1. Surprise

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His eyes were wide, like he had heard her incorrectly. The care free attitude from just moments before vanished and she found herself already forgetting about that friendly smile he had offered her only an hour ago.

"What?" The older man uttered softly.

The girl sighed, forcing her eyes to remain emotionless even though in the inside it was anything but. Her hand fiddled with the corner of the envelope buried deep within her jeans pocket.

"I'm your daughter."

He was still staring, probably dumbfounded at what to say before putting a hand through his dark blonde locks. She didn't even realize he was leaning forward until he laid back comfortably into the cheap cushions once more.

His eyes turned to slits and the airy fun atmosphere went vile, so thick she could just about taste the atrocious vibes radiating from him.

Alright, she thought, taking in his reaction. No denying I wasn't prepared for this. You have been so for years, no pussyfooting out of it Johanna.

"Daughter?" He repeated hatefully. "So hold up. What you're trying to explain to me is that you," he shot an accusing finger in front of her face. "a fourteen year old-"

"Fifth-teen actually," The girl reminded him gently. "but my birthday is-"

"- traveled almost a thousand miles all by yourself with no adult supervision, located my home address and job, made a false meeting about your "financial troubles" which I remind you is during very busy work hours..." He paused, considering his next choice of words, and looked at her more menacingly than before. "All for you to tell me I have a daughter I never even knew about?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But the financial crisis is indeed true, because you know..."

The older man put a hand up to stop her and shook his head. Johanna knew if she didn't come up with something fast traveling here would be for nothing.

He continues, "I think you are a very confused young lady and probably should leave- perhaps seek some form of help too. Sorry you came all the way up here, but c'mon, you definitely have the wrong person. I only have a son-"

"Do you know of a woman named Beth Wilson?" Johanna questioned almost desperately.

The hatful look faltered for a moment, he carefully studied her face and she could see from his expression the pieces were undoubtedly starting to fit together by now.

"How do you know that name?" He finally hissed.

"Because," Johanna broke eye contact with him, looking down at the gold encrypted ring that hugged her middle finger. "She was my mother."

A few agonizing seconds went by.

"Oh really. Beth? She had a kid?" He asked, but it sounded more to himself. The older man began to tap at his desk, noticeably a little harder each time."W-where is your mother now?"

"She died three days ago." Johanna said lightly, remembering the skinny hand around her own. She felt her eyes sting but refused to cry.

The tapping ceased.

The girl's opposed father must of sensed this and awkwardly reached out, placing his huge hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss." He mumbled, his gaze not exactly meeting her own.

She took in a deep breath before shrugging his hand off. Johanna refused to be pitied, her mother had taught her better than that. She locked eyes with him and raised her chin high. "It's honestly not a big deal, I've known for a long time she was going to die."

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