Daddy

To all the girls who love a book daddy this is for you

Prologue – Kendra

“I think I went too heavy on the nuts.”

I stop chewing, still hunched over my bowl, and lift my eyes to my

laptop screen. “I can’t with you,” I say with my mouth full of noodles. “What?” Dad pauses, then rolls his eyes. “Get your mind out of the

gutter, Kenny.”

I shake my head as I finish chewing.

Dad and I have been doing this tradition for about two years now—

cooking the same dish over a video call once a month and eating together. We did it on my thirtieth birthday, when he wasn’t able to make the trip from Colorado to Delaware, then decided it was a fun way to catch up.

“It’s good though. I’ll just do less chopped peanuts next time.” Dad nods to his plate.

“Yeah.” I swirl my noodles in the sauce. “Feels a little dangerous to be able to make my own pad thai. I’m gonna eat this all the time.”

Dad hums. “Maybe you can lure a date over with all these new cooking skills.”

“Lure?” I snort. “I’m not trying to trick a man into dating me.”

“You could leave a trail of those ravioli we made last month down your sidewalk.” He gestures, completely serious. “Then put a bowl of sauce in the middle of your living room.”

I blink at the man on my screen. “I’d have to put a giant box over the bowl and prop it up with a stick. So when my dream man crawls across my floor with ravioli falling out of his pockets, I can kick the stick away and trap him.”

Dad gives me a blank look. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

I crack up. “Yeah, I’m the problem.”

He nods.

My fork is halfway to my mouth when someone knocks on the door. “Hold on.” I set my noodles down and push back from my little dining

table.

“You expecting anyone?” Dad’s voice switches to a parental tone.

“No,” I call back over my shoulder, unconcerned.

My apartment building has always felt really safe—with locked front

doors and a security guard on duty—so I’m not worried about whoever’s at the door.

For all I know, it’s Lizzy, my roommate. She often knocks when her hands are full rather than getting her keys out.

We used to work together, and when she offered me her spare room last year, I snagged it. It was closer to the office and cheaper than living alone.

A few months ago, she quit our company for a different job, so now I see her even less. And as someone who likes privacy, it’s been pretty much ideal.

I flip the deadbolt and pull the door open.

“Hey—” My smile falters.

It’s not Lizzy.

It’s the guy from the rental office downstairs.

“Um, hi.” I lift a hand in an awkward wave, and he presses a folded

piece of paper against my palm.

My fingers close around it automatically.

“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “We can’t give you any more warnings.

You need to be out by the end of the month.”

“What?” I look down at the paper in my hand, then back up at him.

“What warnings? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve had four months. Even when you pay up on the rent, you still

gotta go.” He shrugs. f*****g shrugs. Then turns away and walks down the hall.

I step back into my apartment, letting the door swing shut. I don’t understand.

What the hell is he talking about?

My hands start to shake as I unfold the paper.

They shake even more when I read the words.

He said it.

I heard him say it.

But seeing it...

Eviction Notice

I shake my head.

This doesn’t make sense.

I’ve been paying rent.

I’ve been...

Embarrassment and shame make my throat feel tight.

I’ve been paying my roommate.

I’ve been giving money directly to Lizzy for half the rent.

She already lived here.

She told me she had the rent set up on auto pay. That it came right out of

her account.

So I just gave her money.

Cash.

The paper vibrates in my trembling fingers.

She kept my money, but she didn’t use it to pay rent.

My eyes lift from the letter, and I look down the short hall toward her

bedroom.

She said she quit her job at the office. Said she got a better one. But that

was five months ago.

It’s been four months.

My heart thuds loudly in my chest.

No one at work ever asks about her.

No one ever said anything about her quitting to me.

Because maybe she didn’t actually quit.

Maybe she was fired.

And maybe, probably, she’s a f*****g liar.

“Kenny?” Dad’s voice cuts through the buzzing in my head.

My legs feel heavy as I force myself to walk back to the table.

I drop into the chair.

“You okay?” Dad’s expression is full of sympathy, and it makes my

throat feel even tighter.

“She... She wasn’t paying the rent.” The admission tastes like ash. “I’m sorry, Kenny. That’s... messed up.”

I place my hands palm down on the table next to my dinner. “The letter says we need to be out by the end of the month.” I swallow and will myself not to cry. “That’s only ten days away. And... I think that means they’ll come after us for the money, right? Like for the unpaid rent that I already paid?”

“Are you on the lease?”

I nod. “And I paid her cash. She said that would be easiest.”

Anger pours itself into the concoction of emotions filling my chest.

If I’d paid her with