The wait was suffocating. Every second stretched like rubber bands pulled too tight. Then he saw her—Lila, tall and confident in scrubs, walking toward him with a calm, polite smile. Justin’s chest tightened. His daughter. She looked so much like Lucy it made Justin dizzy.
“Hi,” Justin said, rising to meet her. “I’m Justin. Justin Smith.” Lila tilted his head, puzzled. “Hi, Justin. Do I know you?” There was warmth in her voice, but no recognition. That warmth cut deeper than contempt would have. Justin’s throat tightened. She didn’t recognize him. Of course she didn’t.