“What is it?”
“May I take my one phone call now, please, before I return to my cell? It’s urgent.”
The guard took me to the phone, and I dialed the number I’d memorized almost a year ago.
“Governor Roffe’s office, how may I assist?”
“Roseanne, this is an important call for the governor,” I said, shifting so the guard couldn’t read my lips.
“The governor is very busy at the moment, but if you leave your name and tell me what this is about, I can schedule a time and date the governor can call you back.”
“No, Roseanne, I need you to listen carefully. The governor’s upcoming election may depend on this. Please let Governor Roffe know his son is on the line.”
“Governor Roffe doesn’t have a son.”
“You tell him Celeste’s son, and I’m sure he’ll understand.”
This was by no means how I’d wanted to confront him. I’d intended to put a bullet through my biological father’s skull, but he might mean more to me alive than dead.
For now.