"I don't know what to do" Don Flack sobbed and his father patted him on the back.
"You have to be strong" his father told him and Don let out a hysterical sob.
"How can I be? They murdered her in cold blood...I can't let that happen to my daughter" Don said. He was sat in the Flack household on the sofa in the living room. His father, Donald Flack Sr. was sat next to his son, comforting him in his time of need.
"I know son...I know" his father comforted him. Don was leaning forward, his body failing to support itself.
"Every time I look at her I see Em...how can I do it dad?" Don said and he looked up at his father, begging him to tell him the answer.
"You can't son...you can't raise the girl up on your own. I'm in no fit state to help you...maybe you should..." his father trailed off, he was unsure of how to tell his son what he thought he should do.
"What?" Don asked and his father sighed.
"Send her to boarding school Don..." he said and Don began to shake his head.
"I can't do that" he said.
"Think about it son...whoever killed Emily wants your daughter dead next. This is no place for her to be Don...it would be for her safety" Donald Sr. said and Don thought about what his old man had just said. The note had said he would make Don pay so surely they would come after his daughter. He didn't want that for her. He wanted her to be safe and with him...but whenever he saw her he saw the love of his life.
"Where would she go?" Don asked and he sat up and began to dry his eyes. He couldn't cry over the serious issue like this.
"England Don...she can't stay in the State whilst her life is in danger" his father said and Don nodded. He was twenty one. He was twenty one and a widower. He had just begun his career in the NYPD and he needed to keep it to keep providing income. He couldn't look after his child. Not without Emily.
"And how can I afford it? How can I afford to send her there?" Don asked. He was barely making enough to pay his rent.
"I have some money...I'll pay for it" his father said but Don shook his head.
"I don't want to lose her" Don said, going back on the idea of the plan.
"Donald. Every year thousands of children go to boarding school. You can visit her anytime you want and speak to her frequently. She is not safe as long as that psycho is on the loose and you're in no fit state to provide for her. It's for the best Don" his father promised him and Don nodded. He kept telling himself it was for the best. It was for her. He would do it.
...
The ride to the airport was silent. Neither Don or his daughter spoke. He wasn't even flying over to England with her. Apparently it wouldn't be safe for him to be with her, that way the psycho might follow them. He pulled her case out of the cab and looked down upon her little three year old face and then he looked away. She looked the same as her mother. Don silently led her into the airport where he found the officer who was taking his daughter.
"Flack" he greeted and Don nodded before heading over to check in. Finally the time for Don to let his daughter go came. She was a toddler and off to boarding school. He hated himself for this. Truly hated himself. He bent down to her height and laid a kiss on her forehead, her smooth forehead, trying to stop himself from crying.
"I'll see you soon Hannah...I promise" he said and the little girl looked up at him. Surprisingly she didn't cry as the officer took her through customs and away from her father. He said he would see her soon.
Thirteen years later
He was calling me again. I knew it was him. I didn't even have to look at the caller ID. I didn't pick the phone up; instead I just left it sat on my bed, playing out the Nokia ring tune to itself. I didn't want to talk to him. I never wanted to talk to him. I know I may sound like a horrible brat but I can't stand talking to him. I couldn't say I hate him but I do strongly dislike him and everything he did to me. The phone eventually stopped and I returned to the English essay I was doing for my coursework. Of course after a few more moments it began to ring again and once again I ignored it.
"I'll see you later Hannah...I promise"
His words were always paying in my head. All the time. He had lied to me. They caught whoever had killed my mother and still he didn't come back. He claimed that I was receiving a good education over here in England and he didn't want to disrupt that and take me back to New York. They had caught Steven Thomas five years ago. And I was still stuck in Hatton's boarding school for girls. The phone eventually stopped ringing and I returned to my laptop again only to be disturbed a few minutes later by a knock on the door to my room. I stood up and walked over to my door to see Miss Howard stood there, with a phone in her hand.
"Miss Flack...it's your father. He wants to speak to you" she told me and I rolled my eyes.
"Tell him I'm busy" I said and walked back into my room, leaving the door open.
"Mr..." she began and then I heard someone speak on the other end of the phone "Sorry...Detective Flack, you're daughter says she is busy"
"Miss Flack...he is adamant to speak to you" she said and I groaned before taking the phone from her outstretched hand.
"Hello" I said down the phone and Miss Howard took her leave after mouthing at me to return to phone to reception when I had finished.
"Hannah, why didn't you pick up your phone?" he asked, sounding mildly angry at me. That was all I got. A visit a year and a phone call a month from him.
"It's on silent. Like I said I'm busy" I lied through my teeth and then sat down on my bed.
"Well next time pick it up. I worried about you" he said and I snorted.
"Okay dad" I said sarcastically
"Hannah. Regardless of what you think, I do care" he said, at least he had the decency to sound hurt.
"You care enough that you only see me once a year and don't want me home. Doesn't sound like caring" I spat at him. Jesus Christ he pissed me off.
"Hannah. I told you that you are getting a good education in England. Don't argue with me" he said seriously.
"I know dad. I have to go, I'm busy" I said and he sighed.
"You're always busy. You trying to tell me something Han?" he asked and I cringed at the nickname he used for me. He didn't have the right to give me a nickname.
"You only just getting the message?" I asked him patronisingly
"Don't be like that Hannah. I'm your father" he said, authority dominating his voice. Oh, and now he was off into cop mode on me.
"By blood only" I hissed
"I can't talk to you when you're in an unreasonable mood Hannah" he told me sadly.
"Fine with me" I said and I hung up on him. Then I began to cry. I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to come over to England and try and be a father. But I knew he couldn't. I knew he hated me. He hated me because I looked like mum.