Page 93 of Friend Me

“Maggie.” His eyes were unfocused.

He could call me Minnie Mouse for all I cared. “It’s Marlee, Dad.” I wiped a tear from my cheek.

His fingers twitched in my palm, and I gripped them. “I’m glad I found you, Maggie. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His eyelids closed. But he’d been awake. I sniffed.

A heavy arm came around my shoulders, and for a wild moment, I thought it was Tyler. But it was Jackson. He pressed a warm cup into my hand, and I gripped it.

“He woke up. That’s great. It’ll be smooth sailing from here,” he said.

Jackson may have been a genius about programming, but, sadly, he knew next to nothing about Alzheimer’s Disease. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

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