Malissa woke feeling exhausted.
Not physically. Emotionally.
The previous day lingered in her mind like a weight she could not quite set down.
Her mother's sudden collapse.
The hospital. The appeal delay.
The conversation with the lawyer.
The realization that even seeing her father had become complicated now.
She stared at the ceiling for a long moment before sitting up.
The room was quiet.
Sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows, painting the walls in soft gold. Beyond the glass, Pacifica Heights was already awake. Cars moved along distant roads. The ocean shimmered beneath the morning light.
Everything looked normal.
Yet she felt strangely restless.
She rubbed her eyes and released a slow breath.
Maybe she was becoming greedy.
Her mother was improving. The appeal was still alive. The lawyer had not given up.
There were people who had far less.
So why did it still hurt?
The answer came immediately.
Because none of it brought her father home.She looked away from the window.
For years she had survived on hope.
Sometimes that hope felt unbearably heavy.
An hour later, she made her way downstairs.
The penthouse was as immaculate as always. Clean. Quiet. Controlled.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted from the dining area.
Alexander was already there.
A tablet rested beside his plate.
A cup of black coffee sat untouched near his hand.
He was reading something on the screen with complete focus.
Business as usual. No mention of yesterday.
No mention of the hospital. No mention of her tears. Nothing.
Malissa wasn't surprised.
She took her seat across from him.
A member of staff placed breakfast in front of her before quietly leaving.
For several minutes neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable anymore.
Not exactly. It simply existed.
Her phone suddenly rang.
The sound seemed unusually loud in the quiet room. She glanced down.
Unknown number.
Her brows pulled together slightly.
For a moment she considered ignoring it.
Then she answered.
"Hello?"
Silence.
A faint crackle followed.
"Malissa?"
Everything stopped.
The fork slipped from her fingers.
Her heart lurched painfully against her ribs.
She knew that voice.
She would know it anywhere.
"Dad?"
The word barely left her mouth.
Her vision blurred instantly.
Across the table, Alexander's gaze lifted briefly from his tablet.
Malissa had already covered her mouth with one hand.
Tears filled her eyes. Not from sadness.
Not this time. Relief. Pure relief.
"Malissa?" her father repeated.
She laughed weakly through tears.
"Dad."
For a moment neither of them said anything.
Neither seemed to trust their own voice.
Then his familiar chuckle came through the line. Older. Rougher. But still his.
"You're crying."
She wiped quickly at her face.
"No, I'm not."
"You've always been a terrible liar."
A laugh escaped her despite herself.
The sound felt unfamiliar.
She hadn't laughed like that in days.
Maybe weeks.
"How are you?" she asked quickly.
"I'm fine."
She immediately frowned.
"You always say that."
"And you always worry too much."
Her eyes closed briefly. For the first time in years, hearing those words felt like coming home.
"What about Mom?" he asked.
"How is she?"
"She's doing better."
His sigh of relief was audible.
"Good."
"The doctors are optimistic."
"Then that's one less thing for you to carry."
Malissa looked down at the table.
If only he knew.
If only he knew how much she had carried.
For both of them. For years.
"What about you?" she asked softly.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm surviving."
The answer was honest.
That made it hurt more. She swallowed.
"The lawyer says we're still moving forward."
"I know."
"The appeal is delayed again."
"I know that too."
A small silence followed. Then his voice softened.
"You don't need to tell me every setback."
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
"I just don't want you thinking I've stopped trying."
The line remained quiet for a second.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried a warmth she hadn't heard in years.
"Malissa."
She blinked.
"Hm?"
"You started carrying responsibilities long before you should have."
A pause.
"Working after school."
"Working through university."
"Helping your mother keep the lights on when I couldn't."
Another pause.
"I've heard enough over the years to know what you've sacrificed."
The tears returned immediately.
Malissa lowered her head. Her vision blurred again. She couldn't speak.
"You've carried more than you should have."
A long silence followed.
"I'm proud of you."
The words hit harder than she expected.
Far harder. Her chest tightened painfully.
She had spent years fighting. Years surviving.
Years pretending she was strong enough.
And suddenly she felt like a little girl again.
"Dad..."
"I'm proud of you," he repeated quietly.
Across the table, Alexander glanced up briefly.
Malissa was smiling through tears.
The sight lingered for a second.
Then he returned his attention to the tablet.
"You don't have to be strong all the time," her father continued.
"I know."
"You say that."
A weak laugh escaped her.
"Maybe I learned it from you."
"That's unfortunate."
This time both of them laughed.
The conversation continued for several more minutes. Nothing dramatic. Nothing life changing. Just ordinary things. Questions.
Updates. Small moments.
The kind of conversation most people took for granted.
Eventually his voice became softer.
"I should go."
Her chest tightened immediately.
Already?
She hated how quickly the time had passed.
"When can I call again?"
"Soon."
The answer came without hesitation.
A warmth spread through her chest.
Soon. Not someday. Not maybe.
Soon.
"Take care of Mom."
"I will."
"And yourself."
"I'll try."
Another brief silence.
"Call again soon, Malissa."
"I will."
The line disconnected.
For several seconds she simply stared at the phone.
The dining room felt strangely quiet now.
Her father was gone again.
Yet somehow she felt lighter than she had in months.
Across the table, Alexander stood.
He picked up his tablet. Finished his coffee.
And resumed reading as though nothing unusual had happened.
Malissa looked down at her phone.
Then quickly searched for the lawyer's number.
The call connected after two rings.
"Good morning."
"The calls," she said immediately.
The lawyer laughed softly.
"I was wondering how long it would take."
"You knew?"
"I knew you'd receive one."
Malissa sat straighter.
"How?"
"A communication arrangement was approved this morning."
"What arrangement?"
"Scheduled phone access."
She frowned.
"But yesterday you said..."
"It wasn't possible yesterday."
"And today?"
A brief pause.
"Today it is."
Her heartbeat quickened.
"How?"
"I'm afraid I don't know."
That wasn't true. Or at least it wasn't the full truth. She could hear it in his voice.
Someone had intervened. Someone powerful.
Someone capable of making impossible things happen overnight.
The realization came immediately.
Alexander. It had to be.
The timing was too perfect. Too precise.
She ended the call several minutes later.
By then Alexander was preparing to leave for work.
She found him near the entrance.
Suit jacket on. Tablet in hand.
Ready to leave. He looked up as she approached.
"Did you do this?"
His expression remained unchanged.
"Do what?"
"The calls."
A brief silence followed.
"It seemed efficient."
Of course. Classic Alexander. She almost laughed.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then she looked down at her phone.
The same phone that had carried her father's voice only minutes earlier.
"It means a lot to me."
The words were simple.
Honest.
Alexander held her gaze for a second.
"Then use it."
Nothing more. No explanation. No acknowledgment.
No attempt to take credit. Just that.
He adjusted his jacket and walked toward the elevator.
A moment later the doors closed behind him.
Malissa remained standing in the living room.
Alone. Quiet.
Looking down at her phone.
Yesterday she had gone to sleep believing there was nothing she could do.
Today she had heard her father's voice.
Her thumb brushed lightly across the screen.
A small smile appeared. Real. Unforced.
Malissa looked down at the call log again.
The smile returned before she could stop it.
Maybe tomorrow wouldn't feel quite so heavy.