Page 154 of Illusory

What if my dad was one of those people?

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The artic chill that took us seemed to go on forever. Even after we finally materialized in some unfamiliar, otherworldly landscape, the cold never left. Fog rolled thickly around us, blanketing the ground and rising halfway up to my knees, making it feel as though we were floating in the void.

I stepped back from Trace and glanced around, an eerie chill slithering down my spine.

There was something oddly familiar about this place. While it seemed similar to the Veil, it also distinctly wasn’t. The air was heavier here, thick with the sound of distant,empty echoes—as though whispers were lingering just beyond reach.

Were we in the Spirit Realm? Outside of it? I couldn’t tell up from down.

“We’re in a sort of alcove between the Veil and the Spirit Realm,” Trace answered, still holding my hand.

I looked up at the swirling mass of dark clouds above. Every so often, they sparked with an iridescent glow—something I’d never seen on Earth.

We definitely weren’t home anymore.

“What now?” I asked, turning back to him.

“Now, you go meet your father again,” he said, gesturing over my shoulder.

Holding my breath until my lungs screamed, I slowly turned around and immediately spotted the dark silhouette of a man standing in the distance. Though I couldn’t make out any of his features, I knew it was my dad.

Letting go of Trace’s hand, I kicked off the ground and ran, my feet cutting through the heavy fog that never cleared until I was close enough to make out his face, and then I stopped, staring at him through blurred eyes.

I wasn’t even sure when I’d started crying, but by the time I realized it, my face was already hot and soaked with tears that seemed to have no beginning, middle, or end.

“Dad,” I choked out, barely able to form the word.

The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile, his eyes crinkling as he stared back at me before opening his arms wide.

I flew across the space so quickly that for a moment, I wondered if I’d teleported into his embrace.

“Jems.” His strong arms circled me, and he dropped a kiss on top of my head, holding me tightly against his chest—against a body as real and tangible as my own.

Grief-stricken sobs racked my body as I buried my face in his shirt, squeezing him with all my might, terrified that if I let go for even a second, he would disappear.

“I’ve missed you, baby girl.”

“I missed you more,” I sobbed, the words tumbling out faster and harder than I could keep up with. All my grief, fears, and regrets crashed down on me at once, spilling from my mouth as though I had no control over it. “I’m so sorry about everything that happened, Dad. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know anything!”

“Shhh,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head again before pulling back to look at me. His charcoal eyes glistened with emotion, but he didn’t falter. “You were never meant to save me, sweetheart. That was never in the cards for either of us. Everything happened just the way it was supposed to.”

“No.” I shook my head. “How can you say that? You’re not with me anymore. You’re not alive because I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch you die.”

“I wasn’t meant to survive that night, Jems. That wasn’t going to change, no matter what we did—or didn’t do. I wasn’t meant to guide you through this phase of your life. I chose my exit long before I became your father,” he said, and I shook my head, still not understanding his words or the meaning behind them.

“I…I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of it.”

He smiled gently, but it was a sad thing that made my heart tremble and fold inside my chest. “It just means you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, with the people who were meant to be there with you.”

I blinked through my watery gaze. “How do you know that?”

“Well…let’s just say the view’s different when you’re on the other side.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I swallowed thickly, my sorrow choking me. “Why didn’t you tell me what I was—whose daughter I really was?”

“I did,” he said, and I frowned because I was sure I would have remembered hearing something like that. “You’re my daughter, Jemma. You may be born of His blood, but you have always been and will always be my daughter. Everything I did was to protect you—to give you the life and childhood you deserved.”

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