I was so focused on shoving the jumpsuit into the gently boiling vat of water and fabric dye that I didn’t initially register my phone ringing. When I finally did and looked at who was calling me, I dropped the spoon I was using into the water with a splash. A dark, smokey blue-purple splash that would likely stain the white countertops.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I chanted, swiping at my phone while grabbing the hand towel by the sink and mopping up the mess. In a forced calm voice, I answered, “Hi, dad. Is everything okay?

My dad didn’t call me. We texted, weekly, because we really didn’t have much to share with each other. Or, in my case, I didn’t have much that I could share with him.

My dad chuckled, the soft sound nearly unfamiliar. Over the years, I hadn’t often heard my dad laugh. A wave a warmth trickled over me, slowly. Thankfully, it wasn’t any more colored water.

“Does something need to be wrong for me to call my daughter?”

I hesitated. “No? It’s just that…we don’t call.”

My father sighed, a long, measured breath. “I know. I feel like I’m to blame for that.”

“What? No!” I hurried to reassure him. “I mean, the phone works both ways.”

“But I’m your father, Callie. And I know that I’ve…distanced myself from you. That’s why I haven’t called. But that’s wrong of me, and I want to make things right.”

Again, I paused. Where was this coming from? It wasn’t like him to just dive head-first into saying what was on his mind. We both were more beat-around-the-bush conversationalists, at least with each other. I’d thought we had an understanding about it. The bad shit was there, but why bother wasting breath on it?

“There’s nothing that you need to make right,” I answered. I picked up the stained towel, noticing the faintest blush of color left on the countertop. Damn. I should have laid down a towel or plastic or something.

Deciding to do just that, I tossed the ruined hand towel in the sink and turned the heat down on the pot, covering it with a lid while I went in search of…something.

“I’m not sure that’s reassuring to me,” my father said. “But, anyways, I guess it doesn’t matter now. Because I’m going to fix it.”

“If that’s what you want,” I said distractedly. The movers that Andrew Farley hired had done…fine. Not much had been boxed up. Why bother, when it was just moving one unit away? Everything was left, neatly, in disorganized piles. There were blankets folded over stacks of books, my shower supplies carefully lined up next to Lucie’s cans of food. It made zero sense, and I hadn’t really had time to unpack. Well, reorganize everything. Between going to my new job, planting the cover-up story for why I disappeared from my old job, and feeding Alex lame excuses that weren’t going to hold up much longer, if at all, I was exhausted.

It wasn’t even the good kind of exhausted anymore. It was physically and mentally draining, and I needed a break. But even on my next weekend, I had things to do, people to see, lies to spread.

“It is,” came my father’s voice as I picked through my belongings, looking for something I wouldn’t mind getting ruined. I’d put him on speaker and set him on top of a piled of folded clothes.

“Okay,” I agreed, spotting another old towel that I’d used previously for hair-dying experiments. “Do you want to do weekly phone calls or something?”

“I wouldn’t say no to that, but I was thinking of something else.”

I waited for him to tell me, but he didn’t.

“Do you want me to guess?” I offered. I didn’t want to play twenty questions.

“No, Callie, I just don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

I froze, towel in one hand, the other outstretched to pick up my phone. After kicking my brain in gear again, I finished the motion and walked back out to the kitchen.

“Then tell me before I start getting wild ideas,” I recommended.

“I was offered a new job,” he finally said.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, happy for him. “How could I take that the wrong way?”

“Because I’ll be living in the same city as you.”

I set the phone down on the counter and frowned. I must have misheard him.

“What?” I asked, carefully spreading the towel out between the stove and sink so it wouldn’t catch on fire. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d accidentally set something ablaze.

“I’ll be a handful of minutes away from you, instead of a handful of hours.”

“But…you love that house.”

I wasn’t at all opposed to him moving here. Quite the opposite. I was glad I would get to see my only remaining family on a semi-regular basis instead of once or twice a year. Dad’s reason for never moving before was that he couldn’t give up that house. When he had finally bought it when I was around twelve, it had been like everything had fallen into place for him. Gone were the days where he was worried about rent, making ends meet, caring for me, all on his own without my mother around. At the time, he’d vowed that he would never leave that house. It was the big sign to the world that he’d done it. Made it in life. We weren’t well-off by any means, but he’d stayed loyal to the job that paid him enough to afford what we needed for the past dozen or so years.

“I know,” he agreed, “but the house isn’t everything.”

“You’re getting a significant raise, right? City living is not cheap like at home.”

“I’m aware, Callie. Don’t you worry about me. It’s a significant raise. While you’re the main reason I decided to take it, you’re not the only person I’m considering.”

“Did another company buy out yours? Are some of your coworkers coming, too?” That would be nice, for him to have some familiar, friendly faces in the city. I’d of course be more than happy to show him around, but I wasn’t interested in having a parent in my daily life again, no matter how much I loved him.

“No, we weren’t bought out or anything.”

“So, what happened?”

I could hear slight rustling, and I could see my dad getting comfortable on the small worn sofa in front of the fireplace. “Well, you know, I always keep an eye out for opportunities.”

“Uh-huh.” Nope. I hadn’t known that. I’d assumed my dad would die still employed with his current company, whatever its name was that I’d forgotten.

“Someone reached out from this company, said they liked my experience and asked if I’d be interested in interviewing for them? Told me about the pay, benefits, everything, and it was too good to say no to right away.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“When did this happen?”

“Oh, a few weeks ago, maybe a month? I don’t really remember. But I went through the interviews, and the HR lady was really nice, my new boss was really nice, and so after several interviews they offered me the job.”

“That great.”

I took the lid off the pot and peered inside. My spoon was somewhere at its watery depths, and I wasn’t about to give the pot another sacrifice. But the directions on the dye said let it boil for fifteen to twenty minutes, and looking at the clock…yep, time to get it out. Like five minutes ago.

While I turned off the heat and searched for pot holders, my dad kept talking. I half-listened as he described, in detail, how he had already started working remotely with his new team to see if it was a good fit, how that team was based here which he just found out about, and that he accepted the bonus to move out this way to be able to meet in-person with them daily.

“And, of course, the added bonus is I get to see my daughter more,” he finished.

“Definitely the best perk.”

Again, my father chuckled, and it made me smile.

“So, when are you moving? Do you have a place picked out yet? Do you want help finding a good area?”

“I’ve already done the legwork, Callie. I’ve got a few places in mind. But they’re going to put me up in a hotel for a couple of weeks so I can get everything checked out.”

“You’d be welcome to stay with me.” The words were out of my mouth without a second thought.

“You mean, stay with you at Leo’s? No offense, Callie, but I don’t think I want to share the same space as you and your boyfriend.”

I groaned, loudly. “Dad, he is not my boyfriend. And I have my own apartment now, anyways. Just moved, actually, this week.”

“Okay, sheesh, don’t be mad at me. I was just teasing.”

I wanted to grumble angrily about it, but held my tongue. There was no need to get into that now. I didn’t want to invite more questions right now anyways.

“Sorry. He just did something stupid and pissed me off. I’m pretty mad at him.”

There. Potholders. Next to the candles sitting under the coffee table.

“Well, then I’m mad at him too. Stupid jerk.”

“Thanks for your support.” I grabbed the potholders and stared at the pot. “When will you be in town?”

“In a few days. I need to wrap up a few things here with the real estate agent so that I can do everything else remotely.”

“You’ll let me know when you get here, right? Are you flying? Do you want me to meet you at the airport?”

“Yes, I’m flying. No, there’s no need. The company is sending a car to pick me up. But we’ll plan dinner that night?”

“Perfect! I hate to cut this conversation short, but I’m in the middle of an arts and crafts project and need to wrap it up. We’ll talk when you get in? Will you text me your flight info?”

“Yes, I will send it to you. Have fun with your project. Love you, Calliope.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”

I stared at the steaming pot before remembering I could just teleport the whole damn thing instead of carrying it.

Which was a good idea, in theory. But in actuality, I should have just tried to teleport the jumpsuit into the sink instead of the entire pot. Because when it landed in the sink with a solid thunk—which sent Lucie scrambling off the back of the couch—more water splashed up and out over the rim and onto the countertops and floor.

At least the floor was sealed, I discovered. But the counters around the sink would forever have the faintest hint of lilac.

At least it wasn’t beige.

----------------------------------------

It was so much better. The splashes of soft color, the muted blues and purples, looked a little muddy. It was a bad mix between watercolor and tie-dye, some harsh lines and nearly-bare patches. Considering what the jumpsuit had looked like to start with, I really couldn’t complain about the results. My haphazardly painted nails added to the chaos, making me a veritable eyesore.

It was perfect.

Andrew had done a double-take when I walked in with Leo, who was fuming mad at me. He hadn’t said a word to me since seeing me lock my apartment door behind me to leave. I doubted Leo actually cared about my changes to the jumpsuit, but was more concerned with what his father would say. I still stood by the argument that what I wore held no bearing on my abilities.

“I’m ready to get started!” I greeted cheerfully, mostly to be even more obnoxious. “What’s the plan for today? Do I get to throw Leo around a bit more?”

Andrew didn’t answer me, just looked me over again like I was trash that needed to be taken out.

“Also,” I continued, unbothered, “I was curious if we were ever going to work on that app I mentioned to you. You know, the one that was in the contract I signed?”

Surprisingly, Andrew nodded. “We’re working on a different prototype than the bio-screen. The screens take additional resources to develop, are more expensive, and require personnel to install them. As an alternative, we’re looking at something that people can wear, take off, upgrade with a newer model. We also have discussed marketing it for the entire population.”

I frowned. “But devices like that already exist,” I pointed out. “What makes yours better than everyone else’s?”

“They are rings that people wear. We’re looking into other options, such as pendants or bracelets or earrings, with different designs and personalization features to appeal to more individuals. It also has the app integration, and we are looking into expanding on that as well. We have not come to an agreement on what that might look like yet.

“We’re also hoping to work with insurance companies on it, for people with LaShoul’s or other illnesses, where keeping an eye on loved ones can save lives.”

Andrew seemed to be open and honest with me.

It made me suspicious of his motives.

True, I wasn’t often great at reading people, the recent incident with Leo abducting me being Exhibit A. But I did genuinely believe he was being honest with me about the what. It was the why that I couldn’t figure out.

There was certainly more thought, more thoroughness, than my original idea, meaning he was up to something that he wasn’t sharing with me. Was he looking to get more data from more people? Was it perhaps a simple ploy to bring in more money? Almost for sure, though that may just be a pleasant side-effect.

I filed his words away for future examination.

“I like bringing insurance companies in on it,” I answered honestly. “I hadn’t considered that. But it is difficult for people with LaShoul’s to hold down a job, especially later on when they’re likely the target audience, meaning insurance changes could make that difficult.”

Andrew raised one eyebrow. “I’ll take that under advisement. Perhaps marketing the device as a way to help lessen, or even prevent, LaShoul’s attacks will make insurance companies more eager to approve them quickly.”

I shrugged. “If you say so.”

Leo and I waited while Andrew made a note on his tablet. His eyes met mine and flicked down to my outfit. Now that dear old dad hadn’t reprimanded him for what was clearly my own stylistic choice he could stand to look at me. I pursed my lips and raised a challenging eyebrow at him. He shook his head ever so slightly and stepped towards me.

I took a step back.

Leo stopped, ducking his head and pulling out his own tablet.

To a degree, I could stand Leo’s presence. Like last night at dinner, in public. Even the hallway of our shared apartment building, where I knew cameras were hidden.

But here, when I was the only person in the room at a disadvantage?

It was confusing as fuck to me, too, and I didn’t try to pretend to understand why I reacted the way I did in some situations. Maybe I needed to reach back out to my therapist again. It had been a year since I had last talked to her. Or was it closer to two now? I couldn’t remember, not that it truly mattered.

While Daddy and son were playing on their own devices, though I suspected Leo was using his as a cover, I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and pulled up my email. Quickly, and succinctly, I sent my therapist a message asking for a session. Hopefully she was still practicing.

Somehow I finished before Andrew did. And when the boredom took hold and I started wandering around, I noticed something different.

There was…exercise equipment in the room.

I pointed at it, as though I could accuse it of not being here yesterday. Which I could, because it hadn’t. It just didn’t have the answers I wanted.

“Ah, yes,” Andrew’s voice came from behind me. I didn’t bother to turn. “We’ve gathered enough preliminary data to get started with the real work.”

“To get started? We’ve just been…doing what, exactly, this whole week?”

Leo stepped into my line of sight. In my periphery, I saw him glance back at Andrew, who must have nodded because Leo answered, “We’ve got a thorough understanding of where you’re at and your current ability to grow and increase your overall ability. But to do so in the most efficient way, it’s not only your ability that needs trained. It’s all of you.”

It clicked. He’d told me, briefly, last night at dinner.

“You’re…going to make me work out?” I asked dubiously.

“Not today. But later, yes. It will become part of your regular routine.” Leo said that like it should be exciting. It was not.

“Today,” Andrew elaborated, “we’re going to test your physical fitness. We’ll use these machines to find your limits. After, we’ll set up a regiment for you to follow daily. If your physical health is lacking, it could impede your ability. This will rectify that. After today, we will also set up a meal plan for you based on your weaknesses. We can discuss you and Leo sharing the same chef, if it suits you.”

What I would eat was the least of my worries right now.

“Let me guess, you’re going to make me do this until failure?”

“Yes. Until your body fails. Otherwise we will not have an accurate starting point.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

I should have dyed my suit a bright orange, like a prison jumpsuit. Because that’s what today was going to feel like.