The clock above the whiteboard ticked softly, interrupting the clunky, off-beat symphony of coughs, throat-clearings, and sniffles from the twenty students arranged in rows of desks in the classroom. The professor peered wryly over her glasses as she observed the students taking their last and hardest test of the year. Sarah held her head in one hand as she tapped her pencil against the maple vinyl covering the desk and gazed out of the window to her right. Her test half-finished, she concentrated on remembering exactly the words the goblin king had spoken in her dream the night before. My deal will only stand for a short time, he had said. Sarah felt her throat tighten. Her skin practically crawled and an anxiety slowly constrained her ribcage. She looked back down at her paper, the words blurring before her swimming eyes. She took a deep breath and quickly circled random answers for the remaining portion of her test. Standing abruptly, she threw the test down in front of the professor and ran from the room. She didn't care if she failed. She wouldn't be around for at least the next year anyway.

The drive to the hospital seemed to go by faster than usual. All the stoplights were green, paving the way toward her sad fate. She rehearsed exactly what she would say to her father, memorizing it like a monologue for a play. Only it wasn't a play, it was real life. And she had to say goodbye, somehow.

It began to rain lightly, sprinkles spattering the windshield. She parked in an empty parking garage a half-mile from the hospital and decided to walk the rest of the way there. She walked slowly, but with focus. Father, I'm going away for a while. She winced. Her heart was full. Father, I'm going away for a year.

The hospital loomed up before her, the roof taller than usual and threatening against the backdrop of the rainy sky. She shivered as if she stood before Dracula's castle. A few deep breaths later and she was in the elevator.

The doors opened with a soft hum and she practically crawled to her father's room. He was paler than normal, one hand clutching a tissue that he began coughing into as soon as she entered the room. His eyes lit up when he saw her and he waved silently with his free hand as he coughed deeply. Finally done, he cleared his throat and said, "Hi, Sarah, how was the final?"

Tears were already starting to form in the corners of her eyes. She held them back and worked up a smile.

"It went really well," she answered, "I think I passed."

"That's great, honey," Robert smiled, "Only one year left."

Sarah shifted her weight to one foot and looked down at the speckled linoleum.

"Actually, it might be a bit longer," she said quietly.

Robert's brow furrowed, his look of fatherly concern overwhelming her. A small tear slipped through. He saw it, of course. "Sarah, honey, what's wrong?"

She sat down slowly in the lilac armchair next to his bed and took his hand. "It's just, one of my professors told me about this great opportunity she thinks I'd be interested in," Sarah stalled, searching his eyes for expression, "And it would be really great for me dad, for my future and everything."

"Well, what is it?" he asked, excitedly.

"It would be traveling to a remote part of South America and doing field work there, only they don't have cell service there and mail would take forever to get to you and I don't know if that's something I can do," she let out with a slight whimper to her voice. Another tear fell.

Robert's face softened and he gripped her hand tighter.

"Oh, Sarah," he consoled, "You don't have to worry about me. This would be good for your career! Think of the opportunity. How many undergraduate cultural anthropologists get to say they did something like this in their first four years of college! Honey, you have to do it."

Sarah smiled softly at his show of support. She patted his hand gently. "It would be for a whole year, dad."

His expression shifted, like he had been hit unexpectedly. He hadn't anticipated that. "Oh," he mouthed, turning slightly in his hospital bed, "When does this trip start?"

"This weekend," she said, "The trip was full and she had a cancelation. The spot is mine if I want it."

Robert stared at the floor, obviously ill at ease. Sarah released his hand, her eyes turned away from him. "See, it's too much," she said.

"Oh honey, no. I just didn't' expect that," he explained. "If this is going to be good for you, then you should do it. And I…" he trailed off, eyes searching hers, "I will hold on until you get back. I owe you that."

Sarah held back her tears and stood up, leaned over him and kissed his forehead.

"I have a feeling you're going to get better very soon," she whispered.

"I love you, Sarah." he said.

"I love you too, Dad."

The last few days went by quickly for Sarah and her father. She wished his situation wasn't so dire, that he wasn't showing signs of fading. Maybe then, she could've stalled the inevitable. But his skin was graying; he was coughing deeper and deeper every day. She saw him slipping away from her and it frightened her. If she didn't act quickly, he would be gone.

Her bags were packed, her credit cards and bank account frozen. All of her belongings were in storage. Her friends thought she was taking her father to a remote cancer-treatment facility for a year. She had covered all her bases. She drove to the hospital for the last time, luggage swaying in the trunk along the rain-covered road. It hadn't stopped raining for three days. She pulled up to the hospital and went up to her father's room. It was time to say goodbye.

He was smiling when she entered, even though he knew it was her last day in town. He hugged her tightly when she came over to his bedside.

"My little girl is going on such a big adventure. I wish I could come with you," he sighed.

"I don't think the weather would agree with you much, dad," she laughed, "You always did love the cold."

He gazed at her with shining eyes, "I would be happy wherever you are."

She shook her head at him, "Things will get better soon, I promise. And I'll write, although I can't promise the letters will make it."

"I'm sure you'll do everything you can," he said.

"I will." she nodded.

"When does your flight leave?" he asked.

"In a couple of hours. I'm going to take the car to the house and leave it there. I'll take a cab to the airport," she explained.

"Well, if I magically get the urge to get out of this bed, I'll go make sure the Broden boys down the street aren't egging your little Prius," he chuckled.

She laughed with him. Their voices quieted and a solemnity took hold of the room. They both sensed it was time for her to go. Sarah hugged him tightly.

"I have to go now, dad," she whispered.

He hugged her back fiercely. "I love you so much, sweetheart. Please be safe over there."

"I will." She promised. She walked toward the door, looking back at him for what felt like the last time.

"I love you, dad," she said.

And then she was gone.