Chapter 3 - The Ghost Returns
Our bags were packed, and we were scheduled to fly to New York the next morning.
But that evening, a heavy knock echoed against our cheap apartment door.
I looked through the peephole and felt my entire body turn to ice.
It was David.
The man who had abandoned me eighteen years ago was standing on my welcome mat.
He looked older, wearing a cheap suit and a fake, apologetic smile.
I opened the door just a few inches, keeping the security chain locked tight.
"What do you want, David?" I demanded, my voice trembling with old, buried anger.
"I saw the video on the news, Clara," he said, trying to look past me into the apartment.
"I realized I made a huge mistake, and I want to be a father to my son."
I laughed bitterly, disgusted by his transparent greed.
"You didn't care about him for eighteen years, David."
"You only care now because his face is on every television screen in the country."
"That is not true!" he protested loudly, pushing his hand against the door.
Noah suddenly appeared behind me, resting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"Mom, let him speak," Noah said calmly, pulling the door open.
David smiled widely, reaching out to hug the son he had never met.
Noah did not move a single inch, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I don't know who you are, mister, but my father is the woman standing right next to me," Noah stated firmly.
"She did both jobs, and she did them perfectly."
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"Now get off our porch before I call the police for trespassing."
David's fake smile vanished, replaced by an ugly scowl as he turned and walked away.
