What? This man? This homeless looking, spendthrift, drunk was her father? No! That couldn’t be! Her father had been respected and successful. He’d loved his family. He’d died! Her father was dead. She remembered the funeral… didn’t she? Hazel grasped at filmy memories floating through her brain, trying to get one to stop still for a minute and come into focus. Her mother had told her all about the funeral. She'd been five-years-old and sad and confused. There had been a church and a graveyard, right? But not one of the hazy scenes flashing through her head would stay. She realized then she had no images of her own stashed in her memory. All she had were the images her mother had planted. There were no photos. Indigo had said she’d been too sad to take photos. Just like she'd been too sad to keep any of her father from when he was alive, even though Hazel had begged for them. Indigo had been lying to her? Her entire life?

These thoughts were tumbling through her head as she stared at the man who was the opposite of everything she'd imagined her father to be. He stepped forward and opened his arms, coming close enough so she could smell the alcohol sweating through his pores. “Ciao Caro,” he said. “Mia bella figlia!” She stepped backward out of his reach and he tumbled to the grass again. He lifted himself up briefly on one arm then lay back down and promptly started to snore.

Hazel looked down at her mother, still on the ground with her head in her arms. “How could you, Mother? How could you lie about this my entire life?”

Indigo didn’t lift her head from her arms, just shook it so hard that her grey curls spilled from her hasty ponytail. “You weren't supposed to find out. Ever. I was trying to protect you. I was trying to give you what you needed. I wasn't much of a mother and you've always wanted a father. I knew I couldn’t give you this one, so I made one up."

Hazel was trying to digest the unbelievable words that had spilled from her mother’s mouth when Indigo turned on Atillio. “And you! Who do you think you are telling other people to ask me about our family secrets?”

Atillio looked abashed. “I only told Dean. I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”

“Some mistake,” Indigo climbed to her feet angrily and stepped over the snoring Roberto. “It was a mistake that caused this! Stella told me you told Dean to ask me about it, and then I told Dean everything, then she told everyone I told Dean, which meant that Roberto figured Hazel knew already, which meant he figured it would be fine if he broke our agreement. Our legal agreement! He figured why should he stay away when the entire purpose was so that Hazel didn’t find out about him!”

"Is that why you wanted to go home, Mother?"

"Stella called me to tell me he was on his way and why. I wanted to leave before he got here."

Two pieces of information were spinning in Hazel’s brain, each vying for attention. First, her Dad knew he had a daughter? Her Dad knew she existed and yet had agreed to never see her again so he could get money? She wasn't sure she could process that, like, ever. But, it was the second piece of information that broke her heart into a million pieces.

She turned to him slowly. His eyes were pools of sadness. They killed her a little bit more. “You knew about him, Dean?”

“Hazel, I was going to…”

“You knew and you didn’t tell me? After all of the stuff I told you about my letters to him? I've been telling you what kind of man he was and yet you knew this man was my father?" She shook her head at him in disbelief. "What an idiot you’ve made of me.” She took a step backward toward the safety of her cozy kitchen. She needed these people out of her sight.

Dean stepped toward her but she put up her hands; the universal sign for stop. She didn't know him. She had thought she'd known the deepest depths of him. But she didn't know him at all.

“Hazel, wait! I didn’t know that man was your father.” He pointed to the snoring Roberto and made a wince of disgust. “I only knew your father was alive. That’s all I knew. And I only found that out on Thursday.  It was killing me to keep this from you and that's why I couldn't come and work on Fri. You needed to hear it from your mother.”

She chuckled through her tears. “That’s all, huh? That’s all you knew so that makes it okay you didn’t tell me. I know my mother means well, and so I sort of understand her warped logic. Although, we have a lot of talking to do." She looked over at Indigo who nodded vigorously. "But, I guess I don’t know you. I thought we had something special. I was in love with you. But you’re just a lying Hollywood hack. And I fell for it.”

Dean had been taking tiny tentative steps toward her upheld hands, but he stopped short. His face flushed deeply. He said one word, “Hazel,” and then spun and strode away from the garden, up the hill, and out of her life.

“He’s going back to California tomorrow,” Atillio said and turned to follow Dean.

Hazel dropped her hands and looked at the disgusting man lying snoring in the mud. That man wasn't her father. She would never have him in her life. She wanted nothing to do with him. It all made sense now, Indigo's constant need for cash in Jacksonville, the withdrawal from the bank here in Borgotaro. This man had given up his daughters for the sake of money. He'd signed an agreement to never see them again so he could keep getting that money. The worst part was, it had come right from Hazel's pockets.