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September 10, 7:30 P.M.
Kay has disappeared from the courthouse, and Detective Badd knows better than anyone the importance of what it means to find her. She's more than just a lost child right now. Her disappearance is a matter of life and death—he can't imagine the pain she must be feeling right now, knowing that her father is truly gone.
With the help of Gregory Edgeworth's son, they'd just solved Byrne Farday's murder, and in turn, learned the debilitating truth about the woman Badd had trusted with his very life.
But the truth was that she'd stolen Faraday's life instead.
The truth—a word that will never cease to be a thorn in Badd's side.
Why does it always hurt so damn much...? It feels like the knife is still stuck, deep inside, in between ribs and flesh. Maybe they would have been better off not knowing the truth at all, because now they're left with the excruciating emptiness of betrayal: Calisto Yew.
No, she'd already told Badd, that wasn't her name. Not anymore.
Where could Kay have gone in all this madness? Badd curses himself, already on the third lap of searching the courthouse from top to bottom. He's getting too old for this, he decides, because he can hardly breathe from the physical exertion of running around like this—like a man possessed—searching for her. His aching, old knees can't take this much longer, but he can't stop now.
Not until he knows Kay is safe.
Kay is a good kid. She always has been. It isn't like her to disappear so suddenly like this, regardless of how much today's events had truly affected her. Thanks to Faraday's strict discipline, she knows better than to take off on her own and leave without telling anyone—without telling him. So where is she...?
Badd can't stop thinking about the future, and what lies in store for both of them now that Faraday is gone.
What's Badd going to do now, even if he finds Kay...? He can't take her back to her house... not without Faraday, the trauma would be too much to bear. She's certainly old enough to know the truth about what happened to her father, and yet still too young to understand what it truly meant, as well as the legal implications that would ultimately follow.
Badd can look after her, maybe, until the court decides what to do with her. He hates to even think about it, but...
Kay's mother is dead, and now her father, too. Kay is an orphan now. Her custody, unfortunately, is out of his hands. Though Kay has always been like a daughter to him, Badd reminds himself, over and over again, that they're not related by blood.
He has no say whatsoever in what happens next, and yet the thought of child services coming to take her away, placing her in some sort of shady adoption program... he can't bear the thought.
And damn it all, if the worst part isn't that—even now—he has no idea what he'd even say to her if they came to take her away. How to comfort her, ease her pain. Was there even a way to help her recover from something so unfair as this?
"Still no sign of Kay!" a voice calls out to Badd from the hallway—a familiar voice, arguably just as concerned as Badd himself. Gumshoe. "We've got eyes all over the courthouse, sir! We won't stop looking until we find her!"
Badd acknowledges him with nothing short of a dissatisfied grunt, his throat too dry to bark back orders. He knows Gumshoe has Kay's best interest at heart, and were it truly up to the big lug, he'd take her home and care for her himself. Gumshoe is already doing the best he can.
But it's never that easy, is it?
In search of fresh air and a change of scenery, Badd takes a deep breath and busts open the doors to the outside, pulling out a fresh, new lollipop from his coat—a distraction, anything to clear his mind. He's overthinking this. He knows he is. Kay's disappearance has to be more simple than this.
He knows for a fact that "Calisto Yew" hadn't kidnapped her; he'd been on the woman's trail up until the moment she took a shot and disappeared from the courthouse, and Kay was thankfully nowhere in sight for that. Yew needed to get away as fast as possible in her current situation, and taking Kay as hostage would have only slowed her down.
There were also reliable eyewitness reports confirming that bastard Manny Coachen had left the courthouse way before Yew had shown her true colors and fled.
Besides... Faraday was already dead. What good would come of taking his daughter as a hostage after the fact?
What did it matter now...? The Yatagarasu had failed... miserably...
For the first time that day, Badd allows himself to focus his thoughts solely onto Faraday. A numb feeling spreads through his mouth, a lack of flavor that doesn't match up with the sweetness he expects from the orange lollipop still balanced perfectly between his lips. It doesn't feel real that Faraday is gone, and yet Badd had already bagged and tagged his lifeless corpse, preserved the crime scene and filed the evidence away under a file with Faraday's name on it.
As a detective, it didn't get any more real than that.
When he closes his eyes, he tries not to think about the unwanted image of Faraday still burned behind his eyelids. The sight of him bleeding out on the cold floor, stabbed to death and tangled up with the equally lifeless body of Mack Rell.
No... he'd think about the last time they spoke instead. After the trial, on the phone... Faraday had called him up right before dragging Rell off, hadn't he? There hadn't been enough time to meet in person.
"Something's not right," he'd said, and looking back at it now, Faraday had sounded rightfully terrified; Badd should have been, too. "I don't know why Rell would even bother naming me as the Yatagarasu in front of the entire fucking court, but you've got to back me up here! I'll try and find you after I have a little private conversation with our chatty defendant, but until then, keep your eyes peeled and don't let your guard down."
Faraday hadn't known to take his own advice... no, he hadn't known he needed to, even when Yew had waltzed in and—
Faraday had left him here alone with this godforsaken mess. Yew, too, was gone. What the hell, then, had they been fighting for all this time...? And why was Badd left here alone to question it?
There was no such thing as a one-legged Yatagarasu. There never had been.
But Badd knows he isn't the only one alone. He needs to find Kay.
His eyes drift through the parking lot, darting back and forth like a hawk, searching for any suspicious movement in the vicinity. The lot is a short walk away from the courthouse itself, but close enough to examine from a distance. He instinctively hones onto the parking area set aside for prosecutors and their subpoenaed witnesses, and then finally, a particular car that makes Badd's heart spasm in his chest.
Faraday's car. It's... still here. Well, of course it is... it's not like Faraday's just going to jump up and drive it out of here. Not anymore.
Without a second thought, Badd sprints forward to the parking lot—he crosses the road carelessly, ignoring both the crosswalk and the obnoxious horns blaring out at him—until he finally makes it to Faraday's car. He rests his hands on the windows, stopping to catch his breath, until he realizes that someone else has already stolen his idea and beaten him to it.
In the backseat, there's a small, bundled-up form beneath the refuge of a thin blanket. Badd circles around to the other side, a wave of relief washing over him once he realizes that he's finally found Kay... a twisted up, fetal position of her, with dried-up tears stained down her cheeks and a tentative thumb placed childishly between her lips.
Badd doesn't know how in the world Kay had found her way into the car—Faraday was nothing if not religious about locking his doors—but here she was. Sweet, innocent, angelic Kay.
Watching her, Badd is somewhat thankful she's managed to fall asleep amidst all the chaos. She looks so calm resting here, and if it was any other day, it'd look like she's simply waiting on her father to come out from the courthouse. For a brief moment, Badd pretends this is any other day, and that Faraday is just stuck doing last minute paperwork after the trial. Taking his sweet little time, like he always does, maybe even taking a few extra minutes to buy them all some courthouse Swiss rolls from the vending machine. How nice it would be if that was the case.
But it sure as hell wasn't.
Badd hates himself for having to wake her, but he knocks gently on the glass of the window to rouse Kay's attention. She couldn't have been sleeping long, so hopefully it's not enough to startle her. A few knocks later, and she quickly shoots up from her nap, eyes wide once she realizes Badd is waiting for her on the other side of the glass.
"Uncle Badd!" Her voice is muffled through the car door between them, and she seems to be searching along the door panel to flip the button to unlock it. Badd opens the door himself once he hears the mechanism react.
"Kay..." he starts solemnly, staring at her reddened eyes, still swollen from her tears. "How'd you get in here...?" His question trails off once he notices the small set of car-keys still tight in Kay's grasp. "...Ah."
"Daddy let me hold onto his keys today," she explains, a gentle smile creeping onto her face. "I didn't know where else to go, Uncle Badd. I'm sorry I ran away."
"I've been looking for you all over the place," he says sternly, bending down to level with her. "I was... worried... Kay."
"I'm sorry." She looks away, taking a moment to rub at her eyes. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was just... scared."
He can't bring himself to scold her any further. Kay has seen enough scary things today to last her a lifetime, and Badd wishes he could simply cover her eyes and carry her somewhere safe where murders and crimes didn't even exist in the first place.
No... it was too late for that.
"There's nothing to be scared of... not anymore." His voice isn't enough to assure her, so he reaches his hand forward to pat her head. "You're safe."
"I know. Thank you, Uncle Badd... I'm glad you're here with me."
Badd tenses when Kay reaches forward to grab his hand, a gesture that pulls him closer. His brows furrow in confusion. There's an unspoken plea somewhere in her eyes, and Badd eventually deciphers it: Kay wants him to sit in the car with her.
The backseat is cramped, but... somehow, Badd manages to cram his long legs into the back and bend over enough so that his head doesn't bump against the roof of the car. Kay seems grateful, and her smile is enough to relax Badd, too, when she scoots over to make room for him.
"What's that weird burnt smell...?" he asks after a couple of testing sniffs, once he gets adjusted to the small, stuffy space.
"Daddy spilled his coffee all over himself this morning when he got in the car." Her giggle fades into something resembling a choke. "I-I told him I'd help clean it for him when we got home, but..."
Badd shushes her with an offering, a lollipop, and presents it to her with the quiet understanding that he knows exactly how much it hurts to think about him.
"Thanks," she mumbles before unwrapping it. "Hey, Uncle Badd...?"
"What is it?"
"Did Ms. Yew really... kill Daddy?"
Badd nearly bites his tongue in half. He knew he'd have to have this talk with Kay sooner or later, but...
"I'm... afraid so," he finally says, not quite himself as the words leave his lips. Maybe it's better hearing it from him instead of someone else. "It's more complicated than that, but that's what... the evidence points to."
"Why?" Kay's voice breaks again, this time accompanied by a single tear; it drips so fast that Badd nearly misses it. "Why would she want him to die...? Daddy would never hurt anyone!" She moves to rest her head in her knees. "I-I thought Ms. Yew was his friend."
So did I, Badd wants to say, relaxing the fist he has balled up at his side. "I don't... understand it either, Kay." It's not a lie, but it's not a very good explanation, either.
"Am I gonna have to live alone now...?" Kay's questions are getting increasingly harder to answer, and Badd isn't prepared for the bitter truth that came along with facing them. "And will I have to wash all the dishes, and do the laundry myself, and—"
"No, Kay," Badd interrupts. "You don't... have to go back there. You won't have to... live alone."
"Can I stay with you, then?" she asks, eyes locked innocently with his. "I promise I'll be good, and you won't ever have to worry about me—"
It's too hard to look away when Badd finally breaks. "You can stay with me... tonight."
Kay's skinny arms sneak around the front of his chest, and without hesitation, Badd pulls around his trench coat to envelope her safely inside.
Badd isn't sure how much time passes. All he knows is that they stay like this until Kay lets out the rest of her tears, every single, last one she'd been holding back—like a good girl, she'd kept her promise to Faraday all day long... she's been holding these tears back for quite some time now, and that in and of itself is amazing.
She can allow herself to cry in front of Badd like this, because he's the furthest thing from a stranger, and there's something instantly warm and comforting about the thought. He feels special, knowing that Kay trusts him with her tears, even if she is hiding them underneath his worn, old coat.
Are they still a family... even without Faraday...? Or was Faraday the special glue that held the the three of them together?
No... Badd doesn't deserve to call himself Kay's family. Not anymore. After all, he'd failed to protect her father, and now—when she needs him the most—he can't even find the words to comfort her. He's simply sitting here in silence. He's not the same type of man Faraday was, always knowing what to say, and being even better at actually saying it.
What would Faraday be doing right now, he wonders? Would he pull Kay into his arms and dry her eyes? Tell her something simple yet assuring—that he loves her, and that everything was going to be okay? Badd knows he can't possibly promise Kay such a thing right now; he'd be lying to her. He doesn't have the heart to tell her that her pain is far from over.
After all... Faraday's death is too fresh of a wound for both of them, too deep and painful to start healing anytime soon. His death might as well be a phantom limb, for all Badd knows, because even now he has to remind himself that he really is gone. Forever.
He isn't ready to grieve Faraday's death.
Not yet.
Badd's first priority is, and always will be, taking care of Kay. He hadn't even realized that he'd pulled her closer against his chest until he feels the wetness of her tears soaking through his shirt.
He'll never be able to replace Faraday, but... maybe it's not too conceited of him to think that Faraday would be proud of him right now, consoling Kay in his own way like this.
It was enough... for now.
Pulling up to Faraday's house has never been so bittersweet.
Badd doesn't want to be here in the first place, not after today, but unfortunately Kay needs a change of clothes and all the other little things that evidently came along with being a responsible ten-year-old girl ("I'm almost eleven!" she reminds him from the backseat). Hairbrush, toothbrush, vitamins... they all seemed important to Kay, even at a time like this. Perhaps another promise to her departed father, that she'd always take care of herself.
It might've been cute any other time, but... Badd feels sicker by the minute. He parks the car in the driveway, ready to take out his keys and offer Kay the spare key Faraday had given him to the house, until he remembers Kay already has Faraday's set of keys to begin with.
"Pack only what you need, Kay... we don't need to be here for too long..." What he really means to say is that he doesn't need to be here too long. It isn't healthy.
"Aren't you coming inside, Uncle Badd?" Kay asks with a concerned pout. "I don't want to go in by myself..."
Damn it all.
Of course... how insensitive of him. Walking inside alone would only be a grim reminder of why she was here alone in the first place. Once again, he'd have to ignore his own feelings and do this for Kay.
Badd slowly gets out of the car, meets her at the front of it, and doesn't flinch when she gingerly reaches for his trembling hand. Maybe she doesn't notice how much he's shaking, because she briefly looks up to smile at him. A forced, painful smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
No, Kay has always been a smart kid. She knows.
They cross into the domain of the empty house together, one slow step at a time.
"My suitcase is in my closet," Kay says, letting go of his hand. "I'll hurry, Uncle Badd."
"Let me know if you need any help... I'll wait here."
Kay nods before she disappears up the stairs, and Badd can hear her light footsteps as they echo throughout the quiet house. Badd has been here a million times, and yet... this place isn't the same house it used to be. Not anymore.
He remembers the way it used to sound, always rowdy and cheerful with the sounds of Kay's giggling as she prances through the house. Faraday's gentle snoring as he passes out almost instantly whenever he drops onto the couch, only until Kay comes along to pounce on him, like she always does. The hum of the electricity, some midnight coffee brewing in the kitchen. Sometimes the television, sometimes the radio...
But tonight... it was quiet. Too quiet to be considered anything but unnerving.
He needs to find something to distract himself from being here while he waits. He still needs to send in a call to the precinct, too... let them know he'd found Kay, and plans on taking care of her until arrangements were made otherwise. It's the least he could do—for Kay, and for Faraday.
Badd quickly reaches for Faraday's house phone, careful not to touch anything that isn't absolutely necessary. This place feels more like a damn crime scene than a home... like it shouldn't be touched. So many memories here that needed to be preserved.
The Chief answers after a couple of rings, and Badd has to find his voice.
"I found Kay Faraday... we left the courthouse, and we're at her house now. She's packing her things."
"You should bring her to the station. You can't hold onto her forever, Badd." The Chief's voice isn't angry, just practical. "You understand what I mean, don't you?"
There's a long, tense silence, typical of how Badd's phone conversations normally go. "You don't... have to remind me," he finally says lifelessly into the receiver. "I'm just keeping her safe... until we know what happens next."
The Chief doesn't argue with that, for some reason. "I know you and Faraday were close... that's the only reason I'm allowing this, and you know it."
"I understand," Badd mutters. "If it helps, I can... contact Kay's grandparents later tonight. They live a few hours away, but I'm looking at the phone number right now." A tiny piece of paper with Faraday's in-laws' number is taped to the base of the phone, right underneath Badd's number, probably for Kay's sake. In case of an emergency.
"I think that'd be for the best. It's a start."
"Gotta go. I think Kay is almost done..."
"Badd." The Chief stops him before he can disconnect. "I'm truly sorry... about what happened to Faraday. The whole precinct is still in shock. We'll do what we can to catch that woman. Take a few days off."
It's an order, not a request, because the phone clicks off after that, before Badd can protest it. If anything, he'll take the time off for Kay's sake. Not his own.
And speaking of Kay, he hasn't heard her footsteps in quite some time now, ever since she disappeared to pack her things. Swallowing down his anxiety, Badd makes his way upstairs to check on her.
The upstairs hallway is still dark, and the only source of light is coming from Kay's bedroom on the left. He notices a few of the drawers have been opened and rummaged through, but Kay is nowhere in sight. A small, pink suitcase has been packed and is lying on the floor in front of him.
He checks the bathroom across the hall—also empty. He searches every single room in the house until there's only one room left.
In reality, Badd shouldn't be so surprised when he finally finds Kay in Faraday's bedroom. She's asleep again, too, sprawled out comfortably on his bed, blissfully oblivious to the stagnant silence around her. This time, he doesn't have the heart to wake her; instead, he carries her down the stairs and out to the car. Once she's strapped in, he goes back for her suitcase, and then says his own silent goodbyes to the house.
There's nothing else left here for either of them now, so he locks the door and drives away from it as fast as he possibly can. When Badd checks the rear-view mirror to steal a glance at Kay in the backseat, she's still sleeping peacefully, a faint smile on her tiny, pursed lips.
That smile...
It's Faraday's smile. The unassuming, innocent one he wears when he's not in the courtroom, always uptight and serious about putting on a decent show for the Judge. Not the Faraday he postures as when he faces the defense opposite him in court, so formidable and restrained that he's almost unrecognizable from the flustered rookie—the kid—Badd remembers he used to be.
The real Faraday.
Kay wears that smile just as innocently, if not even sweeter.
This family is going to be the death of him, Badd decides.
He doesn't look back again.
"We'll definitely fight to get custody of her, no matter what," Kay's grandmother tells Badd that night over the phone while Kay is in the other room taking a bath.
He'd met Kay's grandparents several times in the past, and when he finally gets a chance to contact them about Faraday's death, they recognize his voice almost immediately. They take the news just about as bad as everyone else had, though maybe they feel more sorry for Kay than for Faraday; she is their only granddaughter, after all.
"We'll be there for Kay as soon as we can," she adds when Badd remains silent. "Please take good care of her, Detective. Tell Kay that I love her, and... I'm so sorry about Byrne—"
On cue, Kay walks into the room in matching PJ's and some sort of toy clutched tightly underneath her arm. She must have packed it in her suitcase.
Badd quickly hangs up the phone; the lady will have to relay that message to Kay on her own, because Badd can't say those words right now.
"Are you... ready for bed?" he asks instead. It reminds him of all the times in the past he'd babysit her when Faraday got swamped with work. Before they'd met Yew. Before the Yatagarasu heists, before Kay had grown up into the self-sufficient little girl she is now...
Before everything went to hell.
"Yes, Uncle Badd. I brushed my teeth and everything." She smiles proudly.
"I'll sleep on the couch tonight... if you want the bed. I sleep here sometimes anyways." In truth, Badd can only remember a handful of days he hasn't passed out here on the couch after a long day's work.
Kay frowns. "Can I stay up and watch TV with you... just a little longer?"
Badd considers it. How can he possibly deny Kay anything right now, considering what she's been through?
...Shit. He's starting to think like Faraday now, too.
"I guess... that's alright. We'll have a busy day tomorrow, though... so you need some rest."
Kay nods obediently, plopping down on the couch beside him. Her eyes look heavy, like she might fall asleep any second, whether she wants to or not.
"What's that you've got there?" Badd asks curiously, eyeing the toy she's still holding onto.
When she lifts it up to show him, Badd instantly recognizes the hot pink stuffed parrot staring back at him. A horribly ugly creature, to be sure, but...
"You got that thing... from the fair a couple months ago, right?"
Kay grins. "Yeah, remember? Daddy won it for me."
This time, the memory of Faraday isn't quite so unpleasant as before. An unexpected laugh catches at the back of Badd's throat. "Took him quite a few tries, if I remember correctly..."
Badd remembers perfectly—Kay had wanted the damn thing so bad that Faraday had no choice but to try and "win" it for her ("would you distract Kay for like five seconds so I can bribe this guy into letting me just buy the damn thing for her, and be done with it?!").
"Yeah, he sucked pretty bad at that stupid old game, didn't he?" Kay giggles sarcastically, hugging the stuffed animal tighter. Spoken like a true, brutally honest Faraday. "I'm gonna keep it forever."
Badd can't help but smile as he watches her.
"I'm sure he'd be glad to hear that."
The fair... it seems like a lifetime ago. Badd's thoughts darken when he remembers that Yew had been there, too, that day. Having her own fun, laughing with them, watching them. Always too flirty and aloof, missing no opportunity to tease them both endlessly, like she always did.
If only he'd realized her true intentions sooner...
"Are you going to be okay, Uncle Badd?" Kay suddenly asks, genuine curiosity in her otherwise sleepy voice.
Badd swallows. "...Why do you ask?"
"Because... I'm worried about you."
It sounds ridiculous, coming from a child to a grown man, but Badd bites his tongue. He'll humor her.
"About... me?"
"Since I'm a kid, I'm allowed to be sad, but..." Kay stops to think it over. "You're an adult, and adults aren't really allowed to cry, are they? I know you're trying your best to be strong for me. But you don't have to pretend you're okay if you're really not."
"Kay..." Badd doesn't know what else to say. The kid's insight is topnotch... too on-point to even dispute.
She scoots closer so that she's cuddled up against him. "We're a family, right?"
A family...
Did Kay really still feel that way? Badd feels his eyes grow heavy, brimming with tears, and if Kay notices, she doesn't show it.
This is only going to make saying goodbye to her even harder. But for now...
It's enough.
For a while, Kay grows so still and quiet that Badd thinks she must have finally fallen asleep at his side. Her warmth is so soothing and soporific that Badd isn't sure how much longer he can stay awake himself...
Too much in his head. Thoughts running rampant, about everything and nothing in particular, haunting him. Things that can never be said, and some of them that can never be unsaid. What did it all mean anymore? Why did it matter?
There's a gentle tug at his sleeve that intensifies gradually until he stirs.
"Uncle Badd?" Kay whispers, and he's not sure what time it is anymore. Have they been asleep...? "Is Daddy going to have a funeral?"
"I'd... imagine so," Badd answers, half-groggy with a pounding headache he doesn't remember having the last time he'd opened his eyes.
"Do we have to go to it?"
"It's the right thing to do..." Badd says, though it sounds more like he's trying to convince himself.
"Maybe we could just... have a funeral and remember him here instead. Just the two of us." Kay's smiling, but she sniffs. "Oh, maybe we could invite Gummy, too."
As appealing as Kay's idea sounds... "It doesn't work like that... there are a lot of people that knew him. Not just us."
Kay's drops her eyes in disappointment. "I guess you're right."
He waits until she goes still again, and her soft snoring returns within a matter of minutes.
Badd follows suit, and dreams of nothing.
The next time Badd wakes up, there's a gentle glow coming from outside, and a blanket draped carefully on top of him. The TV is turned off, and it's much too quiet.
It takes a minute for everything to click into place. Was it all just some terrible nightmare...?
That's when he feels Kay fidget beside him in her sleep, huddled under a blanket of her own.
No... this wasn't a dream.
It was just another day... and they'd face it together. Just like he and Faraday always did.
He has no choice but to move forward now, and the sleeping little girl at his side is enough to motivate him into action.
Badd knows now. He isn't alone.
If Kay can find the courage to smile, the rest would fall into place on its own.
He slowly reaches over to peel the hair away from her sleeping face, gently combing through it with his fingers. She stirs, but doesn't wake up from the contact. Badd's known her since the day she was born, and yet... why does he feel like such a stranger right now? Is it because he isn't Faraday? Because Faraday... isn't here with them?
Will Kay... forget about Badd entirely one day? When she starts her new life, far away from here, and recovers from the trauma surrounding the memories of her father?
No...
"We're a family, right?" she'd asked him, just last night in this very spot.
It would be selfish of Badd to hold her back, but he'd do everything in his power to make sure that Kay never loses sight of who she is, even if that means calling her every single day and chasing her halfway around the world, if need be. He wouldn't let their bond go to waste... no matter what happens in the next couple of days.
He pats her head once more, and this time, she opens her eyes.
"Good morning, Uncle Badd," Kay slurs, looking up at him to smile. "Is it tomorrow yet?"
"It's tomorrow," he confirms. "Yesterday... is gone forever." That's something they can both be thankful for. "How did you sleep...?"
"Okay, I guess. Did you notice I covered you up?"
"I did notice," Badd answers, looking down at the blanket still pooled in his lap. "Thanks."
Kay nods. "You looked really cold. And you were talking in your sleep and stuff, so I was worried about you."
"I was...?" he asks, uncomfortable as she nods her reply. "What was I saying?"
Kay twirls around the fringes on her blanket, distracted and absorbed all at once, refusing to meet his eyes. "That you didn't want me to leave, but that everything was going to be okay." She reaches for his hand. "Don't worry, Uncle Badd. I'm not going anywhere, and I'll never leave you alone." She twists their pinkies until they're connected tightly at the joints. "I promise."
"Kay..."
"Can we make pancakes today?" she asks, jumping up to stretch. "Daddy liked pancakes, so... we can eat some for him, too."
Badd feels his lips curve up into a smile.
Kay has always been his weakness, but at times likes these, she's his greatest source of strength, too.
And he'll need all the strength he can muster to get through these next few days. But for now, thanks to Kay...
Everything is okay.