The red-haired agent – what was her name again? Kim hadn't really been paying attention when she'd stepped off the elevator into the heat of scores of eyes trying not to look at her, nor during the long walk down the bland office hallway, the echo of two sets of dress shoes tapping a syncopated rhythm below the drone of the agent's summary of the events leading to this point.

Kim had known. She'd known as soon as the phone rang. She was only surprised that it had taken this long for them to need to contact her. She knew her dad was in Washington. She had watched the first few moments of him settling in for his testimony, turning it off as soon as the questions began. She didn't need to hear any of that. His life was like a car wreck that she had managed to escape, but she still could not tear her eyes away from it. She didn't want to be a part of it, but she had to look.

Later, when she heard the news about the White House and the other attacks, she'd known her dad would find a way to get into the action somehow. He would claim he had no choice, and maybe he didn't. These things seemed to find a way to him no matter what he did.

Jason had been discomfited, leaning against the door frame of the bedroom as she'd packed a bag. He knew Kim had a father, but he was in India, or Africa, or someplace, and never called, never wrote. He'd never met the guy, never even seen a photo. Kim had long ago figured out that it was better not to tell men too much about her family. It was too much to spring on someone the first few dates, and later on it was too big to not have told earlier. She never pretended he was dead though. Not after that first time.

"When will you be back?" He ran a hand through his short brown hair, rumpling it until it stood on end and smoothing it back down again, the way he did when he was thinking.

"I don't know. They said he's pretty sick." She rummaged through a drawer to find the travel-size shampoo and conditioner and sealed them in a zip-lock bag.

"You sure you don't want me to come?"

"I'm sure." Tucking the last pair of socks into the corner of her suitcase, she closed it and heaved it to the floor, extending the handle and rolling it behind her as she made her way to the door. "Thanks for offering." She kissed him lightly. "I'll be okay."

"Okay." Jason pushed off the door frame and grabbed the handle of the suitcase as it passed and carried it to door just as the cab pulled up. "Got your phone?"

She checked her pocket. "Yes. I'll call you tonight."

Renee. That was her name. Agent Renee Walker. Renee held out a hand in a gesture of caution as they reached the grey door at the end of the corridor.

"I should warn you."

Kim shifted her head so her bangs moved away from her eyes, meeting Renee's eyes with a level gaze. "What?"

"There's been some deterioration of his gross motor skills."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he can't stand up."

Kim bit her lip and looked from Renee to the door. Its smooth painted surface didn't reveal anything of what was waiting on the other side. Nor could the person on that side see what was in the corridor. He couldn't stand up. He would hate for her to see him like that. Like this. She could walk away right now, even if he couldn't. Maybe she should.

"Does he know I'm here?"

Renee cleared her throat. "No. We… we weren't sure you would make it in time." Kim read the unspoken thought in the agent's green eyes. They hadn't been sure that she would come. Kim gave a wry smile, lifting her head so the water in her eyes ran down inside her nose instead of spilling onto her cheek.

"Yeah." Her fingertips brushed the top of the door knob and hovered.

"How is he, otherwise?"

Renee swallowed and looked down. "It's been twelve hours. He's not bad, considering. He's lucid." She met Kim's eyes again. "We don't know for how much longer."

Great. They'd be able to have the conversation. The one they'd been having for years. The last goodbyes they'd said to each other over and over, sometimes with love and sorrow, sometimes with anger. She'd grieved for him already. Why was she here?

Because really, this time, it was true.

Kim exhaled and, grasping the handle firmly, she opened the door and stepped through.