The elderly nun drew herself up straight. “Save the subtle threats, Agent Haughn. I am not afraid.”
“Sister.” Haughn’s Boston accent was even flatter than usual. “When I threaten you, it won’t be subtle.”
“Stop it.” Alan was on his feet, even if Morgan kept a hand bracing him. “Just stop. Don’t you get it? This is how the Shays have kept this going all these centuries! They find a wedge, they find where people don’t trust each other, and then they split everybody who’d stop them apart. So stop it.” He met Haughn’s gaze. “She did what she thought was right. You don’t have to like it. Just respect it.” He took a breath, turning toward Sister Thomasina-
That wasn’t just Morgan’s hand bracing him. Aladdin’s was, too.
“My mom is dead.” Alan wasn’t going to let his voice shake. “She never got to do what she planned. So maybe you ought to think about that, Sister. Because Mom was a reporter.”
And here’s where I bluff.
“And I have her notes.”
It wasn’t a lie. He did. At least all the ones that still existed. Mrs. Silversmith and his father had seen to that; and if he was angry they’d cleaned out the condo then he was going to be angry about it later, someplace he could take it out on a few rocks instead of people. Because maybe he didn’t like his father’s wife, but she’d been honest: Boston was too hot for him to stay, and leaving anything behind was an invitation to have it destroyed, or worse. And if Richard was his father, then they were going to act like responsible parents and get everything he still owned out of the death zone.
So he had Anne’s notes. And his own.
Now I get to see what Sister thinks I’d do with them.
Judging by how she paled, it wasn’t good.
From that hiss of Richard’s breath, his father found that the absolute last straw.
“It’s a good thing we’re going home, Uncle Simon,” Aladdin put in, before anyone could explode. “I learned a lot. But Boston’s been kind of… really not fun.”
“Remind me to tell you about Antarctica sometime,” Simon reflected. “Although at least in Antarctica, no one was shooting at me.” He rubbed his hands together, and gave Drakon his best devil-may-care grin. “And I told you, our home is your home, as long as you need it. You are coming, aren’t you? My students could use a proper character study for an Honest FBI Agent-”
How you could hear the capitals in that, Alan wanted to find out.
“-they always overplay the role.” Violet brows arched, he glanced at Maria’s little kid-pack. “Plus, we need someone to help us train up all these little Hamlets. Hopefully with far better survival instincts than their namesake, everyone dies at the end is just the wrong way to end a good story! And given what happened last season – well, the next game our Mascot will prevail through the power of adorable! And overwhelming numbers.”