I took a deep breath to stay calm.

“Fiona, honey, I’m your daddy,” I said gently. “Why do you think I’m not?”

Her lip trembled, and she whispered, “Grandma said so.”

What? Why would Maris tell her that? Who was this man Fiona meant?

“What did Grandma say, sweetie?” Lina asked softly.

“She said I need long hair so my real daddy knows me when he comes back,” Fiona said, gripping her curls tighter. “She said he’ll be upset if he doesn’t recognize me.”

I couldn’t believe it.

“Honey,” I said, “what do you mean by ‘real daddy’?”

Fiona sniffled, staring at her hands. “Grandma said you’re not my real daddy. She said my real daddy left but will come back, and if I look different, he won’t know me.”

“Fiona, listen,” Lina said, holding Fiona’s hands gently. “You did nothing wrong. You’re not in trouble. But tell me exactly what Grandma said, okay?”

Fiona paused, then nodded. “She said it’s a secret. I shouldn’t tell you or Daddy, or he’d be mad. But I don’t want anyone mad at me.”

My chest tightened, and I swallowed hard.

“Fiona,” I said softly, “you’re so loved—by me, by Mommy, by everyone. No one’s mad at you. Grandma shouldn’t have said that.”

Lina’s eyes teared up as she hugged Fiona tight. “You’re our daughter, Fiona. Your daddy—your real daddy—is right here, always.”