Another memory flashed, her father in his office in New York, pale. Sweaty. “Nine months ago, I let myself into the apartment in the city for some reason—I can’t even remember now—thinking he and Momwere out. They’d had tickets to some fundraiser or whatever, and I had to pick something up.” She paused, remembering. Hearing the muffled sounds from his office. “It doesn’t matter. What matters was, Mom wasn’t there, but he was. He’d stayed home because he wasn’t feeling well. When I found him, he was on the floor of his office, because he was having trouble with his balance.”
Alice’s eyes went wide. “Was he—”
“He told me he was fine, but other things seemed off. Nothing obvious—only stuff that you’d notice if you were looking. And I was.”
“Emily, what—”
“He wasn’t as quick on his feet. At first I thought it was age…”
“Seventy isn’t that old anymore. Not for someone like Dad.”
Emily nodded. “Not long after that, he told me. He was sick.” She took a deep breath. “Very.”
“He knew.” Emily’s chest tightened as she watched Alice take in the information. “That’s why he wrote everyone letters.” Alice paused, her lips twisting into a wry smile. “Well. Not everyone.”
“Alice,” she said softly, wishing she could make that better. Wishing he hadn’t punished her that way. And also, understanding. She’d been furious at Alice for years after she left.
Alice waved away the pity in her voice. “So, what…it was on purpose?”
“I don’t know.” Emily shook her head. “He kept it a secret from everyone. He didn’t want people to see him failing. So, yes. Maybe? But I don’t know.” The tears were falling now, faster than they had since she’d heard the news. “Honestly, I don’t think so. I can’t imagine he would have—” She cut herself off, and Claudia took her hand, squeezing tight. Emily looked to Alice’s hands, free on the table. No one holding them.
She reached out and rectified the problem. “I don’t think he would have done it without more time with you, Alice.” They were both crying. “God, I’m so sorry. I should have…”
She trailed off, and Alice reached for her. “No. What could you have done? Predicted this?” Alice gave her a little shake. “Emily. Has anyone in the history of Franklin Storm been able to predict what he would do? All we ever knew was that he’d try to control us.”
That was true. “I think he loved us, too.”
“He did.” Claudia spoke up then, the certainty in her voice a comfort to both sisters. “He loved the shit out of you both. God, Em, think about it. We were so shocked when we found out about your biological father…because Franklin loved you so much. Because he chose to love you. He worked at it. He controlled it.”
Another flash of lightning followed by an immediate crack of thunder.
“Maybe it was an accident,” Alice said. “Or maybe it was Franklin Storm, trailblazing genius, choosing his way out, so he didn’t have to give up control even once.” She gave a little, humorless laugh. “We’ll never know. Another secret, one we can never unravel.”
The fog bell clanged in the distance, punctuating the reference as Alice continued, “You know, everyone was so concerned about it not seeming fair. It felt like the sky wasn’t falling for all of us. Only for Sam, having to face the truth of his marriage. Only for Greta, having to choose between Tony and Mom.”
Emily sucked in a breath at that. “That one was brutal.”
“More brutal than watching your father die and not being able to tell anyone? The sky fell for you nine months ago.”
“More brutal than not being here when it happened?” Emily responded. “The sky fell for you the longest.”
“Well. That’s a Storm Olympics I’m not interested in winning.” Alice went quiet, lost in her thoughts. “He had nine months,” she said, a tremor sliding into her voice. “And he didn’t try to reconcile. Didn’t even write me a letter.”
“Alice, he…he didn’t know how. He’d never had to work for anything like you.”
Alice nodded. “That’s why he invited me to the Fourth of July. Why you did.”
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said. So many apologies that night. How many more would there be before the ledgers were all balanced again? “I should have told you—that he was sick.”
“No.” Claudia stepped in. An observer. “I mean, yes, Alice should have known your dad was sick. But Em, none of this was your fault.”
“Exactly.” Alice nodded. “This isn’t your failing.Heshould have told me. He should have told all of us. He shouldn’t have made you carry that water alone.” A tear spilled down her cheek and she dashed it away. “He could doanything. And he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t be honest with us. Even at the end. And I don’t understand.”
Emily shook her head. “I haven’t understood for months. I think that’s part of it.”
“Some things stay secrets,” Alice said, simply.
“That’s the worst, isn’t it?” Emily asked.