CRYPTID

Chapter 17

Her dad wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He could tell she was spiralling. "It will be fine. You've done this plenty of times before, haven't you?"

"Not like this," Penelope mumbled, but welcomed her dad's half-hug, leaning into the comfort of him. She had interviewed witnesses before, but never on her own, and never live.

"You'll figure it out," her dad said. "Besides, Liam's here to help you out." He turned back to the kitchen, where Liam was still leaning against the counter.

"Nah," Liam said, smirking. "I just came over for the cold waffles."

Her dad chuckled. "It looks like you two have it covered. Beth and Lyla invited me over to play cards, so I'll be out of the way."

"You don't have to leave," Penelope said. She just felt bad. It would be easier without him in the cabin, but she didn't want to kick him out of his own place.

"Sure I do," her dad said, giving her a squeeze and a shake. "You don't need me clunking around the place while you were trying to film."

Penelope tried to think of some objection, but she couldn't—anything she could've said would've been a lie. Even if he was trying his hardest not to, being quiet was not her dad's strength, and the both of them knew it.

"Thanks, dad," she said at last with a reluctant sigh.

"You don't have to thank me," her dad said giving her a quick peck on the top of her head before going to shove his feet into his old boots that were sitting by the door. "Going to drink beer and play cards is hardly a great burden. And if you really need me, well, I'll be just across the way."

Penelope gave him a small smile as she watched him slip out of the door with a quick wave to them both.

As the door shut behind her dad, Liam dusted the last of his waffle crumbs off his hands. "That was my idea," he announced with a lopsided grin, his mouth still half-full. "I told my mom and she was happy to have him over. I figured you'd need an excuse to get him out of the way."

"Not really," Penelope said. Her dad wasn't clueless; by now, he knew the need for quiet while filming and he was good about disappearing when she needed. But she was glad he had something to do, otherwise, he might've just banished himself to the truck to keep out of the way. "But thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," Liam said, his mouth pushing into a line at the lack of praise. "I guess."

Penelope sighed. "Sorry. I am thankful. That was nice of you. I'm just... nervous." Saying it aloud only made it more palpable, like saying the name of the thing had brought the thing to life. It twisted around her chest, constricting her breath. Doing her best to shake it off, she returned to furiously pushing the couch around the room. Suddenly she wasn't so sure about having it right up against the window...

"Do you need help?" Liam said, stepping forward. "Or do you intend to fully redecorate this place all by yourself? If you're thinking of painting, I don't think it'll have enough time to dry before my uncle comes."

"Quiet," Penelope said with a huff, stopping to lean against the couch arm. "I just want everything to be just right. You don't get second chances when you're live."

"You don't have to do it live," Liam said. "Why not just film and edit like normal?"

"For starters, I already announced on Twitter that it'd be live," Penelope said with a gulp of air. "And, also, because no one will believe me—or Henry—if it's all slick and perfectly cut. It has to be live."

"Okay, okay, we'll do it live," Liam said, holding his hands up in surrender. "But if you keep at it like this you're going to fizzle out in a blaze of sugar-high glory before my uncle even gets here. Let me help."