FATHER ALWAYS SMILING

Chapter 43 ~~~~~

I should have felt happy that I told someone, but that feeling of worry overtook me, what if the detective didn't believe me? What if he'd brush it away like that of Detective Song?

It was four years ago, things could have changed, but... I couldn't trust her.

I felt my father's hand touch my forehead, before doing it again with the back of his hand. "You're a bit warm, Amalie are you well?"

I didn't say anything, I didn't feel good.

"Amalie?" he took my plate and placed it on the table with his before his hands touched my cheeks, as some of his fingers rested along my neck feeling the beating of my heart in my throat. "Can you open your mouth?"

I did as he looked with a worried gaze before picking me up and taking me to the car. Next thing I knew I was in the hospital that Elain was at, being examined by a doctor.

"Looks to me like it's a fever brought on by stress." Says a doctor after looking me over. "Any idea what could have caused it?"

My Dad had a hand over his mouth as he spoke to the doctor. "She's been through a lot these past few weeks."

"Then I'd prescribe some Tylenol or Iveprohen and a stress-free weekend with cartoons and fun times with your Dad." She said to me with a smile before handing my Dad candy. "That's for her for when she's better, as long as she's not allergic to anything."

He smiled a bit. "Not at all, I'm sure she'll enjoy it." He said before taking it from the woman, then he picked me up to go home. "Thank you, doctor,"

My Dad walked slowly as he carried me, rubbing my back as he did so but stopped when someone we knew called out.

"Mr. ?" Elain's Mom was in the hall, looking at me and Dad. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Amalie?"

"Thankfully not for long." He says with a faint smile. "She'll be alright after some medicine. Too much stress, as the doctor put it. I was worried since it's rare for her to become sick but it seems I overreacted a bit. It wasn't something truly awful. How's Elain?"

"Resting," she looked worried as she looked at me. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not at the moment, but thank you, Mrs. Ortiz."

After saying goodbye my Dad picked up his speed to get back to the car and then head home. When we returned home, he gave me medicine with a warm drink before helping me dress into pyjamas and had me sleep with him. But I began to feel worse and ran to the bathroom where I threw up what was in my stomach.

"Amalie," my father was quickly behind me keeping my hair out of my face as I continued to throw up. "It's okay Sweetie, just let it all out."

When I couldn't throw up any more tears began to fill my eyes as my breathing hitched.

"Please..." I managed. "Please don't be mad at me..."

"Oh, Amalie." He went to his knees as his hands went to my face after wiping it with a towel. "Why would you think I'd be mad at you?"

"Because of what I did... because I didn't tell you... what happened or what I... thought."

"Dear," he pulled me into his arms as I cried. "I could never be mad at you for such a thing. You should know that."

I shook my head not believing it. "But I... I lied..."

"No, Sweetheart, you didn't lie. You only did what you thought was right."

"I... I... I should have... I should have told you. But I... I was scared!"

"Of me?"

I quickly shook my head again. "No... of Nick... he was scary... really scary..." my hands shook as I gripped his shirt tightly as a feeling of fear overcame me. "I thought... of what he wanted to do... how he'd kill me, and I pictured it... I saw myself... dead. I never thought I'd see that so clearly from my imagination... seeing that... made me think it'd become real..."