She stood outside Metropolis airport, drenched to the bone, her dark curls clinging to her face and shoulders. Three hours in the relentless rain, hoping her father would show up.
Hope.
It was cruel, always setting her up for the same disappointment.
It's always the same, isn't it, Dad?
Valerie had grown accustomed to this pattern.
Fifteen years of waiting for a man who could never fully face her, not after her mother's death. The pain in his eyes whenever he looked at her was a reminder that she was both a cherished daughter and a painful memory. Her brother told her not to take it personally, but how could she not? Her very presence was a reminder of his loss.
How don't you take it personally?
Whenever your father sees your face, it reminds him of the love of his life.
When Valerie was abducted for a month of darkness and torture, she clung to the hope that her father was looking for her. That he wanted to save her from the agony she was enduring.
But he didn't.
Valerie pressed her phone to her ear, her gaze dropping to her knee-length brown leather boots as the icy rain pelted down. "Where are you?"
"Oh, honey, Braxton didn't tell you?" Her father's voice came through the line, too casual, too distant. "I'm not coming until tomorrow."
A surge of anger flared within her, mingled with a familiar sense of resignation. "No, he didn't."
"I told him last night. The board meeting and negotiations in London are taking longer than I thought."
Valerie closed her eyes, trying to keep her emotions in check. "It's fine," she said, though her eyes flickered between brown and purple behind her lids. "I'm used to it."
"Now, that's not fair, honey," he said, sounding more annoyed than apologetic. "I'm trying here."
She hugged her arms around herself, feeling the chill seep into her bones. "I'll believe it when I see it."
