Page 59

I t’s been years since everything happened: Angie, the affair, my rebirth, the pandemic. The world has twisted into an unrecognizable thing, even when compared to my previous life. Some days I wondered if we, those of us who'd been reborn, had anything to do with that.

Charlie and I would discuss that at length, when it was just the two of us sipping whiskey on the back deck late into the night, certain we were the only ones awake. We hadn't met any others like us, but we both assumed they had to be out there… for good or for ill.

Over the past decade, society worldwide had slowly begun to segregate into two factions: the vaccinated versus the unvaccinated.

We watched as businesses began to deny entry to the unvaxed, as countries made vaccines mandatory, and as more and more basic human rights were stripped from the unvaccinated.

In the USA, we'd been given the right to choose for ourselves. But even then, it felt like a hollow choice, as pressure was being applied to join the vaxed. As a family, we had chosen to vaccinate. The pros seemed to outweigh the cons, and the virus showed no signs of slowing down.

Going to get the vaccine was a surreal experience. The lines stretched for dozens of blocks outside of the stadium, where people huddled together against stark white tents that littered the football field.

Nurses with N95 masks called out names and led us to the Darken Pharmaceutical Representative, who read us the potential risks. We accepted with trepidation, reminding ourselves how swiftly the virus took Sloane's parents away from us, and told ourselves we were never looking back.

As the years progressed, things became more stable, but it was clear that there was a line between the two ideologies.

The corporations in charge tried to appease both sides.

I kept a watchful eye on Angie's father's businesses, all of which seemed to be profiting off of the misery from the changing times, and I ensured Master Builders Inc. stayed far away from his companies.

Despite all that depressing shitstorm raging in the background, today was a joyous day for me; I was helping Violet pack for her first day of college.

Boxes littered our driveway as I shoved them into our company truck, reminding myself that she could visit home given the school was only an hour away.

She'll do fine. She's a big girl.

Violet had received several acceptance letters before she decided on this university: a school chosen for its vaccination requirement and its scholarship sponsorships for students who had impeccable academic backgrounds.

Students like her. She had excelled in all of her classes growing up, often causing me to joke with Sloane whether I was really her father.

Thank fucking god she has her mother's brains .

At Sloane's suggestion, we helped Violet choose noncontemporary hobbies that not only interested her, but would help her stand out as an ideal candidate for a prestigious college: painting, sculpting, jiujitsu, fencing, equestrianism, archery. She managed to snag a full ride with dorms included.

That morning, Violet seemed subdued as she greeted me with dark circles under her red rimmed eyes. I assumed it was homesickness kicking in already, and imagined she didn't get much sleep last night; the last night before going off to college.

I didn't pry. I knew my baby girl would talk to me when and if she needed to.

She was quiet on the hour drive up, staring out the window, lost in thought. I tried a few conversation starters, light ones about campus life, her classes, the weather… but she responded absently, and eventually we drove in silence.

Once we arrived though, I caught a spark in her eyes as we found her dorm building and checked her in. The campus buzzed with parents and students, a swarm of goodbyes and last-minute hugs.

Somehow, I managed to haul an extra table up three flights of stairs for her, a “non-negotiable,” she said for her art. My back protested with every step, years of construction and farm work catching up with me, but I didn’t let her see that.

Sloane's joke about all delts kicked in as I laid the table down in the exact spot she wanted.

Inside her room, she walked around slowly, running her fingers across the mattress, greeting her roommate with a quiet, “Hey.”

I introduced myself to the girl’s mom and we laughed together about the chaos of college move-in day, the absurdity, the emotions, and the full car trunks .

That afternoon, Violet and I went to a small Italian restaurant near campus that prided itself on being Celiac safe, which was a shock given how hard it was to find safe foods for her. We squeezed into a secluded corner booth, and it felt as if we had the whole place to ourselves.

She sat across from me, and I could tell something was on her mind. There was a darkness behind her eyes that was more than nerves. She looked… haunted. After we received our drinks and food, I decided it was time to pry.

“Honey,” I said gently, “do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

"Just thinking about how different the next few years are going to be." She paused, then asked, “The pandemic… that was a scary time, wasn’t it?”

The question caught me off guard. “What? Oh, yeah. It was pretty horrific.”

Especially all the shit I was trying to fix or stop from happening to us.

She took a sip of her tea. "You and Mom were going through a lot, even before the virus hit."

"That's a hell of an understatement," I said with a laugh, painfully aware of how much of a major fuck-up I must look like to her now.

"I remember how distant and distracted and… cold you used to be."

Oh Violet…

I thought of a hundred different ways to apologize for the Old Me that hadn't been there for her, that didn't cherish her. I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything she spoke.

"You changed so rapidly. Like… like somebody flipped a switch."

"I'm sorry, Vio-"

"No," she interrupted me, "Daddy, no. I'm not saying any of this to make you feel bad. I'm glad you changed. "

"So am I." Decades of shame and regret still plagued me occasionally, and this was one of the moments as I stared at her.

She had her mothers face, sharp nose and gorgeous hazel eyes. Her auburn hair was braided just the way Sloane used to do it. Despite starting college, she was still my baby girl.

She was chewing on what she wanted to say next more than on her food. Eventually, she said, “You were a really cool dad back then, you know? Playing games with me online.”

I took a sip of my water, trying to mask the tension rising in my chest. Back then, I wasn’t only playing games with her. I was hunting a monster.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, well… you were really into that game, Robot Blocks , and I wanted to spend time with you. I still remember those castles and bases we built," I said with a chuckle.

She didn't laugh. "Well, once we started doing all my other extra activities, it was hard to keep going." She gave me an analytical gaze and looked so much like her mother in that moment. "But it was more than that. You were watching out for me."

"Well… yeah. I mean, the internet was a scary place back then. You could never know who was out there. It used to be like the wild west.”

Violet nodded, slowly. “Yeah. I mean, a child predator could totally convince someone to meet them at, like, an abandoned warehouse.”

What?

A flashback of the warehouse struck me then, metal bones strutting from the ground. For a moment, I thought I was having a heart attack, the pain in my chest was so intense. “Baby girl? Is there something you want to tell me?”

“You used my account,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “You pretended to be me. You met someone back then. ”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. If I denied it, I was lying to her. If I admitted it, I was burdening her with a darkness she didn't deserve. How much did she already know and how did she know it?

She looked at me, calm, watchful, reserved. “Those investments you made… they weren't simply luck were they, Daddy?”

She can't be…

Horrified and stunned, I shook my head. “Violet-"

“Thank you.” She said it with tears brimming in her eyes. “Thank you for finding me, Daddy.”

Oh fuck, she's like Charlie and me. No please god, why?

I moved to her side and wrapped my arms around her as she broke down, heaving these deep, soul-wracking sobs that soaked through my shirt. I held her and kissed the top of her head as I cried with her, and whispered the only truth that mattered over and over into her hair.

"I love you. You're safe now."

Fuck, I couldn't save her.

The grim realization of just how little I could control hit me then. I had done everything I could to protect her in this life, and despite it all, she had somehow come back with those memories. A life of pain and sorrow that I knew I could never empathize with, much less understand.

Fuck you gods. Fuck your twisted god damn games.

I tried to wrap my mind around the horrors she would have seen, the unspeakable nightmare her life must have been after she'd been kidnapped…

but I couldn't. I literally lacked the capacity to comprehend a life that would have been as dehumanizing and terrifying as what my baby girl would have experienced .

We sat like that, us crying and me soothing her, for hours. The staff checked in once, then gave us space and privacy as she shattered into a million jagged pieces.

"I love you," I whispered. "I'm here for whatever you need. In this life, you are safe."

At some point, I realized I wasn't only saying it to her; I was saying it for myself, to reinforce that she really was here and whole. I whispered that mantra until I'd become hoarse and her sobs quieted to whimpers.

Eventually, she sat up. We sipped water and blew our noses. I looked at her and saw that she'd cried so hard she'd burst blood vessels around her eyes.

"Oh god." I reached out and tenderly touched her temples. "Your eyes are fucked."