42.
LEONARDO VILLAR
At ten, Manuela asks whether she can change her surname.
Her legal name is still Manuela Sampaio.
After paternity recognition, we decided to wait.
She never asked.
Until now.
“I want to add Villar,” she announces over dinner.
My hand stops.
Olívia looks at her.
“Why?”
“Because it’s mine too.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You do not need it to prove you are your father’s daughter.”
“I know.”
“And Sampaio stays.”
“I want both.”
I look at Olívia.
She is emotional.
“Manuela Sampaio Villar,” I say.
My daughter smiles.
“That’s long.”
“You can sign Manuela S. Villar.”
“I don’t want to hide Sampaio.”
“Then strengthen your hand.”
Laura, three, lifts hers.
“I’m Villar.”
“You’re Sampaio Villar,” Manuela corrects.
“I’m Laura.”
“That too.”
The legal process is straightforward.
The small ceremony we hold afterward is Manuela’s idea.
Not legal.
Symbolic.
She wants to receive Villar from me and reaffirm Sampaio from Olívia.
In the garden, she brings two ribbons.
One printed with SAMPAIO.
One with VILLAR.
She ties both around her wrist.
“Now I have both.”
I cannot speak.
Olívia takes my hand.
“Allergies?” Manuela asks.
“Still.”
She hugs me.
The girl who once called me Mr. Angry now carries my name because she chose it.
Not because of a will.
Not because of shares.
Because of a bond.
That night, I open the safe where I keep important documents.
Her new birth certificate goes beside the first drawing.
The one where I stood far away.
My long arm almost reached them.
Now there is no distance.