Page 32 of The Immortal’s Mark

“Dad?” I sit on the edge of the bed, facing the open balcony doors. “Are you busy?”

“Hey, sweetheart. No, not at all. Give me a moment.” His voice drifts away. Papers rustle. I wait and stare out at the cloudy sky. The line grows oddly quiet. I pull the phone away to check the connection.

“All right. That’s better.” Dad clears his throat. “Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good.”

I pluck at a loose string on the duvet. “What are you up to?”

“Ah, nothing. Just research with a colleague at the library.”

That explains the whispering.

“Cool. What research?” I lean back onto the mattress, settling in for the conversation.

Dad proceeds to update me on his latest project—a continuation of the book he wrote regarding the supernatural lore of ancient cultures.

The fact that I’m currently caught in the middle of a supernatural conflict makes me examine every piece of information he shares with a magnifying glass, searching for any likeness to the reality I’ve been exposed to.

There’s more than I expected.

And the fact that I can’t share the truth with him kills me.

“… my editor has charged me with examining the eras where more lore popped up, searching for similarities across cultures. Fascinating stuff. Truly fascinating stuff.”

I smile at his enthusiasm. “I’m glad you’re enjoying work, Dad.”

“I am,” he states. “But I miss you.”

My chest squeezes. “I miss you, too.”

“I can’t wait to see you in a few weeks.”

Guilt clogs my throat. “Dad, I already told you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to take time off from classes to visit you in Italy.”

He’s scheduled to meet with Italian colleagues, the same ones he worked with before his cancer diagnosis. He’s determined to continue the work they started after his miraculous recovery, and with the Immortals’ Masking leading him to believe I’m back in Greece, he’s just as determined to see me.

Honestly, the intricate mind manipulations the Immortals weaved to explain my absence are impressive and terrifying.

Every single person in Brunswick who’d known I was there, enrolled at St. Phillips and working at the Bean Bazaar, had to be magicked to not question my sudden departure.

To them, my presence in Greece isn’t a surprise, but they haven’t forgotten my time back in Maine.

It’s strange walking the line between the realities in their head. Not that I have to talk to anyone aside from Dad. Kayla and I are still not speaking after she yelled at me for breaking up with her brother.

And Kevin… well… we haven't reached out to each other, either.

But while Dad isn’t alarmed by my sudden departure from Maine, his protective instincts are still engaged. And he’s not taking no for an answer.

“If you can’t come to Italy, then I’ll come to you.”

I groan. “Dad…”

“We both know missing a class or two won’t impact your studies. Not with your academic prowess. A trait I take full credit for.”

I huff a weak laugh.