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“She won’t have gone far.”
“Her legs may be small, but she can run, my boy.”
“It’s been a minute, two at the most!”
“That’s two minutes too long. I should have kept a better eye on her.”
“Dad.”
Fists clenching, Alfendi did his best to swallow the annoyance that was rising inside of him, lest he get scolded for snapping.
By all accounts, the day was supposed to be about him. His father had urged them to go out for lunch in celebration of his sixteenth birthday, before perusing a few shops so he could pick out a present or two. Already knowing what he wanted – a new crime-fiction book and permission to visit Clive Dove – he’d fought the plans. It was only when they’d started their outing that he’d began to warm to it.
That warmth vanished when, after peering into a nearby pet store, they realised that Katrielle was nowhere in sight.
At age eight, and having been in his father’s care for three months, her curiosity of the world was growing at an alarming rate, surpassed only by her appetite. She had a tendency to wander off as she liked, her interest piqued by the smallest things. Still wary of Katrielle and her involvement in their lives, it was easy for him to feel bitter about it.
His father’s rigid hand gripped his hat. “I don’t think she’s here, but she seemed intrigued by the Thames when we walked past earlier. Do you think-”
“-that she walked back and fell in?” Alfendi let out a sharp laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “She may as well have, because when I get my hands on her-”
“This isn’t the time for that, Alfendi.”
“So you admit that there is a time?”
Returning to the Thames with more purpose than before, his father constantly scanned their surroundings, occasionally stopping to ask whether a passerby had seen her. Alfendi kept his eyes on the ground, counting the different coloured stones on the path.
“Daddy! Alfendi!” His head shot up, the cheerful yell shattering his concentration, and he watched as Katrielle skipped towards them.
“Katrielle!” His father breathed a sigh of relief, and with more effort than he’d admit, lifted her up. “My goodness, where have you been?!”
“Well,” she started, her gleaming eyes telling Alfendi it was going to be a long story, “I’ve had a problem, you see, for weeks.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m fine. But I wouldn’t have been if we went home and I didn’t have a present for Alfendi.”
Alfendi stared at her, now at eye level as she settled into his father’s arms. “A present?”
“For your birthday! You said before that you’ve never been on a boat, and I finally had an inspirational insight!”
“An inspirational insight, my girl?” Still concerned, his father checked her over to make sure she wasn’t injured, but Alfendi could see softness coming back into his features.
“Mhm. So I came back here and talked to a few sailors.”
“Katrielle, you know what I’ve told you about speaking to strangers,” his father muttered, shaking his head. He’d never taken care of a child as young as Katrielle before, and Alfendi could see that the task caused him endless concern.
Sheepish, she kept going. “I promise I won’t do it again, but one of them said he’d take us down the Thames! He was already going to the markets.”
Alfendi stared at her, open-mouthed. Just as his father’s concerns had faded, so had his growing resentment. Quickly, his mind put the pieces together. She’d been chatty over the past few weeks, constantly throwing questions his way about what his interests were, what his favourite colour was, what he would do if he had one day to do anything he liked. It had bothered him and he’d shut himself in his room to avoid the interrogation.
But the whole time, she’d been just been planning his gift.
“Well,” his father began, a smile settling onto his face, “that’s quite the present, isn’t it my boy?”
“Y-Yes,” Alfendi replied, staring at her. “Yes, it is. Th-Thank you, Katrielle.”
She smiled proudly, thrusting her chin upwards. “You’re welcome. That’s what a gentlewoman does.”
“Don’t you mean lady?”
Shaking her head, she rose her finger. “If Daddy is a gentleman, and if he wants you to be a gentleman, then I am a gentlewoman.”
“You certainly are, my girl,” his father said, still smiling as he placed her back on the ground.
Looking upon the river, the sun gleamed off it as it seemed that London was having one of its pleasant days. The warmth he’d felt earlier returned tenfold as Katrielle took their hands, leading he and his father to their awaiting ride.
–
Katrielle hadn’t stopped crying since she’d seen Alfendi’s unresponsive body on the hospital bed.
He could see how she’d tried to hide it, blinking the tears away, walking in and out of the room, offering to fetch people tea or coffee as though her body was on autopilot. The moment Hilda and Justin had left to give them some family time, it became an impossible task, and she quickly buried her head into his coat.
Hershel smoothed her hair, his heart heavy. It hurt him enough to see one of his children comatose, and the pain was worsened by seeing the other having to deal with the situation. Just seventeen, this was more than Katrielle should have to face. It felt too recently that she’d joined their family, and he couldn’t bear the thought of one of its members being torn away from her.
A lump formed in his throat.
Through her sobs, she managed to ask the question that had been sitting in his mind ever since he’d received the call. “H-How did this h-happen?”
Holding her closer to his chest, he inhaled. “His job has risks. We’ve always known that.”
“N-Nobody else got hurt. Where were they, D-Dad? Why di-didn’t they-”
Her own sob cut her off.
He couldn’t answer her question aloud. Alfendi had ignored his team’s warnings. Alfendi had gone ahead on his own. Alfendi had been the one to face the consequences of that action.
Alfendi had been out of surgery for hours now, and the doctors still didn’t know whether he’d make it through the night.
“Nobody could have predicted this, my girl.” The words nearly got stuck in his throat.
He’d known that something was amiss for months. Alfendi had never leapt at the chance for a family visit, but he’d avoided them not out of spite, but because he no longer had the time to spare. Hershel had visited Scotland Yard on a different matter just a week earlier and managed to catch him for a moment. With his DCI responsibilities, Alfendi had been tight lipped as always, but he could say that there was a large case he was in charge of, one that he was days away from solving.
His son would never have accepted help, but Hershel wished he’d offered.
Feeling light-headed, he looked over Alfendi once more. His heartbeat was steady enough, but the number of machines he was hooked up to just to survive was unnerving. His hair seemed even brighter when contrasted with his pale face, but he looked as though he could fade away any second.
But Alfendi was a fighter, his rocky upbringing was proof enough of that. He’d protested at every turn, argued at every instance. If his son was still in there somewhere, and if he wanted to survive, he would.
Despite believing it with every fibre of his being, he knew that he could not promise such a thing to Katrielle, her breathing at last beginning to steady. “Alfendi needs us now,” he murmured. “We need to be here, no matter what happens. But it’s okay to cry, I promise.”
“G-Gentlemen and gentlewomen d-don’t make scenes in public.”
“Well, Alfendi never much liked any of that, did he?”
He felt her laugh against him and she finally lifted her head, wiping her eyes. “I-I will be here for him, I p-promise. Now, and when he wakes up.”
He didn’t think it was possible to feel prouder of his daughter, but every day she proved him wrong. “That’s exactly what I’d expect from a gentlewoman.”
Falling asleep next to him as the night drew on, the rest provided Katrielle an escape from their suffocating situation. Looking upon his son, Hershel’s eyesight blurred and he could bear it no longer.
Please Alfendi, come home.
–
“He’ll come back.”
Scoffing, her brother didn’t look up from his paperwork. “That’s a nice day dream, Katrielle.”
“You know he wouldn’t leave unless it was important.”
“Wouldn’t he?” His pen continued to scribble on the form, but with more intensity. “Because I do seem to remember being left home growing up because he needed to go on some adventure, to visit old friends like Triton.”
“Jealousy looks terrible on you. He loves us, you know that.”
The pen was slammed down onto the table. “If he loved us, he’d have told us where he was going! He’d have sent us a letter! He’d have done something in the past few months to let us know that he was okay!”
Katrielle crossed her arms, waiting.
The one who had snapped hadn’t been the side she’d expected, the paler hair contrasting the behaviour. Taking a moment to compose himself, Alfendi avoided her gaze. “I’m sorry. That was unfair.”
She took the seat across from him. “What’s going on, Placid Prof?”
He groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Not you too. I can take that nickname from Lucy, since we only work from the Mystery Room, but you know half of the Yard.”
“Three quarters, by my last count,” she replied. “Now, are you going talk to me?”
Picking up the pen, he tapped it against his desk. “I… you know it’s been a confusing few months for me. I solved the case that had been haunting me for over four years, one of my closest friends turned out to be responsible, and I learned that I haven’t always existed as I thought I had. And I don’t know whether Dad knows any of this, or if the reason he hasn’t come home is because he doesn’t want anything to do with me. I’m not…”
Watching him as he breathed in shakily, she believed it was the most vulnerable she’d seen her brother, save for when he was at death’s doorstep.
“…his son.”
“He loves you so much, Placid,” she replied, reaching out to grab his hand. “I promise.”
“He loved me before he knew the truth. I’m just an intruder now.” Hair brightening, Potty emerged. “At least we agree on something.”
“Steady on,” she said, borrowing Lucy’s phrase. Hesitating, she mulled over how to tell him, deciding he’d appreciate something direct. “He suspected that your personality hadn’t changed because of your injuries.”
Placid looked up. “What?”
“He didn’t know how or why, but he knew you weren’t the son he’d raised. A bullet couldn’t change you that much, with your stubborn attitude!”
Frowning, Placid studied her face. “But he never said-”
“What good would bringing it up have done?” Katrielle interrupted. “Changed or not, he loved you. He loved your awkward yet kind nature, and your determination to solve cases. And he also loved and missed you, Potty, with your fiery attitude and passion even though you didn’t see eye to eye all the time.” She stood up, pointing towards him. “He’d never reject either side of you, and when he comes home, he’ll be thrilled to see you both!”
Placid leant backwards to avoid the assaulting finger, and while he looked more at ease, she could feel his fatigue. “Thank you, Katrielle. I… I do believe you, you know.” He paused a moment. “I just really need to talk to him about everything.”
Nodding, she sat down again. “I know. There’s so much I want to discuss with him too. When he finally returns from whatever adventure he’s on, we’re going to have a lot of catching up to do, won’t we?”
“You’d better practice your tea-making, then. We’ll all need a strong cup.”
Frowning, she crossed her arms. “I don’t need to practice.”
“Then why is Ernest the only one who makes it when I come to your agency?”
“Well, what about Lucy? When’s the last time you made tea, Alfendi?”
“Watch your mouth, Katrielle!”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll sew it shut!”
The giggle left her lips before a retort could, and through her tears she could see Alfendi smiling too, before his laughter joined hers.
For a moment, she could have sworn she heard her father’s chuckle too, and it felt like home.