The Morning Everything Changed
One morning, I walked up to her porch at 7 a.m. like always.
But this time, a man was there.
He had her by the hand, and she was pulling back, crying.
When she saw me, she screamed:
“Daddy!”
The man turned and looked at me.
And the resemblance hit like a punch.
Same eyes.
Same nose.
Same face shape.
Only his expression was cold.
He said, flat and impatient:
“You must be Daddy Mike. Come here. We need to talk. I have a deal for you.”
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