This was be the rest of his life; Running away over and over again with a new name every month. Arthur could never fall in love, get married, or try to be a normal guy. His career had left a permanent target on his head. The years had made him bitterer than before.

Another country, another hotel room. This was his life now; being alone and hiding.

He suddenly heard a knocking at the door. Arthur suspected right away that whoever it was was not a friend of his. He stood quiet like a statue. They would go away in a minute. After all, anybody hunting for him wouldn't politely knock.

The knocking persisted. A teenage voice called out, "Hey, is Arthur here?"

How the hell did a teenager know his real name? By instinct, he believed she was being used to lure him out in the hall. How else would a teenager know his name and what hotel he was staying at?

Arthur loaded his handgun, placed it in his back pocket, then silently walked over to the door. The peephole showed him a tall teenage girl. This was a bad idea, he thought. Even a teenager couldn't be trusted.

Then the girl spoke up again.

"If you're there, pleaseā€¦" Her voice was yearning. "I know Dom Cobb."

Arthur hadn't heard that name for at least fifteen years. It was around twenty years ago that team did the inception and made their separate ways. Arthur hadn't heard from his since he returned to his kids.

When he opened the door, he could see the teenager in all her grudgy glory. It didn't come to his attention right away that they shared the same narrow eyes or the dark brown hair. She stood there in a pair of those skinny jeans Arthur never liked, with what looked like a sports jersey and a pair of Vans. Arthur got the impression she was one of those teens that got in trouble at school often and had a problem obeying her parents. From the jersey and her stature, she looked like an athlete.

"How do you know Dom Cobb?"

He was about to tell her that she needed to leave. But then his face changed from hostile to near awe. It was as if his coldness was unplugged. The jacket the girl was wearing looked so familiar to him. Where did he see it before?

It was her jacket. The one she was wearing the day they met.

"That jacket, where did you get it?"

The girl looked down, tugging at one of the sleeves. "It was my moms." She explained, showing a hint of pride.

Ariadne had a child.

Ariadne had a child, and somehow that child was able to find him. But how? Why would she go so far to search for him by herself? He hadn't heard his heart thump the way it just had in years. She could see what he was thinking.

"My name is Alice." she told him. "I'm your daughter."