"Oh," Eden said. "Well, do you know why he left?"
He studied Eden for a minute and I instinctively grabbed her hand. The man glanced down quickly at our joined hands and then back up to her face. "Wife and daughter was murdered," he said, a note of sadness in his voice. He shook his head. "Been a long time, but . . . sure was a sad case."
"Yes," Eden said softly. "So that's why he left then?"
The man coughed again and then said, "Nah, they fired him - years later, though. They kept it hush-hush. Let him resign. But the real truth is that he got fired. He took a turn after that crime. Always spoutin' off in his classes, scaring the students, saying weird stuff about gods talking to him. He was always taking leaves of absence and each time he came back, he was crazier than ever. Went out of his head from the tragedy is my guess. He left and I never heard anything about him again."
We both stood staring at him. I nodded. "Right," I said quietly. "Well, thank you for your time. It's been very helpful."
He nodded and we started to turn away. "You look just like him, you know?" he said.
I turned back around. He was staring at me. I frowned and shook my head very slightly. "I'm sorry? Like who?"
"Your father. Worked here in maintenance with me. Up and quit a couple years before Thomas resigned."
My heart slammed to a stop and then resumed beating rapidly. "My . . . what?"
"You're darker in coloring, but you've definitely got his face. Never had any trouble getting ladies, that one." He chuckled a choking, loose sound, but recovered quickly and looked at me with something that looked like regret on his face. "He told me your mama came and took you with her somewhere. That true?"
"What's his name?" I interrupted. "Do you know where we can find him?"
"Oh yeah, I do, but you better be quick about it. My sister works at the hospital. Hospice was called out to his place a while back. Don't figure he has much time left. He's been sick for years. His name is Morris Reed. Thought you were here looking for him, not Thomas." He furrowed his brow and tilted his head as if he'd just delivered bad news.
My heart was still racing in my chest and my thoughts were all jumbled. I was trying to catch up. Morris Reed. Morris Reed. My father was Morris Reed.
The man continued. "He's about a mile from here out on Abaddon Road." He spelled it and then rattled off a street number and then he started to turn and walk away.
"Wait," I said. "Do you know if this man you think is my father—did he know Thomas?"
He shrugged. "Not as far as I knew, but Morris and I didn't associate outside of work much." He looked down, seeming as if he was considering his next words. He looked up at me, that rheumy eye unblinking. "I figure you shouldn't talk ill of the dead, but your father isn't dead quite yet so I'll tell you this—as far as I was concerned, it was best to stay far away from him. Face of some kind of god, but the devil was in his eyes."
I gaped at him. It felt like something cold and thick was dripping down my spine. Suddenly Eden's hand was pulling me and I stumbled behind her, looking back at the man, as we practically ran for the door and out into the bright sunshine of the outside world.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Eden
I pulled Calder out of the building behind me as quickly as my feet could carry me and as fast as I could move while towing his weight. It felt like he was barely being pulled along behind me—he certainly wasn't helping much.
I stopped when we'd gotten outside, the cool fall air welcoming us. My heart was pounding and my throat felt dry. I turned Calder toward me and gazed up into his blank face. "What are you thinking?" I asked. "Are you okay?"
He shook his head slowly, his eyes above my head, gazing absently at something or nothing behind me. "I don't know what to think." His eyes finally moved slowly to my face and he blinked at me as if I looked different to him somehow. "Maybe it's not even true."
"Do you want to find out?" I asked, lowering the volume of my voice almost to a whisper. "This is up to you."
Calder took in a deep breath of air and blew it out slowly, rubbing his eyelid. "Something tells me it's not a good idea."
I bit my lip for a minute. "It could be your only chance. The guy inside said there's not much time." I paused. "Maybe he can tell you your name."
"My name. Yeah," he finally said, glancing down at my belly.
"I'm with you," I said, taking his hand in mine. "I'm here. And someone very wise once told me that you never know when a little bit of knowledge is going to come in handy and maybe even change your life." I smiled.