Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The bell above the door to the agency chimes softly. Todd looks up from where he’s browsing on his laptop at his desk, which faces the wall-length windows of the main room. He, Dirk, and Farah had all agreed that Dirk would get far too distracted by people-watching if he were to sit there. Besides, Dirk was more than happy to take the desk in front of the giant wooden plaque. They’ve only had it a week, and he still beams every time he lays eyes on it.

Which he isn’t doing right now, as Todd is currently the only one present in the agency. He turns and stands up to greet the visitor, a man, as he enters the main room. The man is wearing a judgmental expression and a serious-looking jacket.

“Hi, welcome to, uh, our detective agency,” Todd says. The agency hasn’t gotten enough visitors for Todd to have smoothed out his standard greeting just yet.

The man gives Todd a scrutinizing once-over. “Hi. I’m looking for Farah Black,” he says, and throws a glance around the room. “She…works here now, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Todd replies. “She does. She and Dirk are out grabbing us lunch right now, but they should be back in a couple minutes.” When the man doesn’t respond immediately, he continues, “Sorry, can I ask who you are, exactly?”

“I’m her brother. Eddie Black,” he says flatly.

Todd blinks. “Oh. Oh!” He realizes he’d never actually seen or met Eddie face-to-face last month, only Farah had. “Right, hi. I’m Todd Brotzman.”

“I know who you are.”

Todd mentally kicks himself. The FBI’s wanted list. “Right, of course you do. Do you wanna, um, sit down?” He gestures toward the blue sofa they put in the main room for guests.

Eddie nods. “Sure,” he says, taking a seat on the sofa. Todd sits back down in his desk chair, facing Eddie.

The ensuing silence seems to echo in the office’s high ceilings and creates a tension in the usually cheery atmosphere. Todd clears his throat awkwardly.

Eddie opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it and takes a breath. “I…I heard about what you did for my sister,” he finally says, not making eye contact. Todd frowns, confused. “How you saved her, that is. After she was shot. Twice,” he explains. He looks up and meets Todd’s eyes. “Thank you,” he says, and his tone still isn’t exactly warm, but there’s an honesty to it.

Todd blinks a couple times, processing. “Oh…Yeah, of course,” he says softly. “It was…It was nothing. It was the least I could do.”

Eddie holds his gaze with Todd, and the bell over the door chimes again. The two men turn around to see Farah and Dirk walk in, carrying takeout from Panera. Dirk is rambling rapidly about, of all things, the hammer of Thor, before he and Farah notice Eddie. They stop.

“Eddie,” Farah says, her easygoing expression immediately disappearing as she clenches her jaw and straightens her posture.

“Farah,” he returns, standing up.

Dirk glances between the siblings, then at Todd, who imperceptibly tilts his head towards the kitchen at the back of the office.

“Ah, here, let me take that for you,” Dirk says, taking the bag of food from Farah’s hands, which she wordlessly lets him do. “We’ll be in the kitchen, if you need anything,” he says to both Farah and Eddie. Dirk and Todd hastily exit out the back to the kitchen, closing the door behind them, leaving the siblings still in silence.

“Why are you here?”

“It’s good to see you again. You seem well.”

“I asked,” Farah says through gritted teeth. “Why are you here?”

Eddie sighs. He looks forlorn, but Farah refuses to loosen up. She hasn’t forgotten the harsh judgments he had voiced about her choice of career and friends, just over a month ago. Why is he barging in on her life like this? Why couldn’t he just call?

“I guess you lost the phone I gave you. I had to track you down again, although it was definitely easier this time,” Eddie says, glancing briefly at the massive plaque emblazoned with Dirk Gently’s name (Farah is somewhat grateful Eddie at least hasn’t noticed the stack of business cards on Dirk’s desk that Dirk had insisted on printing, broadcasting his name and office’s address to everyone to which he quite liberally handed them out). “I’ll get to the point. Mom wants to see you.”

Farah’s eyebrows shoot up. “Mom?”

Eddie nods. “She missed you at dad’s funeral. I told her you wouldn’t be there, but she flew all the way out here anyway.”

“Oh,” Farah says, frowning. “The funeral… Oh, no.” She squeezes her eyes shut and turns aside. “Everybody knew, didn’t they?”

“You mean, did our entire family know that you were on multiple government watch lists and had gone on the run, just after the death of your employer Patrick Spring? Yeah, they knew.”

Shit. “All right, okay, great, that’s – great. That’s just great,” Farah stammers, trying to breathe normally. She can’t believe she hadn’t considered that earlier, although in her defense she’s been a little preoccupied lately, but – shit. She clears her throat, trying to get a grip again. She looks back up at Eddie. “Mom wants me to visit, though? That’s what you came to say?”

“Yeah. Here’s her number, in case you lost that too,” he replies, taking a folded piece of paper from one of the pockets of his tactical jacket and offering it to her. Farah steps closer and takes it, her gaze fixed to the floor.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. Farah looks up. He lightly places a hand on her shoulder, her left shoulder, the one bearing two new bullet scars hidden underneath her blouse and jacket. “I’m glad that you’re okay.”

For a moment, Farah is thirteen again and Eddie is sixteen, and he’s just finished wrapping the bandages around her arm after a mishap in her karate class, and his brown eyes are warm and caring and she’s…safe.

Farah blinks, and she’s twenty-nine again and back in the present. She tries to smile. “Thanks, Eddie,” she says softly. They’ve never been the hugging type, nobody in her family is – or at least nobody in her father’s family – so she steps back and nods. “I’ll give Mom a call.”

Eddie half smiles. “Take care of yourself, Farah,” he says, and sees himself out, the bell chiming softly in his wake.

Farah looks at the number written on the piece of paper in her hand. She sighs, reaching for her phone. “No sense in putting it off,” she whispers to herself.

“May I ask what all that was about, with your brother?” Dirk asks between mouthfuls of his sandwich. Farah has joined them in the kitchen where they’ve set out each of their lunches on the table.

She stirs her spoon around in her cup of soup a few times before answering. “Yeah,” she finally says. “My mom wants to see me.”

Dirk and Todd both look surprised. That’s expected; she’s never mentioned her mother to them, after all. They obviously have no idea what to ask or whether they even should ask, so Farah decides to volunteer an explanation. “My parents divorced when I was fourteen. My mom stuck around in Seattle until I graduated high school, and then she moved back to the east coast to Hampton, Virginia where she grew up and her family lives. She remarried a while afterwards, and now she and her new husband live in Arlington, near Washington, D.C. I’ve only visited a few times, and it’s been a couple years since I last went.” Farah stops there.

“Does she want to see you…because of your father’s passing?” Todd says carefully.

Farah nods. “Since I missed the funeral while we were on the run, and then everything with the Wendimoor-Bergsberg case.” (She and Todd had soundly rejected Dirk’s suggestion to call it the ‘Wendiberg’ case, on account of that sounding like something a fast food chain would sell.) “I called her just now and we spoke, so…” she gulps. “I’ll be going soon.”

Dirk takes a thoughtful bite of his sandwich. Todd sips his soda. “So,” Dirk says. “If you’ll forgive me for asking this, but what is your mother…like, exactly? Is she like your dad? You don’t seem particularly overjoyed about the prospect of visiting her, is all I mean.”

Farah suddenly and poignantly remembers exactly what she said to Dirk and Todd about her feelings toward her family when the love spell washed over them at Sound of Nothing. Ah. She tries not to blush at the memory of it.

“No,” she replies to Dirk. “She’s not like my dad. Actually, she’s practically his opposite. She never had the same expectations of me that my dad did. She just…We just grew apart, after the divorce, I guess. But that’s not entirely her fault.”

They eat in silence for a minute, and Farah feels incredibly guilty for bringing something so personal and heavy to their attention. “Dirk, um,” she says. “What were you telling me about the hammer of Thor, earlier?”

The change in conversation tactic works, as Dirk leaps on the subject with renewed enthusiasm. It isn’t until the end of the day, as they’re each about to go upstairs to their respective apartments above the agency, that she brings the subject up again.

“I thought I’d let you guys know,” she says, Dirk pausing while locking up his desk and Todd looking up from his phone. “I haven’t booked anything yet, but I’m planning to fly out on Friday, spend Saturday and Sunday with my mom, and fly back here on Monday,” Farah says. She’s unable to meet either of her friends’ eyes.

“Farah,” Todd says. “Are you sure you’re okay on your own?”

Farah looks up, surprised. “Wh-what? What do you mean?”

Dirk and Todd share a quick glance. Farah’s brain is immediately on alert.

“I was thinking…” Dirk says. “I’ve never been to Washington, D.C. before.”

Farah gapes. Of all things, she was not expecting this. “What are you—what are you saying right now?”

Todd reaches out and gently holds her elbow, a simple comforting gesture they would share during their days on the run together. “We’d like to offer to go with you, if you’ll have us. For support, you know. That’s what friends are for.” He smiles a little, and his blue eyes are so big and bright. “Only if you want us to, of course.”

Farah looks at Dirk. “Is the universe telling you to go with me?” she asks him.

“No, but it isn’t telling me not to go, either.” He smiles softly at her. “We just want to be there for you.”

A buoyant feeling fills her chest, and she can’t help the smile that breaks over her face.

“Yeah,” she says, almost laughing with relief. “Yeah, you guys can come along. That—that’d be really nice. Yeah.”

Todd smiles again and lets go of her elbow. Dirk walks around his desk and gives Farah his signature pat on the shoulder. She really does laugh at that. “Right,” she says, putting on a more brisk tone. “Well, there’s no time to waste. We should get started on planning tonight, if you guys are ready?”

“Yeah, of course,” Todd says, and Dirk nods. “Shall we, then?” Todd says, motioning toward the stairs. Of the three of them, he’s somehow ended up with the most comfortable sofa in his apartment, so they’ve started congregating there when they hang out after agency hours.

Farah hums in agreement, and they head up the stairs together. She still has a smile on her face as she switches off the lights on her way out.

Chapter Text

Plane tickets are bought, a hotel room is booked, and bags are packed. (The last is done after a lot of procrastination from Dirk, and involves a lot of panicked last-minute scrambling and searching for pajamas, but it is done in time nonetheless.) Everything at the airport goes uncharacteristically smoothly and almost before they know it, Farah, Todd, and Dirk are on the 1:55pm flight from Seattle to D.C.

To both Todd and Farah’s surprise, Dirk falls asleep almost immediately after the plane takes off. He doesn’t even wake when food comes around.

“Maybe he didn’t sleep much last night?” Todd suggests softly. Farah shrugs. “Maybe.” She and Dirk have both recovered from the wounds they sustained during the last case, but she knows that Dirk’s leg still gives him some trouble. It probably will for a long time. She tries not to worry, he would’ve said something if he was really having difficulty with all the walking they did through the airport. Although she isn’t sure she’s happy about the alternative, that he might have been having trouble sleeping at night. She tries to shake the thoughts off, and focus on the book she brought with her, a novel about a magical detective in London.

-

Dirk smiles up at the big blue sign that greets them as they descend an escalator. National Airport is, of all the airports he’s ever seen, the only one he could come close to calling ‘pretty’ with its golden vaulted ceilings, huge windows, and glossy black floor. (His smile falters momentarily as he recalls accidentally getting one Kate Schechter started on the topic of airport aesthetics once – he thought he would be stuck sitting there listening to her all night.) But perhaps it’s the Cinnabon, still open at 10:00pm after their flight came in, that truly sways his favor towards this particular airport experience.

Dirk munches his cinnamon roll and lets Farah and Todd lead him around and bring them to the taxi queue. They load their bags and then their selves into the car, and they’re off to the hotel.

Dirk keeps his eyes glued to the window. They’d been able to see the iconic marble monuments of D.C. from the plane as they descended, a sight Dirk had never really expected to see in all his time spent in America. He can’t see them now, but he likes taking in the sights of any new place he finds himself in, and the nighttime city streets of Arlington are no exception. Besides, the fog of sleep has cleared from his head and he’s wide awake, although Farah and Todd are clearly fading with fatigue.

It only takes fifteen minutes to reach the hotel that Farah’s booked, not wanting to impose on her mother by taking up her offer to host them all in her house. They’d booked one large-ish room with two beds and a sofa bed. Dirk had immediately called dibs on the sofa bed, mostly for his unspoken reason that he rather loathed overly soft beds and especially those in hotels, and neither of his companions had protested.

“Ooh, there’s a balcony!” Dirk exclaims the moment he walks into the room, dropping his bag and heading for the sliding glass door as Farah disappears into the bathroom and Todd sits down heavily on the sofa.

Dirk pauses, hand frozen on the door latch, as he hears the familiar rattle of a pill bottle. He half turns to see Todd dry swallowing a pill, and his heart does that little sinking thing it always does. Even after everything, Dirk still…can’t quite bring himself to be okay about it. About all of it.

Todd catches his gaze. “I’m just tired,” he says, clearly trying to reassure Dirk. “And I’m just sticking to my regular medication schedule – well, on Seattle time. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to worry about.” When they’d all finished recuperating in Bergsberg and returned to Seattle, Todd had gone to see a doctor and gotten an official diagnosis and prescription for his pararibulitis.

Dirk nods, trying to push away his lingering, stubborn guilt. He smiles as genuinely as he can. “Yes. Good. Of course.”

Farah emerges from the bathroom. They both look at her. “I think we should try and get some sleep,” she says. “We’re meeting my mom around noon for lunch tomorrow.”

Dirk and Todd both murmur in agreement, and go off to start unpacking their bags and getting ready for bed. The moment passes.

It’s two in the morning.

Farah would give literally anything to be asleep right now. Instead, she’s mired in her own treacherous thoughts, awash in memories she’s spent years pushing away. Memories of her childhood, her mom, her dad, her brother… Mostly her dad, really. Of the things he told Farah when she was small, the big dreams he had for her, and the things he said after she failed so utterly to achieve them… And her brother’s coldness, and her mother’s absence…

Her shoulder feels stiff, and her constant tossing and turning isn’t helping. To be fair, her internal clock thinks it’s only 11:00pm, but she is sick of being held prisoner by her waking thoughts. She glances over at Todd, a lump under white sheets on the bed next to hers, who fell asleep practically the moment they turned out the lights. And Dirk… Is Dirk asleep?

There’s a dividing wall between the side of the room with the beds and the side with the sofa, and Farah hasn’t heard anything from Dirk’s side all night, but… She has a hunch, or something.

She gets out of her bed as quietly as she can and lightly walks through the open doorway to Dirk’s side of the room. The sofa bed is empty. She blinks, and then notices the curtains drawn back from the sliding glass door to the balcony. Ah.

She slides open the glass door to find Dirk sitting in one of the chairs outside, wrapped up in the comforter from his bed, his face softly illuminated by the lights of Arlington below. He looks up at Farah and smiles, but he doesn’t seem surprised by her arrival. Farah takes a seat in the chair next to his, and Dirk wordlessly unfurls half of his comforter so that she can cover herself with it too. The air is brisk but not cold, a mild October night, but the warm blanket is appreciated.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Dirk says with sympathy in his eyes.

Farah sighs. “Yeah. I just can’t stop thinking about—everything. Too much.”

Dirk nods. Farah frowns a bit. “Although,” she says. “It’s no wonder you’re wide awake right now, you slept for ages on the plane.”

Dirk looks sheepish. “Oh. Right, I suppose I did.”

Farah tilts her head to the side. “Are you feeling okay?” she asks softly. “Is…your leg feeling okay?”

Dirk raises his eyebrows. Back when they were recuperating in Bergsberg, Farah had made him promise that he would never lie to her about how his injuries were feeling or about any pain he was experiencing. She had also insisted that they would not leave Bergsberg until Dirk could safely walk without crutches (and Todd agreed), which ended up taking nearly a month.

“Yes,” he says quickly. Then he shakes his head a little, definitely remembering the promise. “Well, what I mean is, it’s a little sore, and I suppose I’d forgotten just how much walking airports tend to require, and I certainly was a bit tired by the time our flight took off, but it’s quite alright and I’m perfectly fine. The leg isn’t bothering me to any concerning degree, and you needn’t worry. I mean it.”

Farah smiles a little. “Thanks for telling me,” she says. She knows he’s telling the truth and she tries to take his reassurance to heart, tries to block out the endless stream of worries that her brain likes to produce when it’s in overdrive on nights like tonight.

“Thank you for checking in with me,” Dirk says. “And yourself? Are you doing all right?” (Dirk had made Farah agree to the same promise, and he hasn’t forgotten it either.)

She sighs again, and looks out at the city streets and half-dark buildings spread out below them. “I’m okay. Trying not to feel too overwhelmed, but…I don’t know, it’s hard. But otherwise, I’m okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Farah turns back towards him, and looks at his pale face, so open and expressive, softened by empathy and concern for her. We’ve come a long way since that day in Patrick Spring’s office, she thinks.

“I’m not unhappy to be seeing my mom again,” she says. “But…things aren’t perfect between us, and I think she’s gonna want to talk about my dad, and that’s…” Farah searches for what to say. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Dirk nods, listening intently, but doesn’t say anything. She’s grateful to him for letting her go at her own pace.

“I didn’t give myself space to process my dad’s death right after Eddie told me about it, and then the case started up so there was really no time, and—and even though what I said to you and Todd, that one time—you know—” she has to break eye contact with Dirk, and stares down at her hands. “—even though it’s true that I know I’m not like them and that where I belong is with the two of you, I just…” Her voice becomes very soft. “I think I’m going to be carrying the weight of my past and the family that I came from for a long time.”

Farah stares at her hands in silence for another moment before slowly, hesitantly bringing her gaze back to Dirk again. His eyes are shining with emotion and he’s wearing the gentlest expression she’s ever seen on him.

“Then we’ll help you carry it,” he says softly. “Me and Todd, we both will. We’ll help you, we’ll support you. Anything you need.” He’s silent for a moment, and then adds, “You’re not alone, Farah.”

She smiles, blinking away the tears pricking at her eyes. “Thank you, Dirk.”

“And you should really get some sleep tonight,” he says in a lighter tone, patting her blanket-covered knee. “It’s two in the morning, Farah! We’re on the east coast, time is a whole different thing out here!”

Farah laughs quietly. “Hey, the same goes for you, too. I knew I shouldn’t have let you buy that late-night Cinnabon, that stuff is pure sugar.”

“I’ll have you know that icing-drenched swirl of cinnamon and dough was a life-changing experience and quite frankly, I’m appalled you Americans have been keeping it a secret from me all this time,” Dirk says with a pout.

Farah raises an eyebrow. “Have you seriously never been to a Cinnabon before?”

“Seriously!” Dirk exclaims, then glances over his shoulder at the glass door, somewhere behind which Todd is presumably asleep. “Seriously,” he repeats in a lower voice.

Farah rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Well, I guess we can stop by again on our way back to Seattle,” she says.

“As if that was ever in doubt,” Dirk scoffs.

Farah laughs. She realizes that her conversation with Dirk has relaxed her enough that her exhaustion is catching up to her, and all she wants now is to head back to bed. She stands, and so does Dirk, politely taking his blanket from her. They exchange “good night”s and Farah wraps one arm around him in a quick hug, and the two head back inside and to their respective beds. Farah falls asleep seconds after her head hits the pillow.

Morning is, as expected, rough. Only Todd, who actually got a full night of sleep, is able to get up in time to take advantage of the hotel breakfast downstairs. When he comes back upstairs around ten o’clock, Farah and Dirk are both still in their beds.

“I got you guys some coffee and pastries,” he announces. Farah rolls over and squints her eyes open to see Todd putting the cups and food down on the table in the other room.

She stumbles out of bed, as does Dirk, and they both sit down sleepily around the table. Todd is wearing the satisfied smile of someone who isn’t usually a morning person but has, for once, successfully gotten up early.

Farah and Dirk share a glance as they reach for their coffee cups. “I think we’ve found ourselves a keeper,” Dirk says mildly.

“Mm, I think so too,” Farah replies.

Todd turns away to hide his blush, and Farah and Dirk both chuckle at him as they sip their coffee.

Farah’s mom arrives to meet them a couple hours later. From where Farah is waiting in the hotel lobby with Dirk and Todd, she instantly recognizes the red car that pulls up outside and expertly parallel parks in an empty space.

Her mother walks through the lobby doors, looking just as Farah remembered her. With a start, Farah realizes that, now that she’s in her late twenties, she looks more like her mother than ever before. They’ve always had the same deep brown eyes, skin tone, coiled natural hair (although her mother’s is styled shorter), even close to the same height. The only noticeable differences are her mother’s slightly rounder face and flatter nose, which Eddie takes after.

“Farah!” her mom exclaims when she spots her daughter. She rushes over and embraces Farah in a tight hug, which Farah warmly returns.

“Hi mom,” she says softly. “It’s good to see you.”

Her mom gives a last squeeze and then pulls away, holding Farah at shoulder length. “Oh, my girl,” she says, and raises one hand to cup Farah’s face. “Look at you. You look so well.”

“So do you,” Farah says, smiling while blinking several times to fend off the tears trying to form in her eyes. She didn’t plan on getting emotional, but it really has been a long time. Then she remembers— “Oh, let me introduce my friends,” she says, turning to where Dirk and Todd are awkwardly smiling and watching. To be honest, she’s mildly amused at how dorky they both look right now. “Mom, this is Dirk and Todd. Guys, this is my mom.”

“Ruth Desta. You can call me Ruth,” her mom says warmly as she shakes hands with each of them.

“Todd Brotzman. It’s very nice to meet you,” Todd says politely.

“Dirk Gently. I absolutely adore your jacket,” Dirk says, because of course he loves Ruth’s yellow floral jacket.

“Thank you,” she says sweetly. “That’s a very nice one you have yourself.”

Dirk beams in return, never tired of praise for his black jacket with the mixed-up rainbow stripes, which he hasn’t gone a single day without wearing since he got it.

“All right, we’d better get going, I made us reservations for noon. We can talk more over lunch,” Ruth says with a wink, and leads the way back outside to her car. Dirk and Todd shoot encouraging smiles at Farah, and she smiles back.

Ruth takes them to a nice restaurant on the waterfront in D.C.,  just across the river from Arlington.

The conversation so far has mostly been small talk about the menu, the location, the weather, and whatever else. Dirk tunes most of it out but finds himself quite fond of Ruth’s voice, gentle and sweet, much like Farah’s. Dirk has spent enough time in America at this point that he’s gradually built up his recognition of regional accents, and he can hear both the east coast roots and west coast influences in Ruth’s voice, as well as a slight southern lilt. You could hear someone’s entire life story in their voice, Dirk thinks. He wonders what people think when they hear his.

“So, Dirk,” Ruth says, pulling him out of his reverie. “Farah didn’t give me much to go on, so I thought I’d ask you what it is exactly that you three do?”

“Ah,” says Dirk, brightening. “I’m a holistic detective, and the three of us operate our brand new holistic detective agency.”

“And a holistic detective is…?”

Dirk takes a deep breath before launching into his lovingly practiced spiel. “It means that we believe in the fundamental interconnectedness of all things. Rather than concerning ourselves with such mundane things as clues or evidence, we see the solution to any problem as ascertainable from the pattern and web of the whole, such that—”

“Right, right,” Ruth interrupts. “So, what kinds of cases does that entail?”

Dirk steals a glance at Farah, who had made him and Todd agree beforehand not to tell her mother about any of the ‘weird stuff’ they’ve been involved in — anything supernatural or magical or government conspiracy-related. Apparently the subject hadn’t gone down too well with her brother before and she didn't wish to repeat the experience.

“Um, well, let’s see, there was, um, the business with the, um—” Dirk stammers for a moment, before Farah interjects.

“Dirk and Todd helped me find Lydia Spring when she went missing, back in the summer,” Farah says. Dirk is grateful for the save.

“It was more like we were the ones helping Farah, though,” Todd says with a modest smile. Dirk nods vigorously in agreement.

“Oh,” Ruth says, interested. “But that’s incredible! Had she been kidnapped? And what happened to Patrick Spring? Was that awful business mixed up in the same case? I know officially it’s unsolved, but were you three involved in that too?”

“Um…” Farah says. “Well, yes, but it’s a little complicated, and...weird.”

Ruth looks pointedly at each of them. “Was it aliens? You tell me right now if it was aliens.”

Dirk and Todd both have to suppress their laughter. Farah groans. “No, it wasn’t aliens, Mom.”

“All right, fine, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It was a shame to hear about, though,” she says with sympathy in her voice, and she turns to Farah. “I really am sorry, Farah. I know how close both you and your father were to Patrick.”

“Yeah,” is all Farah says, her eyes fixed on the tablecloth. Dirk feels a pang in his chest, remembering her tear-filled breakdown and his own helplessness on that day in Spring’s office, which feels so long ago now.

“How’s Lydia doing, though?” Ruth asks.

“Um...studying abroad, at the moment,” Farah replies. Ruth raises an eyebrow.

“She’s the main source of our agency’s financial backing, actually,” Todd adds.

“She rewarded me a substantial sum of money after we saved her,” Farah explains.

Ruth smiles. “Well, how very generous of her. I always knew that girl would turn out well.”

Farah laughs lightly. Moments later, the waiter arrives with everyone’s food, and for a few moments everyone is preoccupied with eating.

“So,” Ruth says between bites of pasta. “What’s your story, Todd? Where’re you from, how’d you get involved in the agency?”

“Well, I grew up in Oregon, but I went to college at University of Washington,” Todd says, and Ruth smiles approvingly at the mention of college. “...until I dropped out after three semesters,” Todd continues, and to his credit he seems unfazed by the fading of Ruth’s smile. “But I stayed living in Seattle, and then I was sorta taking care of my sister for a while. So I was working at the Perriman Grand Hotel when Patrick Spring was killed, which is how I met Dirk and eventually Farah.”

Dirk and Farah are both impressed by the ease with which Todd has sidestepped pretty much every bizarre element of the story while still technically telling the truth, and by the fact that Ruth seems to accept it.

“Farah went to UW as well, as I’m sure you know,” Ruth comments. Todd nods knowingly while Dirk says, “Wait, what?”

They all look at him in surprise. “You didn’t know that?” Todd says.

Dirk shakes his head. “Of course not! Neither of you ever mentioned it!”

“Yeah, I got a degree in criminal justice from UW,” Farah says. “I’m sure we talked about it? Or was that... oh.”

The three of them all simultaneously realize that Todd and Farah must have talked about that one during their two months on the run (something that Farah has also told Dirk and Todd that she is determined not to let her mother find out about), while Dirk was…

Ruth raises her eyebrows. “Everything alright?”

“Yes!” Dirk replies quickly. “I was away from Farah and Todd for a little while after our first case, I suppose I still have some catching up to do, is all.” He laughs lightly and manages to make it sound not very fake at all.

Ruth blinks, and shrugs. “Okay.”

After a few minutes of them all eating in silence, Ruth looks up with a playful glint in her eyes. “So have y’all heard the story of the time Farah stole a candy bar from a Circle K when she was little?”

Dirk and Todd both grin. “No,” they say in unison, while Farah gasps in horror. “Mom, no!”

Ruth smirks mischievously.

Everyone feels relaxed and well-fed afterwards, and Ruth brings them all back to her home. It’s a two-story house with a front porch, located on a side street in Arlington with a more suburban vibe. (It’s called North Adams Street, and Todd feels a tiny ache in his heart as he notices Dirk’s gaze linger on the name on the sign for a little too long.) As they walk up the steps to the front door, they can hear faint barking from inside.

“Oh, I forgot to mention, we have a dog, Ford,” Ruth says to Dirk and Todd. Dirk’s entire face lights up, and Todd can’t help but smile fondly.

Ruth opens the door and a little dog with short, curly, golden-brown fur is already sitting in the entrance, wagging its tail.

“Oh, hello Ford!” Dirk gasps, and immediately bends down to pet him. Todd shares a glance with Farah and knows that they’re both feeling the same sense of endearment towards Dirk right now.

Ruth offers them coffee and tea, and Farah and Todd follow her into the kitchen to help. To no one’s surprise, Dirk wanders off to the living room where Ford has gone.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t meet Richard, my husband,” Ruth says. “He’s away at a conference until Tuesday.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Todd says. He glances over at Farah, fetching mugs out of a cabinet, and he can tell from her face that she’s not the biggest fan of this Richard guy anyway.

When they head into the living room, Ford is sprawled out on the sofa and Dirk is standing by the mantelpiece, staring at one of the framed photographs resting on it.

He turns around halfway when the others come in, but otherwise doesn’t move.

“Dirk?” Farah says softly. Todd looks at the photo that’s caught Dirk’s attention. It’s a photo of Ruth and a tall man with brown hair, smiling while standing in front of a cathedral in some European city.

“Oh, um. I was just wondering, where was this photo taken?” Dirk asks mildly, but it’s obvious to Todd that he’s feigning his levity.

“Oh, that was in Romania,” Ruth says with a smile, taking no notice. “Transylvania, actually. The city of—let me see if I can say this right — Cluj-Napoca.”

Dirk nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “Ah, right,” he says airily. He sits down on the sofa next to Ford and starts petting him absentmindedly. Todd takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, and Farah and Ruth sit on the loveseat across the room.

“When did you go to Romania?” Farah asks, her expression curious.

“Back in May,” Ruth replies. “Richard’s mother was from Transylvania, you see. He wanted to visit as a tribute to his heritage,” she adds. “Oh! And his father was English like you, Dirk.”

Dirk’s eyes widen and he blinks rapidly. “Oh,” is all he says.

Something tugs at the edge of Todd’s memory, an echo of a strange name shouted menacingly in an empty house, Dirk curled on a bed in his red leather jacket…

“So you two travel a lot?” Todd says, deciding the conversation needs a new direction.

The conversation continues a little longer, and Dirk seems to recover quickly back to his usual self. They eventually end up discussing Ruth’s time as a PhD student at University of Washington, and then her time teaching in Seattle, and the private school in D.C. at which she teaches now.

At the next pause in conversation, however, Ruth sets down her mug of tea. “If you boys don’t mind,” she says. “I’d like to talk with Farah upstairs, for a moment. I’m sorry to leave you alone down here, but I’m sure Ford will keep you good company.”

“We don’t mind at all,” Dirk says, while Todd says “Of course, of course,” and throws a glance at Farah, trying to emote are you okay? vibes through his eyes alone. She looks nervous but willingly stands up to join her mother, so Todd changes his gaze to reassuring and hopes for the best as they leave the room.

A hundred possibilities run through Farah’s head as she follows her mother up the stairs. What does she want to talk about? Her father? Does she want to question Farah’s life choices? Does she want to interrogate her about who the hell Dirk and Todd are, exactly? Farah is aware that they haven’t provided a lot of detail about their current lives, or what they’ve been doing since the Spring case, or what even happened in the ‘Spring case’, and when did she start referring to people who have been a huge part of her life as a ‘case’ anyway—

“I can practically see the gears spinning in that head of yours,” Ruth says, interrupting Farah’s spiraling thoughts. They’ve reached the top of the stairs.

“Sorry,” Farah murmurs.

Ruth smiles, and rests a hand on Farah’s shoulder. “Come on.” She leads them into the guest bedroom and gestures for Farah to have a seat. Still wary, Farah sits down on top of the green duvet and her mother sits beside her.

“Is this about Dirk and Todd?” Farah asks immediately. “Because if it is—”

“No, Farah,” Ruth shakes her head. “Well, I confess that I don’t completely understand what you’re doing with them, but I am the last person you will find questioning unconventional life choices. They’re your friends, and they clearly care about you, and that’s all I need to know.”

Farah nods slowly. “That’s- That’s very reassuring,” she admits.

“But,” Ruth continues with a sigh. “I think you know what I brought you up here to talk about.”

Farah’s heart sinks. “Dad.”

Ruth nods. “Yes.”

“Can’t we just—” Farah sighs, frustrated. “Can’t we all just move on from him? Just...leave the past in the past?”

Ruth raises her eyebrows. “Do you feel ready to move on?”

Farah looks silently into her mother’s eyes for a moment, then looks away. “Maybe not.”

“He was your father, Farah,” Ruth says, putting an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay.”

Except that it isn’t okay, is it? Farah hates to admit to it, she feels like an angst-riddled teenager that can’t get over a grudge against her dad, but there it is. She failed her dad, she failed him again and again, and she endured as his anger subsided into resentment and bitterness. And then he fell sick, and she took over his position with the Spring family, and finally she started to carve out a life for herself, finally she started to feel capable and confident, less like a vehicle for her father’s dreams and more like her own person. But she could never get far enough away from her father to truly escape his shadow, to stop lugging around the anchor of his expectations, not until Dirk and Todd came into her life. And now her father is gone. So what now?

“Hey,” her mother says softly. “There you go again. What are you thinking about?”

Farah shakes her head, her vision blurred with tears. “I just hate how it ended,” she says hoarsely. “That I finally got him out of my life, and he died hating me, and I wasn’t even there. It all just...ended without me. And things never got better.”

Her mother drops her arm. “He didn’t hate you, Farah,” she says. “You must know that.”

Farah furrows her brow. “How can you know that? You weren’t even there when— when everything went wrong, years ago. You—”

“I spoke to him,” Ruth interrupts. “I was there for the last few days of his life. We spoke.”

Farah’s jaw goes slack. “What?” she says, an edge in her voice. “Eddie told me you only came for the funeral.”

Ruth shakes her head. “I went to him before he died. He was the father of my children, after all. And somebody had to make the funeral arrangements.”

Farah is still processing. Her mother hadn’t come back to Seattle since she left after Farah’s high school graduation over ten years ago. But she came back...for Dad? After all this time?

Meanwhile, Ruth has gotten up and slid open one of the drawers of the dresser. She pulls something out: an envelope.

Farah’s heart starts hammering in her chest. No. No.

“This is for you,” Ruth says, holding the envelope out to Farah. It has Farah’s name written on it in all-too-familiar handwriting. “It’s the last things your father wanted to say to you.”

Farah shakes her head. Her blood is boiling. “No. Absolutely not.”

“What—”

“What the hell?” Farah clocks the stern look her mother is giving her and backs down a little. “Sorry, sorry for swearing at you. I’m sorry. But I can’t do this. I- I refuse to read whatever the hell is in that letter. I will not let Dad do that to me, you can’t ask that of me.”

“Nothing in this letter is going to hurt you, Farah. I promise,” Ruth insists, still holding the letter out to her.

Farah laughs bitterly. “Yeah, I’d love to believe that.”

“Farah. Just give him a chance.”

“Give him a chance?” Farah echoes, infuriated. She can tell Ruth immediately regrets her choice of words, but Farah is too angry to care. “How can you defend him? Don’t you know the things he said to me, the way he treated me?” Farah crosses her arms and purses her lips, then says, “Oh, wait, you don’t. Because you ran away and you left me behind.”

Ruth looks angry now too, but she doesn’t say anything. She lowers her hand holding the letter.

“I’m sorry,” Farah says, shaking her head. “But I will not let Dad continue to make me miserable from beyond the grave.” With that, she gets up and strides out of the room.

“Farah!” Ruth calls after her. Farah ignores it and goes straight down the stairs.

“We’re leaving,” Farah says to Dirk and Todd, not breaking her stride and heading for the door. The two exchange a glance, then immediately follow after her.

Farah is out the door and almost at the sidewalk, Dirk and Todd close behind her, when her mother calls out sharply from the doorway, “Farah, don’t you dare walk out on me!”

Farah doesn’t reply, and keeps walking.

“Farah…” Dirk says after a couple minutes. “Where are we going?”

Farah slows to a stop. She’s been too heated to pay attention to anything but her tumultuous thoughts. She takes in her surroundings. They’ve gone a few blocks, but they’re still on North Adams Street with all its respectable houses. Across the street, there’s a little neighborhood park.

Farah sighs, and gestures towards the park. “I don’t know. Maybe we should sit down for a minute.”

Dirk and Todd nod, and she can see the concern in their eyes. It’s justified, she knows.

The park, which is really just a playground, is empty of other people. They sit down on a bench, Farah between the other two, and just breathe for a moment. At least, that’s what Farah’s doing.

“I want to fly back to Seattle,” Farah says after a minute. “As soon as possible.”

“Okay,” Todd agrees immediately. “That’s fine.”

Dirk nods silently. Farah glances at him and asks, “Are you having...a hunch, or anything?”

“No, no hunches at all,” he replies innocently. “Although the swingset over there is calling to me.”

“Go right ahead,” Farah says, and sits back with a sigh as she watches Dirk take off for the swings.

Todd stays where he is. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly, unknowingly echoing Dirk’s words from last night.

Farah drums her fingers on her knee. “I guess. Yeah.” She hesitates, glances into Todd’s big blue eyes and then looks down again. “My mom wants to give me a letter my dad wrote for me. Before he died.”

“Oh,” Todd says. “Is that what upset you?”

Farah nods. He doesn’t sound judgemental at all, just curious. Dirk was right, they both do just want to be there for her. (Well, Dirk’s swinging on a swingset right now, but that’s okay, Farah doesn’t think she could handle talking about this to both of them at the same time right now. Maybe Dirk understood that.)

“It’s probably the last thing on earth that I would want, to hear whatever my dad had to say to me,” Farah continues. “And I- I don’t know, it feels like a betrayal that Eddie and my mom didn’t even mention it, and she just sprung it on me now, and I didn’t even know that she went to see him before he died. I mean, she never bothered to come back to Seattle before…”

Todd lets the silence linger for a moment, then speaks haltingly. “Do you… Do you think, maybe, part of the reason you’re upset—which is totally understandable—is because, maybe, you’re scared? Of what might be in that letter.”

Farah turns to face Todd, surprised. “What?”

Todd backtracks, “No, sorry, I just mean, like—”

“No, no,” Farah interrupts. “No, I...I think you’re right, maybe.” She looks into the distance again, and her gaze settles on Dirk, who has his back to them, rising and falling through the air. “Yeah,” she says softly. “I guess I’m scared that I’ll get hurt again. And that there’ll be no coming back from it. Because he’s gone.”

Farah’s left hand is gripping the front edge of the bench, and Todd lightly places his right hand over it, another comforting gesture from their fugitive days. She smiles a little.

“I know I can’t promise anything about the contents of that letter,” Todd says. “And it’s entirely up to you, and we can go back to Seattle tomorrow if that’s what you want. But, for what it’s worth… I think there’s a chance that reading it might help you. It might give you...closure.”

Farah looks at Todd for a long moment, considering. “When did you get so wise?” she asks.

Todd chuckles, a little sheepish. He rolls one shoulder in a shrug. “Blame Dirk, I guess. You don’t have to listen to me, though,” he says. “I just want you to be okay. So it’s up to you.”

Farah smiles. “Thanks, Todd.”

He nods in return. “Mind if I go get Dirk?”

“Not at all.”

Todd winks and stands up, then quietly runs up behind Dirk and gives his swing a hard push.

“Noooo!” Dirk yelps as his swing is launched high into the air. “Todd!”

Todd cackles as Dirk’s feet scramble to find the ground as he descends again, and Dirk hops off the swing with all the grace of a newborn deer, and narrowly avoids being hit by the seat as it bounces around chaotically.

Dirk brushes himself off theatrically, throwing a playful glare at Todd, then walks over to Farah.

“Everything okay?” he asks kindly.

Farah smiles. “Getting there.”

Chapter Text

Farah lies awake, staring at the dark ceiling. Again.

“Sorry if this is a weird ask,” Dirk had said when they got back to the hotel. “But, um, would either of you mind if I took a nap?”

“I was honestly about to suggest the same thing,” Todd had replied.

So Farah had gone along with it too, and now here she is, lost in thought again while the other two sleep. But she doesn’t mind, she wanted the time to think anyways.

Closure. It seems obvious now, but she hadn’t thought about it before. She’d thought she already had closure, she supposes, at Sound of Nothing, when she first realized she was good enough despite anything her father or her brother or anyone said. But her past wouldn’t let her get away that easily, it seems. Maybe the universe needs her to confront her past, her father, one more time. Maybe that’s what she needs. Maybe that’s the way forward.

At some point, Farah’s eyelids grow heavy, and she drifts into sleep.

They wake up in the evening and eat dinner in the hotel. They feel a little less groggy after that, and it’s only nine o’clock, so Farah makes a suggestion. Dirk and Todd immediately agree to it.

The Lincoln Memorial at night has always been Farah’s favorite part of any visit to D.C. It’s a short ride from the hotel, due east on the other side of the river. Especially in autumn, tourism is low and the only other people around are a handful of amateur photographers, slightly delirious but mostly harmless college kids, people walking their dogs, and quiet couples out for a stroll.

Farah sits between Dirk and Todd on the marble steps facing the reflecting pool and the monument, respectively a glittering inky black and a shining white pillar rising into the night sky. Behind them are the glowing columns of the Lincoln and the massive statue of its namesake. The weather is even a little warmer than last night, and definitely warmer than Seattle right now.

“Wow,” Todd says.

“I see why you like it here,” Dirk says. They’re both transfixed by the view.

Farah smiles. “It’s nice, huh?”

They both nod, and all three of them are quiet for a minute.

Farah breaks the silence. “I’m gonna go back to my mom tomorrow,” she says.

Dirk and Todd both turn to meet her eyes. “You sure?” Todd asks gently.

Farah nods. “I think you were right. I think I need to read my dad’s letter. If I have any chance at closure, real closure, then this is it. So...yeah. If I didn’t make her too mad at me today, I’ll go back tomorrow and I’ll read it.”

Dirk smiles and pats Farah on the shoulder. “I’m quite proud of you, you know,” he says.

Farah smiles back and bumps her shoulder with his. “Right back at you.”

They sit there together for a long while, talking and laughing and feeling so, so lucky to have each other.

The next day, Farah walks up to the front door of her mom’s house, alone. She left Dirk and Todd in the hotel room watching movies. They’d all woken up at noon anyway, their bodies still on Seattle time. Before she left, she’d assured them she would be okay; Farah just didn’t want to test her mother’s patience by bringing guests over again after the way she’d stormed out yesterday.

Farah takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. She hears Ford bark, and soon enough her mom opens the door.

“Farah!” she says, not a trace of anger on her face. “Where are your friends?”

“Hi, mom,” Farah says, taken aback. “Um, they’re resting at the hotel. I thought I’d just come alone, if- if that’s okay.”

“Of course, here, come in,” Ruth says, standing aside. Farah steps inside, and as soon as she shuts the door behind her, Ruth wraps her in a hug. Farah is momentarily too shocked to move, then hugs her back.

“I’m sorry for walking out like that yesterday,” Farah confesses. “I—”

“No, Farah, you’re not the one who needs to apologize,” Ruth says, pulling away from the hug. “It’s me who owes you an apology.”

“What?”

“Let’s- let’s sit down, first,” Ruth says, stammering a bit like Farah usually does. Farah follows her mother into the kitchen and they take seats around the empty table.

“I did some thinking after you left yesterday,” Ruth says, nervously running a hand over the floral tablecloth. “And I understand why you were upset.”

“You do?” Farah is surprised. She’s not sure she herself fully understands why she was upset.

Ruth nods. “You mentioned…” She hesitates, then takes a steadying breath. “Well. Well, I might as well dive right in. You mentioned yesterday that you felt like I ran away, and… you’re right, really. After I divorced your father and left Seattle, I let myself get too far away from you, and that made me unable to see how much you were struggling when… when things fell through for you.” She takes another deep breath. “I know I needed to come back to the east coast for my own sake, but it was wrong of me to leave you so alone. I didn’t support you enough, I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry, Farah.”

Farah sits in shocked silence. She has no idea what to say. Admittedly, she’s already thought a few of those things to herself over the years, but she never expected to hear any of them from her mother’s mouth.

“Thank you,” Farah finally says, still feeling at a loss. “I… I was just angry yesterday, I’m not usually that bitter, not at all. But… I wish we’d stayed closer, too.” Farah blinks away the tears in her eyes, and looks up to see her mom doing the same.

“I went back to Seattle to say goodbye to your father,” Ruth says, and Farah nods. She knows she overreacted about that one, she should’ve expected that. “As I’m sure you know, he hadn’t changed much over the years. And even though it was important to him that he put down his last words for you, I understand if you don’t want to read them. You don’t have to, I understand.”

“I want to,” Farah responds. “I decided, I- I’d like to read them.” Ruth looks surprised. Farah adds, “I think it might give me closure, or something like that.” She looks away, a little embarrassed. To be honest, she’s not sure how she’s made it through this conversation; her mother is the only family member she ever has emotional conversations with, and Farah isn’t used to it.

Ruth nods. “Okay. I’ll go get it for you,” she says, getting up and going upstairs.

Farah sits alone for a moment, staring out the kitchen window. Her mind feels so overwhelmed that it’s almost calm, strangely.

When Ruth returns, she sets the envelope on the table and puts a hand on Farah’s shoulder. “I’ll give you a minute alone, if you’d like?”

Farah nods. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Take your time, love,” her mom says, and quietly exits the room.

Farah takes a deep breath, picks up the envelope and opens it. She slowly slides the letter out. It’s just one page, folded into thirds. Heart hammering in her chest, she unfolds it. Her eyes scramble to look anywhere else in the room, her anxiety rising, but she grits her teeth and tells herself, you can do this. She starts reading.

Farah,

I don't know where you are at the time that I am writing this, but wherever you are, I hope that you are safe and that you will eventually find your way home.

These past few months have given me more clarity than I have ever had before. I have contemplated writing this letter for a while, and as it seems like my time is running out, I know I cannot wait any longer.

I have never hated you. Not for a single day of your life. I know that you think otherwise, and I know that I am to blame, and I know that I have said to you some of the worst things that a parent can say to their child. I don't have the words to express how deeply I regret so many of the things I said.

I pushed you too hard and I overburdened you with my expectations. I wanted you to have the opportunities that I could not, and I wanted you to achieve greater heights of success than I ever did, but somewhere along the way I lost sight of the only part of those dreams that mattered: you and your happiness. And because of that, I have failed you, and I have lost you.

I am not asking you to forgive me, nor to forget any of the pain that I know I have caused you. I have no right ask that of you. Whatever you make of anything else I have said in this letter, there is only one thing I truly wish to impart to you:

I wish for you to be free.

That is my only wish, for you to be free of any hold that the pain of the past may still have on you. I wish for you to be free to go forth and pursue a life that you are proud to live, wherever and with whomever that will take you. Leave me behind. Put aside the hurt and the disappointment, you do not have to carry them with you. However long it may take, I urge you to let go, and let go of me. I want you to heal, grow, prosper without me. I want you to be free.

Godspeed.
Dad

Hands shaking, Farah puts down the letter. Tears are dripping from her eyes uncontrollably, and she puts a hand over her mouth to cover a sob.

Her father was right, this isn’t enough for her to forgive him, but she realizes that he has said the best thing he could possibly have said to her as his final missive. He has said the only thing that could possibly help her lighten the weight she has been carrying all this time.

Farah stands up and goes into the living room, where her mother is sitting on the couch. “Oh, Farah,” she murmurs when she sees her daughter’s tears, and Farah immediately sits next to her and embraces her in a hug, still crying. Her mom strokes her back and says softly in her ear, “I’ve got you, my girl. I’ve got you. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom,” Farah whispers wetly. “I love you so much.”

When Farah calms down after a few more minutes, the two return to the kitchen and Ruth looks at the letter for herself. Her eyes tear up too, and she looks at Farah with understanding. They hug again.

Ruth makes them some tea, eventually, and then asks, “Would Dirk and Todd like to come over for dinner tonight?”

Farah admits to herself that she’s been craving her mom’s home cooking during this entire trip. So instead of making up excuses about not wanting to impose on her mom, Farah smiles and says, “I’ll give them a call.”

Dinner goes well. Farah, Dirk, and Todd are all determined to steer the conversation away from too much detail about their cases, so they end up talking about Ruth’s side of Farah’s family.

“Your aunt Adrienne and her wife are looking for some seaside cottage to move to,” Ruth tells Farah. “Now that they’re both retired and everything.”

“Oh?” Farah replies between bites of food. It’s no secret that Aunt Adrienne has always been her favorite relative. “Whereabouts?”

“Not sure. North Carolina, maybe?”

“Wait,” Todd says, head tilted slightly. “Your aunt Adrienne, is that where your middle name comes from?”

Farah and Ruth both smile. “Yes,” Ruth replies. “She’s my sister. It’s a bit of a Desta family tradition, my middle name Arielle comes from my mother’s sister, as well.”

Dirk politely sets down his fork, and Farah can tell he’s biting back a grin. “So, you’re saying,” he says with barely concealed excitement. “That Farah’s initials are FAB, and your initials are RAD?”

There’s a beat of silence, and the entire table breaks into laughter.

“It’s nice when things work out like that, isn’t it?” Ruth laughs.

“I absolutely love it,” Dirk proclaims, smiling from ear to ear.

“It suits you both very well,” Todd adds.

Farah shakes her head, still laughing.

Later, Farah and her mom get a moment to themselves in the living room, as Dirk and Todd had emphatically insisted on cleaning up and putting away the dirty dishes for them. Ford is taking a nap on the carpet in front of them.

“So you’re all heading back tomorrow?” Ruth says, leaning back into the couch cushions.

Farah nods. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Ruth asks, and Farah knows she isn’t just talking about the journey. Farah’s eyes flit towards the kitchen, where she can faintly hear Dirk and Todd’s voices through the wall. She meets her mother’s eyes again.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” she says softly. Ruth nods, smiling with a warmth that reaches her eyes.

“You’ve found some good friends there,” she says. “I’m happy for you.”

Farah smiles so wide it almost hurts. “Thank you.”

Ruth gives them a ride back to the hotel. They stand on the sidewalk, exchanging hugs and thank yous and goodbyes.

“Call me, and visit again when you get the chance,” Ruth says to Farah. “I mean it. Don’t be dropping off the face of the earth for some case again, all right?”

“All right,” Farah says, laughing lightly. “I’ll try my best, Mom.”

They hug each other one last time. “You have a safe trip, baby girl,” Ruth says. Farah nods. “And,” Ruth says to Dirk and Todd. “I’ve put my trust in you two, so you’d better not go and disappoint me now.”

“We won’t,” Todd says with a smile.

“We’ll do our very best,” Dirk reassures.

Ruth smiles. “Goodbye now,” she says.

“Bye, Mom,” Farah says. Ruth gets back into her car, and they wave as she drives away.

Farah turns to Dirk and Todd.

“Everything good?” Todd asks, his voice tender.

Farah nods, and she means it. “I got what I needed,” she says. “And thank you guys again, for coming with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of having it any other way,” Dirk replies, his face soft with fondness.

Farah reaches out and puts her arms around the both of them, pulling them down to her height for a hug, which they happily embrace as she says, “Let’s go home.”