Marcus's POV
I was talking to my daughter for the first time in ten years, and she looked like she wanted to run away.
"Kira," I said, stepping toward her carefully. "I know this isn't the right time, but I need to tell you—"
"Papa, stop." She held up her hand, not looking at me. "Jake just went with some cosmic entity. Reality is breaking down around us. Can we please deal with family pain later?"
Her words hit me like a slap. In the old world, this would have been the moment for a touching reunion scene. The father would make a passionate speech, the daughter would cry and forgive him, and they'd hug while sad music played in the background.
But there was no script now. No sure happy ending. Just me, standing in a wrecked pack house, trying to apologize to a daughter who had every right to hate me.
"You're right," I said quietly. "This isn't about good time. This is about me being selfish."
Kira's eyes snapped to mine, shocked.
