“Crazy, huh?” Tonya tightened her grip on her chair arms, fighting the urge to rise and meet Rick’s volume. “Imagine what these past few weeks have been like for Layla. Here she is, an eleven-year-old girl going to school in the midst of a pandemic, wearing masks on the subway as she commutes to and from classes, worried about contracting a deadly virus. Yet, in spite of everything, she feels somewhat safe because she’s lived in the same nice apartment for a decade. She’s always had food on the table and clothes on her back. She feels secure and loved. Then, overnight, all that safety is taken away. She learns that there is a father out there who knows of her existence but wants nothing to do with her, and she’s thrown out of her apartment because you abruptly stopped paying child support without any warning. Large guys barge in while I’m at work, taking all her stuff, tossing it on the street, breaking photo frames, and ripping up her artwork.”

Tonya’s voice caught on the memory. As she composed herself, she realized that Kelner must be a father. The man’s eyes looked sad.

Rick folded his hands like a hammer. He beat the air once before letting his hands drop onto the chair arms.

Tonya transferred her stare to his slumped figure across from her. “I want a down payment on a home to make sure that Layla never deals with anything like that again. And I don’t think that’s crazy, especially given that she knows she has a dad out there, desperately wants to reach out to you, and you’re asking me to deny telling her your identity for a whole year and support her on a waitress’s salary alone. There won’t be any extras for her. No new clothes. No shoes if she grows out of them. We are staying in a room in my boss’s home at the moment. Layla has to go to school with their kids, feeling like a homeless charity case. You don’t think she deserves to maybe have some stability after all she’s going through—all you’ve put her through.”

Rick’s eyes dropped to his lap. “I didn’t know. I…uh…I’m sorry…I understand.”

“Do you?”

Rick pressed his eyelids shut with his thumb and forefinger. “It will take time. But once the divorce is finalized, I’ll make sure you get the down payment and the back child support. I’ll sign something to that effect.”

Tonya felt her lashes flutter. She hadn’t expected Rick to give up so easily. The man she’d once known had been full of fight. But the guy across from her had been beaten down—figuratively but, perhaps, also literally. Clutching his side was clearly not for show.

Tonya barred her arms across her chest. “Good. Then we can proceed.”

*  *  *