Sometimes a girl just needs her dad. When everything's going wrong and she's convinced she's going to fail out of medical school and she feels like she's going to cry... Martha's mother will tell her everything she's doing wrong, offer helpful suggestions that just make her want to cry more. Martha's dad will just listen quietly as she rants, and tell her it's going to be alright, and offer to take her out to dinner or something.

That's what fathers are for.

You're not supposed to call your father and end up getting his stupid blond girlfriend on the line. "Hello?"

Martha draws in a breath, trying to remain calm, trying not to burst into tears right there, because she doesn't want to talk to anyone but her dad just now. "Hi, Annalise. Is Dad there?"

"Uh... I think he's busy... Maybe you could leave a message?"

"No, thanks, that's fine." It's not fine, but what else is she supposed to say? She hangs up the phone, a little harder than necessary, and after a moment of thought picks it up again and slams it into the receiver a little harder, just for good measure.

So much for being daddy's little girl, for fathers making everything better for just a little while. Martha really hates this part of growing up.