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‘I know you’ve been hunting around for them,’ Dad says. ‘I know you’ve been trying to track them down.’
I won’t ask him how he knows this.
‘I’ll give you contacts for them.’ Dad looks at the sheets on my bed. ‘Once I go into hospital, you can get in touch with them –’
‘I want to get in touch with them now.’
‘Harris.’ Dad meets my eyes. This isn’t something we’ve ever discussed before. I might be okay with sticking up for myself, but I’ve never been brave enough to broach this topic.
Dad shifts his stance, and I flinch.
‘Come home, son,’ Dad says softly.
I hold his gaze for a long time before I nod.
