“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me,” Akira groaned at her mother as she paced the length of the secret room again.

“I have given you all the information you need, mit stjernelys,” he mother replied placidly from her rocking chair.

Akira groaned again and ran a hand through her hair. Why couldn’t she put the pieces together? She had all of them but the puzzle simply wouldn’t come together. She knew there was a man she had loved before Loxley and he was her father. But just who that man was, Akira had no clue. She turned to the south wall of the room, where all the pictures of the man hung.

“He’s my father, isn’t he?” she asked her mother going to touch one of the pictures.

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Her mother looked up from the sketch book she had in her lap.

“Yes mit stjernelys, that is your father by blood,” she replied before turning back to the sketch she was working on.

“Why did you add that distinction?” Akira asked.

“That man is your father but he could not raise you with me; Loxley raised you so he is as much your father as he is,” her mother answered.

“I feel like I’ve not only seen him before but met him,” Akira muttered to herself.

“Perhaps you have,” her mother hummed.

Akira sighed and closed her eyes. She went through every memory she had and tried to recall where she’d seen this man. Suddenly, she gasped and stumbled back. She bumped into the window seat and practically fell onto it.

“No, no, no, it can’t be him. It just can’t,” she whispered in shock.

Her mother looked up from the drawing.

“Yes mit stjernelys, it can,” she smiled sadly.

“LOKI!” Akira screamed sitting straight up in bed panting. “LOKI! Gods be damned get your ass here I fucking know you can hear me.”