Where is it? Why can’t I find it? I’m going to late. Oh, this is awful and so inappropriate. You can’t show up late to a funeral! How embarrassing. But I can’t miss this. My investigation has already hit an insurmountable hurdle. It’s so frustrating. I need new information in order to make a break in this case.

Plus, Kara can’t go herself. I have to represent her. It’s what I should do as her friend. Ack, but how can I represent her properly if I can’t find it? I can’t let her look bad!

This is my chance to prove myself. My only chance. I’m lucky that she even deigned to speak to me at all after everything. I expected her to call the nurses and have me thrown out on my bottom when I visited. But she didn’t do that at all. She listened to me. And she gave me a mission!

I can’t let her down. I can’t. I know lots of people have a bad opinion on her, but I can see her for who she really is. She isn’t like her parents at all… if what they say is true. Her mom doesn’t look like a terrorist. And Kara is a good person. I knew it when she didn’t outright laugh at me when I confessed my love of cosplay. She did give me a blank look at first, but then she just said, ‘cool, so do you make those outfits yourself or do you order them?’

Kara was so impressed when I told her I make all my own cosplays. She didn’t judge me. She even took the time to learn more about my hobby and she promised to go to a convention with me someday if she was… ever allowed to leave Ashvale that is.

Sigh.

I should have seen the signs sooner. I could have helped her before she got hurt. I was so stupid. It’s so obvious now how those baddies used us. Well, used me. I can’t speak for those other lying… liars.

With this I can now turn things around. I can make it right. I can actually help her this time. I know I’m not supposed to use my abilities outside of specific supervision, considering my standing, status, and the fact that I’m a minor, but if those rich kids can strut around doing things, I don’t see why I can’t use them. Especially since I’m working for the greater good. Not my own good like those… those… them.

It’s not like I’ve been using them excessively, anyways. My daddy would know if I did too much.

I’ll uncover the truth about Rodney and save Kara! I know I can do it. What was all that secret training for, if not for this? It’s my moment.

Except I can’t find my only black skirt. Why is this happening to me? Is this my Karma? All Spirit, can’t you see I’m trying here? I’m atoning! So stop getting in my way.

“Baba!”

I hear the soft shuffle of a newspaper from down the hall. “Yeah, honey?”

“Where is my black skirt? The one from Jasper.”

“Hm? Did you have one?”

“Yes. But I can’t find it. And I have to leave soon.”

A few dull wooden thuds pass during the brief pause. My daddy always taps his knuckles while he’s thinking. “Try the drawer under your bed. I think you moved a few rarely worn things into there last year.”

That’s right, I did do that, didn’t I? I scamper over and open those drawers I barely think about because they don’t open right and there it is, right on the top, too!

“You’re my hero, Baba!”

“Mhm. It’s almost 9.”

Ah! I have to hurry!

After slipping on the skirt and doing up the rest of the buttons of my dark grey blouse, I do a quick spot check in the mirror after selecting my darkest coloured glasses, a dark wooden brown that almost matches my hair.

It isn’t my best look, but this isn’t a runway. Or a convention. This is a mission. I look presentable for a funeral, and I also don’t stand out. My hair is in a simple bun and I’m not wearing any make-up at all. Because that would be inappropriate.

After tugging on a dark pair of tights and a pair of sleek black shoes I’m ready to go.

It’s a bit odd, wearing black for a funeral. In my family we wear white, but this isn’t my family. This is that family. The Romano’s. I need to dress correctly for this occasion. I don’t want to lose any fingers. How can I sew without fingers?

An uninvited shiver runs down my spine and I swallow down any reluctance. This is for Kara. And this is for Rodney. I didn’t know that boy but he’s important to Kara. Which makes him important to me!

But I need to be very careful today. On my best behavior. The Romano’s are not a family you want to mess with. I pity the culprit behind Rodney’s murder, and what will happen to them when I reveal the truth. They must have been out of their mind to kill a member of one of the most notorious Mutant mob families in western Canada. Any piece of land connected to any water system this side of Manitoba is under their control. Well, the metaphorical underground of that land is, anyways. Just so happens the Snake Indian River, a tributary off the Athabasca River, runs right through this valley. Funny, that.

The main seat of that notorious family resides here. Frank Romano.

It’ll be okay. It’s fine. It’s an open funeral, so I didn’t even have to forge an invitation. If anyone asks, I’ll say I’m representing Kara as she is still too weak to attend in person. And if they ask why Kara would show, I’ll just say they’ll have to ask her. And she’ll deal with them.

Oh, I hope they don’t actually go ask her though because she will… really deal with them. I’m so glad I’m her friend. I hope no one talks to me at all.

Kara’s not any less scary than a Romano when she’s angry. In a good way of course. She’s so fierce and unrelenting. She never accepts trouble from anyone. Hah! She’ll mop the floor with whoever is messing with her right now.

“It’s after 9, Lala.”

Ack! Already?

I grab my floral print satchel. It should be okay to bring this because it’s mostly beige, with muted colour tones. Besides, it’s normal to bring flowers to a funeral. Oh crap, should I bring actual flowers? No, no that would be weird. Don’t be weird, Chayla. Be cool. Like Kara.

My father is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a mug of coffee and reading the morning news during one of his rare days off. We’ll usually spend those days together. But I have important work to do today. I guess this is ‘growing up.’

I feel a small twinge of guilt as I lean over and give him a kiss on the side of his forehead. As usual his skin is rough and weathered.

“I’m going now, daddy.”

“Do you really need to go?”

He sounds so sad. But I cannot be swayed.

“I’m sorry, but this is important.”

“I don’t mean to be crass, but you didn’t even know the boy.”

“A friend of mind did though, and she isn’t well enough to attend in person. She wanted me to go in her stead.”

Okay so Kara didn’t actually ask me to go, but I’m sure she’d like me to and for me to tell her about it after, plus it’s imperative to my investigation. I have to go.

He’s studying me. As much as I’m sure he’s disappointed we can’t go to that movie together like we planned, there’s a lot more to his stare and his unwillingness. He’s never been happy about our friendship. But he’s a good father and respects my choices. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t talk out about them from time to time.

“By friend, you mean that Lowe girl.”

“Her name is Kara.”

“Right, right.”

“Come on, daddy. She baked you cookies once, remember?”

“Oh yes. How could I forget those.” He rolls his eyes and gives the paper a shake before shaking his head a little. But he’s smiling.

“Daddy!” He chuckles so I know his disdain isn’t too bad. I know he’s just worried about me because of the rumours. “She never made them before, and she only forgot the baking soda. Or was it the baking powder?”

“Both, I think.”

“Baba.”

“Alright I got it. Speaking of, I want you to eat a fruit before you get going.”

“But-”

“The river isn’t far from here. You still have some time. The bananas need to be eaten or there’s apples if you want. No skipping breakfast. You’re too thin already.”

He pinches my side and I escape to the counter’s fruit bowl. “Yes, yes.” I sigh and grab an apple.

That’s when I notice it. And not for the first time. There is a coyote outside our house, just across the street before the woods begin. Staring into our house.

Staring at me.

“Are you expecting any guests today?”

“Nope. I’m going to do some work in the garage.”

It was a slim hope. There are a lot of Walters’ Clan members in his precinct, and they do come over from time to time. But I don’t recognize this one’s patterns. It must be from another district. Those sneaky coyote tricksters never did sit well with me. They tease my dad a lot. I don’t like them.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I don’t hold any prejudice against them or anything, but there are simply some Mutants who have better reputations than others. Coyote Clan members tend to be sneaky, deceitful, dishonest and never what you see on the surface. There are even some who can fully shapeshift, taking on the appearance of others. Of course that’s illegal, but so are a lot of things. Things that still happen. Like the murder of an innocent child, for instance.

This trickster’s been following me ever since my visit with Kara at the hospital. This must be how Kara has felt these past two years. I always thought it was okay because it was to protect her. At least that’s what they said. I didn’t listen to her complaints. I didn’t understand. Now I do. This is such an awful feeling. And she’s felt like this for so long. I honestly don’t know how she could stand it. No wonder she’s so angry. It’s in her right to be.

I toss my apple core into the compost bin and wave goodbye. “I’m heading off now.”

He doesn’t look up from his newspaper. He’s started his crosswords. As usual, he’s doing them in pen.

“Be safe.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The lock on my bike sticks as usual but I get it off eventually. Welp, at least I know any would-be robbers would get fed up with it and leave it alone. I place my satchel in the handwoven basket I have zip-tied to the handlebars and set off. The funeral officially starts at ten, but I want to get there a little early. And I definitely cannot be late!

As I’m biking past Founder’s Park, stopped at yet another red light, I notice something a bit odd. There’s a man in an Ash Forest Rangers uniform digging around deep in the roots of the Great Founding Ash. At first it doesn’t seem too strange, the Measurement Ceremony is coming up soon, so they must be preparing for it right?

But no, prep wouldn’t necessitate this. Why is he digging there? What purpose could it have? I know a fair amount about arboriculture thanks to the local library and Kara’s rants about Ash trees, and unless there’s a problem with the tree’s roots specifically, you would never risk damaging them by digging like that. He doesn’t even seem to be being careful!

I should report this later. This guy is slacking on the job. Tsk.

Ah, the light changed.

North Evansdale Cemetery is where the Romano’s have their family crypt, deep underground, where their family’s ashes are interred. It’s said that their crypt takes up half of the underground of the east side of the cemetery.

The North Evansdale Cemetery is built along the Snake Indian River, with the river running right through it. So there is an east and west side. I can’t remember which family’s crypt is on the west. I don’t pay too much attention to the rich folks. I regret that a little now, seeing as Kara was attacked by those… those degenerate brats.

Huff. Well, anyways, there are three bridges that can be used to cross over to each side of the cemetery, and according to the information I purchased, the funeral is being held along the east bank of the river nearest to Bridge #1. That’s still a bit of a walk from here.

I lock up my bike again, grab my bag, and head down the path that the map at the entrance states will take me there.

I’ve never liked graveyards, much. They’re spooky, even during the day. The Snake Indian River is loud here, too, as it starts to curve a bit just further south. That constant sloshing sound, and the wind whistling through the trees, makes for a very gloomy atmosphere.

But I must bear it! I have to be strong. And brave. For Kara. It’s all for the mission.

When I finally reach the area, made obvious by the many rows of chairs and a transportable temporary platform placed along the river, with many large photos placed tastefully around the area on individual stands, it’s almost time for the service to begin.

I spend some time to look at each of the photos. There are many of him with his swim team, pictures of him with his father are sparse but available, there’s many of him with other people that the booklet provided, and the small black and white photos inside, help to identify as childhood friends, his older brother and sister, his uncle, and so on.

He has soft eyes and a kind smile. Eyelashes for days. Not what I was expecting at all. He comes from a crime family, so I was expecting something… harsher. Colder, maybe, or rough. But he looks like a sweet little kid, just on the verge of fully growing up. Innocent. That’s what he looks like to me. An innocent child.

What kind of monster could kill a child like this? It just… boggles my mind.

I know I’m naïve. Baba has done a good job so far of protecting me from everything he could. He isn’t a Shifter or any kind of Mutant. He’s a pure-blooded Sapiens. Indian-Canadian. He led a completely normal Normie life until he met my Ma. Then I was born and she… well, she had to leave, and he had to protect me all on his own.

I know it wasn’t easy for him. I know he was hoping I would take after him genetically, but it wasn’t meant to be. My… gift, arrived early, when I was only eleven. He uprooted his entire life, got a transfer to the Civilian Department of the securest city in the entire country, and moved us here. So I would be safe.

He’s a Civilian of Relation, and I’m a Refugee, not a full Citizen. He did that to protect me, too. I don’t have as many permissions as a full citizen would have, but I do have a higher level of protection within Mutant Society as a result, as well as fewer responsibilities. That also keeps me safer.

My daddy did all of that for me and gave up so much so I could live a safe life- as normal a life as possible. And here I am, potentially throwing away all of that hard work. Am I an ungrateful child? Maybe. But I’m doing the right thing. I think he would understand.

This world is a lot darker than I ever realized. And it’s scary- the thought of wading into all of that. But it’s thrilling too.

Thankfully I won’t have to be here long. The open part of the services like these are always short, as the main part of the ash’s interment will obviously be private for family and close friends only, within their crypt.

I can see the priest standing nearby the pulpit. His white and silver robes give him away. I can tell he’s high ranking from the number of maroon-coloured runes stitched into his garment. Priests of the All Spirit Covenant Church serve the Holy Spirits first, and the Third Eye Order second.

They’re different from the Monks which serve in the reverse of that order. Monks are just Order Officers who happen to be a little religious- when it suits them. I’m glad the Romano’s are having a proper service. I would have judged them quite heavily if it were a maroon clothed Monk up there. I’d be temped to walk out, even!

At least the service would be a short one either way. And that’s a-okay, I’m here at the funeral for quick observations and information gathering only. The real fun comes after. The real danger, too.

Speaking of observation. Inside my bag are some transparent mechanical bugs. They’re connected to my phone remotely, with two-sided sticky tape attached on the bottom. I’m lucky they’ve opted for plastic chairs with rims on the backing, it’s easy to stick them and they can’t be seen at all, transparent or not.

I seemingly absent mindedly walk along the rows of chairs, touching all of them but leaving the bugs strategically. I’ll be able to listen to the recordings later. If anyone whispers about anything related to the murder, I’ll catch it.

That stupid coyote is still tailing me. Watching. Always watching. Don’t you have anything better to do? Hmph, this isn’t enough to convict me of anything. I remove my fingerprints with a pumice stone every evening. Daddy taught me. And this phone of mine is prepaid. With cash. And I carved my own rune sequence onto the bugs, so they’ll disintegrate once I’m out of range. Good luck.

Daddy… did not teach me those other things. Sorry, Baba.

Anyways, all the bugs were left within a radius that I could, potentially, hear the conversation taken place while at the same time, anyone within it could hear me, and Ashvale has one party consent laws. Meaning only one side of the recording needs to know about it. And I’m aware of it. So come at me, bro!

Is this how Kara feels when she’s, how does she put it? ‘Sticking it to the man?’

I’m so sorry daddy. I respect you, I really do, it’s all of your co-workers I don’t like. Really.

I’m so glad he isn’t here.

By the time I’m done the funeral seems ready to start and people begin heading to their assigned seats if they have them, or other ones if they don’t. I situate myself in the centre but closer to the back, at the edge of one row. No legal loopholes here. Heehee.

A lot of the guests are part of ‘the family,’ with a few known compatriots, as well as a fair number of Council members and Elders. I only recognize a few of the more famous faces among them.

Among those I recognize is the Town Treasurer, Mr. Spencer, and a boy who I recognize as the one from the surveillance video and is that man’s son. It’s not too shocking to me right now as I’ve already uncovered his identity a long time ago, along with the other degenerate, a boy from the Flanagan Clan, who actually… did the deed. That boy doesn’t seem to be here, which is good because I would be so… so… mad.

Well, I’m not happy seeing that Spencer boy either. He may not have done it, but he helped. And he’s got that ‘look’ to him. An arrogant look that reminds me of René. All rich boys have it. ‘I can do anything, and daddy’s lawyers will take care of it.’ That look.

Hm? Why’s that brat looking at me now? I barely stared. You think cause you’re pretty that all the girls want to stare at you, is that it? Bah! Oh, I must be giving him a mean look because now he appears confused. Well keep being confused, you… you murderer’s assistant!

I turn away from him and start paying attention to more important things. The opening aspect of the service is over and now there is the prepared speeches portion. Rodney’s uncle, a man named, well, it says Freddy Romano on the booklet, but I don’t know if that’s his legal name or not, is at the pulpit now, speaking.

What’s important about this is who he’s looking at while speaking. Rather, glaring at. He is talking about how their family will get justice and will leave no stone unturned until justice prevails for his beloved nephew. It’s quite spirited. And the people he’s glaring at?

One of them is Rodney’s father, Frank Romano, who is sitting there stony faced, but with a very obvious sadness leaking out of him. It’s palpable. Leave it to a mobster to keep his composure even during his son’s funeral. That can’t be easy.

The other person is a man I don’t know, but I’m fairly certain he’s a member of the Council. That man, in the middle of a funeral for a dead child, while being glared at by that child’s uncle, is sneering.

He’s giving me really bad vibes. I can’t explain it. He looks like your average Japanese man, and he’s wearing a crisp black suit and plain white shirt.

As subtly as possible I sneak a photo with a special app I have on my phone. No flash, no sound, and the phone doesn’t even turn on. Just make sure it’s pointed at the target. I make it look like I’m just rearranging my bag on my lap. I’ll have to show Kara this man’s face later. This could be a big break!

The bad man has two kids with him. One of them has a cold gleam in his eyes, and the other is doing her best to stifle her sobs. The son is wearing a suit exactly the same as his father’s, with the daughter wearing a traditional, plain black kimono.

Tsk. At least someone in that family seems to care. The son and father are intermittently shooting her bitter looks. But she really can’t stop sobbing. At least she’s doing it quietly, so as not to disturb the service.

I recognize the girl now. I think she was in one of the photos. The son as well. The ones in the friends’ collage. They were younger, that’s why I missed it. I don’t know how good a friend that boy was, but that girl seems to have been true to it. Poor thing.

Both the kids look to be the same age, twins I’d guess, and both look like they could be the same age as Rodney. Hm, interesting. I make sure I get clear picture of them, as well.

Freddy Romano is still talking, and is back to glaring at his brother. I’m curious about why Rodney’s uncle is mad at Rodney’s father, though. There’s no way he had a hand in his own son’s death, that doesn’t seem right. Something else is going on.

Hm… I should stick to my previous plan and stake out their house afterwards. See if I can’t overhear something good.

Aside from some noisy reporters who get thrown out by the security around midway through, nothing else happens during the brief service, except for a cop that keeps staring at me. He’s a high-ranking member of the Walter’s Clan, I’ve seen him in dad’s precinct before, but he’s not based there. He handles high level stuff. Not someone you want to offend.

He usually has a very calm and expressionless face, but he keeps staring at me and smiling. In order to not offend him, I have to smile back. Oh goodness, I hope I don’t look too awkward. It feels super awkward. Why does he keep staring at me? Because of my dad, or something else?

The priest is now making the closing statements. Finally. I hope this ends soon. The real work is analyzing everything after.

“Thank-You, honored guests, for coming to say your final goodbyes to our dearly departed. This concludes our open session. I now invite the family and friends of the deceased to follow me to lay dear Rodney to rest among his kin.”

The priest’s voice is soft and mellow, it really is a pleasure to listen to. But his message is clear. That’s the cue for us outsiders to leave. There are a lot of security guards in suits and not-well-hidden guns standing around. Only a fool would follow the family to the crypt, and I’m no fool.

“In parting, the Romano family would like to again reiterate that anyone with any information regarding this heinous crime should come forward. You will be rewarded. Good day, ladies and gentlemen.”

The Romano family should head back to their family’s compound after everything is finished. I’ll just camp out there and wait. I already researched where it is and purchased a map of the main building. My Broker is so good. I should give him a better tip next time.

The funeral was the easy part. The successful infiltration of a crime family’s compound… that’s where things get complicated.

I can’t wait! I’m so well prepared, what could possibly go wrong?