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“Yes,” I reply, struggling to get out of the low chair on my own until Marshall helps me up. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He says as we both turn to follow the nurse down the hall.

“If you stand here, we can take your weight, and then I’ll get your blood pressure.” The nurse says.

I do as she says, and then she guides us to one of the patient rooms, this one with an adorable photo of a mom and her twins on the wall.

The nurse goes through my medical records and the standard series of questions they ask at all my appointments before leaving. Marshall and I sit alone in the room to wait for the doctor.

Thankfully, this isn’t an appointment where I need to change into one of those awful paper dressing gowns. Instead, I wore a comfortable outfit that allows me to slip off my pants and pull up my top before covering myself with the paper blanket they left for me.

Marshall opens his mouth as though to break the silence that’s descended upon the room, but he’s interrupted by my phone ringing from inside my purse.

“Can you hand that to me?” I ask, gesturing to my bag sitting on the floor next to him.

When I have my bag in hand, I dig through my bag until I locate my phone, only to pull it out and see an unknown local number.

Typically, I don’t answer unknown callers, but something about it tells me I should pick up this time.

“Hello?” I ask into the phone.

“Elizabeth Iris Snow?” A smooth voice comes through the phone.

“This is she,” I say calmly, though anxiety is mounting in my chest as my heart rate increases.

“This is your father’s lawyer for his estate, Mrs. Johnson.”

“Estate?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry to inform you, but your father passed away last night.” The lawyer says. “I’m calling to inform you of his death and ask you to come by my office.”

“My father is dead?” I whisper into the phone.

Marshall’s head snaps up, and his full attention is now on me as I speak with the woman on the phone.

“I just... I just ran into him on Sunday.” I say in disbelief. “What happened?”

“Did you...” She pauses. “Your father was sick for quite a while. He’d been battling cancer for several months. Did you not know?”

“No,” I whisper. “I went no-contact with him a few years ago. We’ve only had run-ins here and there for the last few years.”

“Oh. I apologize. He spoke of you so fondly when I last saw him, I assumed...”

“You assumed wrong.” I snap.

My father was never a kind person. He wasn’t the warm father figure he portrayed himself as to the world. Everyone else saw him as this great, successful man who had a picture-perfect life.

But I know better.

Father was nothing like a real dad should be. He never showed up for me nand ever supported me in the ways I needed him to.

And yet, there’s still an overwhelming sadness that’s overcome me in this moment.

He’s gone.

Really gone.

I’m truly alone in the world.

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