Dad comes to me on the roof. He slides in and sits beside me.

We sit there, like every Thursday, and look out at the city. People are still going about in their Scovers, some are being slid down the sidewalks and they are flying about and all around. The world is lit up in digital colors of blues and purples and reds.

"You've gotta take it easy on her." He says.

I shrug. "She was being such a bitch."

His hands start shaking, he clenches his jaw and shakes his head. "You are not to refer to your mother that way. She is going through this, same as you, same as anyone else."

Although his voice is cool and calm, I still feeling like I've been scolded, yelled at. Tears prick behind my lids and it takes all my willpower to stay composed.
"Going through a lot?! We have little to nothing, we've used most of our livelihood on her, and all she's been doing is sulking and doing everything to get sick again. She doesn't care about us! About how much money it'll cost to fix her when she gets sick again... she doesn't care!! She is not the mother I used to know..." I break off with a sob.

Dad puts his arms around me and lifts me to his lap. He's not a huge man but is surprisingly strong. I barely fit his lap, but I stay there, relishing the heat of another person and the comfort.

"It's okay. She doesn't mean to seem like that, she's just adjusting to the huge changes... She's going through a lot, more than us if you'd care to believe it." he says.

I sniffle, hide my face in the crook of his shoulder. "Yes she does." I wish she had died.
The sting of guilt almost swallows me whole, but I am used to it. Better to feel guilt than be irrational. In this new world we are all we've got. I've lost the mother I know, the last thing I want is to lose my Dad too. No money means no food, you can't survive without food.

Dad pats down my hair. "Everything will be okay. Things are going smoothly at the hospital, I expect a promotion anytime soon."

This makes me sit up in surprise. Dad has never as much as mentioned a raise in his pay.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Doctor Hamine is traveling to Spain, I'm the next best surgeon. They say I might be promoted." His eyes are tired but his lips still pull into a soft smile.

For a beat I sit there in shock. This is new, this is unexpected. A promotion means more money, more money means not dying, not having to worry all the time... It might mean not hating mom just as much too.

Thursday. Every Thursday morning I eat a Quarter bowl of cereal with more water than milk. Today, I plan to eat half, and more milk than water. However, I'm so used to my daily routine that I just sit there, staring at the milk can.

When I try to pour more milk than usual my hand begins to shake. I hate to admit it, but, it's also partly because of my fear that the promotion might not happen and I'll regret taking the extra milk.

In the end, I return the milk, there's no need to splurge yet.

Today I feel great, hopeful. There's never been reason to be hopeful before, but my dad's promotion changes everything. I even wear my fairly new Burgundy sneakers. That took an amount of effort too. Screw fear, I wear my beautiful sneakers with a grin.

Sage and Hesther notice my mood but don't say anything. They just make sure to stay far away, as if afraid that I'll suddenly snap. I get it though, this is different from a normal Thursday.

After work, I cycle to the store and get two fruit cups. They were barely as big as my hand, but the fact is that they are two. My hands shake so badly at the checkout that the store owner, whose name I don't know till now, offers me a blunt.

On my way home, I stop at Dad's hospital.

The hospital is small but clean, it's three stories with at least twelve rooms on a floor.

Dad's office is on the middle floor, the fifth door to the right.

At the front there's a camera that scans my face and is supposed to announce my entry, but dad removed my name and allowed me free entrance long ago.

He's seated behind a desk, going through his computer. Familiar gold plated glasses are perched on his nose, an ancient tradition that died more than fifty years back. No one uses glasses anymore, just an infusion that makes the eyes clear again.

"Turn, click. Hmm..." He's so engrossed that he doesn't even realize I'm here.

So, I jump into the seat opposite him, meant for patients.

His eyes fly up and away from his computer, and he jerks back in his seat. When He sees it's me he exhales. "Ivy..." He always calls my middle name when he's not impressed.

"Dadddd..." I grin and wiggle in my seat. The bag with fruit cups goes onto the table.
"I got us fruit cups."

His eyebrows shoot up against his hairline, because, one thing most people who know me knows, is that I hate change badly. Getting these fruit cups is like winning a medal.
"Wow, thanks honey..." He hesitantly reaches for his cup.

"And I wore my burgundy sneakers out today, to work." I pull my leg onto the table.

The look on his face is priceless.

If buying more than the usual is like winning a medal for me, wearing these sneakers is like winning the grammy awards.

The grammy is a program held every four years. It's for scientists and new inventions. One of the hardest things on the planet to achieve. Once you'd won one, you were given free everything for four years, this includes food, transportation, anything. And, a free transformation with full health insurance for ten years.

Dad stares at me intently for a minute, "Are you alright honey?"
His voice is dripping with concern.

I smile wide and hide my still slightly shaky hands. "Perfect. I'm starting to think change isn't all that bad."

He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by Dray.

The AI's droning emotionless voice fills the room. "Client 244695 requesting entry."

I send dad a look. I've been to his office every Thursday for the last five years and have never met any client. This was my time.

His face scrunches up in a grimace. "Sorry honey, he requested to see me today. He's the son of the owner of the hospital, I couldn't refuse."

My nails scratch against the glass sides of my chair. "Oh... okay."

"Honey, I'm sorry. I really am. You can just wait for me in my inner office. It's sound proof so it won't be a problem."

I swallow sharply. "Uh- it's fine. I'll probably just head home."
But home is the last place I want to be, because mom is at home. I don't know if I can survive more than a couple of hours with her when dad isn't around.

He knows this, that's why he reaches across he table for my hand. I reluctantly place it in his big warm ones.

We hold hands so that I can feel his pulse. This calms me. The fact that he's real, human.
"Go in my office. There's a bottle of water in there, you can eat both fruit cups."

I shake my head and hand him his fruit cup. He works hard but barely gets even lunch at work. They only give them bottled water and chips. Like a packet of chips does anything.

Just as I stand and pack up my stuff, the door opens and in walks the last person I'd have ever expected.