I blink the image away.
Bear shakes his head.
“Zoe and Eli’s been tryin’ to contact them again. But they say no one’s there.”
I finish my bread in silence.
“Tea?” Bear pushes the mug he offered earlier toward me.
“Thanks, Bear.” I take a long drink. The tea isn’t hot anymore, but it’s rich and earthy.
Hodges walks in and stops at our table.
“How’s Miah?” I ask.
“Physically, he’ll be okay after another day or two of rest. I was just coming in to brew him another cup of tea. Mentally, he’s in good spirits. Worried about his friend, of course. Valerian. But keeping me plenty entertained. In fact, he said he feels like a new man. That if he’d lost all this weight before your trek, he probably would have beaten you here.”
I laugh and wonder how Miah does it. How he keeps such a positive attitude.
“Now, tell me how you’re doing? I missed you at the morning meeting, so I’m assuming my sleeping draughts helped.”
“Slept like a baby.”
Did you get something to eat?” he asks me.
“Bear just introduced me to the wonders of gooseberry jam.”
“It’s a revelation, isn’t it?”
“Soren ate almost half a jar ’imself,” Bear says, the corners of his mouth purple and gleaming with jam.
“What's the drill today?” I ask.
“Aside from cooking, not much.” Hodges nods at the man and woman in the corner, who seem to have calmed down a bit from when I first walked in. “We’re waiting to see if anyone shows up. But otherwise, it’s a day of rest.”
Just when I’m about to retort that there’s clearly plenty we could be doing, a pair of hands squeeze my shoulders, thumbs kneading into my shoulder blades. I look up and see Eli’s curly, messy hair, his dark green eyes under butterfly lashes.
“A little lower and to the left, please.”
“I was starting to think your mattress had taken you hostage, Little Bird. I was planning a daring raid to rescue you from its clutches.”
“You weren’t far off,” I say with a smile. “Fortunately, I’m perfectly capable of rescuing myself.”
“That you are,” he says, “but sometimes we all need a little help.” Eli gives me one more squeeze and sits down next to me.
“Any news?” I ask.
“Nothing. Yet.” He fixes me with a fierce gaze that says don’t give up hope.
The moment of ensuing silence is interrupted when, from down the hall, we hear someone running and hollering. I jump to my feet, hope surging through me like an inferno.
“The Director’s here!” she pants. Her face, darker than mine, glows with excitement. “I just keyed her in!” I can’t breathe.
“Is anyone else with her?” Eli demands, reaching over to lace his fingers tightly with mine.
“Yes!” she exclaims. “Adrienne is meeting them now. They’re coming. You’ll see.” I want to run, to follow her as she turns down the hall, back the way she came, but I can’t bring myself to move. Eli’s grip tethers me to reality, as the question thunders in my brain: will my father be with them?
Noises fill the hallway. I hear that familiar resonant voice, and the air whooshes away from me as if I’d been stuck in a vacuum-packed bottle and someone just popped the cork. Too much is happening at once. I see my father’s lined face, covered in a dusky grey beard. His eyes, so tired, so happy, welcome me as I collapse into his arms. Chaos swirls around us, but we’re in our own world, clutching each other. There are no words. There’s no need.
Finally, I pull back, just to look at him, to reassure myself that this is real. I put my palm against his cheek, interrupting the tears tracing lines on his face then disappearing into his beard. “Oh, Remy.” He pulls me in for another hug, squeezing me tight. His chest heaves with a short, stubborn sob, and he opens his arms to pull Eli in as well.
“Remy, my little bird. Eli, my son.”
My heart explodes with the immensity of the moment, weeks of worry and tension
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