Page 103 of Forever

I knocked on the door again. I knew my dad had sent most of his staff to the Hamptons with Mrs. Pruitt. But wouldn’t they be back now? Since she was gone?

I knocked again.

And again there was no answer.

“Maybe he’s at work,” I said, but then I shook my head. My father had quit the business. Another thing he’d done for me. Seriously, where was he?

Matt glanced at his watch. “Maybe he’s at lunch?”

Yeah. Maybe.I just really needed to talk to him. I had one of the letters folded in my hand. The one that said “the three of us.” I wanted to know why he’d lied about changing his mind about wanting me. He’d tried to fight for me. Just like he’d tried to fight for me when he found out I was alive when I was 16. Just like he gave up his business to fight to be in my life now. What if I’d completely misjudged him?

I lifted my hand to knock again, but the door finally opened.

Donnelley was standing there. “Hey, Brooklyn,” he said. “How are you?”

How was I?Conflicted. Hopeful. Torn. Sorry. Confused.But that wasn’t really what Donnelley was asking. “I’m good. Is my dad here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I swore I heard a bit of sadness in his voice. And then I started to hear the clock in my head again. I looked behind him, expecting to see the old grandfather clock. But it was missing. The apartment looked…empty. Minus the people walking around carrying boxes. What was going on? I turned back to Donnelley. “Where is my dad?”

“He’s gone, Brooklyn.”

Gone?What did he meangone? I walked past him and into the foyer. There were more people packing up thingsin the dining room. But I was focused on the empty wall where the portrait of him, Mrs. Pruitt, and Isabella had once hung.

Gone.

The word echoed around in my head.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

The word collided with the sound of the clock ticking down in my head. He couldn’t be gone.

“Brooklyn,” Donnelley said. “He’d hoped you’d come by.”

Hoped. Past tense.I shook my head.No.One of the movers almost bumped into me.

It felt like a fist was gripping my heart. My dad couldn’t be gone. We hadn’t gotten a chance to move forward. I had so many questions. I…No.

This wasn’t happening. I turned away from Donnelley and looked up the stairs. Donnelley was wrong. My father had to still be here. He had to.

“Dad!” I called up the stairs. “Dad?!”

“Brooklyn…” Donnelley put his hand on my shoulder, but I shook him off. He was supposed to protect him. How had this happened?

“Dad!” I yelled and took a step toward the stairs. He had to be up there.

“Baby,” Matt said and grabbed my wrist to stop me from running up the stairs.

I turned toward him. And he looked…haunted. He was staring up the staircase instead of at me. And I wondered if he was reliving something. Reliving the moment he found out that I had “died.” Right here. Sixteen years ago.

Matt had said things to me the day before I disappeared that he regretted.

And here I was 16 years later, regretting what Ihadn’tgotten to say to my father.

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