Page 37 of Vegas Baby

As I collect Nadia on Friday afternoon, Maria seems antsy.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, concerned. “Did Nadia not do well today?” She’s been having more trouble than usual settling for sleep at night, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there was likewise some shift in her daily routine.

“No … it’s not that. I just …” Maria chews on her lip.

My brows bunch together. “What?”

Maria scrunches up her nose. “I know it’s not my place but … you never said who her father is and, well …”

I give her a small, pained smile. It’s not the first time someone has asked, and I know it won’t be the last. I shift Nadia to lean against my shoulder as I take a seat on the couch. Maria sits anxiously next to me as one last toddler that hasn't been picked up plays on the floor in front of us.

“I’m not sure what Sebastian has told you …” I start nervously.

Maria shakes her head. “Nothing. I didn’t ask him. I figured if I was going to ask, I should ask you directly. If that’s okay.”

I nod and take a deep breath. “Sebastian helped me get out of a bad situation with Nadia’s father. He was … not a nice man, and we were involved romantically for a while, but that ended before I was with Sebastian. Well … because I was with Sebastian, I suppose, though it had long been over for me,” I ramble. Then I shake my head and collect myself. “Anyway, he was sent back to Russia. And that is where he remains. In a grave now, as it were.” I grimace.

Maria purses her lips. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she says. Except I can hear the “but” she’s not saying.

“But?” I prompt.

She blanches. “How’d you know there was a but?”

I shrug. “Intuition.”

Maria snorts.

“That’s funny?” I ask, confused.

“Ironic,” she admits drily, then hastily adds, “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

I give her a confused look. “That’s okay, but I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re implying.”

Maria rolls her lips into her mouth before she speaks again. “What if I told you that you were wrong?”

Now I’m really confused. Andrei isn’t dead? How on earth would Maria know if she’s only just learned of him?

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” I confess.

Maria’s eyes flick down to Nadia, who is happily chewing her fist. “I had a suspicion. And the more I looked at her, the more I knew,” Maria says, not really explaining anything.

“And?” I push.

“I did a cheek swab on both her and Sebastian,” Maria says, drawing a paper out of her pocket, unfolding it, and offering it to me. “Sebastian is her father, Kira.”

I blink hard. My heart drops. My head spins. I lean forward to catch my breath and Maria quickly takes Nadia from me.

I take a few deep breaths until I feel like I can sit up again and snatch the paper from where it settled on the couch between us. “That’s not possible … the timing …” I protest as my eyes scan the page.

But it isn’t just possible.

It’s true.

A simple chart lists numbers for “alleged father” and “child” with a very clear bottom line “Probability of Paternity.” And that number is 99.348%.

Sebastian is Nadia’s father.

“This can’t be,” I whisper. I look up at Maria, who is gently rocking Nadia. Nadia is beginning to fuss, possibly sensing my distress.

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