"Okay, I shouldn't have said that. But honey, what's done is done. I only told you because I didn't want that on my conscience anymore, didn't want to feel guilty facing you every day. Dad's gone. Let's just move on."
But he was the one who'd knelt at my father's grave and sworn to God he would never betray his teaching, never waste his help and mentorship, that he would love me and take care of me for the rest of his life.
Then he'd taken my father's last chance at survival and spent it saving the woman he cheated with.
I was about to speak when his phone rang.
Bess.
"Professor Swanson, there's a problem with the experiment. Can you come look at it? Please?"
"Sure. Hang tight, I'm on my way."
He forgot I was standing right there. Grabbed his jacket and turned to leave.
I stepped in front of him.
"In your eyes, my father's death doesn't even matter as much as one of her research reports? Do you know how many times I had to convince myself you didn't lose that money on purpose? Do you?!"
He ignored me completely. Sighed, pulled a tissue from the box, held it out.
"I gave you the money back. People have to look forward. Don't let something that's already gone ruin what we have now, okay?"
He shook my hand off and walked out.
So in his mind, giving the money back meant none of it ever happened.
And my father?
Who could give my father back?
My legs couldn't hold me anymore. I collapsed onto the couch.
The bank card was even the same one from four years ago.
Every glance was a reminder.
The man I'd trusted, the man I'd forgiven, was the one who killed my father.
The tears came and wouldn't stop.
My phone chimed with a notification.
A friend request from Bess Hughes.
*Dear mentor's wife—thank you so much for agreeing to transfer Senior Professor Henson's unpublished Verdant Harvest Project to me! With that behind my application, getting into the Academic Research Council won't be a problem at all!*
Every nerve in my skull fired at once.
The Verdant Harvest Project was my father's agricultural research project, named after me.
He'd spent a full month in the fields himself for that study, working until his body gave out and he had no choice but to be hospitalized.
Before he died, the project was nearly finished. He asked me to verify the final results myself, fill in the remaining data, and file the patent. His last wish. The final mark on a life's work.