“So can you contact her?” The officer asked us.

“Um…well, actually we lost all communication after they split.”

That was true but I wasn’t sure if he could see through our other lies, but he didn’t question us again. “Okay,” he said, scribbling a few notations on a clipboard he was holding. “Well, he said. “Let’s go see your father, shall we?”

I looked over at Hannah who had seemed to have become beet-red in the last fifteen minutes. We went up the elevator to the sixth floor until we reached a room, numbered 641.

Insided, it was stuffy and dusty. Like most hospital rooms, you could hear the beeping of the machines. I took a step inside, a figure was lying in the bed near the window.

“Dad?” My voice, only a meek whisper. When his face became visible, I realized that he was crying.

“I’m sorry, girls, forgive me.”

Sorry for what?