Miranda Garcia, born July 29, 1990, at a maternity hospital in Queens, New York. She graduated at twenty-two from Chris Medical College and was assigned to the Brooklyn Hospital Forensic Testing Department (Forensic Pathology) after graduation.
Her father, Roston Garcia, was the head of the power division at Helios Tech Co., Ltd.. Ten years ago, due to an affair, he divorced Miranda's mother.
Her mother, Lorie Davis, raised Miranda alone after the divorce.
Lorie was an exceptionally resilient and capable woman. With no external support, she rose from being a full-time housewife to building a mid-sized company within ten years. Compared to industrial giants like Stark Industries, her company was small—but Lorie Davis was still widely regarded as a successful and admirable businesswoman.
"I remember Lorie Davis," Pepper said, studying the data on the screen. "Her company, Weiss Corporation, is currently competing with several others for one of our energy projects. Compared to the rest, Weiss is at a disadvantage."
Ever perceptive, Pepper immediately recognized the woman on the display. She had a favorable impression of Lorie's strength and integrity.
"Then give the project to her company," Tony said casually, waving his hand as if deciding what to have for lunch.
"I'll arrange it," Pepper replied calmly.
Unlike Tony's offhand decision-making, Pepper considered things far more carefully. Weiss Corporation was still young and lacked a solid foundation—but what Pepper valued was its future potential. Otherwise, she wouldn't have agreed so readily. After all, the nickname 'Pepper Potts'—or rather, 'Pepper the Knife'—wasn't earned for nothing.
"Sir, there appears to be no direct connection between them," JARVIS reported.
A three-dimensional projection of their social networks appeared in the air. From every available angle, Clara and Miranda had no overlapping connections. Aside from their encounter at Brooklyn Hospital two days ago, it was likely their first meeting.
"JARVIS," Tony said, pointing at a surveillance clip pulled from the hospital system, "activate lip-reading. Let's hear what they were saying."
"Yes, sir."
If he's not my biological father, I won't disturb his life… I won't destroy someone else's family… I'm not a beggar—I won't accept charity…
Through JARVIS's lip-reading translation, every word Clara spoke struck Tony like a hammer.
"That doesn't sound like something a 13 year-old would say," Pepper murmured. "What has Clara been through…?"
Pepper was stunned by Clara's emotional maturity and felt an unexpected warmth—and pity—toward the girl she had never met.
Tony said nothing.
The smile on his face was strained.
—
That night, Tony lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. His mind replayed a past he had sealed away for years, like an old film running endlessly.
Suddenly, he remembered something he had once said to Laura—
"If I ever have a daughter, I'll name her Clara. My dad insisted on it. Weird request, right?"
Tony sat bolt upright.
The sudden movement startled Pepper awake.
"What are you doing, Tony?" she mumbled.
"I just realized I haven't protected the world in a while," Tony said lightly. "Without me, those idiots might start getting bold again."
"Be careful," Pepper murmured sleepily, turning over. "Come back early."
Tony slipped quietly out of bed and headed to the basement.
Moments later, clad in his Iron Man armor, he soared out of New York City.
Many nights since becoming Iron Man, Tony patrolled the skies over New York—both to reassure civilians and to intimidate criminals lurking in the shadows.
"Sir," JARVIS said during flight, "Rottweiler Street is close to our current location. Would you like to check it out?"
"JARVIS, I never said I wanted to go to Rottweiler Street."
"My apologies, sir. In the absence of an active alert, your flight path is randomized."
"…Well," Tony sighed, "since we're already passing by, let's take a look."
On the way there, Tony found himself oddly conflicted.
What if Clara runs up and calls me 'Dad'?
What am I supposed to do then?
Reality proved he was overthinking it.
Clara's impoverished home had nothing to entertain her, so she went to bed early every night—and woke up extremely early in the morning to buy cheap vegetables from the market.
"JARVIS, deploy a micro-scout drone."
Through the window, only dim yellow light was visible. Tony sent a small drone sliding in through the crack beneath the door.
The room was painfully small—so cramped that even through the drone's camera, Tony felt stifled.
When the drone turned toward the wall plastered with Iron Man posters and newspaper clippings, Tony felt as though his chest had been struck by a heavy blow.
He hadn't been unmoved by that pure, beautiful girl back then.
He had simply been too young. Too irresponsible.
"Hey! Iron Man!"
A man in his early thirties holding a flashlight stared at Tony in amazement. He took an eager step forward, clearly wanting to shake hands—then hesitated upon noticing the expensive Iron Man armor.
"Hi—hi, Mr. Stark! My name's Hans Morgan. I'm your fan—no, wait, I mean my three kids are your fans. They're triplets! For their birthday they all wanted Iron Man figures, but I could only afford one, so they're always fighting over it—uh, I mean, fighting over Iron Man, not you—well—"
Hans waved his hands excitedly, the flashlight beam sweeping across Tony's face so wildly that Tony could barely keep his eyes open.
"Hey—hey! Calm down, buddy! First thing—turn off the light!"
"Oh! Sorry! I got carried away."
When Hans switched off the flashlight, the alley fell into darkness. The cool glow of the arc reactor in Tony's chest shone far brighter than the dim yellow light spilling from the small window nearby.
"You're here to see Clara, right, Mr. Stark?" Hans asked.
"How did you know?" Tony felt as though a secret had just been exposed.
"Of course I know. Laura was close friends with my wife, Millie. She once told her that Clara's father was Tony Stark… Is it really you?" Hans leaned closer, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"It's not me," Tony replied calmly. "Her father just looks a lot like me."
"I knew it," Hans nodded. "Laura wasn't quite stable mentally. She often talked to herself. We thought she lived in her own world. After Laura died, Millie and I considered adopting Clara—but we already have three kids, and we just couldn't afford a fourth. Clara said someone would take responsibility for her life, which worried us. We didn't know how to tell her that Iron Man wasn't her father… Oh! Right—how did you find out about Clara?"
Hans paused only after unleashing a barrage of words.
"She sent me a letter," Tony said.
"She really did?" Hans exclaimed. "Mr. Stark, you have to understand—losing her mother so suddenly, a child like that would desperately want a father. If she asked for anything unreasonable—"
Hans hurriedly tried to explain, worried Clara's letter might have offended Tony.
"Listen," Tony interrupted gently. "I'm not angry. Clara didn't ask for anything excessive. Tomorrow, my assistant will come by and make proper arrangements for her. Understood?"
"You'll help her?" Hans's face lit up. "That's wonderful!"
He was genuinely happy for Clara.
"…Why does she sleep with the light on?" Tony asked quietly.
The drone's feed showed Clara curled tightly beneath thick blankets, only the top of her head visible—she looked impossibly small.
"After Laura died, she's been like that," Hans said softly. "I think she was traumatized. You know… people who die from overdoses don't look peaceful. That night, I heard her screaming in terror. I patrol this area every night—she's too young to live alone. It worries us."
—
Back at New York City, Tony climbed into bed as quietly as possible, afraid of waking Pepper. After lying down, he let out a soft sigh.
Pepper, who had been pretending to sleep, turned over and wrapped her arms around him.
"I'll go tomorrow," she murmured. "Get some rest."
Tony froze for a moment—then relaxed, holding her close.
"Pepper," he whispered, "you really are the one who understands me best."
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