"I have to find her."
The conviction behind my voice surprises even me, but I mean every word. I have a daughter out there, somewhere in this world and I'm determined to find her - even if she has no idea who I am, I have to see her.
That's the only clear thought I have at the moment. My mind is spinning in a hundred different directions with all this newfound information. When Athena said she was pregnant, my mind immediately went back to the last night we spent together - the night before I left for tour. It was a magical night filled with passion, but now my heart aches at the thought that we created a child that night and she didn't want to tell me.
I can understand her reasons for not telling me, but I still wish she would have. She wouldn't have been in it alone. I would've been there for her, and she must know that if she assumed this news would break up the band. I would never abandon the boys, and they would understand if I wasn't around as much. It wouldn't have mattered then like it would have mattered now.
"Harry," Athena's voice brings me out of my daze, and a warmth on my hand causes me to look down and see her hand clutching mine. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"I- I don't know. But I have a daughter out there, Athena. I have to meet her."
"I know. I want to see her too, but it'd probably be next to impossible to find her."
"Then I'll hire someone," I say before I can really give the idea any thought. "Whatever it takes. I just have to see her at least once."
Athena's voice lowers and she glances down at our connected hands before responding, "Okay. If that's what you want, then I'll help you find her."
-
When I get back to my flat, I immediately throw myself into research.
After searching through Google for what feels like an eternity, I come up empty. I've searched every Lily Adams or Lily Styles that's been born within the last seven months, but all of them are still with their birth parents. I know it's probably useless to search anyway, since I'm no detective and it was a closed adoption, but I had to at least try.
I get up from the desk and trudge to the kitchen to make coffee - I know I have a long night ahead of me. I rub the sleep from my eyes as I turn the coffee pot on, before turning to the fridge to retrieve the milk.
The machine beeps and I pour myself a cup and add the milk to it before making my way back into the living room, sitting in front of my laptop and taking a sip of the coffee. It warms my throat, and I already feel more alert.
I open up a fresh tab and type in Google.com and begin searching for private investigators. I look through every result within the first seven pages, searching for the best investigator based on skill - not price. No amount of money will keep me from finding my daughter.
I scroll through one of the result pages, and there's not much information, but enough to pique my interest. The more I look at this page, the more I realize that it's different from the rest. There's no overcompensation saying how great the employees are, or how many cheaters they've caught. This investigator's page - David Lockwood, I learn - is more minimal, describing his abilities and how he'll work his hardest to help his client.
I know I should be skeptical about him, but he seems so much more genuine than the other sites I've looked at. He only takes one client at a time, ensuring that he can put all of his efforts into helping that one client. I like that. I don't need him to be distracted, nor do I want him to be.
That's why I begin dialing his number.
I'm about to hang up when I realize what time it is, but a rough voice on the other end stops me. "Hello?"
