More Than Imagined

Chapter 25

Mom was gone. She'd Departed years ago by water, and while the bond Rhoawyn shared with her differed from the one she shared with her father, they were just as close.

"Mama" was her first word. Her mother's face was her first drawing. Her mother was by her side when she needed defending, lending her ear when she needed someone to listen.

And after all those years of love and care that built her up, Rhoawyn didn't come crashing down when she left. Because before her mother went, she told Rhoawyn that all the greatest parts of her were a part of her father too. So if she ever needed another listening ear, another person to come to her defense, another reminder she was still there—that she had been her mother—Rhoawyn could look to him.

It was bad enough that her father had proven himself a liar but even worse that he'd turned Rhoawyn's mother into one too.

With trembling eyes, Rhoawyn locked onto every movement he made. The live-feed was too steady, too clear, to be anything but real. She blinked, trying to hide behind small seconds of darkness—to erase the truth being streamed on the screen, but the image didn't evaporate. He was really there. He wasn't a figment. This wasn't the cruel joke Rhoawyn wished was being played on her.

Her father, with his same dark hair and dark skin, has appeared before her. From the looks of the walls in the footage, he seemed to be somewhere in the building. When she realized this, Rhoawyn's first instinct was to charge off, to find him—to see him in the flesh. But she remained frozen—paralyzed—by what seeing him face to face would confirm.

When it came to partnerships, there was only one rule for marriage in The Apex. They only permit a person to have another go at it if their spouse Departs. And as Rhoawyn watched her father on screen in a lab—because, of course, he was—she wondered how long he had been waiting for them to take her mom away.

Had he always been so desperate to break free? Had he been planning his farce of a Departure since the moment he became a Techromancer? Had he arranged for someone else to Depart in his place? How could he even set that up without connections to the Nines and Tens? Why would they even grant him such a favor? The Apex leaders aren't known to be people who would make deals and with anyone outside of their inner circle—Techromancer or not. So then why? How?

Questions frenzied through Rhoawyn's mind like a mob of angry bees desperate to protect their hive after it had been smacked by an outside force. Rhoawyn wished there were some present to sting her now—to wake her up from this venomous nightmare.

But she knew that wouldn't happen. There was no avoiding this reality—no avoiding the truth that was right in front of her.

So she tried to connect the dots instead. She tried to make sense of it all by centering logic and not emotion. But the longer she watched him living, breathing, in high-definition, the more her thoughts staggered around whether he'd ever cared about her and her mother at all.

When a woman sauntered into the frame, deep-skinned and pretty-faced—a toddler snuggled in her arm—she got her answer. She had to close her eyes. It was all she could do to keep herself from bursting into a teary fit in front of everyone. She opened them again seconds later, eyeline wet but only slightly so.

It was just in time for her to spot the woman placing a plate of pecans on his desk, and a kiss on the cheek. Rhoawyn wanted to look away, couldn't fully process the fact that her father, the person she'd looked up to her entire life, had found love in a woman that wasn't her mother. She couldn't process the fact that he'd replaced her with another child.

So she stopped trying altogether and zeroed in on the pecans.

Logic, not emotion.

Pecans had always been a favorite of his when she was growing up. It was one of the few low-number delicacies they were allowed before he got a number increase.

Seeing them there, in a place he was being held captive, made gears in Rhoawyn's head turn. Why would people who have captured him and want to do him harm allow him to have things he likes? Why would they be allowed to live at all?

Rhoawyn mulled the questions over as her eyes flitted to that familiar green. The green of his coat, a green she had come to love, to respect, as it clung to his shoulders. He was working on something. That must be why they are keeping him here, in a lab.

His eyes poured over the contents of a concoction. It was thick and slimy in texture. When he lifted the beaker to observe the liquid in motion, Rhoawyn had already accepted that it was him on an intellectual level—on a logical level. But when she saw the clovered birthmark on his hand, everything became too real to bear.

The knots in Rhoawyn's stomach knit so tightly her legs almost gave out. Eli, sensing her distress, wrapped a firm arm around her waist and held her steady.

Eli looked at her with eyes swimming with the worry, "What's wrong?" When Rhoawyn didn't immediately answer, he followed her gaze to the screen and his brow creasing. "Do you know this guy?"

When Rhoawyn mustered enough strength to tear her eyes from the screen and look into Eli's, she couldn't find the right words to confirm that yes, I know him, he's my father.

He was her father that should be long Departed, long dead, but was instead living another life. Living with a new wife. A new child. She and her mother were afterthoughts.

"He's my..." Rhoawyn started, fists clenching.

"He's our creator."

Rhoawyn shot her head in the direction of the voice that interrupted her. She knew that voice. It was colder now—hardened—but it was definitely the right person. When that person appeared from behind the screen, ending the live-stream with a light tap to a remote, Rhoawyn can't help but think her entire life is a lie.