Alive

Chapter 24

Elle

(Thursday, May 16)

Kirk Tener.

I've been lying on my back, scrolling through search results for hours, now. It was promising at first, finding his doctor profile with a picture attached. It's definitely him. But aside from his credentials, which are impressive, there's nothing. No location, no reviews. That's the part that stands out. Because all the other doctors listed on the site have at least one. But him? Just...credentials. Date of birth. A picture of him smiling. I think. He's trying, at least. And it's just like I remember. Dark hair, though it's tidier now. Glinting narrow eyes. Sharp nose. He's young to have so much experience, but I'm not surprised. Looking back, I guess you'd call him a prodigy. Except, usually that's a positive thing. With Kirk, I'm not so sure.

There's nothing else. Pages of results, filled with social media links to ordinary people with the same name. But nothing else about him. Which is even more suspicious. So I end up back where I began, staring at that photo, realizing his birthday is coming up in a few weeks. I've got no major lead, but I can't stop thinking about it, so I pass a couple minutes amused at the image of him in a party hat. Someone placing a cake in front of him. Maybe I should bring him one, sit him down, have a talk with him.

Except, of course, I don't know where to find him. But Oliver does, right? Oliver met him. Oliver... I drop my phone, opting to stare at the ceiling. He says he'll be back tonight, but I'm not really counting on it. It could be days again, for all I know. Maybe I'm just being pessimistic. He could walk through the door at any second. And honestly, do I even want that? I want to make sure he's okay. I want the full story. But after that...I've still got the cash in my wallet. Nothing's really changed.

I think.

But then there's a knock, and I'm at the door so fast it's embarrassing. But maybe it shouldn't be embarrassing. I'm worried. Worried as hell about Oliver, and I need to talk to him about this. I need to see him.

I don't see him, though. My heart clenches as I swing the door open because there's my dad. And I'm nowhere close to prepared for this. He's even thinner than I remembered, and a baggy sweater with large khaki pants don't help.

"Ellenor," he says, all out of breath, like he ran the entire way here. Not like the truth is any less impressive. He must have flown out just for this.

"Dad," I say, glancing behind me as I inch the door forward, narrow the entrance. "What are you doing here?"

"I tried to call," he says, pressing his hand flat against the door. And I can feel it. The pressure matching my own as he tries to push it back open. "You didn't pick up."

"I've been busy," I say, wincing as I let him win the game. Hiding will only make things worse. "I'm sorry. Come in." He steps through, opening his arms to hug me, but I spin around, pretend I didn't notice it. "Want some coffee?" I ask, glancing back to make sure he takes his shoes off. I still check, even though I don't have to. I know where I got the habit.

He kneels down, arranging his loafers beside my sneakers. Even straightens mine a bit. Then he sets his brown suitcase beside it.

"Sure," he says, grunting as he pushes himself back up. Which catches me a bit. I guess his age is starting to show. I see a couple new wrinkles, now that I'm looking. So I stop looking. Pray Dad doesn't start snooping around. Thank my earlier self for tidying up before he got here. And I make coffee.

A latte for myself, two espresso shots for Dad. I wish I had some whiskey to add to it, right now. Take off the edge. God knows he could use it. I feel the tension mounting with every step he takes. I guess praying was useless because he's definitely snooping. I hear rustling. A zipper. I close my eyes, holding my breath as the creaks get closer.