“Brightworth, party of two. My wife should already be here.” As the greeter checked that night's reservations, the fashionably dressed, nicely groomed, well spoken, naturally charming- you get the idea- gentleman pulled out a large bill and rose, adding, “also do you have something like a vase I could borrow? I couldn’t stop by a shop on my way.”

Briefly pausing, the greeter awkwardly took the money and offered a hesitant, “let me quickly check for you, sir.”

As expected, a few minutes later a server came by with a pretty vase and led the man through the restaurant, eventually coming out onto a balcony overlooking the waterfront. He was easily able to pick out where they were going by the captivating figure of his wife, similarly elegant in dress and appearance. After taking a moment to smile to himself, the man tucked the vase and flower behind his back before she could notice them approaching.

The movement must have caught her eye as the woman glanced up from the menu she had been reading and smiled wide, standing up for a loving hug and peck on the cheek.

Bringing the flower around and handing it off to his wife, the man said, “sorry I couldn’t find anything nicer for you- you know how close that flight was to cutting out our diner plans.”

Chuckling a little, the woman waved it off, “I should have been expecting you to do something like this. Wait, if you landed an hour ago and the trip from the airport to here was about half that, how did you find the time to get dressed up and stop to buy me a flower with this traffic?”

It was lucky the flight from Rome to Copenhagen was only about two and half hours, much more and wearing the too-perfectly tailored suit the entire time would have led to completely unbearable wrinkling and stiff muscles from holding as still as possible. “I have my ways… Don’t look at me like that! I get all my recklessness out on the track, so I can only drive perfectly safely on the streets.”

With one more quick kiss, they sat down and ordered a glass of wine each before the all important question was asked: “what did our little girl do this time that got you so frantic?”

Sighing deeply while staring at the dark liquid she was swirling around, the woman started, “let me start from the beginning. Did you find her late-night voicemail suspicious?”

“Well, I-”

“...”

“-’m not sure why she would lie, but she probably had a good reason.”

“Right. So after I received that, I of course was curious and asked a few more questions over texts and received mostly evasive answers that didn’t help with my suspicions. I was worried, so I did a little digging around on her college’s website, social media, as well as those for all of her professors- just to be sure. And, as I expected, there was nothing about a special opportunity.

“Now worried instead of just interested, I tried to call her hospital, but was put straight to voicemail. Specifically one saying something to the effect of: ‘we are so sorry we can’t help right now. WE JUST GOT CAUGHT UP IN A BREECH!’”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Reaching over and grabbing one of his wife’s hands to give it a gentle squeeze, the man soothingly said, “hey, hey, at least she got out. I’d be willing to bet there's a scheduled email that will come in right as our business over here ends.”

“I know, it’s just I hoped she wouldn’t feel bad about telling us when she gets in trouble like that. I swear, she would worry more about our lives getting messed up than her own safely if she got kidnapped or something.”

Pausing to take a sip of her wine, the woman continued, “anyway, as always, our daughter wasn't particularly subtle so when I had flights from the hospital’s local airport checked for the few days around when the Breach happened, there was only one leaving for the west coast- straight to the CSZ. Coupled together with a new, very theatrical but anonymous Magical Girl…”

“Damn, I knew that cute little imp looked familiar! The performance was on point: the getup, the little trick, and the subtle threats-” The man briefly paused to sniffle and wipe a fake tear away, “-she takes after us so well.”

Sighing again, the woman shook her head, “I’m just worried she feels pressured into being an MG. Despite everything, I know she would have made sure to seriously discuss becoming one with us before deciding if that was an option.”

“So you’re worried she had to quickly choose for the Breach, got picked up and shipped off to the CSZ, and now might be stuck between being forced into doing something she might not want to. All while being too considerate to disturb us so she can ask for help?”

“Pretty much.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re not worried she’s taking the opportunity to blackmail, steal, manipulate, sneak, and sweet-talk her way into literally every top-secret building and room she can? Maybe do a little espionage for the heck of it?”

Now with a look of horror, the woman muttered, “oh, god. She is, isn't she. And now she has magic too…”

Thoroughly amused by his wife’s realization, the man assured her, “I’m sure Silvia will be fine. MGs have almost blanket immunity, and if worst-comes-to-worst, I’m sure we can pull some strings to work out a deal with a few of our friends over here. Everyone feels more secure with an MG nearby to stop Breaches ASAP.

“Oh, also, I’m sure you saw, but our accountant sent a notice that a few of the accounts and crypto wallets we asked them to secretly watch all those years ago got some activity.”

Quietly snorting, the woman laughed, “I forgot about that. Did they ever figure out where exactly the money came from, or is it still just ‘probably suspicious?’”

“Nope! She did something right with that- whatever it was. My bet is still on the ‘souvenirs’ she picked up. Although, that question is still from where? Still no clues on that front, but it must have been done carefully since there were never any questions thrown in her direction for potentially stolen property.”

“Why couldn’t our little girl have been talented at piano or something?” The woman rhetorically asked with a wistful sigh. “Anyway, I’ve been in talks with The Special Energy Youth Academy about visiting, so be prepared for some pointed interview questions- although they probably know everything already anyway.”

A little surprised, the man asked, “oh, so will we be going to the embassy tomorrow to get that dealt with or should I tell my manager that we can resume the tour?”

“Neither. We’re flying into New Portland early in the morning. I’m sure whoever’s job it is will catch us before we get on the flight to the Zone. In fact, security will probably pull us aside when we land.”

“In New Portland or in the Zone?”

“Whichever.”