The persistent ringing got on Sierra's nerves. She stormed to the door and looked through the peephole only to see herself confronted with a pair of blue eyes.

"Who is it? If you are looking for the Micheals, they are at the end of the hall."

Sierra turned and took one step when she heard, "Is this sierra Lennox's apartment?"

The woman squinted one eye and looked through the door's peephole again, "who is asking?"

"Eh, I'mㅡ."

"Are you from the tax office?"

"ㅡNo,′ imㅡ."

"Are you a bailiff? because I paid for all my lateness."

"No, please can you open,ㅡthe man looked from side to sideㅡIts a private matter that I can't expose in a hallway."

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but didn't anyone ever tell you not to open the door to strangers?"

Sierra watched the man back away from the door.

When she thought he was gone, she heard the sound of sliding paper. She looked down to find the man's id at her feet.

Jonas Potsmann,

nationality, Swedish,

date of birth 18th of February 1981. Stockholm.

"Hey, mister, this doesn't tell me why I should open my door."

"Are you Sierra Lennox or not?"

"Why, what do you want from her?"

She stifled a giggle as the man's head became deformed by the peephole, which gave him a Chupa Chupa lollipop aspect.

The man came closer to the door; now, his head resembled a light bulb.

Sierra began to back away when she heard.

"I'm the father."

"Excuse me; you are not my father. I assure you."

Sierra saw the man put his hands on his hips and look up to the ceiling while he muttered something; she could read the exasperation on his face.

A cry broke the silence; Sierra left the door and rushed to get Leone, who woke up.

"There, there, Leone, I'm sorry all this shouting woke you up."

The man's knocks on the door made Sierra return with Leone in her arms.

"Madam, are you there? I need to see Sierra Lennox; it's about Leone Gauthier."

"What about him?" Sierra asked as she cradled Leone in her arms. The Gaulthier must have sent him; perhaps he was a foreign advocate.

"I think,ㅡthe man's eyes darted,ㅡ I'm his father."

"What?"

"ㅡI know, it sounds crazy, but I think I'm hisㅡ."

The door sprung open.

"Hello, are you Sieㅡ?"

The man's eyes stopped on the baby, who stared back at him.

"Don't touch him."

Jonas did not even realize he had outstretched his hand, "sorry, it's just he looksㅡ."

Sierra stared at the man starting from the bottom, blue dark rinsed straight jeans, black turtle neck, finally cloudless day sky blue eyes, and blonde fair blond hair. Someone who did not know better would agree there was a striking resemblance.

Up till now, Sierra believed Leone had Cecile's eyes and looks. Now, as she stood in front of this man, it seemed his contribution was high.

A broad smile and a meaningful stare appeared on the man's face," he must be Leone."

"I repeat, who is asking?"

Sierra noticed the silence and looked down. Leone's locked his eyes on the man. Never had Sierra seen the baby this concentrated. Did Leone know or feel a connection?"

Sierra read it somewhere; babies had strong under sense. Leone's reaction only attested to one thing the man meant no harm.

The baby's observant eyes were what prevented Sierra from shutting the door. Even so, Sierra did not let him inside; she pursued the conversation on her doorstep.

"I told you I'm his father."

"No, what you said is you think, now listen. I don't know where you sprung from but, before you come here patting this child's head, you better show me a DNA test as proof. Now, if you don't mind."

Sierra pushed her door, but it remained open as Jonas wedged in a foot, "sorry for bothering you. It's crucial. Until three weeks ago, I didn't know I was a father; I'm still quite in shock. I came all this way to see him. I could not believe it, but it seems evident."

"Listen to me, Mister Potts.

"Potsmann."

"Okay, whatever. It's late; I don't know you. You seem proper, but you could be a serial killer. If you want to talk, come back tomorrow in broad daylight where every single person in this neighborhood will have a clear description of you for the police."

Jonas saw there was no use pushing the conversation further, "alright, I'll leave you for now, but I'll be back."

Sierra slammed the door and w to the living where she deposited Leone on the couch before grabbing her phone.

"What on earth am I doing?" she said as she realized she did not know who to call.

To her surprise, her phone rang before she could dial.

"Good evening Mrs. Lennox."

"Mr. Wagner?

They only met once, but Sierra registered the advocate's voice.

"Sorry to bother you this late in the night."

"No, it's no bother. I was just about to call you. There's this guy who just showed up, and you'll never guess what heㅡ."

"He's Leone's father."

"Yes, he auto proclaimed himself Leone's father."

"No, Miss Lennox, it is true; we just received the DNA tests and custody demand."

"What?"

Sierra's heart began to pound, and her throat became dry. She heaved; it was the third time she felt her world collapsing. Each time separation was the cause, her father's death, followed by Ceciles, devastated the woman. The breakup with Vincent also affected her. Now the idea of losing Leone frightened Sierra more than anything else.

The child had become, in a short lapse of time, a source of joy and happiness. Leone was precious, and Sierra did not plan to give him up. She chose the child over love and Vincent. There was no reason for her to lay arms and surrender to a man who appeared out of the blue no matter what the DNA tests said or how striking the resemblance between Leone and the stranger was.

"Miss Lennox, are you still there?"

"Yes, I am."

"Miss Lennox, I know it might seem like there's no issue, but rest assured these types of procedures are long. Leone's well-being and his mother's last wishes are my priority. As you know, I am here to defend Little Mr. Gauthier, and I will do just that. But I have to admit, Mr. Potmann's presence can have a great impact as he is a legit parent."

The attorney wanted to convince Sierra, who he imagined swallowed by dark thoughts.

Mr. Wagner, thank you for your concern, but don't worry, I'm a little shaken, but I'm not stirred. If my friend left me her child, she had her reasons; otherwise, she would have evoked this man somewhere."

Sierra paused and reflected it was true. Cecile never evoked this man anywhere, or did she?

"Mr. Wagner, please hold on a minute."

Sierra hurried to her bedroom with Leone crawling fast behind her. The baby seemed to have wheels as he fled the living room, not to be left alone.

Until now, Sierra did not need to open the box of letters the advocate handed to her. It was challenging to confront Cecile's thoughts, but now she needed confirmation; she began to rummage in the box. She ripped open every envelope and cross-read. Sierra searched for one pronoun and a name, and there it was.

-Jonas est si mignon. J'ai rarement vu un homme si timide. Il rougit pour un rien, et-

[Jonas is so cute. I've rarely seen a man so shy. He blushes at anything and-]

Jonas, was it him?

How many Jonas could someone cross in a lifetime?

The only Jonas' Sierra knew were the Jonas brothers. Even if Cecile had that upper-scale girl aura, Sierra doubted Sophia Turner or Priyanka Chopra would accept that their the bros had a sidedish which created a dessert named Leone.

No, the man who presented himself at her door had encountered Cecile, but why did he show up now?

Where was he when Cecile agonized?

Why did he not show up at her funeral?

How dare he thought to erupt into her life in this manner, Sierra thought.

"Ms. Lennox, are you still there?" Sierra picked up the phone she had left on the speaker from her bed.

"Yes, Mr. Wagner."

"As I said, I will keep you update. Also, now that we have the DNA results, you can expect their party to ask for a hearing with the new elements."

Sierra sighed, "what can I do, Mr. Wagner? Can he win? Can they win this way?"

The pause at the other end did not treasure Sierra.

"Ms. Lennox, I promise to do my best.

Neither did the advocate's reply satisfy Sierra, who bent down to pick Leone, who tugged on her leg.

"Okay, Mr. Wagner, thank you for calling."

"Please, don't be discouraged, Sierra."

The advocate's words were sincere; he, too, read the social worker's reports on Sierra. The woman had reorganized her house, making a beautiful and welcoming environment for the child. Baby phones, locks on cupboards, safety doors, Sierra invested without touching a penny of what Leone had aside.

Sierra educated herself every time she confronted the social worker with inquiries from the lectures she read. Also, she accompanied Leone to his sessions with the child psychologist.

The woman's entourage uniquely constituted of her brother, and a few close friends seemed healthy.

Nothing could disqualify Sierra, nothing except blood ties, but did it matter?

Mr. Wagner did not think so; in this century, things should be different. Skin color or gender were things that should no longer influence minds. He was happy that Sierra fought with the same convictions.

"Good evening, Ms. Lennox."

"Bye, Mr. Wagner."