Daughter of Zeus ✔

14

Ada didn't disclose her State encounter with anyone. Weeks went by, and she didn't ask Kressick or Moretz what was what. There was a reason behind her hesitancy. Once she asked her questions, her mission timetable would move up considerably. No more afternoons, or nights, with Phennell. No more of the city she was starting to fall in love with. Once she spoke of the State encounter, my hat'd be over the wall, and there would be no going back.

Her mother's condition remained unchanged. Ada continued calling Cybil every day, in hopes Gemina had woken. Kressick bothered her for updates, always looking disappointed at the news of her continued coma. Cybil reminded Ada of additional hospital fees requiring payment, which in turn reminded her of the other reason for contacting Moretz.

Through Kressick, she set up an informal lunch between the three of them. His presence was necessary, both to hold her back and to alleviate the tension between father and daughter. Even still, tension reigned for the first fifteen minutes. They sat under the pavilion in the backyard, surrounded by blossoming trees, flowers, and the mid-afternoon sun.

Kressick clacked utensils around, sipped loudly on mimosas, and fed the small talk Ada detested. As the lunch dragged on, she nearly lost her nerve. Could she really ask for such an amount? Then Moretz caught her eye, flashed a smile, and she caught the moment.

"I spoke to the hospital today," she left out any mention of Cybil, "and my mom's condition is unchanged."

Moretz's smile slid, and he nodded. "Ah yes. Gemina received a second synth heart, right? I hope she'll recover in time."

He covered her hand with his, followed by a pat.

She allowed the contact. "Her recovery would be guaranteed, if only we could afford the payments for her stay."

Running water from nearby fountains underscored the silence.

Moretz crossed and uncrossed his legs, shifting away from Ada. "How much do you need?"

She shrugged and shared the amount.

Upon hearing it, Kressick coughed, taking big gulps of the mimosa.

"Bringing up a number like that, in such a way, tells me you've done your research," Moretz said.

She popped a grape in her mouth. For most of the lunch, she hadn't touched the food on her plate.

He went on, "If you had researched further, you would know I donate larger sums than that every year. I'd be happy to pay for Gemina's care. The least I could do for you both, really."

He graced her with another fake grin.

She forced a civil answer: "Thank you."

She sounded monotone, but Kressick made a noise of approval anyway.

"Hopefully, we can move past any misunderstandings and begin to build a future together," Moretz intoned.

She recalled him saying the same thing during a recorded speech two years ago at the governor's ball. Once a politician, always a politician.

"Let's toast to family, forgiveness, and good health." Kressick brought up his nearly empty glass.

Moretz and Ada joined in, clinking glasses and never taking eyes off one another.

Lunch was concluded shortly after, and she rode back to her grandfather's townhome.

During the short ride, he commented on his son's actions. "That was rather nice of Brontes. I knew he would do the right thing."

"I'll believe it when he pays out," Ada replied.

Four hours later, her wristlet buzzed, prompting a message splay across her skin. She held out her arm to read it.

Thank you for the latest payment in regards to Gemina Freyr.

Current account balance: $0.

Have a blessed day, Citizen!

The hospital missives had never ended so cordially before. The administrators were happy now that they had their money. As for Ada, she had to re-read the message several times before she absorbed its meaning. Her mother was free, no Amnesty or threat of the alienating N.A. status. Gemina might actually have a chance to recover.

Ada had her chance, too, to finish the mission. Moretz, idiot that he was, had done as she asked, and now he was expendable. His charity had proved him kind or smart, but not both. Killing a kind man seemed...unfair. He had damaged her, abandoned her, but that was years ago, and he did seem like a different person.

A part of her railed against any hint of forgiveness. Another part of her calmed the crazy by promising an honest assessment of her father, not a swift move to perdition.

Even bastards deserve a fair shake.