It was that red hair.
I tried to walk away from her so many times. I tried to leave her behind, tried to forget about her.
I managed it a few times, a few months here, a year there. But every time, I came crawling back home.
At first, she would be happy I was back, my leaving forgotten. But that joy wore off more and more every time, until she told me to either stay or go forever.
That red hair made me stay.
After all, it proved without a shadow of a doubt that she was my daughter.
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