“I don’t believe in this nonsense,” I said exasperatedly, throwing the pregnancy test back into the sink. “Do you believe that our marriage will improve if you give me a child?”
“A child always brightens a house, we could use a little more joy here,” she said hopefully.
“You want joy? Go to a circus,
woman. Why do you have to invent this child? Why bring a child into this world? Do you think we can take care of a child?”
“Why wouldn’t we be able to take care of our child?”
“What you’re trying to do is find reasons not to see me going out on Saturday nights,” I said, thinking she was so ridiculous. Her desperation to always have me around made me irritated. “I don’t want to, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“If you don’t want to, I’ll take care of our child myself, Jason,” she said, her voice already becoming emotional and wanting to cry. I rolled my eyes and turned to brush my teeth. “You don’t need to worry about taking care of the child if that’s the problem, I will take care of and give all the love my child needs. So you can continue living your life without any worries.”
And now Laura had done it. Why would she tell me she was pregnant, if she was already divorced from me, and on top of that, she knew I didn’t want to have children? It was always my fault, if Laura hid this child, it was all my fault. Damn, she gave birth to me. I closed my eyes tightly when I realized that I didn’t know what Laura’s daughter’s name was, I hadn’t even been interested in the girl. I almost wanted to throw a wall in my face, a possible daughter has been right under my nose. this whole time without me noticing! Furthermore, I should have paid more
attention to the details.
“Mr Davies, are you there?” Sanchez asked on the other end of the line.
“Yes, yes, I am,” I replied after clearing my throat. “Did you find anything?”
“Incidentally, yes, sir. On July 20, 2018, at 10:44 p.m., Laura Thompson was admitted
to the maternity ward at Staten Island Health Center and gave birth to a healthy baby girl who was registered like Anne Thompson,” he said, making me gasp
slightly.
“Anne… “I stammered. What a beautiful name! “Give me more information about the
child, Sanchez, please,” I asked, eager to hear more.
“Okay, sir,” he said promptly, and I could hear his fingers tapping the keyboards
quickly. “Well, the girl lives with her mother in the neighborhood of Staten Island
and attends Saint Laurent daycare, which is a 15–minute drive from her house.”
“A daycare…?” I checked the time, it was 3:08 p.m. Would she be at daycare now?”
Good. Do you have any information about the child’s father?” I asked, already
researching, how long it would take to get to the Saint Laurent nursery.
The child was registered as being fatherless, sir. There are no records of the girl’s
father,” he said, and I sighed.
So if Richard was the child’s father, why the hell didn’t Laura let him register Anne
as his daughter? That only meant one thing, that girl was my daughter! “Great,
wonderful!”
“Do you need anything else, sir?” Sanchez asked, and I denied.
“No, no, see you next time, Sanchez. Thanks for your help.”
“Always count on me, sir,” he said, taking his leave.
So I immediately called my secretary. “Yes, Mr. Davies? How can I help?” She asked.
“Prepare my helicopter immediately and have a car prepared for me to use personally in Staten Island, I’ll be at the airfield in five minutes,” I ordered, already. printing Anne’s photo, getting the daycare address, and getting my coat, so I could.
go to my daughter.
Laura may have tried to make me separate from her, but now nothing and no one
will take my daughter away from m
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