A Fortunate Accident – Chapter 3

I don’t sleep. I walk and sit outside all evening until dawn colors the edge of the sky with deep purples and scorched oranges. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I have to do something. I can’t ignore this situation anymore. When I check with my gut, there’s only one thing it’s saying to me.

I have to fight this. Dominic and the dads walked all over me for my entire childhood. I can’t let them get away with this. It would be easier to lie down and have them take everything from me. But I won’t. I can’t.

Not if I’m going to save my very soul.

Because my soul is at stake here. A court case will be a public affair, and Dominic would love it if he could sully my name and make me pay for… well, existing. I can’t let the Duo Systems think this story of my life is true. No one will ever work with me again if they do.

I have a super keen memory, and it has never failed me before. I remember everything that happened to me. But their narrative is so different from mine. Was I wrong? Was it all my fault? My memories are so clear, but they could be wrong.

My memories could be wrong.

I slip into the house before dawn, and no one is up, not even early riser Ilaria. I’m quiet in my bedroom as Saif sleeps in the bed. My heart aches as I watch his chest rise and fall. We’re just getting to know each other, and my drama keeps getting in the way. I still need to connect with him, get to know him, and have him get to know me, but I can’t do that while I’m constantly fighting these battles.

I grab new clothes, shower in the downstairs bathroom, and leave to catch a train to the other side of Sakata City. It’s the beginning of rush hour, so commuters and those with early classes at school crowd the train. I get a seat for the second half of the trip and stare out the window, letting my brain turn over my options as the train winds through the southern suburbs of Sakata City.

My brain hurts from all the thinking, so I switch over to my messages for the last ten minutes of the trip. Sigh. Takemo Diaz is at the top of my message queue.

His handsome yet infuriating face sits right in front of me. “Hey, Skylar. I just wanted to confirm that I pulled your mother off trash hauling a few days ago. She was pretty belligerent and annoyed, despite the easier line of duty.”

He laughs, and I huff a breath through my nose.

“Now I know where you get it from. So, you still owe me an explanation of how you pulled off that win at the Bridge tournament. Don’t think I’ve forgotten. I plan to pry it out of you if I can. Maybe we’ll run into each other at the job site sometime soon. Though not too soon. I’m just getting over the last time we spent time together. You really pack a punch, Skylar.”

He winks, and the message ends.

What an asshole.

I turn off my Estrela access as the train makes it out to the western towns. My stop is Katano, a sleepy little speck of a place, filled with quaint houses and small farms.

I take a deep breath before I announce my presence at Dad’s house. It’s been a while since I was last here, and I’m not sure of his sleeping habits. He was always an early bird, so I hope that hasn’t changed.

“Skylar,” he says, opening the door with wide eyes. “What are you doing here so early?”

I inhale and catch the scent of cinnamon and cloves. Dad’s been baking. The tea towel tucked into his pants pocket and a light dusting of flour across his sweater affirm the suspicion.

“Ana just got home three hours ago. She’s dead asleep.” He steps to the side and admits me to the front entryway.

“I never went to bed, so I won’t stay long.”

His eyebrows climb. “You must be tired. Can I get you some coffee?”

“Please.”

I follow him into his kitchen and nod at the apple pie cooling on the counter. Dad’s cat, Cleo, meows and undulates in and out of my legs, hoping for a treat. I pick her up and pet her until those wonderful purrs come from her chest. She’s the sweetest cat, and I love weaving my fingers through her long fur and burying my face in her coat. I set her down once Dad hands me the coffee cup. Ah, coffee. Pure life, right here.

“Thanks,” I mumble, turning and sitting down on the couch.

Dad sits across from me in his recliner. Looking at him, I’m struck by how much he’s aged in the last few years. His dark wavy hair has more silver strands than I remember, and a set of crow’s feet frame his light brown eyes.

“So, you’ve probably heard about what happened last night?”

His mouth pinches. “No. I wasn’t up yet when Ana came home. Why? Was there a problem at the fall festival?”

“Mom hasn’t spoken to you?” I ask, probing deeper into his personal life than I have ever before. Yes, our usual conversations are hopelessly shallow and vague. I sip my coffee and wait.

He hesitates for a long moment before sighing. “Skylar, I haven’t spoken directly to your mother in two years.”

“What?” I pull back. “How is that possible? You were both at my graduation party.”

He shrugs and shakes his head. “Dom handles the correspondence now. Your mother didn’t speak to me at your party. Not one word.”

I set the coffee aside. “What happened?”

“Skylar,” he pleads, his voice weary. “Let’s not get into it.”

“No,” I say forcefully. “No. We are going to talk about this. I don’t care how embarrassing it is for you. My whole life is at stake now.”

“What do you mean?”

I wave his concern away. “We’ll get to that in a minute. Spill it.”

He spreads out his hands. “Once we gave you the Amagi, I told your mother I didn’t want to take part in the family anymore because I didn’t like the way Dominic treated everyone.”

“And she didn’t believe Dom was anything but kind,” I say, filling in the blank.

He shakes his head. “She loves him the most of us all. She then told me how horrible you were. Swears she saw video footage of you being abusive. That you came after Dominic, and you treated Ana and Jukia terribly.” He worries his hands together, and I hold down the rising anger in my gut. “I didn’t know how to convince her, so I didn’t try.” He shrugs again.

I could launch into a tirade right now about how he was my father and he was supposed to protect me. But I’m stuck on the truth of my memories.

“So, it really was Dominic, and it wasn’t me?” This question shrinks me back to a scared little kid again.

“It wasn’t you, Skylar. I mean, I didn’t see everything, but you were a good kid, or at least tried to be.”

I breathe out a long, slow breath and close my eyes. The statement is ambiguous, but I’ll take it.

The lack of sleep has made me both bone-tired and jittery. I pick up my coffee and gulp it down.

“Okay.” I breathe in and out again. “Okay. Well, if you think it wasn’t me, and I’m certain it wasn’t me, then we should be able to convince a judge it wasn’t me.”

“A judge?” Dad pulls back, his eyes wide.

“Mom’s taking me to court here. She’s stripping me of my name and inheritance.” I grumble, “Not that there’s much left after what she did. And she wants the Amagi back.”

“What?” Dad’s skin whitens by several shades.

“Yeah. So, what I’m going to do is hire an excellent lawyer, and then you, Ana, Miguel, Juan, and me, we’re all going to go before the judge, and —”

Dad pops up from his seat. “No. No, I will not go to court.”

My heart races. “Why not? You just said —”

“I know what I said.” His voice rises in anger. “And telling you you’re not crazy is one thing. Going to court to tell them what happened? No. No. We will just ride it out and hope Dom doesn’t come for us.”

I stand up to face him. “I can’t do that.” I throw my hand out to the side. “I have a life to lead. I’m not living some cushy retirement, baking pies and painting landscapes. I’m trying to build my network and a new business. If Mom strips me of everything, no one will touch me. I’ll lose it all.”

He lifts his chin. “So, lose it all, Skylar. You’re strong. You’ll handle it.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” My voice has climbed to a shout.

“Shhh, you’ll wake up Ana,” he says, pushing his hands down and trying to placate me.

“No, no, no. You will go to court with me and tell them what happened.”

“I’ll do no such thing. Do you think this apartment is free? They’ll cut me off, and then Ana and I will be on the street.”

Fury builds in me so hot that my eyeballs simmer.

“Oh, this is about money? It’s not about helping your daughter? Fine. I’ll fucking pay for the place then.”

He scoffs. “You? With what job?”

Now is the time for me to tell him about the completely dangerous and utterly reckless job I signed on to do for India Dellis on Rio. I should tell him about the credits I’ll earn and how this will start me on the path to my own financial independence if I don’t die in the jungles.

But I’m stuck on the fact that he won’t lift a finger to help me. His life has been pretty easy, and he’s got it good. He has no incentive to step out of line.

“What if I sweeten the deal, Dad?”

His mouth drops open.

“I’ll pay for this place and regular vacations to Laguna for you and Ana. Is that what you want? Will that be enough for you to help me?” The anger in my voice is unmistakable.

“Skylar, this is not something you can bribe me to do.”

“Why the fuck not?” I’m so loud I’m sure the neighbors can hear me. “They are bribing you to keep quiet about something you know was wrong. Why can’t I bribe you to do the right thing?”

Ana appears in the doorway, yawning. We both turn away from each other to look at her. “What’s going on out here? Why are you yelling at each other?”

Dad turns back to me. “I can’t help you, Skylar. No one can know about this, about what happened. You think you’re the only one with a reputation at stake? I’ll be ostracized by everyone if they find out.” He points at the floor. “So, do your duty, First Daughter, and take one for the team. Bury it. Settle it out of court. Do whatever you need to do to make it go away.”

I gasp for breath. Take one for the team? As if I haven’t already given my whole fucking life for this? I take one step away from him, and my chest aches like I’ve been stabbed. I press my hand to my heart and imagine a sword there. They wish this situation would go away. That I would just go away. Not exist.

“Dad,” Ana gasps. “If Sky needs help, we should help her.”

“No,” he says, swiping down with his hand. “It’s too risky.”

There it is. Risky. Nothing about Dad is risky. He is vanilla ice cream. He is plain white bread. He is a ratty old blanket. He is apple pie.

Apple pie.

“Fine. Don’t help me then.” I point at him, directing my anger through the tip of my finger. “But when this is done, don’t come crawling back to me.”

I pivot on my heel, stalk across the living room, grab the apple pie from the counter, and prop it against my hip. Thankfully, it’s already cool enough to handle.

“This is mine now. Payment for you being a shitty father.”

His face… Oh God, his face is priceless. Equal parts shock and anger. He probably got up at five to make this pie, rolled out the crust by hand, and picked the apples himself. Baking is his favorite thing, and I won’t let him have it. Not if he won’t help me.

When I reach the door, I turn around. “And when I’m in court, I’m going to roast you. You had your chance to make this right. Now, you can’t go back.”

I slam the door on my way out.