Seventy: Jealous.

“Oh my God, dad?!” Amelia walked into Benedict’s ward and Sofia arose from the edge of the bed with an arch between her brows, she had never a smile as wide as the one that crept to his lips.

“Dad?” She somehow managed to mutter beneath her breath and Amelia made her way to Benedict’s side. With everything he had mentioned about his distanced daughter, Sofia was far fetched with how she imagined Amelia to be.

With a slighter darker hair and a greasy chocolate skin, those weren’t even her prominent features. Amelia was pregnant, heavily pregnant like her water was minutes from breaking but she was still flexible in giving her dad a hug.

“It’s really you!” You could hear the doubt evident in his cracked voice as if Benedict was between thinking this was a dream or a hallucination. Sofia, as she stood there was the one who had million questions. For one, where exactly had Amelia been because it had been years since she was estranged, so did Benedict say.

And why was he so welcoming, so