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She was a young brunette.
“Hello, please. I'm here to see James Norman.”
She plastered a practiced smile on her face. “Just a minute.”
I held my breath as she tapped away on the small system. “James Norman….. Right.”
She grabbed the telephone beside the computer, but before she could press any button, I quickly interrupted.
“No, please. Don't call him.”
She eyed me wearily, holding the phone away from her ear but not putting it down.
“Ma’am, we may be a cheap motel, but we still have policies in place to protect—”
“I know, trust me. But please… don't call him. He doesn't want to see me right now. There was a bit of misunderstanding at home and…just please,” I explained.
She raised a brow. “Your name?”
“Evie Norman.”
“Daughter?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“That doesn't still mean I should let you in. But I will.” She dropped the phone.
“Because you look distressed. Room 42.” She gestured in a direction.
“Thank you. Thank you.” I rushed out and sprinted towards the direction.
I climbed the stairs and slowed down when I reached the room number.
My heart hammered in my chest as I inhaled a long breath.
What did I even want to say? Apologies?
I was thankful to whatever was in the sky when he opened the door without asking for my name.
He frowned when he saw me. Guilt wrenched my soul. “Dad,” I breathed.
He clenched his jaws. “I said don't —”
“Please let me in.”
I didn't want to hear his words the second time.
He seemed to be contemplating.
“Please…”
After a few seconds, he let me in.
I didn't have time to look at the musty interior when I turned to him.
“Why are you here?”
I winced at the coldness in his voice. “I can't… not be here.”
