She dabbed her eyes with his handkerchief. “Am I?”
“Not precisely.”
“My father might be dying, and I must lie to my family?”
“I am afraid so, Petty Officer Wren Wilson.”
She didn’t miss the fact that he used her rank this time. He was officially serious. There was no way she could leave the camp.
“Again, I am terribly sorry.” He gestured to the door. “Please see yourself out.”
In a daze, Dot stood, clutching his desk for support, then she left his office on shaky legs. She craved her bed, where she could be alone to cry, but it was time for her shift. Mute, she took up her post by Hydra and put on the headphones, still warm from Thomas’s previous shift. She sat and closed her eyes, waiting for the secret sounds of war to travel through the air, but her mind refused to settle. Instead, it gathered her up and carried her home to her family’s arms. Home to her father’s bedside, where he would be holding Dash’s hand but not hers. Dash never would have let Dot suffer alone with him, but Dot was doing exactly that, leaving all the pain to Dash, her mother, and her poor father. She was letting down everyone she loved.
What would Dash do in this situation? If she was forbidden to leave and confined to the oath, would she find a way around it?
From the corner of her eye, she was aware of the door opening and a man stepping into the room. Moments later, she felt a touch on her arm. She looked up into the compassionate gaze of Bill Hardcastle, the original genius behind the creation of Hydra, and Dot’s teacher. Ever since her arrival at Camp X, he had quietly and expertly taught her the secrets of Hydra, and she’d come to understand that he was the kind of man who preferred to speak with radios over people.
Bill calmly informed her that she was dismissed from Hydra for now. He suggested she take some time to sort out her thoughts—whileremaining on the base—then return to her post the following morning. Dot left without a word and returned to the main building. Somehow, she kept her emotions under control until someone bid her a cheery good day, then she shattered. With her hand over her mouth, she quick-walked down the corridor, looking straight ahead as tears rolled down her face. At the end of the hall, she turned into a seldom-used office and collapsed onto a chair.
How was she supposed to tell her family that she couldn’t come? That she was sworn to secrecy, even from them? Dash would hate her for it, and Dot couldn’t blame her. If her father’s illness was as bad as she feared, Dot might never see him again. Was he asking for her right now? Waiting for her? Brief, panicked thoughts of fleeing the camp flashed through her mind, but that was impossible. Running from Camp X would be considered as bad as treason.
“Miss? I’m sorry to intrude, but are you all right?”
The voice was familiar. Dot jerked upright, wiping her face, then her jaw dropped.
“Gus?”
thirty-fourDASH— Oshawa, Ontario —
The house was very still when Dash barged in on a gust of wind, and the silence frightened her. She stopped short.
“Mom?” she called softly.
“I’m in here.” Her mother’s voice came from the second floor, so Dash tiptoed upstairs.
Her father was sleeping, his mouth slack against the pillow, his breathing shallow. Her mother sat on a chair at his side, knitting calmly, just as Dash remembered her doing all her life. But she didn’t look the same. Dash read the exhaustion on her face. And the resignation in her eyes.
“I’m so glad to see you.”
Dash knelt at her side. “What’s happened?”
She set aside her knitting then laid her cool hands on Dash’s. “It’s a tumour, Margaret. In his brain. There’s nothing to be done.”
Dash couldn’t move. “No. There has to be something they can do. An operation? Some kind of medicine?”
“I…” Her eyes closed briefly. “Your father has been sick for many years, Margaret. We both knew about it, and though the doctors tried every avenue, we have known the truth all along. The tumour is simply too big.”
“His headaches? All this time?”
It had been right there in front of her all along. Those days when he couldn’t bear the light, when he couldn’t move from his chair. She had thought nothing of it. Just a headache, he’d said. Probably just something in my head, he’d joked. No wonder he was always so pale.
“But why didn’t we—”
“He didn’t want anyone to know. He kept it secret for everyone’s sake. He is so proud of you both and everything you are accomplishing. He didn’t want to get in the way of that.”
Dash faced the slight figure on the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “What now?”
“All they can do is give him pain relief. It helps him sleep.” Her fingers skimmed her husband’s pale brow. “He sleeps most of the time now.”
