I watch as my daughter walks down the stairs in her baby blue dress and silver glittering high heels. She looks dazzling, and, in many ways, she reminds me of her mother. She has goldish hair that she curls from time to time, and a model’s body. She is tall and has high cheekbones and green piercing eyes, just like her mother.

“Dad!” she yells as she notices me.

“What, Angel? I am ready,” I respond, standing up while brushing my crisp brown shirt and pushing my black hair back with a smile on my face.

“Dad, you are not wearing that to the Father-Daughter dance. Please,” she says, sighing.

“Why not? Angel, this suit cost me over three thousand rands,” I respond, laughing.

“In the 1960s maybe,” she says, giggling. “Please go put on that suit I picked out for you?” she asks, batting her eyelids.

“Fine,” I surrender.

“Thank you, and look at how beautiful I am, daddy,” she says, twirling for me.

“You are beautiful, sweetheart. I will go change then,” I respond, and then walk to my bedroom.

As I slip into the black and blue suit she had picked out for me, memories of Janine flood my mind. Mylah is starting to look like her even more now. She is going to turn sixteen in the next two weeks. Since she was born, I have never engaged with any other woman, and it has always just been her and me. But honestly, I like and prefer it that way.

“Daaaddy!”she screams, and I hear her impatient knock on my door.

“I am almost done, Princess,” I respond, fixing my tie and opening the door for her.

“Wow daddy, you look so stunning,” she says, smiling at me and giving me a hug.

“So? Do I not look like I came from a 1960s movie set anymore?” I ask, teasing her.

“Of course not!” she responds, laughing. “You look like a famous model.”

“Model? Me?” I ask, also laughing.

“Yes, but a model that is on retirement,” she responds.

We both burst into laughter. “Oh Princess, we better get going now,” I say, opening the door so we can leave.

“Why, thank you, sir,” she responds, kissing my cheek.

“Your carriage awaits, Madame,” I say, teasing her as I open the car for her.

She slides in. “Very well then, to my destination,” she responds, laughing. I also slide into the car, and we drive off, just my daughter and me.

Tell us: Do you think Mylah will turn into a monster like her mother?