Threshold (Old Version)

Chapter Ten

7:14 AM. Late enough to get up.

I pulled the wrinkled sheets off her legs and slipped out of bed. Another sleepless night… One of far too many. I pushed a hand through my knotted hair. Sleep had been a safe haven—One I’d never appreciated; one that’s privacy had now been compromised. One I no longer seemed able to enjoy. My thoughts had battled all night—some eager to meet Malachi in the dream world, others concerned with the apology left on Father’s desk, and the rest trying to forget.

It’d been two days since I’d seen Malachi: a day and a night, really. All the sleep I’d managed had been shallow, and visiting the lab in person wasn’t really an option. The conversation had slipped into the realm of fuzzy fantasies—repression working its magic.

 Words from the apology letter trickled back to my mind—lies and falsities that could only be believed by someone who didn’t know his daughter. Isaac G. Blackwell didn’t know his daughter. The pilgrimage to his office in the middle of the night had been torturous, and I couldn’t help the feeling that I was giving up on any hope of being a proper family. The betrayal wasn’t so much aimed towards my father as it was the idea that we could have had a real relationship. But Isaac G. Blackwell didn’t know his daughter, and perhaps it was best that way.

I slipped out of my room, passing the grand stairs in order to sneak by Sylvia. There was too much paperwork to risk getting roped into visiting the bookstore, or my grandma, or anywhere else that could be deemed “healthier” than staying home.

The gentle hum of activity filled the hall as I neared the offices. “Father must be up already,” I muttered to myself, not really paying attention to the idea. Routine had taken over as I began to list what still needed to be done: the mail needed sorted, a meeting with the human resources department needed to be scheduled, a stack of delivery notices needed catalogued—and the list continued.

I stepped into the outer office, formulating an attack plan, too preoccupied to really take a look around.

“Scarlett?”

I jumped to alertfulness, my gaze immediately locking on a young woman standing behind my desk.  

“Amy?”

My father’s official secretary stopped by occasionally, either to drop something off or inquire about a proposed event, but never without notifying me or at least waiting till later in the day.

“What are you doing here?”

“Your father called me in. He said you were no longer available to assist him here… anyway, obviously he hasn’t gone over the changes with you yet. He did say to send you in as soon as you came in, though.” She smiled. I’d always found the 20-something brunette to be pleasant, always helpful and joyful. I’d never quite figured out why she seemed so happy, especially being my father’s secretary.

“Thanks… is he in now?”

“Yup! By the way, do you know where those delivery reports are?”

“Wire bin, below that envelope,” I said, pointing. The cold started in my extremities, bringing goose bumps. By the time I touched the doorknob to my father’s office, my brain had frozen over, leaving just a numb void. There were no thoughts. Just protocol. Just turn the nob, walk in.

“You asked for me?” Someone else’s words slipped from my lips, and someone else’s command focused my eyes on the man in front of me.

“Yes, Scarlett, I called Miss Fontenot to relieve you,” my father replied with a business tone. “You should probably help Miss Fontenot become acquainted with the office for the morning. I’m heading in to the office, but you should be free to start down in the lab later today. You’ll need some training, of course, but I don’t anticipate it shall take too long.”