Darrell broke off from his hypothetical plan with a smirk. "But turns out I didn't have to do none of that shit. The thing is, I care about my daughter. I don't want to see her hurt. But obviously, you don't give a single fuck about her. All that hard work? Everything she had riding on her MFA presentation? Did you care? No! You burned her shit all the way to the ground."

Darrell shook his head at Victor. "She thought you were this loving hero beforehand. But you showed her who you really are and ended whatever spell you cast over her. She's never going to forgive you for this. You had her again, and you lost her without me having to do anything. So, seriously man, thanks for doing my job for me. Good looking out. Here, let me order you a drink. We'll make a toast."

With those words, Darrell raised his hand to flag down one of the cater waiters.

Victor wanted to argue, but an ugly feeling came over him. Darrell was a user. A master manipulator and liar. His so-called Lifetime Achievement record bore proof of that.

But Victor didn't think he was lying about this.

And suddenly, everything became clear. Dawn had been telling the truth when she claimed not to know anything about her father's plans. She hadn't been playing him for a fool again. She had meant what she said. Including the part where she claimed to have truly loved him back in Japan.

His anger…his revenge….she hadn’t deserved it. From the start. And certainly not for ten years.

He looked at the app again. She was still in the same place. But this time, that fact brought him no solace.

She was still in the same place…the location coordinates read exactly the same. As did the number of feet. That meant she hadn't moved even a tiny measure of distance in the entire time her father had been talking.

Victor abruptly stood and headed for the event space's doors.

"Hey, where you going, man? I thought we were going to have that drink!" Darrell called after him with a laugh.

The room blurred as Victor rushed to the women's restroom near the museum’s front doors.

As he did so, he remembered her sheepishly telling him how she had barged into the boys' locker room back in Japan.

"I had to go in there," she'd signed in her terrible mix of CSL and ASL. "I had to make sure my brother was all right."

There was no similar hesitation on Victor's part before he burst into the ladies' restroom.

He ignored the sounds of women crying out that he wasn't supposed to be in here as he followed the dot on his phone to the last stall and pushed open the door.

It was empty.

But the dot on his app clearly stated she was there.