We zipped through back streets for what felt like hours, avoiding motorways, taking an indirect route along the border of the Canadian Territory. Tears had filled my eyes as we'd left the diner and, at the speeds we were travelling, ended up in my ears. I sobbed quietly into Delta's back, barely managing to keep my grip around her waist. If she felt me coming unhinged, she didn't acknowledge it.

I closed my eyes to try and curb the tears, focusing on the rushing air and the brief, passing sounds of the city around me, but it was no use. The news broadcast dominated my thoughts, bringing with it a sick heaviness.

After some time, the bike slowed to a stop and I opened my eyes to find we had parked beside a massive dumpster in an alley.

Delta helped me dismount before climbing off the bike herself. "If you can manage, we're going up there." She pointed to a ladder above the dumpster. It led to the roof of a ten-storey brick warehouse.

I looked doubtfully at it through the watery haze in my eyes and sniffled violently. "Sure."

The ladder's rungs were worn and thin. It objected to our combined weight with a series of groans as we climbed. I didn't dare look at the bolts, which I was certain didn't exist in some places they ought to. I swallowed back my tears for the climb out of self-preservation.

The view from the roof would have been quite striking had I been able to see it properly—or been in the mental state to actually care. It had a direct line of sight to the Canadian Territory's city. It was a huge mass of twinkling lights, gradually increasing in height toward the city centre with its towering skyscrapers.

Delta led the way to a large dome protruding from the roof. It looked like the outer part of a skylight or temperature control system. She fiddled with a couple of bolts that had been intentionally loosened and opened a hatch-sized door on the side.

The dome concealed a fan set into a large hole in the roof. The blades spun lazily so that when Delta approached, she was able to jump through the gap and down into the hole. I hesitated as I heard her land in the darkness below.

"Come on, it's not a very big drop," her voice carried up through the hole.

I braced myself and waited for the blades to pass before jumping feet first into the darkness. She was right, it wasn't very far down at all, and I landed on some kind of spongy mattress.

It was pitch black, but I could hear Delta rustling around. A fluorescent light flickered on and we were bathed in its off-white glow.

The room was about the size of my bedroom at Dad's. There was a small kitchenette and a few basic cabinets against the closest wall, while a worn couch and upturned crate-come-coffee table occupied the centre of the room. On the opposite wall to the kitchenette was a long desk—and an equally long holo-screen above it. Delta was fiddling with some controls on an interface set into the desktop. My eyes came to rest on the back of her.

"Where are we?" I sank down onto the couch and blew out a shaky breath. Fresh tears felt as though they were lingering at the brim of my eyelids.

"It's my place." Delta grabbed something from the kitchenette before perching herself on the crate at my knees. "Here." She offered me a small bottle of water.

"Thanks." I unscrewed the lid and took a swig. It did nothing to subdue the lump in my throat.

"Do you want to talk about it?" her voice rose an octave in obvious discomfort at asking.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No offence, but I don't really know you. I just want to know what's going on."

I heard her get up and go back to the desk. "No worries hon. How about you have a small breather to clear your head before we start. There's a lot to get through—and you're going to want some clarity to take it all in."

My eyebrows dipped. A lot to take in? How complicated could it be? Then again, maybe she could see I was just about catatonic.

Attempting to clear my head did nothing. It was impossible to quieten the tangled riot of thoughts bumping round in there. Before I could control myself, I was sobbing again. My gut twisted and my chest heaved—every thought of Dad making the feeling more intense.

I forced the water bottle back up to my trembling lips and took a long gulp. It didn't help much, but I persisted.

Once I had drained half the bottle, exhaustion overwhelmed me. All the tears, the grief, the running, it had become too much. I closed my eyes and listened to the rhythmic tapping of Delta's fingers on the interface at the desk. A numb drowsiness took over my body, closing out the heavy sadness in my chest, and suddenly—there was sleep.

The filtered morning light drifted down through the giant hole in the roof, the fan pushing cool air down into the hideout. I opened my eyes and sat up slowly. My cheeks felt dry and starched from the tears of last night—undeniable evidence it had all actually happened.

I fumbled in my jean's pockets and exhaled in relief as I realised my vape was still there. My joints popped and muscles protested as I rose from the couch.  I had somehow managed to sleep sitting upright and unmoving for the majority of the night. I glanced around behind me and spotted Delta asleep in the swivel chair at her work station. She was slumped back with her boots on the desk and her mouth hanging wide open.

I made my way over to the hole where the fan was. There was a small metal ladder leading back up through the hole—and a switch at the top just under the fan blades. It seemed pretty self-explanatory. I flicked the switch when at the top of the ladder and the blades slowed to a stop. The crisp air hit me as a climbed out onto the roof.

The shimmering lights of the city in the distance were still noticeable in the early morning haze, only now the grey outlines of all the buildings were illuminated by the brightening sky.

I took a hit of my vape and heard a noise behind me. Delta was climbing out through the dome.

She wandered over, hugging her jacket closer in the breeze. "How are you feeling?"

I thought about it. "Weird. Kind of tired and numb." There was a vague presence of the heavy sadness from last night, but it felt muted and smothered by exhaustion.

She nodded. "Emotive-tranq probably hasn't worn off yet."

"What?" I exhaled a cloud of vapour into the air above her head.

"Emotive tranquillisers," she said, enunciating every syllable.

"You drugged me?" I recoiled, waiting for outrage to burn up inside me—but it never did—a spark snuffed out before it could catch alight. "Why?"

Her eyebrows dipped in what appeared to be genuine surprise. "How else would you have gotten some sleep?"

The sudden and heavy sleep that I had fallen into last night now made sense. I took another hit of my vape and blew the vapour out towards the view. It made the city in the distance look as though it were shrouded in fog for just a moment.

"So you didn't actually plan on explaining any of Dad's death to me last night?" My tone was hardened. Thanks to the tranquillisers, I wasn't angry or upset. All I could think was how strange it felt to say he was dead out loud.

She flinched away at the question, sitting down on the roof ledge and dangling her legs over the side. "You were in such a state when we arrived. I was serious when I said there is a lot to take in. You're weren't ready last night."

I shook my head and said nothing. My grief, no matter how devastating or debilitating, was real. I didn't like it being taken away from me.

My face seemed to convey just enough emotion for Delta to read. "Honestly, I thought I was helping." She stood up and clawed at a portion of orange hair the wind had stuck to her lips. "I can see how this maybe isn't a great start, but I'll tell you everything I know about your Dad—and if you want to leave after, I won't stop you."

I sighed, removing the vape from my lips and giving her a tiny nod. "Okay, but before we get into all that, how about you tell me who you are and how you found me?"

She smacked her palm to her head, then offered it out to me. "Of course! I'm Delta." Her hand fell away and tugged at the neck of her black sweater when she realised her welcome gesture wasn't about to be reciprocated. "And the best I can do for your second question without giving you my entire life story is... I'm a pretty amazing hacker." She screwed up her freckled nose in a funny kind of grin. "You will note modesty is also one of my strong points."

"And my Dad?" I cut in, unable to help myself. "Is he definitely... gone?" I almost couldn't get the words out.

Her grin faded and her eyes roamed my face restlessly, unsure where to settle.  "He is," she said sadly. "I'm sorry."

I looked over the ledge and down to the ground below, swallowing hard. The tranquillisers must have been starting to wear off—or my grief was becoming too strong to be contained by them. "I suppose we better get through the details then."

I heard Delta's boots scuff on the concrete behind me as she started back to the dome. "Come on, it'll be easier if I show you."