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It’s not supposed to be Alan who catches her, but of course it pretty much has to be. In too many ways, Alan’s become her favourite. He’s endlessly optimistic, he believes in everything. And he trusts her, trusts her enough to come to her with his problems, the things he’s afraid his brothers would tease him for. Alan made her into a big sister before she made him into a little brother, and it’s one of the best things that’s ever happened in Kayo’s life.
So when he stumbles downstairs, sleepy and yawning, and catches her in the act–the hurt on his face, the betrayal–she almost can’t stand it.
It’s December 25th, and the tree in the center of the living room is half buried in presents. Kayo’s been stacking them, arranging them neatly for the past hour, munching on cookies (Virgil’s cookies, a rare and unheard of treat) as she works. Thunderbird Shadow. Covert Ops. She’s been helping keep up this illusion since she’s been a part of the family. Last year it was Virgil’s turn. The year before that, Gordon’s. And now, on her watch, it’s over.
Alan, in his red plaid pajamas and Christmas socks, is staring at her in bleary horror from the staircase, finally manages to speak up, “…does this mean Santa isn’t real?”
Kayo sighs, and sits down in front of the tree, patting the seat next to her. “I’m afraid so, Alan. Come here and have a cookie. It’s going to be all right.”