“… it’s your child. Time to step up.”

The words echoed in his mind long after the call ended. A voice from his past—one he couldn’t even place—had just dropped a bombshell that left him reeling. At first, he’d brushed it off with a laugh, thinking it was some absurd prank.

But now, standing in the doorway of the living room, the joke was gone. The child he’d never known about was right there, sitting on his couch, left at the Ministry’s front door with a small bag and no explanation.

You sat quietly, eyes glued to the cartoon Terzo had put on, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling behind his eyes.

“So, kid…” he muttered after a long silence, awkwardness seeping into his voice. “You want anything to drink or something?” It was all he could manage, still grappling with what to say—or how to be what you needed.