The Thousandth Floor

“Eris,” he said gently, “I’m not sure there should be a next time.”

“What?”

He looked down at the tablecloth, and there was no mistaking the sudden clouding of his expression. “I’ve enjoyed getting to spend time with you recently, Eris; I really have. I’m proud of the beautiful young lady you’ve grown up to be. You’re so like your mother was at your age, you know.” His expression tightened. “But I’d be lying if I said this news hasn’t been a shock to me. And I’m not sure it’s wise for us to keep spending time together, in public settings.”

Eris felt suddenly as if the air was too thick to breathe. “Why?” she managed.

“It’s delicate, this relationship,” Mr. Cole said. “It complicates things for me, for your mother, and for you as well.”

“And for your family,” Eris said, the cold realization washing over her. “Your wife, Jamie. And Leda.”

He blinked a little at that. “Well, yes,” Mr. Cole admitted. “I don’t want them to find out, for obvious reasons. You understand, of course.”

Eris did understand. She and her mom were the dirty little secret he wanted kept buried.

“Now, about your finances,” Mr. Cole said, his tone utterly businesslike now. “I’ve already spoken about this with your mother, though she didn’t accurately convey how dire your situation is.” It’s not dire, Eris wanted to say, her fierce stubborn pride kicking in. We’re doing okay, given everything. “I’m transferring a lump sum to your account, as well as to your mom’s, and I’ll pay you both a monthly allowance as well. It’s already been deposited, if you’d like to check.”

A little shocked, Eris muttered the commands to open up her bank balance—and gasped at the number of zeroes that were now lined up there.

“Is that enough?” Mr. Cole asked, but of course the question was ridiculous. It was more than enough: to move out of the lower floors, buy a new apartment, replace all her clothes and then some. It was enough to buy her old life back. Eris knew what he was really asking: whether she understood the unspoken price. That she never tell anyone he was her birth father. Not even Leda, she thought—or rather, especially not Leda.

He was buying her silence.

Eris didn’t answer right away. She was looking at her father’s face, which she’d been studying all week in search of her own features, except this time she was trying to read his emotions. There was resignation there, and a little fear, and also something that might have been affection. She could see herself reflected in his eyes as he looked back at her, unspeaking.

Her birth father was disavowing all relation to her. It upset Eris more than she would have guessed. She felt lonely, and rejected, and angry. But emerging the strongest of all her warring emotions was a sense of relief that she wouldn’t have to be poor anymore.

Never one to linger once her mind was made up, Eris stood abruptly. “It’s more than enough,” she said. “Thank you, for the scarf—and everything else.”

Mr. Cole nodded, understanding her meaning. “Good-bye, Eris,” he said softly.

Eris turned and walked out of the restaurant without another word, without even saying farewell to the only father she had left.

Abandoned by two dads, she thought sourly. What a great therapy candidate she was turning out to be.



LEDA



LEDA STOOD OUTSIDE the gates of Haxley Park on First Avenue, her eyes darting back and forth along the quiet, tree-lined street. She felt shaky and tense all over. It had been Ross’s idea to meet here at Haxley, where they always used to do handoffs before Leda’s stint in rehab.

She took a deep breath and started into the park, the old-fashioned iron gates swinging smoothly inward on automatic sensors. A flood of memories washed over her. One of the first times she took xenperheidren, when she’d felt so laser focused she did all her homework for the rest of the year. The afternoon she’d smoked relaxants and lay here on the grass, looking up at the animated clouds on the ceiling in the hopes of finding a pattern. The time she and Cord took his Spokes together, and chased a mosquito around for hours until they stumbled back, laughing, to his apartment.

And now she was back again.

Everyone knew that Haxley was the best upper-floor park for getting high. There were tons of ventilators in its ceiling, since it was in a corner of the Tower, where the floor’s overall airflow might otherwise slow down. It had no playgrounds, so there were no little kids or nannies around; in fact, it was conveniently empty most of the time, tucked away like this on the eastern side of a floor that was mostly office space. The only part that ever had any people was the section by the windows, where a couple of restaurants, a seafood place and a French bistro, looked out over the gardens.

Sure enough, the park’s central pathway was completely empty, even on a Friday evening. “Where the hell are you?” Leda said quietly, sending a flicker to Ross.

The Tower’s internal lights were dimming as the evening got later. A chill lifted the hairs on her arms. The centralized ventilation meant that it was always colder toward the edges of the Tower, especially in public places where no one wanted to foot the electric bill. Leda hugged herself, wishing she’d changed after school this afternoon. But she’d come straight from her SAT prep session, not even stopping back at home. She was too eager for a hit.