Evan entered the hospital and walked over to the information desk. A middle-aged woman with horn-rimmed glasses and too much makeup gave him a tired smile. “Can I help you, young man?”
Evan nervously smoothed down the front of his shirt. “I’m here to see, uh, my dad. I mean, Roger. Roger Emmerson?” He tapped his fingers on the counter. The receptionist placed a comforting hand on top of his.
“It’s alright. I’ll find out what room he’s in.” She typed on a computer for a few seconds. “He’s in room 305. Sign in here. The elevators are around the corner.” Evan struggled through his signature, thanked her, and walked over to the elevators.
When the doors opened he stepped in and pressed three. As they closed, he leaned against the wall and tried to steady his breathing. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. After all the years of searching, he’d finally found out who his father was. He was going to be able to catch up on all the time they’d missed out on.
And then he’d learned his father was dying.