Page 148 of The Assignment: Room 3

She points to the bedside cabinet where my old answering machine sits. “I thought hearing them might bring you back to us. I was desperate, but I didn’t let anyone else hear the messages, and I didn’t even tell Dalton why I had to go looking for the machine. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m cuckoo’s nest.”

“What I heard… was their final words to me?”

“Yes.”

“They helped me come back to you.”

“Yes,” she says as a single tear rolls down her cheek. “And I will be eternally grateful to them for it.”

“Could I… hear them again?”

She shimmies off the bed, and I’m reluctant to break contact with her as if I’ll fall back into the abyss without her touch to ground me. She sets it up for me and hands it over. “I’ll let you listen to them alone.”

I don’t want her to leave, but I know this is something I need to do myself. I’ve waited decades to hear their voices again. I have been so afraid to listen, as if, in some small way, I could keep them alive.

The moment I hit play, I’m taken back twenty-three years, my mom’s voice a soothing balm to my soul. I listen to them over and over again, letting myself feel every last word, my tears falling freely for the first time since that fateful September 11thin the principal’s office.

I’m not sure how long my pet has been gone, but there is no mistaking her return. The door flies open, and a little Tasmanian devil comes barreling into the room.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Joy fills my heart, bursting with love for my baby girl. “Uppy, uppy.”

“Hey, Gracie bear. Mommy will have to lift you today. Daddy has a booboo, but I need your hugs right now.”

Helena sweeps her up before placing her gently on the bed beside me. Helena—that’s going to take a while. My little bear throws her arms around my neck, squeezing the life out of me. I really need to rethink how I word things. There are so many common phrases that seem to center around death, killing, and loss of life.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing her in—coconut shampoo and chocolate. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you lots, Daddy. Did you get my picture?”

“I was sleeping when Mommy brought it. Do you want to show it to me now?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“It’s going to take a while to get used to hearing that. Thetwilight zone has reached Manhattan.” I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Bro! I’d jump up and give you a manly hug, but my leg has become a donut.”

“What?”

“It has a hole in the middle.”

“Good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think he looks a little emotional as he comes to my bedside and gives me the biggest hug.

“It’s good to see you, brother. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Gracie squishes between us, unwilling to relinquish her hold on me. “Mr. Dalton. If you are my Daddy’s brother…”

“Then I’m your uncle,” he says with a smile.

“You are?”

“Yeah. Are you okay with that?”

“Funkle Dally!”

I laugh so hard it hurts, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Oh, I’m calling you that for sure,” I quip. “Ryder and Ford are going to love it.”

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