for long.
A week later Sarah was moved to a hospice. David arrived to collect Mira.
The little girl stood in the hallway with a tiny suitcase, thin, pale, large eyes.
Hello, sunshine. Are you my dad?
Yes, love. Im your dad.
Mum said youd pick me up.
I will. Youll live with me now.
And mum? Is she getting better?
David sat on the edge of the bed.
Mira, mum is very ill. She might not get better.
Will she die?
Possibly.
Mira nodded, didnt cry. She seemed to understand.
Ive packed a few things. Mum said youll buy new ones.
Ill buy anything you want.
At home Emma met them in the hallway.
Is this your brood?
Emma, at a child!
Whats the difference? Let her know her place straight away. Shell sleep in the spare bedroom.
In the spare bedroom? Have you lost your mind?
Where else? No spare rooms left.
In the guest room.
This is my study!
Now its the nursery.
Mira pressed against the wall, eyes full of terror.
Dad, maybe I should go to a childrens home?
No childrens homes! Youre my child, youll stay here.
Well see, Emma hissed.
The first week was hell. Emma ignored Mira. Oliver teased her, calling her the squatter. Mira ate after everyone else, slept on the pullout couch in the guest room Emma refused to buy a proper bed.
Why spend money? She might not settle.
David tried to protect his daughter, but work ate whole days. At home it was a battlefield.
Sarah died a month later. David took Mira to the funeral. She stood by the grave, lips biting, not crying.
Dad, is mum in heaven?
Yes, love.
Does she see me?
Of course.
Then Ill be good, so she isnt upset.
Life at home got worse. Emma openly bullied Mira, wouldnt let her eat when David was away, forced her to clean the whole house. Oliver hid her things, ruined her notebooks.
David intervened.
Emma, stop! Shes a child!
A foreign child! Know your place!
Shes my child!
Your son! Oliver! This is your mistake!
Three months later a breaking point arrived. David came home early, heard shouting.
He rushed upstairs. In Olivers room Oliver was beating Mira with a belt.
Youll learn not to touch my stuff!
I didnt touch anything! Mira sobbed.
Youre lying, you little witch!
David burst in, snatched the belt, pushed Oliver away.
What the hell are you doing, you monster?
She took my tablet!
I didnt take it! Mira huddled in a corner, bruised all over.
Even if she did, what right do you have to beat her?
Mum said you have to discipline!
Did Mum say that?
David went downstairs. Emma was making tea.
Did you let Oliver beat Mira?
Discipline, not theft.
Shes a child! Seven years old!
So what? Let her get used to it.
Thats enough. Im leaving. Im taking Mira with me.
Please, just remember Oliver stays with me.
Fine, he can stay. If youve raised a sadist, I dont need that son.
David packed in an hour. Mira sat on the bed, trembling.
Dad, because of me?
No, love. Because of them. Lets go.
What about my brother?
Hes not your brother. Hes not family.
They rented a twobedroom flat on the outskirts. Miras first smile was when she saw her own room.
Really mine?
Yes. Well set it up however you like.
Can we get pink wallpaper?
Sure, even gold if you want.
The divorce was messy. Emma demanded everything. They split the flat, sold the car. Child support for Oliver was a quarter of Davids salary.
But David didnt mind. He watched Mira blossom, stop being scared, start laughing.
School was tough at first new, shy. A kind teacher helped her settle.
Dad, Ive got a friend!
Really? Whats her name?
Molly. She invited me to her birthday!
Great! Lets get her a present.
A year later Oliver called.
Dad, can we meet?
Why?
I need to talk.
They met in the park. Oliver had grown, but his eyes were still sad.
Dad, Im sorry.
For what?
For Mira. I was wrong.
I know.
Mum said she was a stranger, thats why you left us.
I didnt abandon you. I ran from cruelty.
I know now. Mum found a new man. He raises me too. A stepdad.
So what?
Ive figured out how Mira felt. Can I see her?
Ill ask her.
Mira hesitated at first, scared, but David persuaded her maybe her brother had changed.
They met at a café. Oliver brought a huge plush bear.
Mira, Im sorry. I was a fool.
Its okay. We all make mistakes.
Are you really my sister?
Yes. By blood.
Can we meet sometimes?
Mira looked at her dad, who nodded.
Only if you stop hitting her.
Never again, I promise!
They started seeing each other. At first rarely, then more often. Oliver grew protective, helped with homework.
When he turned eighteen, he moved in with his dad.
Mum, Im going.
To that traitor?
To dad. And my sister.
Shes not your sister!
She is. Real sister. And you youre just a nasty person.
Emma was left alone. Her new boyfriend dumped her for a younger woman. Oliver stopped calling. David stopped paying child support the son was an adult.
In the cramped twobedroom flat, life was tight but happy. Mira excelled at school. Oliver went to university, worked parttime.
One evening they all sat around the kitchen, tea in hand, laughing.
Dad, Mira said, thanks for taking me.
Its me who should thank you, David replied.
For what?
For being here. For showing me what truly matters.
And whats that?
Love. Not money, not status. Love.
Oliver nodded.
Dads right. I realized it when Mum chose a new man over me.
Mums just unhappy, Mira said.
Why defend her after everything?
Because anger destroys the holder of it. Mum told me that. Shes a real mother.
David hugged his daughter.
Smart mother you had.
She was, but I have you, a dad, and a brother now. Thats family too.
Real family, Oliver added.
And that was the truth. Blood isnt the only glue. Sometimes its the choice to stay together, despite everything.
