Farah Rishi - I Hope You Get This Message

“She’s agreed to go, sweetheart,” the officer said gently. “She asked us to come here. She called us .”

Cate froze. “What?” All at once, she understood how the cops had known about Dr. Michel.

Her mom was smiling weakly. Cate could see her softened eyes, the tears welling in them. She could see clarity returning to her. Mom was fighting back. She brought her hand up to the window. Her breath fogged the glass. Cate placed a hand on the window, too, as if she could press her way inside.

“It’s okay, Catey. I—I’m sorry. I’m slipping…”

Cate felt tears spring to her eyes. She wrenched open the car door; Officer Davis made a move to stop her, and Cate expected he would yank her back, but he didn’t.

She wrapped her mom in a hug. “Mom, please…”

“I’ll be okay,” she said, squeezing back. “Dr. Michel will be good to me. We don’t have much time left. I can’t have you holding on to regrets like I do.”

“Regrets? What are you talking about?”

Her mom squeezed harder. “Listen to me, Catey. You’ve taken such good care of me, you know that? It’s my fault you’ve had to grow up so fast. I was stupid and young and getting sicker, and when I left your dad, I didn’t realize you’d end up shouldering everything. If I’d known…”

Cate stilled. “You… left Dad?” Her forehead began to throb, as though something in her skull was clawing to break free. “What do you mean? What—you told me he left us .”

“Everything will be clear soon, I promise.” Her mom pulled away. As the flashing red and blue police car lights played across her face, Cate saw her mom and Molly, Molly and her mom, chasing each other like shadows. She clenched her fist, trying to will the thought away. There was Mom, only Mom.

“Come on now,” said Officer Davis, a hint of soft pity in his voice. He closed the door and Cate stepped back to stand beside him.

Officer Davis’s team started the van and pulled away from the curb. Just before she was out of sight, her mom mouthed the words: the letter .

The van turned and vanished from view.

And then she was gone.

Cate stood there, empty, shocked, staring down the street. She was suddenly aware of all the lights that had come on at once—the electricity on the block had returned. She imagined the windows like eyes peering down at her.

“Is there an adult you can call? Someone you can wait with?” Officer Davis glanced uneasily past Cate into the lifeless, empty house. “Your mother mentioned you have grandparents in Connecticut…”

Cate gritted her teeth. “They won’t help me.” She and her grandparents barely spoke except on major holidays: deeply religious, they had cut off Cate’s mother after she got pregnant out of wedlock.

“All right, then, why don’t you come down to the station with me,” Davis said, “and we can make some phone calls together?” It seemed more like an order than a question. Cate had no idea what to say. She was still a minor—could she argue to stay alone in their apartment? Then again, the world might be ending in a week. Did protocol really matter?

Did anything matter?

She wanted to sit down, take a moment to just breathe and think. But she was afraid that if she sat, she might somehow come apart—her body breaking up into a crumpled pile of limbs. She hadn’t realized she was shaking.

“Okay,” she said. Her mind was whirling, like a greased-up wheel skidding off its tracks. Time. She needed time. “Can I pack a few things first?”

Davis nodded. “Sure thing.”

She had her first lucky break: Officer Davis followed her up the stairs but waited on the stoop when she fumbled open the door and slipped inside. She called Ivy as soon as she was in her bedroom and was hopeful when it didn’t go to voice mail this time. But still, no answer.

Dammit, Ivy. Where the hell was she? If she were here…

Panic crawled its way from her stomach up into her chest, choking her, making it difficult to breathe. The world was ending. Now, here, this second.

What was she going to do?

Think. Think.

She stuffed a bar of deodorant into her bag. A wad of clean underwear. Some T-shirts. A toothbrush. Her unfinished bucket list, scrawled on some Ghibli-themed notebook paper Ivy had gotten her. She kept her eyes off the books on her shelf, the musical jewelry box her mom had given her when she turned fifteen. The things she’d have to leave behind.

“Cate? You okay in there?” Office Davis called in through the open front door.

“Coming!” she called out shakily. She was starting to cry. She was starting to come undone. This was the beginning of the end. She grabbed her keys from the top of her drawer and caught the blackbird key chain staring back at her with mocking eyes. Maybe the stress was making her see things, too. Maybe she’d end up in a ward right alongside her mom, and that’s how they’d spend their last hours on this earth.

At least they’d be together.

Why was she bothering to even pack? Fury and exhaustion fought within her, and she swayed, just wanting to lie down on her bed and close her eyes and make it all go away. She nearly tossed her entire backpack into the trash can in her room when she saw the envelope her mom had labeled and handed to her yesterday. The letter to her dad.

The letter.

She grabbed the letter out of the trash. Her hands shook as her finger slid under the envelope fold and began to tear. She was almost afraid to read it. Afraid it wouldn’t mean anything.

Afraid it would.

She unfolded the letter with trembling hands. She read it over and over, her mind struggling to catch up to her eyes, to process the meaning of the words. But they had meaning; it wasn’t the nonsense she’d expected, not even close. Every part of her body throbbed with painful awareness; she could hardly breathe.

“Cate? I’m coming back there, okay?” Officer Davis’s footsteps began moving away from the front door.

Cate shoved the letter, quickly, into her backpack. It was addressed to an apartment in Reno, Nevada. Wasn’t that where her parents had met?

Just then, her phone buzzed. Cate’s heart flipped when she saw that Ivy had finally written her back. It felt like a sign.

It felt like an opportunity.

“Cate?”

Cate made the decision in an instant. There was no way she could go to the station. Not now. Not with her dad out there. Not now that she finally had a chance—maybe her last chance—to find him.

Without a second thought, she grabbed her bag and crept out of her room and down the hall—toward the back of the house, where there was a separate entrance into the small yard.

And then she ran.

Garrett—

God, I hope you get this letter. There are so many things I’ve wanted to say to you. But now that I’m writing this, the thoughts aren’t coming to me. So I’ll keep it simple. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I pushed you away with no explanation. Maybe one day, I can give you the explanation I owe you. But for now, I need to tell you that I was pregnant. She was yours. But when I tried to find you again, you already had someone else.

I want you to know I cherish our memories.

And I’ll cherish our little girl.

P.S. Her name is Catherine. But she’d tell you she prefers Cate.

When the doorbell rang, Adeem’s heart leaped into his throat. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Unless some soldiers in green uniforms were at his door for an evacuation order, leaflets falling from the sky like snow behind them. Or men with swastikas tattooed on their shaved heads, gripping AK-47s.