The Millionaire Daughter

Nicholas

"Excuse me, my what?"

The social worker nodded his head and pushed the picture further toward me, I slowly picked it up. I studied the girl closer, noticing just how much she looked like me. My blonde hair and blue eyes. Narrow cheek bones with a sharp jaw. She was the spitting image of me. Still I found myself shaking my head. "No. No, I don't have a daughter." I said surely. I knew I didn't. I'd never gotten a woman pregnant.

"You knew a Stacy Hollingsworth? In 2005, she gave birth to Aalyiah. Seven years ago, she was murdered by her boyfriend, Devin Hart. Your daughter went into foster care, as we were unable to find you. But, there was an series of accidents, and we were forced to dig deeper to find you." Mr. Rose shuffled nervously in his chair as I began to scrutinize him. I had a tendency to make people uncomfortable just by looking at them.

I had known a Stacy Hollingsworth. She and I had been childhood friends, though looking back I remember her as being nothing more than a needy, gold-digging bitch. God, the last time I'd seen her had been when I was seventeen. Could this man be telling the truth...did I really have a daughter I hadn't known about for ten years? "What series of accidents are you speaking of, Mr. Rose?" I asked suspiciously.

He shuffled again. "Sir, you have to understand, this little girl comes with a lot of trauma. She has been shuffled through foster homes since she was three years old. None of her homes have been kind, but some were kinder than others. Child laboring homes were the easiest on her. Others were filled with abuse of all kind...including sexual. We do not know the depths to which men have sexually abused her, she refuses to speak of it, but it has been very traumatic for her."

I leaned forward and folded my hands together in front of me. "Then tell me, Mr. Rose, why would you want to place this girl under the care of another man, even if I am her father?" I had no choice but to believe that she really was my daughter now. This man came with all the evidence. Her mother was Stacy, a woman I hadn't seen in ten years, she was the right age, and she looked exactly like me. But, why me, if she had been sexually abused by other men?

Mr. Rose sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees. He was clearly very connected to this case, perhaps he'd been working with Aalyiah for a while. "Mr. Coleman, this girl deserves the best life possible. We have looked into you thoroughly. You're record is clean, no history of violence or any misdemeanor. Your bank records are clean and consistent, and the IRS has never come after you for tax evasion. Though you are not in our system, you are in the end her biological father, and we like to try and place kids with their biological parents if at all possible." He explained to me, and I nodded along like I understood. But, I didn't.

"I see. I want to ask, though, if my record is squeaky clean unlike the other men, then why did you place her in those homes in the first place?" I really didn't want a child. I wasn't at all fond of children. They were pesky and annoying, not to mention I just didn't have time to care of one.

The question seemed to make Mr. Rose very uncomfortable. "While we try our best, sir, our system does has its flaws. Our main goal is to place kids in a home within three months." He avoided eye contact, meaning he was very uncomfortable.

I shook my head, looking back down at the picture of the little girl. My daughter. I looked in her eyes and all I could see was myself. Her eyes were just as broken as my own, a result of the abuse I'd suffered in my life. No doubt, hers were broken for the same reason. I shook my head slowly. "I can't. I'm not fit to be a dad." I said softly and pushed the picture back in the social worker's direction.

He looked down at the picture and shook his head with a sigh. "Mr. Coleman...Aalyiah is a very sad and broken little girl. When she came to us, we found multiple drugs in her system due her mother. Her mother's boyfriend had smacked her around a lot, causing a lot of damage to her head. Each home she's been in has been abusive. She's never known any love. And at this point, we are out of options for her. I'm begging you, think about this little girl and what she needs. She may not be what you want, but you are what she needs."

Fuck. I hated when people guilted me. I'd never been able to say no to someone begging in near tears. This time was different, though, this time it involved a child. No, I wasn't fond of children, but I wouldn't willingly condemn a child to a life of abuse. I myself knew what an abusive childhood looked like; how could I do that to another?

I sighed, putting my head in my hands as I shook my head. "Alright. Alright, I'll take her. Do tell me the process, though." I said with slight exasperation as I rubbed my temples.

"Well...for now we'll just have you sign some papers for custody of Aalyiah. Given that you had no prior knowledge of her, it won't take much time to get you full parental rights. After which the state will step back and all will be left to you. That will only take about six months. Until then, I will personally be making occasional visits just to check in on you and Aalyiah, make sure she's alright and doing well." He stopped for a moment and gave me a sympathetic smile. God I hated sympathy. "I know this is all a lot, Mr. Coleman."

I laughed humorlessly. "You have no idea." My head fell, my eyes catching sight of the picture of Aalyiah yet again. I still couldn't believe it that little girl was my daughter...

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