Departing

“Do you have to go?”

Well, I guess I could’ve ignored the mandate. Or sent a decoy to go in my place and hid in Darcy’s room. I could’ve even taken my case to court and fought to keep both my daughter and my home.

But all I did was stroke Darcy’s head and say “Sorry, kiddo” before the escorts led me to the train.

“Who were you just talking to?” one asked me gruffly.

“My daughter,” I said.

The sanitarium was dirtier than I imagined. “Watch this one,” the escort told somebody. “He talks to people who aren’t there.”