CHAPTER FOURTEEN: A FATHER’S ANGUISH

The gym was quiet that afternoon. Even the usual clatter of weights and the rhythmic thuds of the punching bags being worked had faded into the background, muffled like the building itself was holding its breath. 

The damp air was thick with the scent of old sweat and cleaning chemicals as Taylor, heart hammering against her ribs, crouched in the narrow maintenance hallway behind the locker area. She didn’t know why she’d slipped back here—instinct, maybe. Or paranoia. A survival reflex she hadn’t learned, just always had. But the moment she saw him walk through the gym’s front doors, all she could do was retreat.

Her father looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Danny Hebert stood near the entrance, shoulders hunched, coat slouched around him like it no longer fit. His hair was uncombed, eyes red-rimmed and sunken with exhaustion.

Keith met him halfway across the mats, a towel slung over one shoulder, brow furrowed. “Can I help you?”

Danny nodded slowly. “I’m looking for my daughter.” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Taylor. Taylor Hebert. Someone said there was a girl here who looked like her.”

Taylor froze, breath catching in her throat. Her back pressed hard to the wall as if she could disappear into it. 

Keith visibly hesitated. “I’m not sure,” he said carefully. “Lot of kids come through here.”

“She’s tall,” Danny continued. “Dark hair. Seventeen. She...” His voice cracked, and he blinked rapidly, struggling to hold himself together. “She’s all I have left.”

Taylor’s knees buckled. Her palm found the space beside her, grounding herself against the rising swell of emotion.

She hadn’t seen her father in weeks. Every day since she’d left, she had told herself that staying away was for the best. That he was safer this way. That if she went back, she’d drag all the danger her status as a cape brought with her.

But seeing him now—

He looked older. Smaller. Like the world had taken something out of him and hadn’t given it back.

She found herself taking a step forward.

Only to stop.

Danny rubbed at his face with trembling hands. “I’ve checked the hospitals. The shelters. I even—I went to the morgue.” His voice broke on the last word, and he dropped to his knees right there on the gym floor, hands slack at his sides. A raw, broken sound slipped from him.

Taylor’s vision blurred.

She wanted to run to him. Wrap her arms around him. Tell him she was alive, that she hadn’t abandoned him, not really.

But her feet wouldn’t move.

Guilt, fear, shame, happiness, relief—everything she hadn’t said—held her in place like shackles.

So she remained where she was, watching as Keith knelt beside her father, steadying him with a hand on the shoulder. 

“I’ll keep an eye out,” he said gently. “I promise.”

Danny nodded once, but he didn’t speak. He just stayed there, shoulders shaking, as the silence pressed in.

Taylor stayed hidden until long after her father left.

She didn’t trust herself to move, so each step was slow, tentative—like stepping out into the light after too long in the dark. And her chest burned with the effort of keeping everything inside.

When she finally emerged, Keith was waiting.

He didn’t speak right away. Just watched her from across the room, arms folded, expression hard.

“You can’t keep doing this to him,” he said.

Taylor looked away, throat tight. “I know.”

Keith exhaled through his nose. “Then stop hiding. Talk to him. Before it’s too late.”

She didn’t respond.

Because she already knew the truth: she didn’t know if she could.

But something shifted deep inside her. Small. Subtle. Like the first crack spidering through a dam.

She turned and walked toward the exit, her father’s voice echoing in her mind.

She’s all I have left.