INICIAR SESIÓNLISBONPOV: HazelWe left at six in the morning.The house was quiet and the city was in its early configuration and I put my bag in the car and looked at the estate one more time before I got in, the lit windows and the gate and the specific shape of a building I had arrived at a year ago with two goals and nothing else.I had found my mother.I was leaving with considerably more than I arrived with and considerably less certainty about what came next and that ratio felt right.My mother was at the door.She had Iris on her hip in the specific way she always had her, one arm under her and the other free, and Iris was awake and looking at the car with the wide assessment she gave everything new.I went back and kissed my mother and she held my face for a second and let go."Call me when you land," she said."Yes," I said."And when you get to the hotel," she said."Mum," I said."And if anything happens," she said."Nothing is going to happen," I said."I know," she said. "Call me any
SANTOSPOV: NikolaiThe document arrived at nine that evening.An email from the notary's office with a scanned attachment and a cover note that said the original would be couriered to the estate within forty eight hours and that her client had asked her to confirm receipt personally when it arrived.I opened it at the kitchen table with Hazel beside me and Kaden across from us and the house quiet around us in its evening configuration.The document was twelve pages.The first page was a letter.The handwriting was not familiar to me but the name at the bottom was.Aleksei Varyn.My grandfather.I read it.He had written it four years before he died, which meant he had been in his eighties and still clear enough to put twelve pages together with the specific coherence of a man who had decided he was done carrying something and needed to put it down before he went.He had given it to a notary in Lisbon.Not in Sky Shade City. Not in any place connected to the family name.In Lisbon, wh
WEDNESDAYPOV: NikolaiMy mother called at noon.Not Isabella. My actual mother, which was a distinction that required a moment every time because Isabella was the woman who had raised me and the word still carried her shape even now.I picked up because I had not spoken to her since the charge."Nikolai," she said."Yes," I said."I want to see Kaden," she said. "Today if possible. The facility will allow a visit this afternoon.""I will tell him," I said."I would also like to see you," she said. "If you are willing."I sat with that for a moment.Isabella in a facility having been formally charged. Asking to see her sons. The specific quality of a woman who had operated from a position of complete control for thirty years and was now in a room she could not leave until someone unlocked the door."Yes," I said. "Alright.""Thank you," she said. And she said it simply, without the management, without the specific warmth she deployed when she wanted something. Just two words that land
RAJANPOV: HazelDr Anand arrived at eleven.She was smaller than I expected from her voice. Mid forties, precise in the way scientists sometimes were, the kind of person who occupied space efficiently and without waste. She came through the estate door with a bag over one shoulder and looked around the entrance hall with the expression of someone assessing an environment before committing to it.Her eyes went to the bare wall where the portrait had been.Then to the photograph of Margaret that Nikolai had had framed that morning and hung in its place.She stopped.She looked at it for a long time.Margaret in the valley with her equipment and her expression of someone exactly where she wanted to be.I stood in the hallway and watched Dr Anand look at the photograph and did not say anything because some moments needed to happen at their own pace.She turned."You moved fast," she said."The wall needed something honest on it," I said.She looked at it once more."Yes," she said. "It d
PHOTOGRAPHPOV: HazelMy father sent the photograph while we were still on the phone.It came through as an image on Nikolai's screen and we both looked at it and I took the phone from him and held it closer and looked at the three people standing in what was clearly the valley, the specific quality of the light and the low dense growth visible behind them.Margaret on the left.A young man in the middle who I did not recognise, dark haired, early twenties, with the kind of face that had not yet settled into what it was going to become.And my mother on the right.Nineteen years old.Standing in the valley on Cold Stone Mountain six days before Margaret Varyn died with her hand raised slightly against the light and her face turned toward Margaret and the specific expression of someone who was listening to something that interested her.She had not told me she had been in the valley.She had told me she had spoken to Margaret. She had told me Margaret had shown her the compound. She ha
LENAPOV: HazelI woke up because Nikolai sat up fast.Not loudly. He did not make a sound. But the quality of the air in the room changed the way it changed when someone moved with urgency they were trying to contain and I was awake before I had decided to be.He was on the phone.I lay still and listened to his side of it and assembled what I could and what I assembled did not make immediate sense so I waited until he ended the call and turned to look at me.He told me.I sat up.My mother had been on Cold Stone Mountain the day Margaret Varyn died.She had filed a witness statement.Arthur Varyn had removed it.I sat in the dark bedroom with those three facts and tried to find a configuration where they fit together without implicating my mother in something I did not want her implicated in and I could not find one that worked completely and I was not going to pretend otherwise."She was twenty years old," I said."Approximately," Nikolai said. "She would have been around that age.







