Chapter 10: Have You Seen Adrian?

At nine the next morning, Rosalie arrives at Hudson State Correctional Facility.

She leaves her phone and purse in a locker, presents her identification, and passes through security before an officer escorts her to a visitation booth.

She confirmed the visit before flying back from France.

Rosalie takes the assigned seat.

The chair beyond the thick glass is empty, and the digital timer on the wall is already set for thirty minutes.

She watches the closed door, fingers tightening around the receiver.

Five years.

Her father has been absent from her life for five years, yet sitting here makes her feel like the frightened girl outside the hotel all over again.

The steel door opens.

A middle-aged man in a state-issued uniform enters with an officer.

Rosalie recognizes him immediately, though prison has taken much of the father she remembers.

Richard Hayes used to carry a little extra weight around his middle.

Now the uniform hangs from his thinner frame. His hair is cropped close, nearly white at the temples, and deep lines mark his face.

Five years have made him look much older than he should have.

Richard sees her and stops.

For a moment, father and daughter only stare at each other through the glass.

Then he sits and lifts the receiver.

“Rosie.”

Her eyes sting. “Hi, Dad.”

He studies her, his eyes slowly reddening even as he smiles. “You’ve gotten thin.”

Rosalie manages a laugh. “Look who’s talking. You barely have a chin anymore.”

“That’s age. Being lean is healthy at my age.” He rubs his jaw as if proving the point. “I’m doing fine, sweetheart. Better than I look.”

Before she can answer, he asks, “How’s your mother? Is she well?”

“She’s doing well. She’s settled into life in France. She grows flowers, visits friends, and goes into Paris whenever there’s a show she wants to see.”

“She always loved fashion.” Relief softens his face. “I’m glad.”

The timer drops to twenty-six minutes.

Richard glances toward the empty chair beside Rosalie. “She didn’t come with you?”

“Her blood pressure has been high, and her doctor doesn’t want her taking a long flight yet. I came ahead to deal with a few things.” Rosalie hesitates. “When you’re released in August, she’ll come back to meet you.”

The truth is that Catherine is in France caring for Aiden. Rosalie is not ready to tell her father about him.

Richard goes still. “She’s willing to see me?”

“Dad, she never filed for divorce. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

He lowers his head, moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes.

Catherine has never visited, but every holiday, books and permitted necessities arrive under Rosalie’s name. Richard knows who chooses most of them.

After decades of marriage, some wounds cannot be erased with an apology, but Catherine has never stopped caring whether he is warm or well.

“I failed both of you,” he says.

“Tell Mom yourself when you get out.” Rosalie looks at the timer. “Have you decided where you’ll live afterward? Here or in France?”

“I should go home first.” He thinks for a moment. “After that, your mother and I can talk. If she doesn’t want me near her, I won’t force myself into her life.”

“If she didn’t want you there, she wouldn’t be coming back.”

Richard smiles, though uncertainty remains in his eyes. “We’ll see.”

When fourteen minutes remain, he finally asks the question he has been avoiding.

“Have you seen Adrian?”

Rosalie’s fingers tighten around the receiver.

Last night returns without warning: Adrian’s body over hers, his hand beneath the blanket, the fierce embrace before she fell asleep.

She lowers her eyes. “Yes.”

“How is he?”

“He’s doing well. Mercer Biotech has become one of the city’s most important companies.” She pauses. “He also recovered the patent for Dr. Mercer’s leukemia drug. Phase 3 is complete, and the company is preparing the FDA submission.”

Richard’s face brightens. “He got the patent back?”

“He did. If the review goes well, the drug may finally reach patients.”

“Good. That’s good.”

His smile deepens the lines around his eyes. The drug had been Peter Mercer’s life’s work.

His life’s work.

Something in Richard’s expression changes. The happiness fades, leaving him staring at the receiver in his hand.

Rosalie taps the glass to pull him back. “You’ve asked about Mom. You’ve asked about Adrian. Aren’t you going to ask about your favorite daughter?”

Richard laughs. “All right. How has my favorite daughter been?”

She lifts her chin, suddenly looking like the little girl who once ran home with every award she won.

“I’m a senior high-jewelry designer for a major luxury house. I’ve won international awards, and I make enough to take care of Mom and myself.”

“I always knew you’d make something of yourself.”

“Of course I did.”

The timer reaches ten minutes.

Richard looks at it, then says, “The spring memorial at St. Gabriel’s is coming up. Visit Peter and Helen for me.”

“I will.”

“Peter kept several bottles of his favorite single malt for your wedding. Take one with you—or at least pour him a drink. He’d complain if everyone else had one and he didn’t.” Richard smiles at the memory. “Ask your mother which flowers Helen liked. She’ll remember.”

Rosalie nods. “I’ll call her tonight.”

The timer continues counting down between them. For the first time since she arrived, Rosalie wishes the glass were not there.