It’s such a beautiful day for a disaster. The sky is powder blue, with the sun spreading warmth across tree-tops, as I tilt my head back, admiring how tranquil it must be way up there. Clouds have always appeared like cotton to me—a dense material, yet thin and can be pulled apart like string cheese. Yet, clouds are made of gas and can slip right through a person’s fingers. So, as I stand here as the FBI and Jerry go back and forth, I am like a cloud—present but almost invisible.

“So, let me get this straight…” Jerry runs a hand through his long, rocker hair as we stand in the garden of the photography studio. “You’re sending her to the wolves, and her only protection is some flimsy, wired surveillance device!?” 

“Sir, we’ve done operations like this many times.”

“Angelo is unstable!” Jerry makes his point with a wild wave of his arms. “He said he’s going to off himself. How do we know he doesn’t plan to kill her before taking care of himself?”

“Sir,” the FBI agent sighs. “We understand your concerns, but the team is highly skilled and has done this type of thing for longer than Valerie has been alive. She’s in good hands.”

“Mistakes happen!” Jerry insists.

“Yes, they do. However, we’ll have eyes on her at all times—”

“From a distance!”

“Yes, from a distance with sniper rifles and undercover agents who will be nearby. Not to mention, we’ll also be listening, and as soon as Valerie gives the signal, my unit will swoop in to arrest him. This will go fast. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I have every reason!” 

“Jerry.” I place my hand on his elbow and gaze up at him. “It’s ok. I’ve got this.”

“Yeah, she does!” Julian sneaks up and drapes his arm around my shoulder. “So, quit harassing the nice FBI lady, and let them do their job, Jerry.”

“Thanks,” I say to Julian with a quiver in my smile, so he faces me and stares directly into my eyes.

“Val, you’re doing the right thing. As much as I would love for Angelo to end up six feet underground and for you to inherit his money, I don’t want him to kill himself. Turning him in will result in justice for you and the Moreno family, but at the same time, save his life. That’s a good thing. You’ve got this.”

He engulfs me in a hug, but lets go when the FBI agent clears her throat and says they need to finish prepping me.

After twenty minutes, they're satisfied with the positioning of the listening device on my body and tested the sound. The FBI team gives me another rundown of what will happen. But I don’t need the repetition. I already know what’s about to happen. I’m going to meet my father at the Conservatory of Flowers, he’s going to tell me the truth, and once I have my answers, I’m giving the signal which will betray him by having him arrested.

No one would ever blame me for doing this. He has lied to me all my life and betrayed me more than anyone ever will. Yet, a sense of ick peppers my arms in goosebumps, and my stomach twists so uncomfortably I have to hug myself.

“You ok?” the lead FBI agent asks. 

“Yes.” I nod, even though bile coats my tongue.

“This is almost over.” She squeezes my shoulder with a smile. “And soon, you’ll be reunited with your family.”

“What?” My gaze darts to her.

“The Moreno family was contacted as soon as we discovered that your DNA matches Valentina’s. Your mother flew in from Mexico City last night.”

The word mother blares in my ear like a cannon. For as far back as I can recollect, the woman I knew as mother was Elaine Rossi. A soft-spoken, kind, and gentle woman with grey clouds in her eyes. The woman I know as Amelia Moreno is a stranger I saw on a YouTube Julian showed me. 

Having the FBI agent refer to her as my mother, causes icicles to claw down my back. It numbs me and sobers me all at once because my life is about to change even more than it already has.

And I’m not ready for it.

∆∆∆

When I arrive at Golden Gate Park, I’m alone, but I know the undercover FBI agents are out there, watching. So, I climb the cement steps leading to the conservatory, and try my best to appear confident as I push my shoulders back, even though on the inside, I’m quivering like a cat after a bath. It’s Wednesday, so there aren’t many people around to witness the chaos about to unravel. After a few more steps, I reach the entrance where sun glares off the glass door. Then a thought hits me. 

What if my father isn’t coming? What if he’s sitting in a hotel somewhere, dead, and the maid will find him in the morning? My hand retracts from the door, and I step back, but someone’s reflection appears behind me. The man wears sunglasses, a Giants baseball cap over bushy hair, and an oversized, black trench coat. When he reaches for me, I flinch with a yelp, so he whispers in my ear.

“Follow me.”

“Dad?” I spin around.

“Come with me.”

Without hesitation, I accept his hand as he holds it out to me, and we proceed to walk away from the Conservatory of Flowers. It’s strange how, even in a situation where the FBI is on standby to arrest my father, holding his hand is like cookies baking in the oven on a rainy day. When I was a little girl, his smooth yet callused hand was always much larger than mine. Something about that felt like he would always protect me from the harsh world. 

Except, as it turns out, I needed protection from him. 

We walk in silence for what feels like forever, but it’s probably only a couple of minutes, and then we stop by a row of eucalyptus trees with their lazy branches swaying in the afternoon breeze. We’re not far from Ocean Beach, and I can almost hear the waves crashing on the sand, but maybe it’s just the blood pressure whooshing in my ears because of how hard my heart is thumping. 

My father faces me as he leans against one of the trees and takes my hands.

“I’m sorry about keeping Linda and the kids a secret,” he begins to say, and my stomach tightens like a lemon getting squeezed for juice. “They’re not my kids. I meant what I said about putting them on my insurance. She was a single mom struggling to make ends meet after a nasty divorce from some rich asshole. So, yes, I did marry Linda, and I’ve been helping her raise the kids since their father wants nothing to do with them, which is why they refer to me as their dad. I met Linda at a bar just a little before your mom died, and I lied to her about my name. I don’t know why. I think I just wanted to feel like someone else. She gave me her number, and for weeks I did nothing with it, but one day, I had a weak moment and texted her. Things were rocky between your mom and me because of her depression, and I found comfort in talking with Linda, but I never told her I was married. Instead, I lied and said that I traveled for work as a salesman. Then when your mom died—”

“It created an opening to be with Linda,” I cut him off, grimacing in disgust. 

“No.”

“Yes, it did, and you continued pretending to be Alexander De Marco. A single, childless man, ready for a wife! Lucky you.” I wipe the tears rolling down my cheek. 

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sounds simple enough! You cheated on mom.”

“I did not.”

“It might not have been physical, but it was an affair. Mom did not deserve that!” I shout, and no matter how much I keep wiping my eyes, the tears keep coming.

“Listen to me.” He grabs my arm, but I jerk away and step back

“And what about Miranda?” I glare. “You carried on a secret life with her too. Or did you think I forgot about her? You’re a compulsive liar who lives multiple lives. Who else is out there I don’t know about? Are you even telling me the truth?”

“Yes.” He clasps my arms and looks me dead in the eyes. “I promised to tell you the truth, and I am. Even though it fucking hurts telling you just how horrendous I am. Even though it dismantles everything, you’ve ever known about me.”

As I glare at him, my entire body is at war with my head and heart. I simultaneously want to slither away yet remain in a bubble with my dad, and learn as much as possible about the real him—about how I came to be Valerie Rossi. Because I’m running out of time, but so is he, and he’s crumbling in front of me.

The whites of his eyes are webbed in scarlet and submerged with tears as his mouth curls with words that won’t come. Then, a whimper from deep within his chest crawls up his throat and spurts from his mouth. As much as I don’t want to, I believe in his pain. It’s as if his body can’t contain the demons scratching for release from the inside out, so he raises his hands and grabs fist-fulls of his hair. He takes rapid short breaths like he’s firing a weapon, but it doesn’t seem to calm him, and his eyes scan the ground and then bounce to me.

“I don’t know how to explain this to you other than to say…” my father takes a deep breath, then continues. “I am fucked up, and you are right. I lie, and lie, and lie, and I don’t know why I keep doing it. Maybe it’s easier to forget about the things I’ve done and to forget about Elaine? But the one thing I’ve been honest about is my love for you. I’ve never lied about that. You are my daughter. I love you more than I love myself.”

“But I’m not your daughter.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Two DNA tests say I’m not.”

“I don’t care what those damn tests say!” He shakes me, and I shrink to the ground with a yelp.

“Shit! I’m sorry,” he blurts and retracts his hands. “I know I keep hurting you, but I promise this is all going away. You won’t hear from me again.”

“Dad.” I scramble to my feet and cling to him. “Please don’t do what I think you’re going to do.”

“It’s the only way I can make this right,” he says into my ear.

“No, that’s you quitting on me!” I cry in his arms. “Why would you put that on me? Don’t you realize how it will ruin me even more?”

“Valerie…” he takes my face in his hands, his watery eyes scanning mine. “You are not ruined. You are so resilient and have your whole life ahead of you. One day, this mess will be behind you.”

“How? There is still so much I don’t understand. Like all the furniture and photos in the storage shed that I thought we lost in the fire. Was it real, or did you set our house on fire?” 

“Take this.” He reaches into his pocket and shoves an envelope in my hands. “It explains everything.”

“I don’t want this!” I shove it back at him. “I want you to explain right now like you promised, not some letter.”

“I gotta go, Valerie.” He steps back. “I love you. I’ve always loved you, from the moment I first saw you in Yosemite.”

“No, wait!” I reach out, but he keeps backing away and saying how much he loves me. My eyes are so filled with tears that I can hardly see him through the blurriness of it. “Don’t you leave, not like this.” 

“I love you, Valerie. Goodbye.”

When he turns away, I throw my arms around him and begin imploring as incoherent strings of words spew from my mouth. The last few weeks have vanished—his betrayals gone, and I no longer give a single damn about Valentina Moreno. I don’t want to let go of the man I know as father. 

Because without him, who am I?

My eyes are closed so tight as I cling to him, and he keeps ripping my arms away, but I can’t let go. Not like this.

Then, I realize it’s not my father peeling me away. It’s the FBI. They’ve swarmed us with guns aimed at him. Someone finally manages to yank me away, and they drag my dad in the opposite direction and shove him to the ground with a boot to his back as they twist his arms behind him. 

“You’re hurting him!” I yell, but Julian is at my side and pulls me close.

“Let them. That piece of shit deserves it!” he says.

“But… he’s my dad,” I whisper.

And then, I watch as they haul him across the grass towards a police vehicle. We lock eyes one last time, and I should hate him with my entire soul, yet my heart shatters into countless pieces and floats into the air like dandelion seeds. 

Because Angelo Rossi is part of me, and that half of me is being shoved into a squad car. I don’t know what takes over, but I race up the grass embankment towards the sidewalk, my lungs ablaze with each breath as I pump my legs forward. Julian shouts for me, but I’m like a bullet, heading straight for my father, and his fingers miss me when he attempts to grab my shirt. 

Everything fades. The wind hissing through the trees. The cars honking down the busy street. Even my erratic heartbeat slows to a hum. My gaze never wavers from my father’s, and I can see a bit of hope bloom in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth lift. 

When I reach him, two officers block my path, but we don’t break our connection. 

“I love you!” I shout, and the breath he releases comes out in a sob, but his shoulders relax. As if his fight is over. As if he’s at peace with everything. Perhaps I am too.

“I love you too, baby girl!”

And then, the door is slammed in his face, the sound whipping through the air like lightning striking a mountain. I flinch.

Maybe in the morning, this will have all been a dream?

Except, I know it’s not.