And that was it.
I was back to having an imaginary father.
I’d barely had time to adjust to the gain before he was once again lost to me.
Fox was so angry at himself, I couldn’t be angry at him too.
I listened as he went on about Jenny checking the surrounding streets’ CCTV.
Fifteen minutes ago, a black van had arrived at the back of the bookshop. Right by the café’s fire exit. She couldn’t get a visual on the driver, and the number plate was half-obscured by mud.
“This is it, Haze! I can’t carry on like this. I’m never going to let you down again. I promise!”
I looked at him. Was this the breakthrough I’d been waiting for?
“Don’t blame yourself. There’s only one person to blame.” I pulled out my phone.
Making up a fake dad? You sick fuck! If you want to take me, come get me. Let’s end this!!
The reply was instant.
You should be more careful.
You’re giving me advice? Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t wait to kill you.
Patience is a virtue.
I threw my phone down.
My hands were now shaking. I let it all hit me. The anticipation, the slight adrenaline kick, the nerves. Everything that had been stirred up at the thought I was going to come face-to-face with the man whose genes I shared.
I was angry.
So fucking angry.
But what else?
Disappointed?
No.
I’d left the house thinking I was going to meet my father, but it was all a mind game from The Chameleon.
I should be feeling crushed. Robbed. I was back to “father unknown.”
But right now, I was safe. Driving home with my husband, back to the house we lived in with our children. My real family.
From everything Fox had told me about “Mike,” I had felt no connection, no understanding of the man he was. I wouldn’t have to sit through strained chitchat with a man whose life sounded so vanilla I felt zero affinity to him. I wouldn’t have to sit there trying to understand how I could’ve been fathered by such a steady, balanced man.
And I’d been worrying about what he was going to think ofme.I’d been worrying what this made-up, AI-generated fake dad was going to think ofme.Ridiculous.
I laughed and shook my head.
Fox looked at me, his brow furrowed. He thought I’d lost it. That I’d gone mad.
“Of course my father wasn’t some angelic man living in a converted lighthouse! I mean, come on! How did we ever believe that?”
Fox reached over and squeezed my hand.
