ㅤ
“The ribbon was there,” Evelyn said when she found me after my afternoon lecture.
ㅤ
Students streamed around us. I glanced at the document case beneath her arm. “And the star?”
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“One point is longer.” Her fingers tightened on the case. “I'd prefer somewhere private.”
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We found an empty study room. Evelyn closed the door and unwrapped a faded blue ribbon. A white star had been sewn into its lining, one point stretching beyond the others. I kept my hands to myself.
ㅤ
“My mother gave it to me when I was seven,” she said. “I thought I'd ruined it. She told me it was mine, and it didn't need to look like anyone else's.”
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She folded the paper around it, taking care with the worn edges. “I've never shown it to anyone at the academy.”
ㅤ
“Do you believe her now?” I asked.
ㅤ
“I believe she knows something she shouldn't. Someone with access to my belongings might have found the ribbon. That wouldn't explain the conversation with my mother.”
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She sat, the parcel resting between her palms.
ㅤ
“Was the case forced?” I asked.
ㅤ
“No. I checked the lock first.”
ㅤ
“At least that's one less problem.”
ㅤ
“It would have been a problem I understood.” Evelyn looked at the parcel. “I know how to investigate a break-in.”
ㅤ
I took the chair opposite her. A child remembering a conversation that hadn't happened yet was harder to put in a report.
ㅤ
“Do you believe she's yours because of the evidence,” Evelyn asked, “or because she calls you Daddy?”
ㅤ
“The evidence tells me something extraordinary happened. Caring for her came first.”
ㅤ
“That isn't the same as knowing.”
ㅤ
“No.” I rubbed a thumb along the edge of my notebook. “She needed food and somewhere to sleep before I knew what to make of the coins. She needs someone to come home when he promises. I can manage that while we investigate.”
ㅤ
Evelyn studied me, then slipped the ribbon into her case. “She's with Mrs. Fenwick?”
ㅤ
“Yes. I'll collect her shortly.”
ㅤ
“I told her I could visit once I'd checked the ribbon.”
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“You don't have to do it today.”
ㅤ
“I said I could visit, Adrian.”
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“Right. Shall we go?”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Mrs. Fenwick greeted Evelyn without visible surprise. Marcus had probably offered an explanation that left out the impossible parts.
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The girl was at the kitchen table with Sir Flopsy. She jumped down when she saw us. “Mommy!”
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She ran forward, then stopped short. Her hands closed around the rabbit's cloak. I recognized the hesitation from yesterday.
ㅤ
Evelyn crouched. “Hello.”
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“Did you find it? With the star?”
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“Yes. Thank you for telling me where to look.”
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The girl stepped into her arms. Evelyn returned the hug, one hand settling carefully between her shoulders. Mrs. Fenwick caught my eye. I would owe her an explanation eventually, though I had no idea what kind.
ㅤ
Marcus met us outside the guesthouse and offered to carry my bag. At the entrance he handed it back.
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“This is where I leave you.”
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“You live the other way.”
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“I've developed an interest in this direction.”
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“Uncle Marcus, aren't you coming for tea?” the girl asked.
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“Not today. Your daddy and Lady Rosenfeld have things to discuss.”
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“Marcus.”
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“They do.” He shook Sir Flopsy's paw and promised to visit tomorrow. The girl hugged him before he left.
ㅤ
Mrs. Alder looked up from her guesthouse ledger. Her gaze passed from Evelyn to the child holding her hand.
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“Will your guest be staying for dinner?”
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“Just tea,” I said.
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“Of course.”
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By tomorrow, the guesthouse would know I'd brought a duke's daughter upstairs. I hoped the rest would remain our business.
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***
ㅤ
“Mommy, look!” The girl opened our door and pulled Evelyn toward the drawings.
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I noticed the towel hanging from the bedpost and the chipped teapot. There was nowhere to hide either without making a spectacle of it. Evelyn was looking at the picture above the table.
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“This is our garden,” the girl explained. “And these are us as rabbits.”
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“Which one is Adrian?”
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“The little one.”
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“Why?”
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“He's making breakfast.”
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“I've stopped asking,” I said.
ㅤ
The next drawing showed me with a frying pan. Evelyn leaned closer. “At least the egg is round.”
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“You've chosen a side.”
ㅤ
“I've seen your diagrams. You can draw circles.”
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“Cooking them is apparently a separate discipline.”
ㅤ
The girl laughed and led Evelyn to the window, then back to show off Sir Flopsy's crooked blue cloak. Evelyn listened, though I caught her looking toward the door. The room was small, and our daughter was welcoming her as someone who belonged in it. Evelyn had only met her yesterday.
ㅤ
I made tea for us and warm milk for the girl.
ㅤ
“Mommy gets tea,” she protested.
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“Mommy is older.”
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“So are you.”
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“Correct.”
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Evelyn took her cup. “Adrian has already prepared your milk.”
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The girl considered this and drank it. I stared at Evelyn.
ㅤ
“What?”
ㅤ
“I've been answering that question incorrectly for days.”
ㅤ
“Perhaps you've been answering a different question.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Once we'd settled, Evelyn asked whether the girl remembered anything more about the spell. Her fingers stopped moving over Sir Flopsy's cloak.
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“Only what you want to tell us,” I said.
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“Mommy was making a big spell.”
ㅤ
“Where?” Evelyn asked.
ㅤ
“In the room with the red floor.”
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I looked up. She hadn't mentioned that before.
ㅤ
“Was it at home?”
ㅤ
“No. There were stairs.”
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“How many?”
ㅤ
“Lots.”
ㅤ
Evelyn accepted that. “What happened next?”
ㅤ
“Mommy gave me my bag. She said to find Daddy and stay with him.” The girl rubbed the rabbit's repaired ear.
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“Was anyone else there?”
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“I don't think so.”
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Her voice had dwindled. Evelyn put down her cup. “That's enough. Thank you.”
ㅤ
The girl went to fetch another drawing. Only when she was occupied did Evelyn ask to see the damaged letter again. I took it from the drawer and laid it on the table.
ㅤ
She examined the scorched edge in the afternoon light. “There are preservation techniques for damaged archival documents. I'll research them without saying where this came from.”
ㅤ
“Would cleaning magic help?”
ㅤ
“It could remove the ink that's left. Don't try it.”
ㅤ
“I wasn't planning to.”
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“You were looking at the stain.”
ㅤ
“I look at many things without casting spells at them.”
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She gave me a doubtful glance, but left the letter where it was.
ㅤ
The girl returned with a drawing. “Can we have honey cakes?”
ㅤ
“No. We had them yesterday.”
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“That was yesterday.”
ㅤ
“Correct, but not a financial argument.”
ㅤ
“Are they expensive?” Evelyn asked.
ㅤ
“Please don't.”
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“I haven't offered to buy any.”
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“Mommy says we shouldn't buy everything we want,” the girl supplied. “But sometimes she buys two.”
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“An important detail,” I said.
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Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Apparently.”
ㅤ
Her attention settled on my budget sheet. “Forty-two silver? For this room?”
ㅤ
“Weekly.”
ㅤ
She looked around again. “That's high.”
ㅤ
“I agree.”
ㅤ
I explained the rent, Mrs. Fenwick's reduced hours, and my twelve silver a week from Halden. I kept my remaining savings to myself; Evelyn didn't ask.
ㅤ
“Have you checked the academy's housing registry for students with dependents?”
ㅤ
“The what?”
ㅤ
“Approved private residences and a few academy-owned apartments. Some accept children. Places aren't guaranteed.”
ㅤ
“Nobody mentioned it.”
ㅤ
“Did you ask student affairs?”
ㅤ
“No.”
ㅤ
She wrote down the registry's formal name and the application office. “Ask about the waiting list before giving notice here.”
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I looked at the figures I'd been struggling with all week. “Thank you.”
ㅤ
It was advice I could act on, not an offer to pay my bills. I was grateful for that distinction.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
As the light faded, the girl moved her chair against Evelyn's. I brought her a pillow, and she settled with Sir Flopsy in one hand and Evelyn's hand in the other.
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Evelyn watched her eyelids grow heavy. Then she leaned toward me. “Adrian. What's her name?”
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“I don't know.”
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She stared at me.
ㅤ
“She said her mother wanted her to reveal things gradually,” I whispered. “I didn't want to pressure her.”
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“Have you asked directly?”
ㅤ
“Not directly.”
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Evelyn looked down at the girl. “Her name isn't evidence she owes us.”
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I felt my face warm. I'd made a list of what I needed to know about my daughter, yet I'd left out the one thing I should have asked simply because she deserved to hear us say it.
ㅤ
The girl stirred when Evelyn adjusted her pillow.
ㅤ
“Mommy?”
ㅤ
“I'm here.”
ㅤ
“Sweetheart,” I said, moving closer, “would you like to tell us your name?”
ㅤ
She opened her eyes. “Am I allowed?”
ㅤ
“Yes. You can tell us.”
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She sat upright. “My name is Mira.”
ㅤ
“Mira,” I repeated.
ㅤ
Her smile widened. “Mira Rosenfeld.”
ㅤ
Evelyn's hand went still beneath hers.
ㅤ
“Do you like it?” Mira asked.
ㅤ
“Yes,” Evelyn said after a moment. “It's a beautiful name.”
ㅤ
Mira leaned against her again. I looked at the drawings, the blue ribbon in her dark hair, and the rabbit tucked into her lap. I finally knew what to call her when she came running to the door.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Evelyn stayed until the lamps outside were lit. Before leaving, she crouched beside Mira.
ㅤ
“I have classes tomorrow.”
ㅤ
Mira's face fell. Evelyn waited until she was looking at her again.
ㅤ
“I'll see Adrian at the academy. If your father agrees, I'd like to visit you again.”
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“I think we can arrange that,” I said.
ㅤ
Mira hugged her. “Good night, Mommy.”
ㅤ
“Good night, Mira.”
ㅤ
I accompanied Evelyn downstairs. Beneath the porch lamp, she looked toward our window.
ㅤ
“I'm still not certain what happened,” she said. “And I don't know what to do with everything she's told me.”
ㅤ
“You don't have to decide tonight.”
ㅤ
“I don't want her to think I'm making promises I can't keep.”
ㅤ
“Then tell her when you'll be back. She understands that better than vague assurances.”
ㅤ
Evelyn nodded. “I can do that.” She adjusted her case. “Bring the revised diagram tomorrow. Your third channel is still wrong.”
ㅤ
“Good night to you too, Lady Rosenfeld.”
ㅤ
She almost smiled. “Good night, Adrian.”
ㅤ
Upstairs, Mira waited beside the bed.
ㅤ
“Will Mommy come back?”
ㅤ
“She said she'd like to.”
ㅤ
I helped her under the blanket and tucked Sir Flopsy beside her. As I turned down the lamp, she called to me.
ㅤ
“Yes, Mira?”
ㅤ
Her eyes widened. “Say it again.”
ㅤ
I sat beside her. “Good night, Mira.”
ㅤ
“Good night, Daddy.”
ㅤ
I stayed until she slept. The rent was still due, the letter was still damaged, and Evelyn had questions I couldn't answer. Tomorrow, though, I could tell Mrs. Fenwick the girl's name.
ㅤ
That was one problem I was glad to have solved.