This illusion shows the power of love and forgiveness. Where an upstanding community leader never stopped loving his late wife’s troubled daughter, even after the pain I caused. So much so, he found me, and after all my regret and apologies, he forgave me for running off with Roman. We reconnected, bonded, grew close enough he entrusted me with his life.

He upheld the deceit in every aspect, never breaking character, it seems. Even when he filed required updates to paperwork at the department.

Such a fucking pity a compulsive lie finally outperformed him.

I was supposed to be in NYC tonight for Of Men and Wolves’ final concert on their tour. I was going to watch Adams North take the stage, be there when Foster plays Madison Square Garden.

Instead, here I am, walking through Ashfield’s hospital halls. Ready to fulfill the role Daniel cast me in.

“Remi.”

When I glance over my shoulder, Sage is speeding down the hallway. She’s in scrubs, hair gathered on top of her head, and has a hand latched onto the stethoscope around her neck to keep it from swinging as she rushes after us.

“Just a second,” I tell the nurse, going to meet her.

She knocks me back a step as she throws her arms around my neck. It reminds me of when she’d be the only one who ever hugged me, and I close my eyes, embracing her back.

“I’m so sorry you’re having to deal with this. They said your name, and when I asked why, one of the other nurses shared the gross story that bastard’s been telling. I thought you at least deserved to know.”

“Thank you. Even if it’s the worst reason to call, I’m glad you did.” I pull away, and she studies me.

“You want me to go in with you?”

Despite the knots in my belly, chest, and throat, I shake my head. “I need to do this on my own.”

I’ve told myself the first part over and over since she called me twelve hours ago. While I booked my flight to Ohio. In the back of the Uber headed to JFK instead of to see Foster. When the plane landed, and as I rented a car, and at least every ten miles of the drive to Ashfield.

Even after saying it aloud just now, I repeat it in my head.

I need to be here. I need to walk into that room. I need to deal with the monster in my closet.

So I can fully live the life Foster’s shown me glimpses of, and I know waits for me with him.

He bought me a house. He found more of my dad for me to hold onto without fear of losing it. He reminds me I’m safe, and his promises are secure.