CHAPTER 3

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That’d been the plan upon enrolling at Wasons College and getting into their prestigious photojournalism program. It’d been the only plan, and one I’d set course on years ago. I’d had some speed bumps along the way, but I’d ended up getting there.

We’re almost there, Dad.

A New York Times job was the real goal, the ultimate goal. My father filled the halls, and I was determined to do the same.

And definitely not expected from the photographer who made such a stir her junior year of high school." Queens reclined back, folding his fingers. "I, of course, researched you and certainly figured the young lady who photographed the Chaos in the Heartland work would be submitting me a far different body of work.".

He was discussing what I was most famous for and probably one of the biggest reasons he'd even reached out to me. When Queens had reached out to me for the internship through email, he'd informed me that my name was on a short list of candidates the school had forwarded, and to put it mildly, when one googled Mackenzie Lanka, there was only one thing listed.

I tried my best not to wriggle in the old suit I had purchased literally for today. I tended to dress in the loosest and most comfortable attire available. I crossed the country obtaining photographs, so comfort was a must. "Uh, yeah. Had a lot of excitement in high school."

Too much excitement, and definitely not something I wanted to talk about. I was the only person who could take good pictures of the fight that broke out, and so much so, that the local and national newspapers got in touch with me after they saw my photos in my high school gazette. I was Mackenzie Lanka, the high school sophomore who just happened to have her camera with her that day and had been the only one not so caught up in the fight as to record it.

There had been some irony there, my dry lips curled up as I recalled how the fight had gone down. It'd been weird, crazy, and something that I'd struggled to get over in the months that followed. Even still, it had opened up a lot of opportunities for me, and one hundred percent bulked up my Wasons College application. This was definitely something I’d needed. At the beginning of my high school career, there’d been more than a fair bit of truancy on my part.

I transformed once more, and Queens polished my portfolio across the conference table. He'd traveled from New York just to be here today at Wasons College's journalism school, my name on a short list like he'd written an email. I could visualize when his office had called, the school had let him know about me and the Chaos story. Again, it opened doors galore. Queens nodded. "Well, what you've done since has certainly shone."

"Thank you, sir."

"Again, Queens."

"Queens."

"And Mackenzie Lanka. Any relation to a Kerry Lanka?" He sat back. "I didn't know him myself, but he worked at the Times. Very prolific."

I hesitated for a moment briefly but only because it still took me a beat whenever people talked about my dad. I wasn't sure that would ever change. I nodded. "That was my father, yes."

"Aha, now it all comes together. Sense around you and your already substantial body of work. Kerry, as far as I can tell, was working the streets hard as a young man, and perhaps one of the youngest ever working for the Times."

I smiled, undoubtedly identifying this. "That was my father. Couldn't pass up the opportunity to lift his camera."

And he was great at it." Queens's smile faltered a little. "I was so upset to hear of his passing. The world definitely misses him and what he did."

My throat dry, I could only manage a nod at what Queens was saying. Again, it took a moment when talking about my father, and though his passing hadn't been exactly fresh in my mind, it wasn't like it'd been a million years since.

Nor how it had happened.

Queens bypassed that part of the discussion happily, and Mackenzie let out a sigh of relief when they returned to discussing the internship. He told her that she had a good chance at it, a great one actually.

"We're still within the selection phase, Ms. Lanka, but I don't think it's too early to let you in on the fact that you're going to receive an invitation to come in for a second interview," he told her, reaching out to take her hand and shake it. "You've already done so many great things for the medium, and I can most certainly see a rosy future for you. You're one hundred percent Kerry Lanka's daughter, and that shows through everywhere you work."

He had no idea the compliment he was giving her, actually. Mackenzie tightened her grip on his hand. "Thank you, Queens. Just. thank you." He had no idea what this meant to her. Often these internships led to actual jobs, and to be offered something like this her first year was incredible.

Is this life, right now? Really?

It was as if she had a guardian angel watching over her, her dad decidedly in place. Besides her work during the summer, she'd worked other human-interest projects and had had very few obstacles in the way. Humans allowed her to tell their stories, and for the most part, doors just seemed to open when she needed them to. Doors like this internship and going to Wasons College with a not-so-bad GPA.

Thank you, Dad.

He was sure enough there, and while Queens and Mackenzie had concluded, he still enjoyed all the inquiry questions she posed on the Times and his work. He alerted his assistant in the hallway outside the room that they were through, but he lingered to discuss with her. Mackenzie much appreciated it because she looked forward to gaining insights about the Times and her dad's earlier grounds. This was, as it happens, her fantasy, and it was starting to seem very probable to become a reality. Queens was actually discussing with her some work he had been doing recently in Australia when the door came open and his aide came into the room.