“Roz? Rosalyn . . . It’s your father.” She tensed, but let the message play through. “I wanted you to know that I miss you. And happy birthday, of course. Damn. I’m a day late, aren’t I? Bugger it.” The message cut out, then started up again. “Happy belated birthday, darling. I know we haven’t spoken in a long time, and I know you won’t come home, so I won’t ask. That makes your mother want to strangle me, but I won’t ask. There are just . . . things I needed to say.”

Rosalyn braced, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. The tears, the ones that never seemed to come when she was stuck in the space between screaming and sobbing, came freely.

“Glen is out. I should have believed you, I did believe you, it’s just . . . his position at the company, what he did, what he knows about our books, if he turned on us, there would be an alphabet soup of agencies up my ass over it. I had to give him money, Roz, a lot of money, to keep quiet. When you went away I was happy, at first. I know how that sounds. But there are things we’ve done here, places we’ve gone, that were wrong. There’s tech we messed about with, samples we found, that we should have turned over to GATE right away. Maybe it’s better that you’re gone. Not because I don’t want you here, because I do, and not because I don’t miss you, because I do, but because it might be safer. But then, your mother tells me you’re with Merchantia now, so maybe not.”

He let out a long sigh, and so did she. Then she covered her mouth with both hands, the sounds inside too big to let out all at once.

“Didn’t you and Angela have the same birthday? I remember you two giggling together in the lab over it, over a cupcake. Red velvet. God, she’s gone, too. I don’t think we’ll see her again, she loved that project too much, but I shouldn’t have let her leave. This is what I mean, Rosalyn, there are things I can’t tell you, things I wish I could tell you, but then you would be in more danger. Just tell me you’re safe, all right? Give me a gift on your birthday. Late birthday. Typical me, I know. I love you, Rosie girl.”