Sleighteen – Chapter 8: Phantom Father

Anna spun around.

A tall, stately gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair and light brown skin stared back at her.  His eyes flickered towards Tae for a moment before returning to her face.  

“I thought you knew to come alone.  Who is he?”

“A better question is: who are you?”

“Don’t play games with me, April.”

“April?  Who is April?”

“You are.  Just like I’m your father.”

She held his eyes with her own as her brain worked feverishly in an attempt to figure this out.  “So, what you’re saying is that you’re not my father?”

He looked puzzled for a moment.  “You know you’re an orphan.”

Those words snaked through her like an arrow planting itself deeply within her heart.  The pain lancing her core was white-hot.

“What?!”

The mysterious man was completely at a loss.  She looked so grief-stricken over a fact that she had lived with for thirteen long years.  “This isn’t news to you.  Your parents died when you were five years old.  Why are you acting so shocked?”

What was going on?  Her father wasn’t dead.  He couldn’t be!

“What about my brother?”

“You have no brother.  You were an only child.  You came into the program as a teenager.  You’ve been groomed for this.  You are an excellent asset to the company.”

What was he talking about?  “Company?  What company?”

“I need the sketchbook now.  You’ve played your part perfectly.  Can I see the sketches?”

In a daze, she handed the book to him.  He thumbed through it.  “Your work is superb.”

“I drew those sketches?”

He looked up at her in surprise.  “Of course, you drew them!  Your gift is why you’re helping us.”

“But I had never been to the top of the Willis Tower until today. How did I draw that?”

“Oh, that’s easy.  From pictures.”

“So, you’re telling me that I’ve never been to any of those places?”

“Not that I know of.  We gave you many pictures, and you created the sketches from them.  But you already know all of this.”

“No.  I woke up this morning thinking I was someone else.  Just a girl from Pakistan.”

“From Pakistan?”  His mouth dropped open.  He shook his head.  “No, April.  You’re not from Pakistan.”

“Where am I from then?”

“New York.”

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