19

Nina pulled her coat closer around herself as she stood on the side of the road with a cheap phone in her hand and uncertainty in her heart. A car drove past her, stirring up a cold breeze that almost felt like a slap. Above her, the sky had turned darker, making it feel much later than it actually was.

All of this barely caught Nina's attention as she focused on the device in her hand, the plastic feeling warmer after being held for so long. Even so, she couldn't make up her mind.

I shouldn't call anyone, she told herself, trying to reason her way to an answer. It's too late to involve anyone.

Nina was well aware of that. She knew just how risky it was, especially after the people at SEIN had realized she'd taken Fearnley's medical records. She would be surprised if they hadn't already questioned her friends—her family.

Her father came to mind. Her father, who lived alone because she couldn't bear to live in a house filled with memories of her mother. Nina felt her mouth go dry, felt a pain in her heart as she wondered what he would think if he knew of the mess she'd gotten herself into.

"Sometimes, you have to do what's right, even if it's difficult. And it usually is!" Her father had laughed when he told her that, and Nina had smiled along with him. That was before she'd known just how right he was.

He would understand.

The thought, along with the memory of his voice, were enough to get Nina to dial a familiar number. She held her breath as the phone rang, each sound seeming to stretch for far too long and the pause between them like a void. After what seemed like an eternity, someone on the other end of the line picked up.

"Hello?" the word was spoken with some caution that Nina was sure came from having a call from an unknown number. Still, it was good to hear her father's voice.

"Dad, it's me," Nina said, struggling to keep her tone even.

"Nina? Why do you have a different number?"

That was enough to tell Nina that her dad knew nothing of what was going on. Later, she would wonder what had made the authorities keep her father in the dark—or maybe it had been SEIN who'd wanted it that way. Whatever the case, Nina was just happy to be able to hear a familiar voice.

"Yeah, I lost my phone," she said with a forced laugh, hoping he wouldn't notice. "I guess I've just been distracted with work. Kind of lost track of where I left the damned thing."

"Sounds like you needed more time off," her dad said. Nina wasn't surprised. He'd always stressed how she should take care, not overwork herself. She smiled a bit at the thought, the first time she'd done so in what felt like an eternity.

"I'm fine, dad. Just as tired as usual," she lied. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, so now you're checking up on me?"

"Well, someone has to." Nina felt lighter as she spoke to her dad, some of the exhaustion that had persisted for so long fading away with each word her dad spoke. She heard her dad chuckle a bit and nearly laughed herself.

"I'm alright. You know hardly anything changes around here."

"You can't blame me for asking," Nina said. She thought of her hometown, of the quiet streets and the familiar faces that only grew older as time passed, hardly changing as if the place were frozen in time. She supposed that applied to her dad as well. He was still there, in that home he'd made for his family, with the same knick knacks lining the mantel and photos framed on the wall. Nothing had change, and for once, Nina was glad for that much.

Even so, there was something on her mind, something that maybe only her father could answer. Doubts that she needed to lay to rest. It was, perhaps, the main reason she'd made the call.

"Hey, dad, do you remember the girl I used to play with all the time? I used to go to her house sometimes." Nina tried to be vague, knowing it was the only way she'd get the answer she needed. Even if it wasn't the one she wanted.

There was a short pause during which her father must have been thinking over the question. Nina supposed it was a strange thing to ask. Especially when it had been so long since they'd last spoken. Nina felt a sharp pang of regret at all the time she'd wasted, all the calls she wished she'd made.

I'll make it right, Nina thought. Once this is all over, I'll make it all better.

"Can't say I remember much about your little friends back then," Nina's father admitted, drawing her back out of her thoughts. "I was always working, honey," he went on with some regret.

Nina wasn't surprised. He was right, after all. She could recall long days in which she'd wait for her dad to get home, her mother's reassurance that he was on his was the only thing that kept her spirits up. Nina could still picture the tired smile her father would give her as he walked through the door, and the way she'd rattle on about her day while they headed to the dinner table.

"Well, now that I think about it, I do remember seeing you with one of your friends a couple of times," her father said, a thoughtful tone to his voice as he clearly did his best to remember what the child had looked like. Nina listened with bated breath, thinking of Nat's dark hair and mismatched eyes. "It was a short little girl, reddest hair I've ever seen." Her father chuckled, and Nina felt like her heart was breaking all over again.

"Why do you ask? You thinking about home?" he sounded hopeful to Nina, something that only made the regret she felt stronger. She still worked up a laugh that she hoped was convincing enough. Nina hoped the brittle sound would be enough to fool her own father.

"Who knows, the holidays are coming. I guess I'm due for a visit soon," she said, knowing her father would like that. More than that, the idea of going home after everything was over was more appealing than Nina had ever thought it would be. She needed a familiar place where she could rest without worrying. A place where she could be with people she loved and be sure of who she was—that she belonged. "I just ran into someone who reminded me of her, is all."

"Ah, now it makes sense. I was starting to think you were getting sentimental," her father joked. They both knew all too well that Nina had always kept much of what she felt to herself.

"I don't think you have to worry about that any time soon."

"Well, I don't know honey. You are getting on in years."

Nina actually snorted at that. It was a dumb joke, the kind her dad had made for as long as she could remember. Still, she couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of her on it's own, true and bright. It was something she hadn't thought she was still capable of. On the other end of the line, her dad laughed along, and the joy in his voice warmed Nina's heart.

"How are you doing?" her dad asked once the laughter had subsided. "Are you back at work?"

"Yeah," Nina lied. She didn't stop to think about how much easier that had gotten. "I've been back for a bit. It's nice, gives me something to do."

"As long as you're not working yourself to death."

"I'm not, I promise. I haven't been doing much, no big stories or anything. It's hardly a step up from laying around, resting all the time."

"It's what's best for you," her father said. Nina could have laughed again. Only this time, there would be no joy in it, just a bitter amusement at wishing she could do just what her father suggested.

"Don't worry, dad. I'm fine," Nina said, managing to sound normal. Then, a thought crossed her mind. A fleeting image of her mother along with doubts that still dwelled within her. Nina hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should bother asking. Afraid of what answers she would receive.

"Hey, dad, do you remember ever just think of mom?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Nina held her breath, heart beating in her chest as her mother's face swam in her head. Her smile, warm and comforting, was something too important for her to lose.

The moment of silence between the question and her father's answer felt like an eternity. Slowly, time trickled by, and her father finally spoke.

"I think about her all the time, honey," her father said, voice soft and full of the love he'd always had for Nina's mother. "Just this morning, I started humming one of her favorite songs while I was making some coffee. Guess that habit of hers must have stuck onto me," he said with a chuckle.

Nina laughed, relieved, and felt her eyes sting and then overflow. The tight grip of fear on her heart eased and Nina felt like she could breathe again. Her mother, humming as she made dinner, a smile on her face when she heard Nina start to hum along with her from her seat at the kitchen table—that was a memory Nina held dear to her heart. It was a memory that she could now be sure was true.

"Why do you ask?" her dad said, curious.

"Just wondering. I've been thinking about her. Maybe it's just because of the holidays approaching, I don't know," she said, wiping her eyes with a cold and shaking hand.

"Well, she did always love the holidays."

"Yeah, she did," Nina said with a smile. "Hey, dad, I have to go now. I have some work to do and I'll be making a short trip for an interview."

"I thought you said you were taking it easy," Nina's father said, suspicion and amusement clear in his voice.

"I am, I won't be gone long. It's just a short drive away."

"Well, it's not like I can stop you." Nina could hear her father sigh, clearly exasperated. "You're coming over for Thanksgiving, aren't you?"

"Of course dad." Nina hoped everything would be over by then.

She thought of what it would be like to sit with her dad for a nice dinner. To know that she was safe, that things were okay. That Fearnley was free and Alice could finally find some peace. It seemed like a faraway dream, and a part of Nina thought of it as an impossibility. Still, it was a nice thought to indulge in, if only for a moment.

"Alright, I'll see you then. And don't forget to call every once in a while."

"I won't. Bye dad."

For a while, Nina stood there, staring at the now silent device in her hand and already missing the sound of a familiar voice in her ear. She wondered when she'd hear that voice again—or if she ever would in the first place.

A cold breeze swept by, making the wet streaks on her cheeks almost hurt from the chilled feel that hit them. She pocketed the phone, wiped at her eyes and walked back to her car, feeling just the slightest bit more light than she had before she'd dialed her father's number. A weight had been lifted off of her, the knowledge that her whole life wasn't a lie enough of a comfort to keep her going.

The road didn't seem as daunting anymore, not when Nina felt a little better about the things she needed to do—about the things she would likely find on her journey. More than that, it made Nina more certain of where she should go.

Alice had been scared, had known more than she should have. She needed comfort, a place of safety and the warmth of the people who knew her best. Alice headed home, to the family much like Nina had sought out her father's voice and the reassurance that came from reminiscing about her mother.

Her mind called forth the image of her mother, smiling as she stood next to Nina—of where the picture had once taken up a small space on Nina's wall. And then she was thinking of woods and the scent of damp wood and earth. The scents of home.

Nina thought of a small hand reaching for a doorknob at the end of the hall. Of the sound of footsteps on a hardwood floor, bouncing off of cream colored walls, and the warm voice of a woman. More than anything, she thought of Alice. She thought of the plea in her green eyes as she stared back at Nina from within a mirror framed in silver.

And then, there was a painting. Leaves of gold and red and bark the color of wet earth, the winding waters of a river and a bridge stretching over it. The woods beckoned to her, Nina's gaze far away for a moment. In the next, she was herself, and she wondered when the woods had called to Alice. When she'd first yearned for home.

Nina didn't know, not yet, but she would find out.