Marten explained that he would be posing as the butcher of the neighbouring town of Oakwood, who had come to Plainswood because he decided to retire, but wanted to make sure that Oakwood had a butcher they could rely on after he was no longer working.

With my dad being the only butcher nearby, he came over to ask if he could handle the task of taking on the additional customers from his village. While it would be a good business opportunity for my dad to double his clientele, he would have to travel between villages on a regular basis. It would be a nearly impossible task, unless I took on a more active role in the butcher shop.

My job would be to act in a way that would convince Jamie that I was interested enough in butchery to want to become part-owner in my dad’s business.

Judging from the psychological profile that the rest of his team had sent him before we left Redstone, it would likely be enough to convince Jamie to “release me” from my role.

“That’s a lot simpler than I thought it would be,” I said. “You sure it’s going to work?”

We had moved out of my room and were now sitting at the kitchen table instead. Though it was a square table designed so one person could sit at each side, Marten was sitting alone on one side and I was sitting across from him with my dad standing behind me, resting his hand on my shoulder in a show of support, and my mom was sitting on her own chair by my side.

“It’s simple because I had to make it as idiot-proof as possible,” he said, unbothered by the dark glare that my mom gave him. “Or do you want me to dumb it down even more?”

“I’m just a bit sceptical about how you’re so confident that you know what Jamie will do, before you’ve even met him,” I said, keeping my expression neutral. “I doubt Mediators are that good.”

“You’re right. Mediators aren’t that good,” he said, giving me a cocky grin that told me exactly what he was going to say next. “But I am.”

I resisted the urge to let out a frustrated sigh.

“And I don’t know you. I know I have no reason to think you don’t want me gone as soon as possible, but I can’t find myself putting a lot of trust into a middle-aged man who’s acting like an obnoxious teenage boy.”

“But you’ve got no other choice,” Marten said, not losing his grin whatsoever.

I frowned in response.

Marten laughed, chuckling and pounding his hand lightly on the dinner table.

“You’re alright, girlie. Got more spunk than any of the other civies I’ve had to bail out. Tell you what, why don’t I go have a chat with my team right now, and I’ll come back and let you know once I confirm everything’s all fine and dandy. That sound good to you?”

“Not a chance in hell,” I said.

“Don’t believe in it, myself,” Marten replied with a shrug. “But I get the spirit. What would sound good to you then, if that ain’t enough?”

I frowned.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Nothing?”

“There’s nothing you could do or say to make me trust you,” I admitted. “Even if I went with you in person, you Mediators could hold a secret conversation with that weird sign language, right under my nose.”

“So you’re just whining, then.”

I glared at him, not wanting to dignify his assumption with a response, regardless of how correct it was. He laughed.

“I’m surprised you noticed the sign!” he said cheerfully. “Not many civies do, though I suppose most of them aren’t ever exposed to it as often as you must have been. It’s been a while since I’ve had team members that were fluent in Mediator-sign, let alone two. It’s a goddamn nightmare trying to communicate with a team leader that can’t understand me properly.”

If there were only two other team members that were fluent in their sign language, I assumed it was Sera and Oren, since I’d actually seen the two use it. It might’ve been unnecessarily petty of me, but I hoped he had a horrible time communicating with Tenna.

“Good luck with your new leader, then,” I said, bitterly.

Marten frowned, all traces of humour disappearing from his face immediately.

“New leader?” he asked. “Sera died?”

“What?” I said, surprised by the assumption. “No, she just stepped down.”

He looked at me for a few seconds, his eyes searching my face, before he pushed his chair back and stood up.

Without saying another word, he walked out of the house.

It took me a few seconds to react, raising my arm and opening my mouth to shout at a man who was already long gone. I stood up, or at least tried to. My mom was hugging my arm and I was too tired to shake her off fast enough to give chase. I ended up flailing weakly in her arms and almost slipping off of my chair.

Luckily, with my dad standing so close behind me, he was ready to catch me before I fell on the floor.

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“Lena!” my parents both shouted, concern saturating their voices.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I need to go after him.”

“Why?” my mom sobbed, gripping onto my sleeve and burying her face into it. “Why do you need to go, Lena?”

“I need to go, mom. I need to…” I trailed off.

“Stay,” my mom begged, her voice muffled by my arm. “My sweet baby, don’t leave us. Not again.”

My mom’s hands were shaking as she pulled at my sleeve. At every small movement I made, her strength seemed to fail her as the fabric of my sleeves slipped through her fingers, but each time she let go, she reached out and clung to me desperately once more.

“Don’t go,” she said. “Don’t go.”

What was I doing? I had stood up in reaction to Merten’s sudden exit, but why did I feel the need to follow him? Was I planning to stop whatever he was doing? Did I want to follow him to monitor him? It had just been so habitual for me to assume that this Otherworlder business was a part of my life now, that I just assumed there would be a reason for me to follow. If he didn’t ask me to come along, did I really need to go?

Could I really just stay?

“I-I’ll stay, mom,” I said hesitantly.

My mom let out a small sigh of relief. She was holding my arm in an awkward position, and I wanted to quickly adjust it to get more comfortable, but I stopped when I heard soft steady breathing.

“Mom?” I said, tilting my head down to try and see her face. With it buried in my arm, it was impossible, but I grew more aware of the fact that she was growing heavier by the second and was starting to slip sideways off of her chair.

“She must have passed out from relief,” my dad said from behind me as he reached down to put a hand on my mom’s shoulder to stop her from falling to the floor. “She’s barely slept since you were taken from us.”

I looked up at him and noticed that the same probably applied to him. There were dark rings under his eyes, and though he’d never been a man to care about his looks, his hair and beard were more matted and wilder than I’d ever seen before. He gave me a weak smile as he noticed my gaze.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Tired? Anything you need at all? I can peel your mom off you if you want to go to bed.”

Though she was asleep, I thought I felt my mom’s grip grow tighter at the suggestion.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“You sure? I can imagine how heavy she must be, though you never heard me say that,” he said, giving me a forced wink. “Your mom would kill me if she thought I was calling her fat.”

My dad wasn’t usually the type of person to make jokes. His sense of humour was a bit odd, and whenever he tried to tell a joke, it always felt like he was either trying too hard or he was just rambling to no point. His joke was awkward, especially since I couldn’t remember the last time he’d attempted to wink at anyone. But I could tell he was trying his best to make light of the situation.

I smiled. Not at the joke, but it was a smile regardless.

“Thanks, dad,” I said, leaning back into him. He stumbled, clearly not being too stable himself, but held firm. “Whoops, sorry.”

“I’m fine, Lena,” he said, giving me a weak smile. “Now did you want to go to bed?”

I thought about it for a moment and shook my head.

“This is nice,” I said. I’d been spending too much of my time sleeping recently, and more than rest, I just wanted everything to feel right. Sitting here at the kitchen table with my parents, it didn’t undo what I’d gone through recently, but it was a start. “Pull up a chair, dad. No point in standing around when you look like you’re dead on your feet.”

Dad frowned, but didn’t disagree. After making sure I wouldn’t fall without his support, he quickly darted over to the other side of the table to grab the chair that Marten had been sitting on and dragged it close to me, positioning it slightly behind me so he could support my mom and me at the same time. I’d had a decent enough night of sleep that I didn’t actually need it, but it felt nice so I didn’t protest.

We sat in silence for a moment, but I was getting sick of silence by this point.

“So… I’m the result of a one night stand?”

I immediately felt bad for almost killing my dad, but just a little bit. I was surprised that mom didn’t wake up from the violent hacking and sputtering he was doing, but I was more surprised at the sound that came from my own mouth. I was laughing.

It felt so long since I had a genuine laugh like this that the sound felt alien to me, like somebody else was using my mouth to make noises for me. Before I knew it, another laugh was joining in with mine.

“She told you about that, huh?” my dad said, through wheezing chuckles. “How’d you manage to get her to admit it? She swore she’d take it to her grave and threatened most of the village with a painful death if they ever let it slip that she was six months pregnant at our wedding.”

“Tensions were high,” I said, leaning back into him. “I’m sure she wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Ah…” he said, likely guessing what event could have made her scatter-brained enough to let go of a lifelong secret like that. “Are you embarrassed by it?”

“No. But I didn’t need the details of how she seduced you. That was a bit much.”

“Ah… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was mom, not you,” I said. “Are you embarrassed?”

“By what?”

“By how I was born.”

“What? Heavens, no. I have no regrets. I’ve loved you since the moment you were born, Lena, and that’s never going to change. And your mom loves you even more than I do. She loves you more than life itself.”

I smiled, letting out a content sigh and sinking deeper back into my dad’s arms. He must’ve been tired, but I had faith that he could support me anyways. He was my dad, after all. That’s what dads do.

“I love you too, dad,” I said.

“Just to be clear, I did love your mother too, even before… that night,” my dad said, clearly still flustered. “It just took the right atmosphere and a bit of liquid courage to admit it.”

“Dad,” I said, firmly but playfully warning him off. “It’s fine. I know you love mom. I don’t need to hear the details. Please.”

“I guess you wouldn’t,” he said, coughing into his hand awkwardly. “But I just wanted to put that out there.”

There was another long silence that stretched out between us, but this time, I didn’t feel the need to break it. It was comfortable.

“You know, your mother never used to cry,” my dad said.

“Really?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine it.

“Your mother always wanted a large family, but the village doctor had told her that she would never be able to birth a child,” he said, hugging me tighter as he talked. “When her adoptive mother died she was so alone, but she kept wearing that fake smile of hers, like she was afraid that everything would go wrong if she didn’t pretend like everything wasn’t. I always felt a little sad whenever I saw her. When she found out she was pregnant with you, she burst into tears, like everything she was holding back was flooding out of her at once. She was crying, but her happiness was so beautiful and pure that I asked her to marry me on the spot. Maybe not the best timing, but I don't regret it.”

I said nothing, but I looked down at my mother, still sleeping with her head in the crook of my elbow and loosely gripping at the fabric of my sleeves. I reached over with my other hand to place it over hers.

“You were a miracle, Lena. You were our miracle.”

I felt a few more tears well up in my eyes, but I smiled as they fell.

“Tha-”

The door slammed open and I yelped and flailed in surprise. My arms flew wildly, causing me to smack my dad in the nose and shake my mom off and send her falling to the floor, face first.

“We need to go,” Marten said, with his head poking through the kitchen door.

My dad groaned and clutched at his nose while my mom continued to doze, unwoken by her rude introduction to the kitchen floor.

I glared at Marten.

“It’s been ten minutes!”