Page 55 of Crown of Lies

“Your father’s had another episode, Mr. Morelli.” The voice coming through the phone sounds breathless. “He’s calmed down now, but I thought you should know.”

Shit. The facility where my father lives is a good half-hour drive from here, and I don’t wanna go there with Quinn. But before I can come up with an excuse to shake her, she’s at my side, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Fine,” I lie. “Just an errand I need to run. You can make the next stop without me if you want.”

“No, that’s okay.” She crosses her arms, clearly not backing down. “I don’t mind coming with you.”

Love how she’s acting like I fucking invited her. I clench my jaw, knowing there’s no point in arguing. “Fine. Let’s go.”

We climb back into Quinn’s car, and I give her the address of the care facility. As we drive, I feel her gaze on me, curious and questioning. I keep my eyes fixed on the road, my jaw tight. I don’t want to talk about this. Not here. Not now. Not with her.

She glances around as we pull up to the facility, taking in the well-kept grounds and simple, modern buildings. “What is this place?”

“An errand,” I repeat, getting out of the car and heading inside.

A nurse I vaguely recognize—Becky, I think her name is—meets us at the front desk.

“Mr. Morelli, I’m glad you came. Your father is in his room. He’s resting now.”

I nod sharply. “Thanks.”

Becky’s gaze drifts to Quinn, her eyebrows drifting upward a little as she takes in Quinn’s teal hair and tattoos. “Who’s your friend?”

“A colleague,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. “Can we go see him?”

Becky nods, leading us down a quiet hallway to my father’s room. My heart is pounding in my chest as we approach, and I force myself to take a couple of slow, deep breaths. Seeing my dad like this always hits me hard.

He’s sitting in a chair by the window, his eyes closed, looking older and more frail than I remember. A book is sitting open on his lap, his thin chest rising and falling slowly.

“He fell asleep a little while ago,” Becky murmurs. “He should be okay now, but we’ll keep an extra close eye on him.”

“Thanks,” I say quietly.

Becky gives me a sympathetic smile and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.

I glance at Quinn, feeling uncomfortable under her steady gaze. “He’s got some kind of dementia,” I explain, my voice gruff. “Went downhill fast.”

I watch as my dad’s eyes slowly open, his gaze unfocused at first. Then he spots me, and a smile spreads across his weathered face.

“Nico, my boy,” he says, his voice weak but warm. “It’s so good to see you.”

I nod, keeping my distance. “Hey, Dad. How you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m fine, just fine. Who’s your friend?” He peers at Quinn, his smile never faltering.

“This is Quinn,” I say, not offering any more explanation.

“Lovely to meet you,” my father says. “Nico, you should bring her around more often. It’s nice to see you with friends.”

I clench my jaw, fighting back the urge to snap at him. Instead, I force a tight smile. “Sure. We can’t stay long though. Just wanted to check in.”

“Of course, of course,” he says, reaching out to pat my hand. “You’re such a good son, always looking out for your old man.”

I pull my hand away, unable to bear his touch. “We should get going.”

As we leave, I can feel Quinn’s eyes on me. We climb into her car, and she doesn’t start the engine right away.

---