Even though Cassie had prepared herself for the encounter, the sight of her father took her breath away. Not even time had softened his square-jawed sternness.

“Cassie! Come in.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“I won’t get up. Leg still giving me gyp.”

“Sure. No need,” she said, remembering the night he insisted on taking his latest vintage sports car for a spin after consuming a skinful of scotch.

“How are you? Still living in ... where was it? Madrid?” 

“No, that was a long time ago, Dad. I live in London.” 

“Still a nomad. Are you working?”

Cassie the young, aspiring dancer would have bristled at the question; older Cassie merely smiled.

“I am Director of the Circuits Ballet Company,” she said unabashedly.

“Ballet! Is there any money in that?”

“It’s not the ballet you’re used to. The performers are androids. They can do things with their bodies that humans can’t.”

“Robot ballerinas! Now I’ve heard everything!” he chuckled, and shook his white-haired head.

She thought about telling him that her company’s new production was playing to packed houses in London and they were about to embark on a sell-out tour of European capital cities. And maybe savor his reaction when she explained how the airhead daughter he disowned decades ago had pioneered a new art form and become a wealthy woman. But she demurred.

“So, what else is going on, Dad?”

*  *  *

“How did it go?” asked Julie Pettifer from behind a desk as meticulously neat as her trim figure. Her name tag read “Ever After Cemetery Avatar Counselor”

“Better than I expected,” replied Cassie, and paused. “You probably get asked this all the time, but how true-to-life is my father’s avatar?”

Julie’s faint smile confirmed Cassie’s theory about the question. “When your father died three years ago, we activated his grave avatar based on the memories and personality traits we captured while he was alive. With each visit from a friend or family member, the avatar acquires more data, learns more, and improves. The avatar you visited this morning is the most refined facsimile of your dad to date, but still not perfect.”

“It seemed scarily accurate to me,” said Cassie.

“Visiting a grave avatar can be traumatic, especially for people who find it difficult to let go of their deceased loved ones.”

“I’m not in that category,” said Cassie curtly.

“May I ask why you came today?”

Another pause. “Guilt, mainly. We haven’t spoken since I left nineteen years ago after one of our major bust-ups. I didn’t bother going to his funeral. It’s been on my mind.”

“Perhaps another visit might help?”

“Thank you but that won’t be necessary. I realize that my guilt was misplaced. We parted ways for good reason — the avatar reminded me of that. I’m reconciled now. I’ve said my last goodbye.”