“I promise.”
She cast a longing look at Evelyn’s closed bedroom. “Bless her stupid heart. Laters, love. Tell her I’ll text her when the plane lands.”
As soon as Marie was gone, Evelyn emerged from the separate room, as if she’d been waiting for her sister to leave before coming out.
“She said—” I began.
“She’ll text when the plane lands. She told me five times already.” Evelyn walked to the window and gazed at the ground, watching as her sister got into a car and drove off. “I love her, but she drives me mad. And this flat is too small for four people.”
That was overwhelmingly true. With Marie and Evelyn sharing the bedroom, I had been sleeping on the couch, and Dad was on an air mattress set up next to the windows. Every night, he complained how cold it was next to the glass. No matter how many times I reminded him he could go home whenever he wanted, he’d stubbornly remained in London.
But leaving was in the air. Marie’s quick visit must have acted as a reminder to Dad of his life beyond London. The next morning, I came out to see he had packed all his belongings, deflated the air mattress, and neatly folded the towels and sheets he’d been using.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I’m heading home,” he announced. “The university called. They want me back in classes. Besides, I miss my wife. We’ve never been apart for this long before.”
Stowing my feelings about his wife, I said, “It’s about damn time.”
He grinned and rustled my hair as he did when I was a child. “I’ve enjoyed our time together, Jack, but I know when I’m not wanted.”
When his grin faded to a sad smile, I hugged him. Like always, the embrace didn’t hold everything I wanted to convey with it. Too many years had passed for us to be completely comfortable with each other. Still, it mattered.
“It’s not that,” I promised. “This flat is tiny, and it’s been too crowded for Evelyn to focus on her recovery. I’m here to help her, not catch up with my dad.”
“I understand.” With a grunt, he lifted his duffel bag. “But you have to promise not to be a stranger anymore. Call me. Technology is too advanced for us not to keep in touch.”
“I promise. Can I give you a ride to the airport?”
“I called a car. Thanks, honey.”
I walked him to the door with a sinking feeling in my chest. I’d been waiting for him to leave, but now that the time had actually come, I didn’t like the idea of him going. When would I see him again, and would I ever get time alone with him? If I went to visit him in DC, it would be in the presence of his new family.
“Bye, Dad,” I said.
He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Bye, honey.”
As the elevator took him away, I wiped a tear from my cheek.
With Dad gone and my case at yet another dead end, I focused all my energy on Evelyn. Her constant improvement was all that kept my mind off the things I couldn’t help but worry about. When the Ripper murders popped into my head, I helped Evelyn learn how to cook pasta one-handed. When memories of my mother crept up on me, I asked Evelyn if she wanted to look for a new book at one of the local stores in Whitechapel. After a while, she caught on to my renewed dedication.
“Everything okay?” she asked one day as she tried to brush out her wet hair after a shower. “You seem mighty focused on me.”
“That’s why I’m here, right?”
“Yeah, but you don’t seem like yourself. You seem… dull.”
I scoffed. “Wow, thanks.”
“You know what I mean,” she said. “You’ve been distant ever since your dad left, not talking about anything you usually talk about. Whatever happened with the Ripper case? Is it over? I haven’t heard anything on the news about it in a while.”
I had intentionally stopped watching the news. Each time I saw another story about the Whitechapel killer, a pit of depression grew in my stomach and expanded outward, coloring my entire world an ugly shade of gray.
“I don’t know.” I took the brush from her, turned her around, and began untangling the wet knots in her hair. “I stopped caring about it.”
“Oh, please. What’s the real story?”
I pressed my lips together and focused on her hair, brushing it out from the bottom so it wouldn’t pull on her scalp. Evelyn, her impeccable senses finely tuned to my settings, turned to check on me.
“Jack,” she said softly. “What’s wrong?”
My chin quivered, and I willed myself not to cry. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t have a purpose. Dad’s gone back to his new family. My mom’s gone. The investigation is pointless, and it keeps getting me into trouble.”
Unable to keep a hold on my emotions, I broke down. Evelyn guided my head into her lap and stroked my hair as I cried. She didn’t say anything to make me feel better, but I didn’t need words. I just needed someone to be there for me.
Sometime later, we ordered a pizza and watched a movie together. As we laughed at a dumb comedy, I momentarily forgot about the things bothering me. But when the credits rolled and Evelyn tossed her last pizza crust into the box, she decided to remind me.
“I thought of something,” she announced, dusting her hands. “This whole Ripper thing—nobody has any leads on the killer, right? It’s like he vanishes into thin air after he attacks. I mean, the police should have found him after you saved Eira Kent. They were right there!”
The pizza turned in my stomach. “I thought we weren’t talking about the Ripper anymore.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” she admitted. “Remember when you first got here and we went on that tour? You were arguing with the tour guide
