I stood at the kitchen sink, staring at the half-full coffee mug in my hand. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the quiet street outside.

Mornings like this used to mean peace and warmth, knowing Lily was just upstairs, getting ready for school. But lately, things felt different.

I set the mug down with a sigh, listening to the faint sound of Lily’s footsteps above. She used to charge down the stairs, hair a mess, excitedly sharing her dreams. Now? She dragged her feet, barely speaking, like there was a weight on her shoulders.

“Lily,” I called, hoping for a response. “You want pancakes?”

“Not hungry,” she muttered, her voice flat.

I winced. She hadn’t sounded like that before. Drying my hands, I turned to face her as she came down.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s going on? You’ve been kinda quiet lately.”

A child’s backpack | Source: flickr.com/megforce1/Public Domain

She shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “Nothing.”

I hated that response. She used to tell me everything. She pulled on her backpack and moved toward the door.

“Lily, wait.” My heart raced. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?”

She paused, hand on the doorknob. I thought she might open up, but her shoulders stiffened, and she just nodded.

“Yeah. I know.” Her words were hollow. She opened the door and slipped out without another word.

I stood there, feeling the silence close in on me. Something was wrong. I just didn’t know what yet.

That afternoon, while doing laundry, I noticed Lily’s backpack tossed on her bed. I figured I’d clean it out before washing it. As I dug through the mess, I found a note.

“I’m your real dad. Come and see me last Monday of September behind the school.”

My heart stopped. Real dad? What was this?

I was Lily’s dad. I’d raised her since birth. Kate, my wife who’d been gone for six years, wouldn’t have hidden this. Would she?

I felt sick. The note felt targeted, like someone knew how to hurt me through Lily. But who? And why?

I wanted to confront her, but something stopped me. I couldn’t do that to her, not yet.

The note said to meet on the last Monday of September, in two days. I needed to know who was behind this.

Two days later, I sat in my car, watching the school. I hated following my daughter, but I had no choice.

I saw Lily walk slowly to the back fence, her shoulders tense. Then I saw him: Jeff, a guy from work. My blood ran cold.

Lily hesitated before approaching him. I cracked the window to hear.

“You came,” Jeff said, almost too calm. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Lily didn’t respond but fidgeted with her backpack straps.

“I know this is a lot,” Jeff continued. “But your mom wanted you to know the truth.”

I couldn’t sit there anymore. I pushed the door open and stormed toward them. “What the hell is going on here?”

Jeff flinched. “Trent, I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk?” My voice shook with rage. “You think you can just tell my daughter you’re her father?”

“He deserves to know. Kate and I… had something. Lily is my daughter.”

I couldn’t believe it. “No. You’re lying.”

“She didn’t want to hurt you.”

I turned to Lily. “Lily, don’t listen to him. He’s lying.”

“Is it true? Dad… is it true?” she whispered.

I dropped to my knees. “It doesn’t matter what anyone says. I’m your dad. I’ve been there every day of your life.”

She stared at me, lip trembling. I turned back to Jeff, rage flaring.

“Get out of here.”

Jeff sighed, looking sad. “I know this is hard, but I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not her father.”

He gave me a pitying look before walking away. I wanted to chase him, but Lily’s sob pulled me back.

I wrapped my arms around her. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

That night, I lay in bed, mind racing. Could it be true? Could Kate have hidden this?

I thought about every moment we’d shared. Nothing made sense.

The next day, I dug into Jeff’s past. I couldn’t wait for answers.

I found out he’d been fired a month ago for lying on his résumé. Relief washed over me. He’d lied about everything.

A few nights later, Lily and I were on the couch, not really paying attention to the show. I knew I had to talk to her.

“Lily,” I said softly, “we need to talk about Jeff.”

She tensed but didn’t say anything.

“He lied to you. He’s not your real dad. He was trying to hurt us.”

“But what if it’s true?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m your dad. I’ve always been your dad.”

She stared at me, then nodded. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, kiddo.”

Days later, I got a call from the police. Jeff had been arrested for stalking another family. It was over. I hung up, feeling relief.

Lily was at the table, drawing quietly. I walked over and kissed the top of her head. We were going to be okay.