The soft hum of machines filled the quiet hospital room, blending with the gentle tap of rain against the window. Valerie sat propped up on the bed, her silver hair tucked behind her ears. Her face, still pale from days of recovery, carried a fragile warmth as she looked at her father, who stood by the door, his coat half-on and his bag in hand.

“Are you leaving today, Dad? Can you stay a little longer?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with hope that she already knew was futile.

Her father paused, his shoulders slumping just slightly. “I have to, pumpkin. I wish I could stay longer but you know how it is... The factory’s shorthanded, and I was lucky they even let me take these days off.” He turned to look at her, his face etched with fatigue and regret.

Valerie forced a small smile, though her chest tightened. “I’m sorry, Dad. I made you worry too much. And… about the bills…” She looked away, guilt weighing her voice. “I promise to pay it back. All of it.”

The bag in her father’s hand dropped to the floor with a soft thud. He sighed, moving back toward her bedside. Without a word, he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his calloused hand on hers, the same hand that had worked years of double shifts to keep food on the table.

“Valerie.” His voice was steady, but there was sadness in his eyes. “I’m always worried about you. That’s what being a father means. It doesn’t matter if you’re eighteen or eighty—you’ll always be my little girl.”

She blinked quickly, trying to keep her tears at bay

“And about the bills… someone already paid them.”

Valerie turned sharply to him, surprise flickering across her face. “What? Who?”

Her father shrugged, a faint smile breaking through his exhaustion. “I don’t know. The hospital wouldn’t say, but whoever it was… I’m grateful. Don’t worry about that anymore, okay?” He squeezed her hand. “Even if I had paid, I wouldn’t let you pay me back. That’s not how this works.”

“But, Dad—”

He cut her off with a soft chuckle. “Once you get your license, then you can take care of me. Isn’t that what you always say?” His grin widened, though his voice softened again. “You don’t have to, pumpkin. But if that promise makes you happy, I’ll hold you to it.”

Valerie couldn’t hold back the smile that crept onto her face. She sat up slightly and opened her arms. Her father leaned down, pulling her into a warm, firm hug.

“Three more years, Dad,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“I’ll be counting down the days,” he replied, his voice a low whisper.

As they pulled apart, her father ran a hand through his graying hair and glanced at her curiously. “By the way, any idea who paid the bills? I asked the nurse, but she clammed up tighter than Fort Truga.”

Valerie frowned in thought, then a small realization struck. “I don’t know for sure, but… I’ve got this friend. She’s from a wealthy family. It’s probably her.”

Her father’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Fiona, right?”

Valerie nodded. “Yeah.”

“She’s such an angel,” her father said warmly. “I met her the day I came here. She always stayed by your side, barely leaving the room. She looked so worried about you.” He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. “But I haven’t seen her for the last two days. I wonder where she went…”

Valerie’s smile faltered just a little. “Oh. Well… things probably got too busy at the Uni. She’s always running around doing something.”

“Busy or not, that girl cares about you. You’re lucky to have someone like her.”

Valerie leaned back against the pillows, her heart strangely light despite the lingering ache in her body. A friend. The word settled in her chest, warm and unfamiliar.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m proud to call her my friend.”

Her father’s expression shifted, a shadow of worry crossing his face. “Val, listen,” he said gently. “Promise me something, okay? Next time, don’t push yourself too hard. You’re practically invincible, I know. But you’re not without weakness.”

Valerie raised an eyebrow. “My weakness? What are you talking about?”

He hesitated, the weight of years of secrecy evident in his posture. “Exhaustion, Val. You get so focused, so driven, that your body can’t keep up with your powers. This… this wasn’t the first time something like this happened.”

Valerie blinked, stunned. “What do you mean? When else did this happen?”

“When you were little,” he said quietly. “There were times when you’d push yourself too hard—sometimes even transform like you did at the Gala. And afterward, your body would just… shut down. You’d be helpless, no longer invincible, for days.”

Her breath hitched. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? Did Mom know?”

Her father sighed, his shoulders slumping. “We didn’t think it would ever happen again. You’ve grown so strong. I thought you’d outgrown it.” He paused, his voice growing even softer. “As for your mom… Val, what do you know about her? Did she ever tell you anything about herself?”

Valerie furrowed her brows, her mind spinning. “Mom was… Mom. She was loving and caring. Why? What are you trying to say?”

He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped hers. “She wanted to tell you herself, but… that incident...”

Tears welled in his eyes, his voice breaking as he continued. “I’ve carried this burden for so long, hoping the right time would come. Maybe that time is now. Maybe… maybe you deserve to know the truth.”

Valerie stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “Dad, what are you talking about? What truth?”

He looked up, his gaze distant, as though searching the heavens. “Honey,” he whispered, “Maybe it’s time. It’s time our daughter knows.”

A single tear slipped down his cheek as he returned his gaze to Valerie. His voice was heavy with emotion as he said, “The truth about your mother… about you”.

“Please I need to know, Dad”

Valerie’s father let out a long breath, his eyes misty with nostalgia. “It all started when I was seventeen,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “I worked late nights in the garage with your granddad. We were mechanics—grease-stained hands, the hum of engines, and the smell of oil… that was my world. I loved it, but it was just another ordinary night for me. Until we heard it.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Valerie leaned forward slightly, captivated. “Heard what?”

“A noise—loud, roaring, like a jet engine, but stranger. It didn’t sound like anything we’d ever heard before. It came from the woods behind our garage, shaking the ground. My dad and I grabbed flashlights and went to check it out. We figured maybe a plane had crashed.”

He paused, his voice lowering. “But what we found… it wasn’t a plane. It was a spaceship. Sleek, smooth, and completely alien. We were stunned. And inside, there she was.”

“Mom?” Valerie asked quietly.

Her father nodded, his face softening. “Yeah, your mom. She was slumped over, unconscious, with a nasty gash on her forehead. We didn’t know if she was alive or… something else. But we couldn’t just leave her there. My dad and I carried her and that ship back to the garage. It wasn’t easy—the thing was heavier than it looked. We hid the spaceship under a tarp in the barn. If anyone saw us… well, it wouldn’t have been good.”

He smiled faintly. “Your grandma took one look at her and said, ‘Bring her in. We’ll take care of her.’ That’s how your mom ended up in our house. She was… different. At first, she didn’t speak a word we could understand. But she was alert, always watching, always listening.”

“How long did it take her to learn Vorenthean?” Valerie asked.

“About a month,” her dad said, impressed even now. “She was sharp, your mom. Picked up on things fast. And she didn’t just learn the language. She started helping out in the garage too. At first, I thought she was just curious. But it turned out she had a real knack for engines. She’d take one look at something, and she just knew how it worked.”

Valerie raised an eyebrow. “Better than you?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not always. Your mom was good—real good—but there were some things I had over her. For one, she didn’t understand the small-town charm of fixing up old beaters or making do with what you had. She was used to advanced tech, so when it came to improvising, I had the edge. I’d rig up something with duct tape and baling wire, and she’d just stare at me like I was a magician.”

Valerie grinned. “That’s sounds like you, Dad”

“But there was something else,” he added, his smile turning wry. “Her strength. She didn’t know her own limits, not at first. I can’t tell you how many bolts she snapped clean in half or how many tools she bent out of shape just trying to use them. She’d grip a wrench too hard, and it’d warp like it was made of clay. Your granddad would tease her about it, but I could tell it frustrated her. She didn’t like feeling out of control.”

Valerie’s expression softened. “That sounds… hard for her.”

“It was,” her dad said. “But she adapted. We worked on it together. I showed her how to handle things gently, how to focus on precision instead of brute force. I think she appreciated that—me being able to teach her something, even though she was so much smarter and stronger in other ways.”

He smiled, the memory clearly warming his heart. “We had this one moment… I’ll never forget it. She was struggling to fix a stubborn transmision. I came over, showed her how to hold the wrench just right, and our hands brushed. She looked up at me, and for the first time, I saw her drop that guarded, serious expression. She smiled—really smiled—and I swear, my heart nearly stopped.”

Valerie blinked, touched by the tenderness in his voice. “That’s… really sweet, Dad.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. The sheriff came by one day, asking about strange sightings in the area. We had to hide her in the barn while my mom stalled him. Your mom was crouched in the hay, holding her breath. When the sheriff left, she burst out laughing—said it was the most excitement she’d had in weeks. I told her to take it seriously, and she just smirked and said, ‘I had it under control.’ That was your mom—always ‘under control’.”

He grew quiet for a moment, his smile fading. “When you were born, we decided to keep everything a secret. Your mom didn’t want you to grow up with the weight of her past. But she did tell me one thing. She said there was something special about you. Something in your blood.”

Valerie’s brow furrowed. “What did she mean?”

“I wish I knew,” he admitted. “She never told me much, just that you were extraordinary. She said you’d understand one day. I think she wanted you to figure it out on your own.”

He reached out and took Valerie’s hand, his grip firm but warm. “Your mom… she was everything to me. And you, pumpkin, you’re everything she hoped for. She’d be so proud of you.”

Valerie felt a lump in her throat, tears welling in her eyes. “Thanks for telling me, Dad. I… I wish I could’ve known her better.”

Her father smiled, pulling her into a hug. “She’s always with you, Val. Always.”

They shared a tender moment together, embracing one last time before her dad finally stood, adjusting the strap of his worn duffel bag.

“Remember what I said, okay?” he began, his voice firm but warm. “No more overworking yourself. If things get out of hand, just run. Promise me.” Then, his expression softened, pride glimmering in his eyes. “But I have to admit, pumpkin, you did great. Fighting a God and still standing? That’s incredible. I’m proud of you.”

Valerie felt a lump in her throat as she met his gaze. “Thanks, Dad. That really means a lot, coming from you.” Then she grinned, adding with mock seriousness, “And don’t forget—you, too. No overworking yourself!”

Her father laughed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m supposed to worry about you, kiddo, not the other way around.”

“Old habits die hard.”

They shared a laugh that lightened the bittersweet weight of his departure.

Before her Dad, Mr. Nordin, could leave, the door creaked open, and the doctor entered. But there was something peculiar about the way he moved—graceful yet deliberate, as if every step was part of some unseen performance. He wore a faint, knowing smile, the kind that seemed to hide endless secrets. His sharp, striking features gave him an almost otherworldly air, though he wore normal lab coat.

Without a word, the doctor strode over to Mr. Nordin and wrapped him in an unexpected hug.

“Thank you,” the doctor said softly, his voice rich and smooth, as if each syllable was chosen with care. “Thank you for raising such a fine warrior. And thank you for being everything she needed, even when the world around you made it difficult.”

Her dad froze, his arms awkwardly hanging at his sides. “Uh… you’re welcome?” He glanced at Valerie, who looked equally confused. “I think?”

The doctor stepped back, his smile widening ever so slightly, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Forgive me. I suppose that was... impulsive. But it’s rare to meet someone who truly understands the weight of parenthood. You’ve done well, Nordin.”

“Well, uh, thanks for the compliment, Doc,” He replied, scratching the back of his head. “But maybe give a guy a heads-up next time you’re going in for a hug.”

The doctor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that filled the room. “Noted. Now,” he said, turning toward Valerie, his expression brightening, “I’m here for a specific reason. The university has seen fit to reward your courage and strength with an upgrade to your oracle system. Consider it a gesture of gratitude—for the exceptional potential you’ve shown.”

Valerie sat up a little straighter, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “An upgrade? What kind of upgrade?”

The doctor retrieved a device from his coat pocket, holding it up for her to see. It was unlike anything she’d ever encountered—sleek, triangular, and etched with intricate carvings that seemed to shift under the light, glowing faintly with an emerald hue.

“This,” he said, his voice almost reverent, “is a prototype. Far beyond what heroes have access to. Faster, more versatile, and equipped with capabilities tailored specifically for someone of your... unique disposition.”

Valerie blinked, her fingers itching to hold it. “It’s... beautiful. Thank you.”

“Ah, but beauty is secondary to utility,” the doctor replied with a sly grin. “This is a tool—a powerful one—but only if wielded wisely. Use it to grow stronger, smarter. But not yet,” he added, wagging a long, elegant finger at her. “Your body is still recovering. Rest first, then explore its wonders.”

“Right,” Valerie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Everyone keeps telling me to rest.”

“Perhaps because you need to hear it,” the doctor teased, arching a perfectly sculpted brow.

He turned back to Mr. Nordin, his tone softening. “Thank you again, Mr. Nordin. Truly. You’ve given her the kind of foundation most can only dream of. I’ll see to it that she has everything she needs moving forward.”

Mr. Nordin hesitated, studying the doctor with narrowed eyes. “Well… thanks, I guess. You seem... very invested in my daughter’s success.”

“Let’s just say,” the doctor replied, his smile widening, “I have a soft spot for those with great potential.”

With that, he placed the glowing device gently on the table and made his way to the door. Before he exited, he paused, turning back to Valerie with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, and Valerie? Do try not to break this one.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Break it? I’ve never broken an oracle system before.”

“Not yet,” he said with a wink, then disappeared down the hallway, leaving Valerie and her father staring after him, perplexed.

“What just happened?” Mr. Nordin asked, his tone half amused, half bewildered.

Valerie laughed softly. “I have no idea. But I think... he might be the weirdest doctor I’ve ever met.”

Mr. Nordin shook his head, chuckling. “Pumpkin, your life just keeps getting stranger.”

She leaned back against her pillows, a faint smile playing on her lips as she stared at the glowing oracle system. “Tell me about it.”