Sometimes I imagined hearing it while walking across campus, wondering if I would somehow recognize it. Now… I didn’t have to imagine anymore. It was waiting. Only a few feet away. Mrs. Voss slowly walked toward Lucan’s bookshelf. Every step looked painful. Not because of her age. Because every inch of that room belonged to memories she had tried desperately to preserve. She knelt beside the bottom shelf. Hidden behind a row of engineering books sat an old portable cassette player. Dust covered the plastic lid. The batteries had long since died. Mrs. Voss smiled sadly. “He used to carry this everywhere.” “He recorded ideas.” “He recorded songs.” “He even practiced speeches before job interviews.” She gently brushed the dust away with the sleeve of her sweater. “I couldn’t throw it away.”
I looked at the machine. “Does it still work?” “I don’t know.” She opened a nearby drawer. Inside lay dozens of neatly organized batteries. Still sealed. Still unused. “I bought new batteries every Christmas.” She laughed softly through her tears. “I suppose I hoped.” No one laughed. Hope had become the quiet heartbeat of this house. Mrs. Voss carefully inserted the batteries. The player made a soft mechanical click. Then… The tiny red power light blinked. It still worked. She looked at me. “You should do it.” My fingers trembled as I placed the cassette inside. The lid closed with a gentle snap. Nobody moved. Not Bram. Not Sabine. Not even Calder. The room had become a courtroom without a judge. Every person present was waiting for testimony from the only witness who could never return. I pressed PLAY. For several seconds… Nothing. Only static. The soft hiss of old magnetic tape. Then… A man’s voice.
Young. Warm. Gentle. “Testing…” A small laugh followed. “I never know if these things are recording.” The sound hit me like a wave. I had never heard him before. Yet something inside me recognized him instantly. Not because we shared blood. Because every part of me wanted him to be real. Mrs. Voss closed her eyes. A smile broke across her face. “That’s my boy.” The recording continued. “If this tape ever reaches my son…” He laughed nervously. “That sentence still feels strange.” “I’ve only known you exist for three weeks.” “But somehow…” “I already miss you.” Silence filled the room. Even Calder quietly wiped his eyes. Lucan continued. “Your grandmother always tells me I talk too much.” Mrs. Voss laughed through tears. “I do.” The tape captured Lucan laughing. “You hear that?” “She’s correcting me even though she isn’t in the room.” Mrs. Voss covered her mouth. “He recorded this while I was grocery shopping.” The tape continued. “I don’t know if you’re a son or a daughter.” “But your grandmother insists you’re going to be stubborn.”
“I think she’s probably right.”
“I hope you inherit your mother’s kindness.”
“And if you inherit anything from me…”
“I hope it’s curiosity.”
“I hope you ask questions.”
“I hope you never accept easy answers.”
The room became painfully quiet.
Because that…
More than anything…
Was exactly what had brought me here.
Questions.
Lucan continued speaking.
“I’ve already started fixing your bedroom.”
“I know.”
He laughed again.
“You aren’t even born yet.”
“But I painted it yesterday.”
“I picked light blue.”
“Your grandmother says babies don’t care what color walls are.”
“Maybe she’s right.”
“But I wanted everything perfect.”
Mrs. Voss quietly whispered,
“It was perfect.”
She looked around the preserved bedroom.
“This was going to become yours.”
My throat tightened.
Lucan kept talking.
“I built a little bookshelf.”
“I know babies can’t read.”
“But someday…”
“I’ll read to you.”
“I’ve already bought six books.”
“I’ve started practicing the voices.”
“I think my bear voice still needs work.”
Even through tears…
Mrs. Voss laughed.
“He was terrible.”
“He made every animal sound exactly the same.”
For the first time since entering that house…
Real laughter echoed through the room.
Brief.
Fragile.
Beautiful.
Then the tape became serious.
“If something happens before we meet…”
A long pause.
“I need you to remember something.”
“I wasn’t afraid of being poor.”
“I wasn’t afraid of losing the business.”
“I wasn’t afraid of disappointing my father.”
“The only thing that frightened me…”
“…was the possibility that someone would convince you I didn’t love you.”
My breathing stopped.
Lucan continued.
“If that ever happens…”
“I need you to fight that lie.”
“Fight it every day.”
“Don’t let bitterness become your inheritance.”
“Choose kindness.”
“Choose honesty.”
“Choose people who stay.”
He paused again.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about fathers.”
“My own father taught me how to build things.”
“He also taught me how pride destroys families.”
“I hope…”
“I break that pattern.”
“I hope when you’re scared…”
“…you run toward the people you love.”
“Not away from them.”
Mrs. Voss quietly began crying again.
“That’s exactly who he was.”
She whispered.
“He always ran toward people.”
The tape crackled softly.
Then Lucan laughed again.
“I should probably stop talking.”
“If I keep going…”
“…your grandmother will tell me I’ve filled an entire cassette.”
A woman’s voice suddenly echoed faintly in the background.
“Lucan!”
Mrs. Voss gasped.
“That’s me.”
“Dinner’s ready!”
The tape captured Lucan laughing.
“See?”
“I told you.”
“My mother always knows when I’m avoiding food.”
His footsteps echoed.
Then…
Before the recording ended…
He came back.
Almost as though he’d forgotten something.
“Oh.”
“One last thing.”
“If we ever meet…”
“I hope you hug me first.”
“I’m probably going to cry.”
“I’ve waited a long time to become your dad.”
The tape clicked.
Silence.
Complete silence.
No one inside the room moved.
No one spoke.
The cassette had ended.
But somehow…
My father had just walked back into the house.
I lowered my head.
Tears fell freely onto the old cassette player.
I whispered words I had waited my whole life to say.
“I would’ve hugged you first.”
Mrs. Voss wrapped both arms around me.
Neither of us tried to stop crying.
Across the room…
Bram quietly sank into the old chair.
Sabine covered her face.
Even Calder looked broken.
For the first time in decades…
No one argued.
No one lied.
No one defended themselves.
The only thing left in Lucan’s room…
Was the truth.
And the voice of a father…
Who had loved his son long before they ever had the chance to meet.
END OF PART 10
