After his divination marathon, his so-called 'rest day' had only continued to exhaust him.
His initial investigation into the mystery man, Sirius Arapis, bore fruit much sooner than he'd expected. He had been forced into an altercation with the other Beyonder, where he had shot and beaten the man's head into a pulp.
Spirit divination and an unsent letter had confirmed the man's identity as a member of the Aurora Order, with allusions to a malicious plot that they had been hatching to sacrifice the people of Tingen. On a less menacing note, Klein had also learned the recipe for the Clown potion.
Klein could only hope the rest of the week would be peaceful.
Thursday July 19
Thursday had been a promising start to that wish.
After his combat training he had visited Henry's Private Detective Company to commission help investigating his remaining leads: the red chimney, and the suspected psychology alchemist he'd noticed at the underground market. Once he had something concrete - and less suspicious than a divination that only succeeded above the grey fog - he could then report to the Captain.
All in all, it had been mercifully uneventful, and he had returned to 2 Daffodil Street only slightly later than usual.
Klein came home to a mathematical battlefield.
"I'll start walking to school again," Melissa was arguing with Benson, face scrunched in resolve. "It's only fifty minutes, and this way we can save eight pence a day."
"By that reasoning we are already saving eight pence. No, your time is valuable and we should not sacrifice it," Benson's voice was calm and steady.
"What's going on? Didn't we already settle this weeks ago?" Klein walked over to the dining table where his siblings were sat debating over a spread of papers. He had to remind himself not to sling off his jacket - he would need to retreat to his room to doff the gun holster first.
"I'm afraid -" Benson's voice tremored, and he composed himself with a forced chuckle. "- I was fired today."
"Fired?" Klein exclaimed, aghast. "How? Why?"
Work as a clerk was competitive, and they were considered easy to replace... It was a field where you could not could not afford to be sloppy. Sloppy is not a word Klein would ever associate with Benson. He was certain that his brother did his best and formed good connections as both a reliable worker and a sociable young man.
He would consistently agree to the worst jobs, performing overtime and travelling as required by the import and export company he worked for. Benson was a strong negotiator, but to avoid fostering grudges he rarely exercised that skill on upper management.
So why fire him? If the company had collapsed, then surely Benson would have led with that?
Klein stooped over the table and recognised one of the papers as Benson's contract. It fit on a single page. He picked it up, skimming it quickly. "Surely they need a valid reason to dismiss you?"
"They claimed it was a financial decision, which is covered by the contract," Benson let out another dry chuckle. "Besides, a clerk of my level could not afford to chase such a legal case. They have paid me the amount promised for my notice period, so there's no breach of contract."
"We've checked," Melissa added icily, sucking on her cheek.
"The notice period..." Klein's eyes danced down the contract to the relevant line. It was just one week, and its inclusion had been a large part of what made working at the company so appealing. Even when their profits had dipped, it was considered reliable work.
He sucked in a breath. Alright. That's one pound and ten soli more than if they hadn't paid out... This isn't unsurmountable.
Still, he had questions.
"Was anyone else let go?" He looked at his brother directly, returning the contract to the table. Benson looked tired, propped upright in the chair.
"Not as far as I know," Benson shook his head. "They called me into the office first thing in the morning and handed me my pay. I've been reviewing my contract and looking for advertisements since."
Klein pulled out the silver vine-leaf pocket watch and idly began to flick the lid open and closed as he thought.
The rent for their home was twelve soli and three pence. Previously they had covered rent and their travel fees with Benson's salary, so now he should consider it deducted from his own income of six pounds a week. With such a high income they could definitely still afford to live comfortably, not to mention the supplementary income from his divinations. But there were a few key problems with that.
Firstly, his salary was still halved to make up for his advanced payment.
Secondly, his siblings currently believed he earned four pounds and ten soli a week. They did not yet know the full extent of his raise after becoming an official Nighthawk... Fortunately, he'd informed them over dinner last night that he would be working alongside the police, and that there would be another pay increase to follow. However, he had implied it would be over the next three months. They would definitely become suspicious if his pay rose just two days after the conversation, especially when his original pay had been three pounds!
In a similar vein, his membership at the Divination Club was also a secret, and his low fee and current lack of returning customers meant that the average visit would only cover the cost of the public carriage.
Thirdly, he'd been using the undisclosed money to fund his extracurricular activities, and just that afternoon he had committed his upcoming pay-check to Henry's Detective Agency.
I will be visiting the detective again next week for results - the red chimney should take longer, but if he's found the suspected Psychology Alchemist, then I will need to pay four pounds. I still have at least one pound of cash on-hand, not considering Benson's savings...
"We did talk about what would happen in-case of an incident," Klein spoke slowly, still putting his thoughts in order. "I believe my salary is still sufficient, but if we want to keep the same rate of savings, then the first luxury to sacrifice should be meat with every meal... You should still take the public carriage, Melissa. We can easily resolve this without damaging your education."
"My journey is eight pence a day, so we can save four soli a week." Melissa stood her ground and straightened her back to stare-down Klein. "Even if I only used the public carriage in the morning, then we still save two soli. We have been doing the calculations." She brandished a sheet of paper from the table as a warrior would their blade. Taking it from her, Klein saw that it was a tabulated household budget. He recognised Benson's handwriting, and Melissa's later annotations.
"Doesn't Tingen Technical School's summer holiday start on Monday? That's a good two weeks where we can save on transport costs."
Melissa hummed in agreement, and jabbed her finger onto the column that was dedicated to a projected weekly breakdown of travel costs. "We still need to plan ahead."
"I would rather walk than let you lose your opportunity to study and secure good work in the future," Klein shook his head firmly. "If we must cut costs, then we could save one soli a week if I walked to work in the mornings. My walk is shorter than yours, so this isn't unreasonable."
I can't offer to walk in the evenings. I don't think my legs could handle it after combat training, especially not all the way from Instructor Gawain's house on the other side of North Borough. I could save another two pence by walking to the Divination Club, although it will cut into my time there... His heart ached as looked over the plan. If I announced my new salary, then... No, I need to wait at least two weeks for the cost of the Detective to pass. Since I paid a deposit, couldn't I delay visiting him, or will he send someone to find me? No, I have other reasons to not delay getting that information... If only he could reimburse it!
"It's important that you're performing well, so they cannot find any fault with you," Benson cut in. "My luck has finally run out, so let's not tempt fate by risking Klein's. You both should take the carriage, for time and safety, and we can cut costs elsewhere. Since I will be hunting for work, I can look after the house and prepare meals."
Melissa and Klein shared a panicked look, and the unified front suddenly pivoted from brothers, to younger siblings. "No!"
Benson looked (reasonably) affronted. "Hey now, cooking is not so difficult. Even a curly-haired baboon could make mutton stew - it's as simple as adding food to a pot."
"We'll take the public carriage," Melissa compromised swiftly. "And while I am on holiday I can prepare our meals." She hesitated, realising something, and her face fell for a moment. "Um... So Klein should cook on his days off!"
She looked pleased with her compromise.
"Alright," Klein agreed helplessly. "Once my pay increases, we can go back to our previous spending habits."
"Or once I find new work," Benson shook his head ruefully. "There are not many openings for clerks currently, but I should still be able to secure a good reference from my other contacts."
"They did not give you a letter of recommendation?" Klein's voice came out unusually sharp, a spark of outrage surfacing.
"No. I did ask, but they hedged on the matter, and only said they may consider providing a reference if they are contacted in the future..." Benson's voice trailed off. "He may have shit for brains, but I was still able to bend the ear of my manager. Ex-manager. Little good it did me, as he recommended that I look for work outside of Tingen."
Klein frowned. "That's not normal, is it?"
"Have you been black-listed?" Melissa hissed, scandalised.
"It certainly sounds that way," Benson agreed with a roll of the shoulders, staying calm while his younger siblings rankled in his stead. "I can only assume that I stepped on someone's toes, though I can't think of who..."
His brother's gaze went distant, and all at once Klein saw how the stress settled on Benson's shoulders. It aged him beyond his years.
"Don't worry," Klein spoke with warmth. "We have a plan, and can still afford our lifestyle. This was an unexpected blow, but not an impossible one. It's fortunate that it's happened now that we have a second form of income."
"Right," Melissa chimed in with a stern nod. "So long as we stick to the budget, then we will still be able to build our savings over the next few months."
"Exactly. For now, you can join Melissa as a full-time student. There's no need to rush into alternative work that doesn't suit you."
"Yes, we should make sure you go back into similar or better work. This way you can study more than one hour a day, and improve your standing."
In the face of his siblings' united front, Benson could only smile.
"The books have been an effective sleeping aid so far. It will be a struggle not to form the habit of sleeping in the day," Benson quipped. "Still, I would prefer to be back in work as soon as possible. I am planning to reach out to old contacts and clients who might provide a reference for me."
"Don't worry, I'll work hard," Klein patted Benson's shoulder firmly. "I know I have big shoes to fill." He smiled down at his elder brother, before breaking away with a stifled cough to clear his throat. "Speaking of filling, I should start on dinner."
"I'll help," Melissa immediately moved towards the kitchen, no doubt to carefully portion out the ingredients before her foodie brother could over-indulge in luxury.
"I'll... take a shower," Benson gave his siblings another weak smile before he left for the upstairs bathroom. Klein barely managed to notice how emotion had quivered at the edges of his brother's lips, and the image stuck in his mind like a burr.
Melissa and Klein continued to discuss budget for food as they cooked. Klein bemoaned the fact he couldn't save money by eating leftovers for lunch - even the cheapest office rations were seven pence. Unable to find an alternative solution, they took the expense on the chin.
The family reconvened to eat dinner together, and if Benson's eyes had seemed suspiciously red, they did not comment on it. Afterwards, they amended the proposed budget and returned to their studies, Benson stubbornly battling with one of Klein's old grammar books.
What he did not say, but what haunted him that night, was how frustrating it was to take even the smallest step back on the path to comfort. Melissa finally has a new dress, and I have yet to buy Benson a new formal suit, simply lending him my spare one... Any treats now will be a budgetary outrage, so I can no longer bring them any surprises. The only gift they will accept now is savings.
He had been spending money on his own goals and ambitions, but even if he yearned for Earth, he knew that seeing his family comfortable was the most important of his immediate goals.
Melissa had been so happy with her dress...
Even if I hadn't already committed my wage, the real issue here is the lack of security... There is no way I can reassure them when Benson's previously reliable job ended so abruptly.
Perhaps I can visit the Divination Club more often to supplement our income. If I can spin a lie as to how I did not pay for membership personally, then I could reveal the funds to them... Or is there a believable way for a consultant to earn extra money? Could I pretend to have found a cheaper lunch, or that I've saved on other expenses?
A helpless anger was simmering in his belly that Benson was cast aside so easily, but the downtrodden nature of working life would not allow him to bring his outrage to a boil. When Benson said his luck had run out, he was not wrong... He did everything right. What else could we have done? How can I prevent something like this from happening again?
He tossed and turned in his bed before he finally used cogitation to fall asleep.
Friday July 20
Klein woke up tired. He consoled himself with the thought of taking a nap in Blackthorn's rest room after lunch, and was still eating his breakfast opposite Benson when he heard the front door open and Melissa re-entered the house.
"What is it? Won't you be late for school?" He asked, immediately braced for bad news.
"A servant woman just delivered a letter," she explained, and her eyes danced between the envelope, Klein, and the door. The door won as she turned to hurry back outside. "Don't take too long, or you'll miss your carriage!"
"Have a good day!" He called after her as he slid open the envelope.
He was not surprised to see it was Clarice's reply.
"Is it Miss Clarice again?" Benson asked, brows raised and lips turned up in a smile. "Do you still need me to act as a secretary?"
"I'll struggle through it," Klein said with the air of a martyr. "Besides, didn't you say I should value my privacy?"
His expression relaxed as he continued to read. Unlike her first letter he found that this reply felt more lively. It was a marked change in approach from her previous letter. The paragraphs were much briefer and more focused.
The immediate opening of the letter had been the requested directions to Naya's grave, presented with no strings attached.
She then asked questions about where a beginner could learn more about tarot divination, saying she was still thinking of her experience at the Divination Club.
Thank goodness I didn't let Benson read this letter, or he'd be asking me some pointed questions...
The letter continued.
I must admit defeat! Your recommended title is too advanced for my tastes, so I am seeking out more introductory texts on the noble houses of the Fourth Epoch. There is an undeniable allure to learning about a time so shrouded in mystery, even if the finer details are wasted on me.
I confess that I found the new anthology in the Great Detective Manseng series to be more my speed, but I enjoy diversifying my reading. I recommend the series if you ever need some lighter reading.
On a note you will find more interesting, I have heard tell that the Royal Museum in Backlund will be hosting a Memorial Exhibition for Emperor Roselle in October. They say they will be showing actual items he owned!
Klein was surprised to find that he was already composing a reply in his mind, his fingers itching for a pen. I wonder if she has more details on that exhibition? He found no trace of the fawning he had detected during the divination, even when he read back through the lines.
The only thing that struck him as off was the invitations she extended at the end of the letter.
I am planning a visit to the Exhibition myself. If you and your family are interested, please let me know, as it would be nice to travel in company.
On a similar note, my offer of a meal is still on the table, and I would be glad to extend the invitation to your brother and sister as well.
Yours with esteem,
Clarice Falkner
I've always felt on edge around her, but both times we met face-to-face she had caught me by surprise. Have I been too harsh? Perhaps this is just the relief from the divination clearing my doubts... Still, I should maintain a certain distance. In my reply, I can focus on my specialty and recommend some introductory texts, and ask for more details on the exhibition. Boring her clearly hasn't worked, but Benson's original suggestion may have really helped me gain a pen pal. Hm... Perhaps she will be able to help me access more exclusive texts in future? I should ignore the meal invitation for now, although it could be a nice way to treat Benson and Melissa...
He tucked the letter away into his jacket and realised Benson was watching him with a knowing sparkle in his eyes. "That didn't look like much of a struggle."
"She's invited us to an exhibition in Backlund," Klein shared as he stood from the table. "And a meal, but I plan to decline both."
"Us?"
"Yes, she even specified: 'your brother and sister', so I can't sneak a colleague into the gathering," Klein joked as he retrieved his cane from by the door.
"How generous. You know, I do recall there being a plan to avoid meeting her? Have you had a change of heart?"
"It's nothing like that. I've just been reassured that her motives are friendly. Yes, it's all friendly," Klein nodded decisively. "Good luck with your studies. Shall I test you when I get back?"
Benson sighed, shooing Klein with one hand. "Go, go. Don't threaten me with a curriculum, I shall study earnestly."
The work day passed peacefully. Klein had taken the opportunity during his morning lessons to ask Old Neil for some advice regarding expense claims, but ultimately decided against pushing his luck claiming travel expenses.
He had returned home before Melissa, and found Benson pacing the living room, a book in hand.
"You can rest now," he'd joked when he came back down the stairs from his bedroom. "Even students are allowed free evenings."
"Haven't you heard the saying about throwing stones in glass houses?" Benson quipped back. "I remember how we had to chase you to bed. I especially remember trying to sleep on the top bunk while the gas lamp was still burning."
"We could add ancient languages to your syllabus, if you would like your own chance to live the experience," Klein replied as he examined the budget that now held pride of place at one end of the dining table. Melissa had drawn up a second chart for dinner plans. "Looks like it's stewed beef tonight."
"And then we will be back on mutton twice a week!" Benson sighed. "Well, I am looking forward to your efforts."
"Don't get too excited," he warned lightly. "She's rationed the lard."
Klein suspected he could safely push the boundaries of the meal plan, but he felt it best to respect her efforts in managing the house. The pang of guilt at how he had to delay revealing stabler finances was still scratching at the back of his mind.
By the time Melissa arrived, he was idly tending the kitchen range's fire. The stew was merrily simmerinSunday July 22
If Melissa had not bumped into Klein outside the bathroom, she might not have realised he was home. Having returned from his night shift in the early hours of the morning, her brother had collapsed into bed, fully intending to sleep until lunch. Reassured that he was safe and as sound as he could be, she had been able to start her day with one less worry on her mind.
Still, she wasn't happy about it. As they walked to St Selena's Cathedral for morning Mass, she had complained to Benson that it was odd for a history consultant to require overnight work. Klein claimed that the handling of ancient relics and their documents was time-sensitive, but Melissa strongly suspected that his excitement over handling relics was stronger than his will to find a better solution.
Benson could only shake his head with the exasperated smile of a working man who was intimately acquainted with overtime. "Klein's work pays well, but it seems to be compensation for poor management. Remember, the time a task takes and the time a company allows are rarely aligned. A manager who understands such matters is a truly rare breed. Still, such a generous employer is even rarer, and should be treasured."
She hummed, a slight pout to her cheek. "Have you heard back from your contacts yet?"
"Nothing substantial from my old workplace," Benson answered with a carefully light tone. "But one of our previous clients has said he's willing to provide a reference, so the situation is already improving."
Of course, most employers would consider the lack of a reference from the reputable company he'd previously worked for extremely dubious. Melissa stayed silent for a while, watching the public carriage pass by.
Benson asked Melissa about her summer homework, and discussing her latest project caused the rest of the walk to pass quickly.
During Mass, the young girl had bowed her head and earnestly prayed for the strength to endure, and to meekly hope that her family would be spared from further misfortune. It was a prayer made with the knowledge that the Goddess did not offer protection. Even so, for every loss the Morettis had already endured, the Church of Evernight had offered a form of succour for the spirit. A balm for the weary. Hope for the struggling, who had yet to escape to that final realm of tranquillity, and still needed the strength to carry on.
As the siblings moved to leave the Cathedral, the determination to persevere and live well burned brightly in her chest.
"Excuse me. This may be a strange question, but are you related to Klein? Klein Moretti?"
They had been stopped by a well-dressed young lady who was standing slightly ahead of them. Her dress was a dark blue, with a matching handbag hanging daintily from her left arm. Her hands were clasped in front of her waist, elbows extended slightly to the sides in a picture-perfect image of a lady save for the apologetic tilt of her head.
It must be her! The thought struck Melissa like lightning. The cake lady!
"Yes, he's my younger brother," Benson's eyes were already alight with recognition, his posture straightening as Melissa unhooked her arm from his to face the stranger properly. "May I ask how you know him?"
"I'm Clarice Falkner. We both attended Khoy University, and I recently reconnected with your brother," the lady held out her hand for them to shake. "I was struck by the resemblance. He speaks very fondly of you."
The two siblings delicately shook her hand in turn as they made introductions. Melissa watched the other woman with wide eyes, subconsciously stepping back and treating Benson as if he were a social barricade.
Her face is quite plain, Melissa thought. I think Elizabeth is more charming... Still, Elizabeth is much too young for Klein!
Clarice was clearly glancing around, as if their brother might pop up from behind them.
"Klein is resting at home after working a night shift," Benson explained kindly.
"Night shift? As a consultant?"
Melissa nodded, silently commiserating over how ridiculous it was.
"He takes his work very seriously. Miss Falkner, it is a pleasure to be able to put a face to the name," Benson spoke with genuine warmth. "I hope my brother's correspondence has been up to form. I'm afraid he's used to academic exchanges, and seemed wholly overwhelmed at first."
"He's spoken with you on the matter?" Her face lit up. "Did he -" She paused suddenly, correcting her posture, as she had leaned forward in her excitement. "Ah, that is... I have no complaints."
For Melissa, seeing a lady become flustered over her brother was as strange and alien as seeing a mythical beast.
"He let me read the first letter," Benson confessed frankly, his tone clearly teasing his absent brother. "As I said, he panicked and had to call for reinforcements."
"You read it?" Clarice gasped, a hand rising to cover her mouth. "How embarrassing! Back then, I was so excited that I wrote everything that came to mind, and I sent it before I could second-guess myself."
Surprisingly honest, Melissa noted. Does she really like Klein so much that she approached us just to talk about him?
"He seemed very happy with the second letter," Benson continued to tease. "He already sent the reply yesterday."
"He did?" Clarice's hand could not hide how her mouth broke out into a grin, a happy flush painting her cheeks. "Thank you, now I know that I have something to look forward to tonight, if the post is swift."
Benson nodded to her with a polite smile, and they fell into a short silence. Melissa glanced at Benson, wondering why he wasn't speaking, and saw that the smile was slowly slipping from his face, and he gazed at Clarice very seriously.
"Miss Falkner," Benson spoke slowly as he looked her in the eyes. "I do not mean to be impolite, but do you have intentions for my brother?"
Melissa stared at him, mouth agape at the audacity.
Clarice was clearly taken aback as well, her smile falling away as she became lost in thought. She tilted her face away, and her hand drifted to twirl a loose curl of her dark brown hair. "Mr Moretti, I hardly know how to react when I hear it said so plainly...
"I won't deny it," she looked him in the eyes again, although her hand still fidgeted with her hair. "I very much like your brother. However, I understand that his career is his focus, and he has no real memory of our time together."
"What? What doesn't he remember?" Melissa cut in, alarmed, her mind spinning up worst-case scenarios of what a university student might forget, and how a young man could induce memory loss. There's no way Klein would be such a drunkard!
"We talked before, during university. When we finally spoke again, he could barely recall it. He was quite stressed, and has always been very focused on his goals," she spoke softly, a fond smile on her face. "I can only be grateful to have my foot in the door, so to speak."
"Why?"
Clarice blinked, her eyes finally focusing on Melissa. "What do you mean?"
"I- I mean," Melissa stammered for a moment, her mind catching up with her mouth. She clenched her fists, eyes hardening with a steely resolve. "Why do you like Klein?"
Benson was about to intervene, but Clarice laughed brightly, cutting off his attempt. "Klein has a lot of admirable qualities. He's a family man, he's thoughtful, and a polite gentleman..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes glazing over. She added, as if it were an afterthought: "I like his smile."
The siblings stared at her. Melissa thought of her previously gloomy brother and wondered how often Clarice had been able to see such a smile.
"Please don't tell him," the woman said frankly. "I appreciate his friendship and would not want to frighten him away. When I complimented him last Monday, I thought he might run for the hills." She smiled wryly at the recollection.
Monday? Melissa looked at Benson sharply and saw how his own brows rose at the comment. What happened on Monday?
"It is true that he is slow to warm to people," Benson replied, an amiable smile back on his face. "Klein is a very private person. I am sorry for pressuring you on the topic, but it's my responsibility to take an interest in such things. Thank you for your honesty. Still, I would be remiss if I did not warn you about our family's finances."
"Mr. Moretti, I have long secured a passive income under my own name," Clarice's own response was prompt and utterly confident, as if she were indulging a child with a simple truth. "I am fortunate that marrying for love is my family's only expectation for me."
"Our hopes for Klein are much the same."
The two smiled at each other for a long moment. Melissa deliberated whether or not she should ask more questions, as it felt as though unspoken ones still hung in the air between them, causing the back of her neck to prickle from unease.
"I'm glad I ran into you," Clarice said, breaking the silence. "Klein had mentioned that your mother was also a devotee of the Goddess, so I had some hope that I might encounter you here."
"Yes, it is our habit to attend," Benson agreed, not elaborating on how none of the siblings were as devoted as their mother had been. "Am I to take it that you are a devotee, Miss?"
"No, but my mother is. It is something we have in common. Well. It was very nice to meet you," Clarice curtsied to them gracefully. "I won't keep you from the rest of your Sunday. May the Goddess bless you."
She gave them one last smile before she turned to leave and smoothly swept out of the Cathedral. The expression struck Melissa as being out of place. It's like she's trying not to laugh. It reminded her of Klein. He often smiled like that these days, since he had started his new job, but she could never figure out what he found so funny.
"What do you think?" Melissa asked Benson the moment the other woman was out of sight. The two were still standing frozen in the nave.
"She was 'not unpleasant'... I understand why Klein struggled to describe her now." Benson's reply was slow, a tentative smile lingering on his face. "She passed through like a typhoon."
"Yes! She was forward, but also so... bashful?" She disagreed with her own thought the moment she heard it said aloud. "No, no, she was so confident... I really don't understand how Klein caught her eye."
"She's not used to sentimentality, perhaps," he rose one of his hands in a see-saw motion as he began to lead the way home. "Her interest is strange. Still, when she said she liked his smile... I would like to assume the best of her."
"What's so nice about a smile?" Melissa grumbled. "Klein didn't even remember talking to her. She should be considering her future more seriously. I'm sure she has much better options."
Benson was briefly struck dumb. He looked at his sister with genuine concern. "...I had worried that she might lack brains, but her manner reminded me of a business negotiation."
"Business?" Melissa wholeheartedly returned his look of concern. "You should talk to more women."
Benson shrugged helplessly, unwilling to fight the many assumptions behind that remark. "Klein told me he did not plan to see her, and was very clear that he had no interest," he confided in a low voice. "And yet..."
Monday! "We can ask him over lunch," she declared, eyes alight with curiosity.
"He does not owe us every detail," Benson declined gently. "I suspect if we press him, he might abandon the entire effort from embarrassment. Assuming that there is one, of course." He chuckled.
Melissa sighed, picturing the scene in her mind's eye. "He's not good at lying, but very good at forgetting to tell us things... We can just sound him out. If there's anything important, then he'll definitely tell us."
"Let me talk with him," Benson promised lightly. "Try not to pressure him, Melissa. Us older brothers have soft skin when our younger sister asks us about such things."
Clarice Falkner had walked away from the Cathedral towards a carriage that had been waiting a short distance away on Red Moonlight Street. The coachman, who was dressed in the understated livery of House Falkner, greeted her with a formal bow. The man opened the door and held out his hand to help her into the enclosed carriage.
"The Divination Club on Howes Street," she ordered flatly as she settled into her seat. The servant nodded in silence as he closed the door and returned to his post, spurring the two horses into motion.
In the comfort of her private carriage, Clarice Falkner fished a pocket notebook from her handbag. She released the clasp and flipped purposefully to one of the pages. She uncapped her propelling pencil and struck it through a line of text, swishing upwards in an elongated tick mark. She turned to another page and amended her notes in a swift, scrawling shorthand. She smiled to herself as she reviewed her work before she snapped the notebook shut. The clasp locked with a satisfying click.
Notes: