Chapter 4
I’m meeting with Mrs. Smith today to figure out what happens next. I sit at the kitchen table, tapping my fingernails against the cheap laminate. The repetitive tap-tap-tap is the only sound in the room. She’s late.
When she finally shows up, she’s not alone. I straighten instinctively as a man walks in behind her. He looks… familiar. But I can’t place him.
“Good. You’re already sitting,” Mrs. Smith says, heels clacking across the tile. My eye twitches when she drags a metal chair back with an ear-splitting scrape and sits next to me. The man takes the seat across from me, his sharp blue eyes scanning my face with laser precision.
I try to focus on her, but I can feel his stare like a weighted blanket. Smothering and hot.
Unexpectedly, he speaks first. “Lina?”
My eyes snap to his. He looks mid-forties. Classically handsome. Short blonde hair, neatly styled. Expensive suit. Rigid posture. All professional polish. It’s the eyes that catch me. That shade of blue… I know it.
“Yeah?” I answer. Brilliant, Lina. Truly eloquent.
“I’m FBI Agent Ben Harrington.” He pauses. “I’m your biological father.”
I choke on my own spit.
“What?!”
I whip my head between them like I’m watching a tennis match, waiting for the punchline. This must some cruel, twisted prank, but neither one of them is laughing. Instead, I am.
It starts as a disbelieving huff, but it unravels into full-blown, unhinged cackling that echoes off the kitchen walls.
I’ve officially lost it. Mrs. Smith shifts awkwardly in her seat.
Good. She should be uncomfortable. My real dad’s been dead for seventeen years. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.
“Lina,” she says gently, placing a hand over mine.
I jerk back like she scorched me. “Don’t touch me.”
She recoils instantly, and guilt tugs at my ribs. It’s not her fault I flinch like a kicked dog. That thought alone sobers me. I take a deep breath, press my fingers to the bridge of my nose.
Okay. Pull it together.
I lift my chin and look at the man, my father, across from me.
“Explain.”
Ben nods, like he’s been expecting this moment for a long time.
“I met your mother while working an undercover case. She didn’t know who I really was or what I did.
You were a surprise for both of us. I stayed through the pregnancy and your birth, but when the assignment ended, I had to disappear.
My job is dangerous. I’ve made enemies. Sticking around would've put you both at risk.”
He folds his hands on the table, neat and practiced. It feels like he’s delivering a brief. Not altering my life.
“I thought leaving was the best option.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “Yeah? Versus leaving us with Joe? Do you even know what he did to her? To me?”
“I didn’t know,” he responds, voice tight. “When I checked in over the years, everything looked normal. The pictures… the records… nothing raised red flags. You both looked happy.”
He winces. Even he knows how absurd that sounds now.
“I believed I was doing the right thing.”
I let that sit for a moment. Swallowing the bitterness. But there’s one thing I still don’t understand.
“Why did she tell me you were dead?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she thought it was easier than the truth. Maybe she didn’t want you looking for someone she believed had walked away. I can’t speak for her choices.”
There’s a weight in my chest I can’t quite name. Anger? Grief? Whiplash?
This is all too much, too fast.
“Cut to the chase,” I demand. “Why are you here now?”
Mrs. Smith finally joins the conversation.
“The state isn’t just building a case against Joe,” she says, carefully.
“They’re building one against the entire precinct.
There’s evidence of deeper corruption. Enough for federal charges.
Based on your testimony, we believe you’ll be a key witness, not just against Joe, but the entire system that protected him. ”
My chest tightens.
“Joe may be your biggest threat, but he’s not the only one. When this investigation goes public, others could come after you.”
This is the first I’m hearing any of this.
She continues, her tone clinical but kind. “Placing a minor in witness protection without a legal guardian is essentially impossible, and because of Joe’s involvement, placing you with relatives isn’t safe either.”
She pauses, then drops the real bomb.
“But Joe doesn’t know about Agent Harrington. Your mother never knew his real name. There’s no trail to connect you and him.”
Her eyes lock on mine.
“The safest option is for you to stay with Ben, under a new identity, until Joe is caught or you turn eighteen.”
I blink. That’s it? Just like that?
My mind scrambles for an alternative solution. I don’t know Ben, and I sure as Hell don’t trust him. But I’m not stupid. There is no way out.
“And if I say no?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“For now,” Ben says gently, “you don’t have that option.”
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, exhaling through my nose.
“Fine,” I relent. “Where’s home, Ben?”
“Tennessee.”
My eyes snap open. “You seriously expect me to leave everything and everyone I know and move across the country?”
“If you want to stay alive,” he replies evenly.
I sit in silence, stewing.
God, this feels like a punishment.
But when they put it like that…
What choice do I really have?