Silverlighters (revised version as I edit)

4

                                                                               After

                                                              4

 “Name?” my father barked.

I rolled my eyes. “Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth what?”

“Do we really have to do this again?”

“Elizabeth what?”

“Elizabeth bloody Fitzpatrick,” I snapped.

His face hardened. “Jen – Elizabeth,” he scowled at himself, his frustration causing him to slip.

I chuckled. I couldn’t help myself.

“That’s the point,” he growled. “If I can slip up so easily so can you. You need to take this seriously. Your life depends on it. The minute you forget. The minute you let your guard down–”

“Geez dad. I get it. Really. Do you want me to be late on my first day? Doesn’t really go with the whole keeping a low profile thing.”

He grunted. He knew I was right. But the worry in his eyes didn’t fade.

I took pity on him. “My name is Elizabeth Fitzpatrick. We moved here because you got transferred for work.”

I started ticking the rest off with my fingers as I went. “No photo’s. No contacting Bianca. Or anyone else from before. No drawing attention to myself. Or you. No trail. Nothing.”

No life, I thought quietly to myself.

“And tell me if you see anyone acting suspicious. Anyone who looks like they don’t belong,” he finished for me.

“How would I even know what to look for? You don’t tell me anything.”

“You’ll know.”

“Are we done?” I stood up. “I need to finish getting ready.”

He nodded, and I could feel his eyes follow me as I left the room.

As soon as I reached my bedroom I kicked the door closed. Then I threw myself on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

I wasn’t sure if I could go through with this.

We had moved before, but this time was different. This time I had a new name.

And this time I looked different.

I turned my head toward the mirror, my cheek resting on hair that was still strange and unfamiliar.

My honey-blonde hair was now a rich, chocolate brown.

Despite my assurances to my father, I was worried I would slip up. That I would get him killed.

I had no idea who was looking for him, or why, but I intended to find out one way or another.

Before the explosion, before we moved, he was just my dad. A regular guy doing regular things like any other dad.

It had never really crossed my mind that my father had a whole history, a whole other life, before he became a father. That he had his own before and after – one I knew nothing about.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if that was what got my mother killed.

A deep, burning anger rose so unexpectedly at this thought it threatened to consume me.

My body jerked into an upright position, my head spinning with the sudden movement. It felt like every cell in my body was shaking, but when I held my hands in front of me, they were steady.