Friday has arrived, and usually, I’m eager for the weekend to begin, but this time it’s just a ticking clock for the meetup with my father. 

However, at the moment, Mr. Jue sits across from me on the couch while Lisa makes us tea. He’s an older man, perhaps in his sixties, yet only a few strands of silver weave through his dark head of slick hair. There’s no mistaking he’s Lisa’s father with their similar shaped hooded eyes, thin noses, and sharp jawlines. Even his facial expressions are similar to hers as he studies the photos from the shed while telling me about what the next steps are. 

His lips are moving, but I don’t know what he’s saying because the apartment has become stuffy with each word that tumbles from his mouth.

I’m also quite anxious about meeting with my father in twenty-four hours.

“And he would like a swab of your DNA so we can cross-reference it with what the FBI has on file for Valentina.”

“Yes. Sure,” I reply.

“But I’ve got to say, just by looking at your childhood photos, and comparing them with images of Valentina, there’s one hell of an uncanny resemblance.”

“Well, our resemblance is what started this whole thing,” I laugh softly while twisting the hem of my shirt. I wish Moses were here.

“Do you think if you saw surveillance footage from the day of Valentina’s disappearance, it might stir a memory?”

“Why. Do you have some?” I straighten my posture.

“Yes. My friend at the FBI sent me this…” he pulls out his phone. “It’s a little grainy because of how old it is, but let’s see if it strikes a memory.”

Mr. Jue taps on his phone then rotates it towards me and hits the play button on the screen. Lisa hands me a cup of tea, so I reach for it, but my attention is centered on the video. 

“This is outside of the gift shop in Curry Village,” he says.

The camera angle is facing the walkup, and it takes a few seconds, but then I see little Valentina with her hand in Javier’s as they enter the store. Then the screen transitions to inside, where the two of them roam the aisles. Valentina is curious as she picks up items within reach, but Javier plucks them from her hands and puts them back. 

Moments later, little Valentina runs up to a woman with dark hair draped over one shoulder and a toddler on her hip. The woman bends and kisses the top of her head, and she smiles as if Valentina said something silly. It must be Amelia, and together the four of them look like such a happy family, having a fun day on vacation.

“Anything?” Mr. Jue asks.

“Um…” I touch my throat as I swallow a gob of saliva. My heartbeat is crashing like waves against a rocky shore, and my palms are sweaty, so I wipe them on my leggings. Seeing the Moreno family so peaceful and unaware of what's to come is unbearable. “No. I don’t remember it.”

“Well, it was worth a shot.”

Mr. Jue is about to close out the screen when I see something which causes my stomach to plummet to the carpet.

“Wait!” I grab his arm. “Keep playing the video.”

“See something?” He pulls it up again. 

“Maybe.” 

The camera footage resumes, and that’s when I see a young Angelo and Elaine Rossi walk into the gift shop. There, plain as day, are my parents, within a few feet from the Moreno family. Is this the moment when they spotted me—Valentina?

“What do you see?” Mr. Jue asks, his eyes shifting from me to the screen.

“My parents,” I say on an exhale and then cover my face. 

“Oh, sweety…” Lisa rubs my back. “It’s ok.”

“Are you sure?” her father asks.

“Yes.” I grab a stack of photos on the coffee table and shuffle through them. 

When I find a family photo of my parents and me, I hand it to Mr. Jue. He holds it out in front of him and studies it, then replays the grainy security footage. 

“Yes. It appears these are the same people.”

“So now what? Are you going to arrest my father?”

“First, I’ll send your DNA to my friend at the FBI. The strongest evidence in building a case against your father will be to prove you are Valentina.”

“A case?” I tug my collar. 

“Yes, once the FBI gets involved, they’ll want to question you to gather as much information as possible. Then, if the DNA comes back as a positive match for Valentina, they’ll issue a warrant to take him into custody, and they'll likely alert the Moreno family.”

“And then?”

 “Well, unfortunately, it will be the beginning of a rollercoaster for you. After your father is arrested, there will eventually be a trial, and because of the magnitude of this case, it’ll be a media circus. So I hope you have a good support system because you’ll need it.”

“She’s got it.” Lisa winks my way as she eases down next to her father. 

“Thank you for all of this information, Valerie.” He motions to the box of evidence I’ve arranged for him. “I know it will be difficult to sit and wait as we work on things, but trust me when I say everything will be alright.”

As he pats my knee and smiles at me, I wish I could believe him. 

Because there is no way, I’ll be ok after this. 

On the one hand, I’ll learn the truth, and on the other, I’ll lose my father. Nobody wins in this situation. 

∆∆∆

It’s now Saturday, and I’m supposed to spend the day with my father, so I’m waiting at the bar of Park Chow for him. He’s late, and I’m trying to calm my nerves with a glass of wine and texts from Moses. He and Julian promised to keep a close eye, so they’re parked outside in a rental with tinted windows. 

I just hope they can go unnoticed when we visit the Academy of Sciences. It’s a public place full of people, so at the very least, I know I’m safe in a crowd. 

Sunlight spills across the bar top from the vast, bright windows while a bluster of conversations from patrons and the crash of ice in a metal tin ricochet around me. The bartender is cute, with his hair quaffed in a pompadour and a trendy beard. 

Every once in a while, he flashes me a smile, but for the first time, it does nothing for me. I have a boyfriend. A man who communicates, likes spending time with me, and sticks around to cuddle after sex. My life would be perfect if it weren’t for everything else going on. 

I take a significant gulp of wine with that thought.

“It’s a little early for drinking,” my dad’s voice rumbles in my ear as he embraces me. Except I tense up, and he immediately steps back. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Hugging me or smashing my head into the mirror?” I rattle off.

“For hurting you.” He eases down onto the stool next to me and nods to the bartender. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

“You don’t like Pinot Grigio,” I say.

“It’s growing on me.”

“Interesting. So what else is new.” I shift on the stool to face him. “How’s Miranda?”

“I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken since the night she took a swing at you.”

Breath hitches in my lungs at his lie. Strike one, and we’re only a few minutes into our day. Every part of me wants to lay down my cards so he can see that I know all of his lies. However, I need to wait. I’m supposed to remain neutral and feel things out, but I won’t gain his trust by being passive-aggressive.  

The whole thing has my stomach in knots like a matted braid, along with this meetup. 

Because the truth is, as shitty as the last few days have been, I still love the man sitting next to me. If only I could close my eyes and everything could go back to normal? Perhaps living in oblivion isn’t so bad? At least I was happy. At least I didn’t doubt who my father was.

“So, what have you been up to?” My dad asks.

“Nothing really. Just working. Jerry has a few weddings booked for me and Julian, which is great because I think he’s been worried about the rent on our building increasing. So, having consistent bookings eases the stress.”

“Is he less of a grouch lately?”

“A little.”

“He was so different in high school. He always had that cool rocker vibe about him, but I guess the life of a musician took its toll.”

“He’s a good father, though. He’d do anything for Winnie,” I say. My dad is mid-sip and cuts his eyes to me. 

“I’d do anything for you, and you know that.” 

“Do I?”

Closing his eyes, he sets the wine glass down and scrubs his face with his hands while releasing a ragged breath. Then he stops, stares at the scuffed wood of the bar top, and turns to me.

“I would never hurt you.”

“But you did.”

“And I am sorry and ashamed for what I did.” Taking my hands, he brings them to his chest and pleads with me. “I am so sorry, baby girl. I lost my cool, and I did something inexcusable, but I ask your forgiveness. You are my daughter, and I love you. I promise I will never put a hand on you again.”

We stare at each other as he holds my hands close to his heart, his eyes glossy and on the cusp of spilling tears. I want to believe he’s sincere. I want to believe those are real tears, but the hard truth is that my father is an excellent liar. So this could be an act to placate me—gain my trust. However, two can play this game, so I take a breath and respond.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t already forgive you.”

Relief bathes his face, and the rigidity in his posture softens. He reaches for the wine glass, takes a sip, and then leans over to kiss my temple.

“What do you say we get out of here?” he asks.

We pay the tab, and from the moment I step out of the restaurant, our day together officially starts.

Golden Gate Park isn’t far as we head over in his car. Neither of us speaks on the way to the Academy of Sciences. Instead, we let the stereo occupy the space between us. November Rain by Guns n Roses is playing—a rock ballad my dad and I used to sing the crap out of while doing weekend chores.

He's tapping the steering wheel with his fingers, the melody floating from his lips in a rasp of lyrics. Even though his voice is deep, it’s always been soothing to listen to when he sings. If I wanted to, I could become lost in this moment too. I could begin belting the lyrics right along with him. Instead, I remain quiet.

 Then, my father jerks the car in the opposite direction of our destination.

“What are you doing?” I slap my hands on the dash, steadying myself as the car fishtails. 

“Change of plans.” He grins at me, and my insides clench like a bear trap.