The Remedy (The Program 0.5)(96)

“She stole me from my family?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know where she found you. And I don’t know what Arthur Pritchard had to do with it—why you fit so well.” He presses his lips into a watery smile. “Although you won’t believe this,” he says, “I do love you, Quinn. I raised you. You’re my daughter.”

“Don’t call me that,” I say, fiercely. “My name’s not Quinn.”

“You can’t see this now, but there are bigger things happening, things I’ve tried to protect you from. Same with Marie.” He hesitates, but continues. “I’ve signed a confidentiality agreement—a pretty severe one—so I can’t give you more information. But I need you to know that the department doesn’t plan to let you walk away. They never did. They have custody of you until you’re eighteen, but even after that, they plan to transition you.”

“What?” I ask. “How is that—”

“You’re a ward of the state,” he says. “You all are.”

I don’t have a family, I think. I don’t belong to anybody. Maybe in some way I knew this. It could be why I’ve felt so lost, so alone. “And what the hell does the department plan to ‘transition’ me into?” I demand.

My father shakes his head. “That I don’t know. But I’ve tried to protect you, institute rules when I thought they would keep you safe. The department will keep pushing you as a closer. Find ways to make you agree. Marie was angry with me for letting you sign the latest contract, and when she found that you’re expected to sign the next one, she begged me to stop them. But I don’t have that power.”

“Who does?”

“Arthur Pritchard, maybe. But he’s just one man. In the end, we’re at the mercy of a board of directors. A corporation.”

“Then what do you suggest?” I ask, even though he’s the last person I should be taking advice from. Guess it’s old habit.

“You should run,” he says. “Take whatever I have. It’s not much, but I can’t get your contract money, not without setting off red flags. I’m sorry I failed you.”

I can leave it all behind, leave the department, my father . . . if I can still call him that. I’m a danger to everyone around me—a bargaining chip the department could use against them. I’ll have to leave everything behind. Even Deacon. Especially Deacon.

Scared, paranoid, I stand, grabbing my bag and pulling it over my shoulder. My father quickly takes out his wallet and hands it to me. “There’s isn’t much,” he says. “The credit cards will give you a head start, though. Take out a cash advance, the pin number is our address. I won’t report them stolen, but when you don’t show up at Marie’s for debriefing, then—”

“Marie’s gone,” I tell him. “Aaron, too.”

He rocks back, absorbing this information. “Oh. That’s good, I suppose.”

His most trusted confidant left him without a word. If there’s anyone who knows what it feels like to be alone, he’s sitting right in front of me. I take his wallet and stuff it into my bag. Before he got here, I dreamed of telling him to rot in hell. Telling him I don’t need anything from him—he’s done enough. But I can’t erase the time I’ve spent here, the love I have for him. Even if I hate him right now.

And the truth is I’m terrified of being on my own. I know how to assimilate, how to blend in. But I’m not going to live some quiet life in the country. I’m going to find Virginia Pritchard. And after I talk to her, if  I can talk to her, I’m going straight to her father for answers. But I can’t do any of that without money.

I readjust my bag and glance around the living room, the one that’s looked exactly the same my entire life, to always remind me. Remind me that I’m real. But even that was a forgery. It’s the most devastating feeling in the world. Knowing that I don’t exist. I died when I was six years old.

My heart is heavy as I walk to the front door, my boots cracking the glass on the floor. Just as I reach out for the door handle, I hear my father’s voice.

“You were always my daughter,” he says. “I know you’re hurt right now; you have every right to be. But I do love you. I swear to you I do.”

I flinch with grief, but force my face straight and turn to look back at him, watch as he bites hard on his lip to hold in his cry. The man I’ve known only as my father. How many times has he wanted to tell me the truth? To tell me about his real daughter?

And I realize that if I wanted to, I could give my father closure. He’s never had to accept the loss of Quinlan McKee until right now. I can make it easier, tell him it’ll be okay. Tell him I forgive him. A good person would forgive him.

I’m not that good.

“You’re not my father,” I say instead, bitter. Hurt. He dissolves, but before I have to listen to his cries, I walk out the front door into the cool night. I pull out the keys to my car, knowing I’ll leave it at the bus station. I don’t want to be tracked. I’ll find Virginia. Last Aaron heard, she was in Roseburg. So I guess that’s where I’ll start.

I shiver once in the cold and then tighten my coat around me. I look back at my house and worry briefly how my father will get along without me. But then I remind myself about what he’s done and harden my heart against him. Promising to never let him in again. Refuse to give him any more power over me.