Suicide Season

I walked into the next room and saw a small child in a crib.

Hard to believe... MY child. "How old is she?"

"She's three months old," Shae told me.

"Can I... Can I hold her?" I asked.

"Of course. She's yours, Oliver. Why shouldn't you be albe to hold her?"

I took her in my arms and felt a sudden change in myself. After all, everything I knew was about to change. I held what seemed like the most precious soul on earth in my arms. my daughter. Dark hair, my hazel eyes, and Shae's petite nose. She was a perfect mix of both of us.

"What's her name?"

"Abbigaille Marie... erm, Sykes or Andrews? I mean, I've been meaning to try and get ahold of you..."

"And I live down the street," I laughed. "So are you antisocial or just shy?"

"I just moved in," I laughed. "Anyway... we need to get the tests done to make sure you really are her father... I'm pretty sure you are. I don't sleep around... Often."

"I assume she's my daughter... Either that or she's my brother's. She looks like she could be mine... I hope she's not Tom's kid."

"Either way, her last name would be Sykes," she laughed. "...and I've never met your brother, so don't worry."