This made him laugh, an accomplishment that always filled me with pride and pleasure. “With a nice little egg on top?”

“Yes, please,” I said, trying to compose myself back to normalcy, or whatever semblance of it was still possible.

“What should we do while we wait?” he asked after we’d put in our perfect order.

“I got a new game.” I pointed to my console. “It’s basically a joust tournament. You want to be the last woman standing.”

“Turn it on.” He settled back on my couch, right at home. “Although it’s the definition of stupidity to keep playing you at this stuff. You always beat me.”

“You’re English.” I handed him a controller, turned on the system. “Jousting should be in your blood.”

Atlas looked me square in the eye and smiled again. “I’m glad to be back, Daisy. We have much to catch up on, yeah?”

“We do,” I said. “Including this wedding in a few weeks. Wait until you hear what the groom said to Cricket. But I know you’re really busy, so whenever you need to go, just let me know. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep me company all day.”

“I’m good,” he said.

And, yes, here he was: a man I could still believe.

Eight

After a month of personal leave to help Cricket and Wallis with triage, it was time to return to work. I donned makeup and real pants, the latter of which felt strange after so much time in loose denim and black spandex. On the Red Line, I practiced the several dozen talking points I’d prepared:

Yes, this is truly unfortunate...

I was just as shocked as you...

I appreciate your concern, and hope you understand why my family requests privacy during this...

I prefer to keep my father’s life separate from my own...

That last one was probably my weakest. Who would believe me? My father had given me my first real paying job in politics, after all, though nepotism had only gotten me so far; he’d hired me as a legislative correspondent, one rung above an intern. Don’t say I never did anything for you, he told me on my first day.

His last gift: this mess. I was furious with him. But I also wished he was here. He would know, with certainty, the quickest way to mop it up.

“Your dad is a dick,” I heard someone say.

Looking up from my notes app, I discovered the young woman in the seat directly across the aisle staring at me. She had inky-blue eyes and a short, chic haircut.

“He is a complete asshole,” she said again, loud, making sure I heard over the rumbling whine of the train.