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Court turned the small stuffed fox over in his hands, his chest tightening as he ran his thumb over the initials written in his clumsy handwriting in Sharpie. He let it rest on his lap. “How did you find this?”
Fitz looked up from the file he was reading over. “Police evidence. It was taken because-”
“Of the blood. Ryland-” he looked down at the toy, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard the blood roaring in his ears. “He had a gash above his eyebrow from the corner of the counter. I- I told him to grab it after I-”
“You know you can’t keep it, right?”
He squeezed the soft body of the fox tightly. “I know.” He looked up. “Is there a reason you grabbed it in the first place?”
“A treat, I guess,” Fitz hummed. “And an update. They’re out of the system.”
“Adopted?”
“Taken in.” He paused, flipping through a few papers. “You have a lot more family than I initially accounted for.” Fitz paused. “An uncle? In California?”
“Never heard of one.”
“Well, he exists. Proved DNA and everything. He’s taking them in.”
“Good.”
“You don’t seem like you care that much.”
“You said I wasn’t supposed to have family.” He looked up at his handler. “I don’t have family.”
Fitz mouth spread into a slow, lazy grin. “Good boy.”
Something in the back of his mind bristled at that. Six pushed it down. “Where am I headed next?”
“Kyiv,” Fitz said, standing up and handing a file to the agent in front of him. “Ever been?”
“No,” Six said slowly, taking the file as he stood up. “How loud is it gonna be?”
He rested a hand on his shoulder, taking the fox plush back from the agent. “Well, that’s at your discretion, Sierra Six.”