Fiona nodded slowly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. But the harm was done. How could Maris, someone we trusted, confuse our little girl like this?

That night, after Fiona slept, Lina and I sat in the living room.

“What was she thinking?” Lina said, her voice shaking with anger.

“I don’t know,” I said, holding back my own frustration. “But she went too far. We need to talk to her tomorrow.”

The next morning, Lina called Maris and asked her to come over. Maris walked in, acting confident as usual, but Lina wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat.

As soon as Maris stepped inside, Lina let loose.

“What’s wrong with you, Mom?” she snapped. “Why did you tell Fiona Joren isn’t her real dad? Do you know what you’ve done?”

Maris blinked, surprised by the anger.

“Hold on,” she said, raising a hand. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. It was just a little story. No big deal.”

“A story?” I cut in. “She’s been scared to cut her hair for months because of your ‘story.’”

Maris rolled her eyes, like we were overreacting.

“Oh, please. I just wanted her to keep her hair long,” she admitted. “She’s a little girl! She shouldn’t have a short haircut like yours, Lina.”

Lina’s jaw dropped.

“So you lied to her? Made her think Joren wasn’t her dad just for her hair? Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”

“She won’t remember it later,” Maris said. “But she’d remember looking silly in pictures with a boyish cut.”

“This isn’t about hair, Maris,” I said sharply. “You messed with our family. You made Fiona doubt I’m her dad. That’s not okay.”

Maris pressed her lips tight, then said something that broke our calm. “Well, with Lina’s wild past, who knows if you’re really her dad?”

What? What else would she say to cover her mistake?

That’s when Lina snapped.

“Get out,” she said, pointing to the door. “Leave our house. You’re not welcome here.”

Maris tried to backpedal, mumbling she “didn’t mean it like that,” but I wasn’t listening.

I stepped forward, opened the door, and pointed firmly. “Now, Maris. Go.”

She glared, muttering as she left, but I didn’t care.

After slamming the door, Lina and I looked at each other.

Lina sank onto the couch, face in her hands.

I sat beside her, putting an arm around her. “We’ll get through this,” I said quietly, though I was still furious.

Lina nodded, but I saw her heartbreak. “I can’t believe my own mom did this.”

That evening, we sat with Fiona, explaining gently.

I held her small hands and looked into her eyes. “Fiona, I’m your daddy. I always have been and always will be. Grandma’s words weren’t true, okay?”

Fiona nodded. “So you’re my real daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie,” I smiled. “Always.”

“Grandma shouldn’t have said that,” Lina added. “It’s not your fault. We love you so much, Fiona. Never forget that.”

Fiona seemed to ease up, but she was still nervous when Lina got the scissors to cut out the gum.

Yes, the gum was still there.

“Do I have to?” Fiona asked, holding the tangled hair.

“Just a tiny bit, honey,” Lina said. “It’ll grow back fast, and you’ll feel better without the gum.”

After a moment, Fiona nodded. “Okay, but just a little.”

As Lina snipped the gum out, a small smile appeared on Fiona’s face.

“Daddy?” she asked.

“Yeah, honey?”

“When it grows back, can it be pink?”

Lina and I laughed.

“If you want,” I said, messing up her hair.

Over the next few days, things got better. Fiona seemed happier, even asking Lina to braid her hair again, something she hadn’t done in months.

As for Maris, we’ve cut contact.

Lina and I agreed she can’t be in Fiona’s life until she owns up to what she did.

It wasn’t easy, but keeping Fiona safe and happy is what matters. We’ll do anything for our little girl.