“So not only will he lose his memories of who he is and who we are, but he will become someone else at the same time?”

“No. He will not become someone else. He’s still your dad. His brain is being damaged, and this will cause him to lose memories and act differently. But you have to remember he is still the same man. You must do your best to keep that in your heart.” Dr. Ray nodded toward the door. “He should be dressed and ready in a minute. You have plans to make. You need to consider arrangements. I’ll put you in touch with a social worker to discuss safety, where he’ll live and financial concerns. You have a lot ahead of you, but I know you both have a devoted brother. Gavin is lucky to have such a strong family network. I understand he owns a pub and is close to the townspeople? He is well respected?”

“Yes.” Grief grabbed Colleen by the throat. The family. The town. The pub. She’d given them up and now they would help her dad.

Gavin’s voice reached them just as he stepped into the room. “Well, are you all in here talking about me behind my back?” He was dressed and carrying his shoes in his hand.

Hallie went to her dad and hugged him. “Dad, put on your shoes.”

“They are on.” Then he glanced at his hands and laughed. “On my hands.” Gavin sat down and looked at Dr. Ray. “Okay, give it to me straight.”

Dr. Ray recited what she’d told the sisters while Gavin sat quietly, his shoes on his lap. “So it’s true.”

“Dad, we will do everything,” Colleen blurted out.

He looked at her with an expression she’d never seen—he was frightened. “Everything will not be enough. I know that is true.” Gavin swiped his hand across the table and magazines scattered; his shoes fell from his lap to the floor.

“Dad?” Colleen stared at him. He was aging quickly, the confusion etching his face with worry lines. Regret washed over her with the sensation of being punched in the stomach. She should have spent more time with Dad. Asked him about his life. Asked him . . .

His gaze slowly shifted to Colleen and then to Hallie as he slipped on his loafers. “If this becomes a hardship on you two or your brother, you must let someone else take care of me.”

“What are you talking about, Dad?” Colleen fought back tears. “We aren’t giving you away because—”

“I won’t be me.”

Colleen twisted her hands together, knotted them together. “You will be you. You will. You’re the one who tells me about the Celtic world of the soul. That won’t change. Your soul doesn’t have plaque on it.”