1.x (Interlude; Danny)

In the predawn hours of a seemingly ordinary morning, Danny Hebert found himself in a state of distress. His daughter, Taylor, was not in her room. It was 3:15 AM, and his concern had been growing since a little past midnight when he’d heard the back door of the house close below his bedroom. Three hours of anxious waiting had ensued, his mind conjuring a multitude of worrisome scenarios.

Danny was no stranger to worry, especially when it came to Taylor. She wasn’t a typical teenager; she didn’t socialize much, and parties held no interest for her. The possibility that she had gone out for a run, seeking solace from the stress of school, was a concern, given the unsafe neighborhood they lived in. A skinny girl in her mid-teens was an easy target, and the thought of her being attacked, or worse, was enough to make him physically ill. 

Another ominous possibility loomed large in his mind: the bullies. Taylor had been hospitalized in January due to their actions, an incident she had never fully discussed with him. The school’s response had been inadequate, and his attempts to transfer her to another school had been thwarted by bureaucratic red tape. The thought of these bullies luring Taylor out in the middle of the night, armed with threats or empty promises, filled him with a sense of helplessness.

The slightest vibration in the house signaled Taylor’s return. Relief washed over Danny, mixed with a lingering fear. He hesitated to go downstairs, unsure of what he would find. The thought of seeing his daughter vulnerable and possibly hurt, after enduring humiliation at the hands of bullies, was almost unbearable.

He waited, listening for any clue as to her condition. The sounds of her making a late-night snack, toast with jam, provided a small measure of comfort. It seemed unlikely that she would be engaging in such a mundane activity if something terrible had happened.

Relief gave way to anger, directed at Taylor for causing him such worry, and at the city for its unsafe neighborhoods. But most of all, he was angry at himself for his inability to protect his daughter, to stop the bullies, to get answers.

Danny’s father had been a man of strong physique and an even stronger temper, a trait Danny had inherited but strived to control. He had made a vow to himself never to lose his temper with his family, a vow he had kept with Taylor. But she had witnessed his anger on other occasions, incidents that now filled him with shame and regret.

The memory of his last argument with his wife, Annette, four years ago, still haunted him. It was the last time he had seen her. And then there was the incident at the hospital after Taylor’s ordeal, where his rage had been so intense that a nurse had threatened to call the police. He feared that these outbursts might have contributed to Taylor’s reluctance to share her troubles with him.

As the anger subsided, exhaustion set in. He crawled into bed, leaving the right side empty, a habit he hadn’t broken since Annette’s departure. He decided to talk to Taylor in the morning, to finally get some answers.

His dreams were filled with the vast expanse of the ocean, a stark contrast to the turmoil of his waking hours.