The Persistence of Memory | ✔

19

19

Nina pulled her coat closer around herself as she stood on the side of the road with a cheap phone in her hand and uncertainty in her heart. A car drove past her, stirring up a cold breeze that almost felt like a slap. Above her, the sky had turned darker, making it feel much later than it actually was.

All of this barely caught Nina's attention as she focused on the device in her hand, the plastic feeling warmer after being held for so long. Even so, she couldn't make up her mind.

I shouldn't call anyone, she told herself, trying to reason her way to an answer. It's too late to involve anyone.

Nina was well aware of that. She knew just how risky it was, especially after the people at SEIN had realized she'd taken Fearnley's medical records. She would be surprised if they hadn't already questioned her friends—her family.

Her father came to mind. Her father, who lived alone because she couldn't bear to live in a house filled with memories of her mother. Nina felt her mouth go dry, felt a pain in her heart as she wondered what he would think if he knew of the mess she'd gotten herself into.

"Sometimes, you have to do what's right, even if it's difficult. And it usually is!" Her father had laughed when he told her that, and Nina had smiled along with him. That was before she'd known just how right he was.

He would understand.

The thought, along with the memory of his voice, were enough to get Nina to dial a familiar number. She held her breath as the phone rang, each sound seeming to stretch for far too long and the pause between them like a void. After what seemed like an eternity, someone on the other end of the line picked up.

"Hello?" the word was spoken with some caution that Nina was sure came from having a call from an unknown number. Still, it was good to hear her father's voice.

"Dad, it's me," Nina said, struggling to keep her tone even.

"Nina? Why do you have a different number?"

That was enough to tell Nina that her dad knew nothing of what was going on. Later, she would wonder what had made the authorities keep her father in the dark—or maybe it had been SEIN who'd wanted it that way. Whatever the case, Nina was just happy to be able to hear a familiar voice.

"Yeah, I lost my phone," she said with a forced laugh, hoping he wouldn't notice. "I guess I've just been distracted with work. Kind of lost track of where I left the damned thing."

"Sounds like you needed more time off," her dad said. Nina wasn't surprised. He'd always stressed how she should take care, not overwork herself. She smiled a bit at the thought, the first time she'd done so in what felt like an eternity.

"I'm fine, dad. Just as tired as usual," she lied. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, so now you're checking up on me?"

"Well, someone has to." Nina felt lighter as she spoke to her dad, some of the exhaustion that had persisted for so long fading away with each word her dad spoke. She heard her dad chuckle a bit and nearly laughed herself.

"I'm alright. You know hardly anything changes around here."

"You can't blame me for asking," Nina said. She thought of her hometown, of the quiet streets and the familiar faces that only grew older as time passed, hardly changing as if the place were frozen in time. She supposed that applied to her dad as well. He was still there, in that home he'd made for his family, with the same knick knacks lining the mantel and photos framed on the wall. Nothing had change, and for once, Nina was glad for that much.