CHAPTER TWO ∙ Happy Father's Day

May 13th, 2026

The second letter was dated at the top with 19th June, 2022. The impact of the first line, I figured I should start dating these so the passage of time reminds you of what you're missing, wasn't lessened at all by the film of tears that separated him from it. Vampire eyes refocused and gave him no choice but to confront the reality of what was in front of him.

He had missed so much.

It's Father's Day today. Hope wasn't herself, but we did what we could to distract her. I had a special guest to help with that.

Mary's funeral last week was a real lesson for Hope, and not the kind I wanted to have so soon. The permanence of death isn't something I wanted to explain to my ten-year-old, and certainly not alone. Lisina helped Hope carve Mary's name into the tree under the one you did for Jackson, just so she'd have something left of her. It's not really a wolf thing, permanence. I guess that's why we burn our dead.

Hope asked about death. I told her we're all immortal, but I'm worried she'll hold onto that too much. She can't just distance herself from mortality to cope. It breaks my heart to see her hurt, but she has to understand what it means to be gone. That's how we protect her.

I know I'm probably a broken record at this point, so I'm going to save my dignity and stop begging you to reply. I know you care. Even if you never respond, at least I'll know you have these letters.

I think Hope's nervous about going back to school. I promised to stay nearby for the first two weeks, but I think not being able to talk to you this year is making her nervous. Caroline says you haven't called for an update since whatever happened in February, and I guess Hope's realized you aren't going to be a part of that anymore. She held onto your weekly Skype sessions a lot, and not having them won't be helping her nerves.

Okay, so maybe I'm still guilt-tripping a little. But can you blame me? She hasn't painted in months. Marcel and Rebekah bought her paints and canvases for her birthday. She hasn't touched them. I'm not sure how to help her.

We miss you,

Hayley


June 19th, 2022

Hayley flipped the pancake over, wincing a little at the charred side that was revealed. She'd only avoided burning half the pancakes she'd cooked so far, and what had happened to the waffles was unspeakable.

Whatever. There were enough pancakes for Hope and Freya, and Hayley was more in the mood for the eggs she was boiling up.

"Hope! Breakfast!" she called, waiting a moment to listen for Hope's response. It was more of a grumble than a word, then footsteps stomping down the stairs and heading toward the kitchen.

"You're still in your pyjamas," Hayley observed as Hope hopped up onto a stool at the aptly-named breakfast bar Klaus had installed when he was here. She set the plate in front of Hope, leaving the bottle of maple syrup for her to use unsupervised.

Just today, she'd allow it.

"I was busy reading," said Hope, dribbling an amount of syrup that made Hayley cringe internally.

"Well, get dressed after this, okay?"

Hope nodded, tucking into her pancakes. She wasn't nearly as expressive as usual—hadn't been since February, and now even more since losing Mary.

Freya entered the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a fitted leather jacket Hayley thought she recognised from her own closet. "I'm gonna go pick up Keelin from her shift."

"Wanna take some pancakes for the road?" Hayley waved a spatula at the remaining stack.

Freya eyed the charred mess skeptically. "I think I'll pick up a liquid breakfast for Keelin and I from Starbucks. Thanks, though." She kissed Hope's head before departing.

Hayley watched Hope play with her pancakes in silence, gaze never leaving her plate. "You okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah."

"What were you reading this morning?"

"One of the grimoires in the library."

Hayley had been hoping for something more like a Judy Bloom novel, but she guessed that was suitably diverting. "That's nice. Any spells in particular?"

"Not really."

Hayley didn't quite think that was true. "Do you wanna pick one to show me? Maybe there's something you've been learning at school that I haven't seen before."

"We learned some locating spells, but you've seen them all before."

"I've never seen you do one." Hayley leaned down over the counter, bracing her hands on the cold surface. "Do you think you could show me?"

Hope shrugged. "I guess."

And that seemed to be as much of a commitment as Hayley would get.


The spell didn't take long. It was one that didn't require blood (the kids weren't allowed to use their blood for spells until they were in the witchy equivalent of high school), and some salted soil led the way across a map to the hospital where Keelin worked, revealing Freya's location. Hayley wondered if she should start talking about respecting people's privacy, but that conversation could wait.

"That's great, Hope," Hayley praised. "Can you only track people, or do you think you could find my missing sweater?"

"It's in Aunt Freya's room."

Hayley laughed. "Yeah, I could've guessed that."

Downstairs, a door opened and closed. Hope perked up a bit. "That's not Aunt Freya," she said, looking at the map in confusion. "Is Vincent coming over?"

"Nope, and it's not Josh either—he won't be awake until noon."

"Then who is it?"

Hayley let a grin spread across her face. "It's a surprise. Come on, let's see who it is."


They descended the stairs carefully, Hayley's hands clamped over Hope's eyes. She exchanged a look with Marcel. "Three more steps down," she said, seeing her daughter safely down to the courtyard.

"I know it's Marcel, Mom."

Hayley dropped her hands, smothering her disappointment.

"Of course she did," said Marcel, stepping forward and tugging Hope up into his arms. "She's got a good nose."

"You smell stinky," said Hope.

"Hey! You wouldn't smell like roses either if you had to fly in from New York." He set her down, making a showing of sniffing the top of her head. "And you smell like dirt, so I'm not sure why you're throwing stones from your glass house, young lady."

"I was showing Mom a locator spell."

"Really? A no-blood one, I assume."

"We're not allowed to use the blood ones." Hope almost sounded dejected.

"Why the long face?" Marcel asked, chuckling.

"Lizzie says the dirt ones aren't as accurate."

"We can ask Aunt Freya if she can show you one when she gets home," Hayley suggested. "Maybe Marcel wants to play hide and seek?"

Hope's head whipped around to look at Marcel questioningly.

"Sure," he said, grin broad. "If you think you can catch me."

"I'm getting faster," Hope said proudly. "And I can jump all the way up to the balcony."

Marcel raised an eyebrow at Hayley. She nodded, rolling her eyes a little. Discovering Hope's physical talents was terrifying while it happened, but it had become mundane by this point.

"Okay," said Marcel. "Show me."

Hope didn't grin, didn't smile, did nothing to betray her excitement, but Hayley could tell she was thrilled. Her hands fisted at her sides as she stepped back, gauging the distance between herself and the balcony. She took a run-up and jumped, sailing right over the balcony and landing on the other side. She whirled around to great applause from both Marcel and Hayley.

"Can we play hide and seek now?"

Marcel glanced at Hayley. She nodded.

"All right," he said, clapping his hands together. "I'm gonna count to ten. You're not allowed to leave the compound or go into the tunnels, but everything else fair game."

"Can I use hiding spells?"

"If you can do them in ten seconds, starting now!" Marcel clapped his hands over his eyes. "One … two … three …"

Hope bolted away, headed for her bedroom.

Smothering a laugh, Hayley patted Marcel on the shoulder and whispered a quiet, "Thank you."


Freya and Keelin came home in the middle of the second round. They seemed to sense the importance of keeping Hope distracted, so Freya put a sound barrier around hers and Keelin's bedroom to give her girlfriend a chance to sleep off her shift without being disturbed by the game, and then they began. Freya and Hope joined up as a team, leaving Hayley and Marcel to compete against each other and see who could outrun the witches.

Hayley quickly figured out that Marcel was better at hiding in the house than her. He knew everywhere to put his feet to avoid making the floorboards creak, he knew every crevasse, and despite living there for years she was at a definite disadvantage every time he disappeared into a secret passageway she'd never seen before.

"Stop cheating," Marcel hissed back at her as she ghosted him, stepping everywhere he did.

"She's just using her hearing this round," Hayley replied, "and you know all the sneaky bits."

Marcel doubled his pace, outstripping her and leaving her literally in his dust. She coughed when she caught a face of it.

"Got you!" Hope cried triumphantly, jumping onto Hayley's back. Freya arrived half a minute later, panting slightly.

Somewhere upstairs, Marcel chuckled at Hayley's misfortune.

"Can we please use spells next round?"

"Only if we extend the boundary!" Marcel called, reappearing. "You guys can chase us in the car."

"That's not safe," Freya objected.

"Then we can do it in the bayou," said Hayley. "And Marcel and I will only use human speeds to get away. But we're allowed to climb the trees."

"And hide in the ground."

Freya raised an eyebrow. "You're going to bury yourself? In those jeans?"

"Your sister bought me like ten pairs."

"Why would you need so many?" asked Hope, nose wrinkling.

Freya swept Hope up, laughing. "A better question is probably 'Why can't you just dress yourself'?"

"A bold statement from someone wearing Hayley's jacket," Marcel pointed out.

"Okay, okay," said Hayley, raising her hands. "Let's all make sure our phones are charged and our bladders are empty before we head out to the bayou, okay?"

"Yes, Mom," Hope and Freya intoned, heading out to do as instructed.

Hayley was about to follow when Marcel patted her shoulder, stopping her.

"You still haven't heard from him?" Marcel asked.

"Nope. I, uh, kinda stopped texting him and stuff. It didn't seem to be working. I sent him a letter last week though, so hopefully that makes more of an impact."

"Do you want me to track him down?"

"No, it's okay. He doesn't respond well to being pushed by anyone other than Elijah."

Marcel paused awkwardly. "I have something to tell you."

"That doesn't sound good."

"It's not … bad, I don't think. Do you want me to wait until after Hope is asleep tonight?"

Hayley listened into the goings-on downstairs where Freya was getting Hope a glass of water and offering her something to eat. "I think we have time. What's going on?"

"I ran into Elijah in New York."

"What?"

"I kept him away from Rebekah and told him to leave. He's gone now, I don't know where."

"What was he—is he okay?"

"He's fine. He, uh, he was with someone. A vampire he called Antoinette. They seemed pretty close."

Hayley hoped the swoop her heart did wasn't plain on her face. From the look Marcel gave her, it was.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine. I mean, it makes sense. He's not unappealing, and without memories he'd find someone else."

"Do you want me to tell you she's ugly?"

"That would be super fucked up." Hayley blinked back the most embarrassing tears. "But maybe."

They shared a laugh. Marcel touched her shoulder again, this time for a reassuring squeeze. "You know he did this for all of you. If he had his memories—"

"The first time Klaus fucked up he'd be right there, I know."

"I was gonna say the first time you got lonely, but that works."

Hayley sniffed. "I'm sorry you have to deal with all of this. I know Elijah isn't one of your favourite people."

"You are."

"I'm trying not to cry, you asshole."

"Sorry." Marcel banded his arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug.


Hide and seek went well in the bayou. It ended up becoming a pack-wide ordeal, with Christophe, Henry, Lisina, and all the other families joining in. The game went on into the night, all the wolves chasing after Hayley and Marcel until the kids were exhausted (and the adults even more so).

Freya drove home, being the least tired of them all. Keelin was awake when they returned, announcing that she'd ordered pizza and had time to eat with them before she had to head back to the hospital. Hope was excited—she rarely got to eat with Keelin while she was on night shifts—and Hayley had a feeling Keelin had had her shift moved forward a few hours just to help keep Hope occupied tonight.

Hope picked a movie out of the selection the grown-ups decided they could tolerate, and a plot was made to fashion a blanket fort in the living room. Hayley took the time the others spent building the fort with Hope to write a letter for Klaus, this time on plain printer paper she'd bought for that purpose. It was hard, letting go of the weight of bitterness in her chest and reminding herself that she cared about him, that she'd promised she would never give up on him.

She also took extra care not to mention anything about Elijah and his new friend.

"Mom!" Hope called, running into Hayley's bedroom. "Marcel can't find the popcorn."

"It's behind the baking supplies." Hayley folded the letter up and tucked it under her pillow. "Come on, I'll show you."

Hope raced down to the kitchen, Hayley hot on her heels. They located the kernels, butter, and mini popcorn machine, setting them all up on the kitchen counter. Hayley went to shove a pile of bills aside to make room when one caught her eye. She plucked it out and ran a finger over the red ink that declared RETURN TO SENDER.

Her letter for Klaus.

Marcel came up behind her, spying the letter. "Bastard," he said under his breath.

"What's that?" asked Hope.

"It's nothing," said Hayley, clutching the letter to her chest. "How about you go help Aunt Freya and Auntie Keelin get some more blankets out of the linen cupboard?"

Hope narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, the look of a child that knew they were being treated like one. "Fine," she huffed, disappearing and leaving Hayley alone with Marcel and the letter.

"Are you okay?" Marcel asked.

"It doesn't mean anything," said Hayley, dropping the letter. "Just that he's not at that address anymore."

"I can try and find a current address for you. Maybe Rebekah has some idea."

Hayley nodded, not taking her eyes off the letter in her hands. "That'd be helpful, thanks."

He tucked an arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Let's get this popcorn started."

"Yeah," Hayley agreed. "I wanna get it over with and get little miss to bed before nine."

Marcel tossed the bag of kernels at Hayley's head. "Good luck with that."


May 13th, 2026

Klaus went to fold the letter up and place it with the first when writing on the back side of it caught his eye. There was no introduction, no signature, just two sentences:

I got the first letter back, but Marcel's going to find out where you are, and then I'll send another. I'm not giving up on you.

Blinking back tears, Klaus added it to the stack with the first letter.

"You're finally reading those?" asked Marcel, strolling in with a glass of bourbon in each hand.

"I have a lot to catch up on."

Marcel set the glass in front of Klaus and sat down beside him. "You, uh, might want to pace yourself. There's a lot there. Not all of it's happy."

"She didn't get to turn away. Why should I have the privilege?"

"You did have that privilege. Seven years of it, if I recall."

Klaus flinched. "If this is the part where you scold me for my wrongdoing—"

"Well, first of all, that's not my job. Second of all, if you think I have the energy to do anything but drink and wallow, you're sorely mistaken. In case you forgot, I just said goodbye to a woman that's now my ex for the third time, fought my sister to try and save her life, dealt with the guy that basically killed my daughter once, and now I'm here with you. Why the fuck would I add to my own misery?"

Klaus froze, kicking himself internally. Marcel may have showered, but he still reeked of his own blood—blood spilled trying to keep them all safe. Trying to keep Hope safe.

He reached out to touch Marcel's shoulder, surprised when he didn't flinch away. "I am sorry, Marcellus. I find myself wishing for a lot of things lately, and I've realized your happiness was never the priority it should have been."

Marcel scoffed into his glass. "You're telling me."

"I am," Klaus confirmed, gripping tighter. "And I think you should go to her."

"Rebekah doesn't want to see me."

"No, Davina. Your daughter."

Marcel set his glass down. "You know, she's never really approved me calling her that."

"Is that not what she is?"

"She has … issues. Her dad was a monster."

"You can commiserate, then."

Marcel looked up at him, concern creasing his forehead. "Are you referring to yourself or … him?" He'd never spoken his birth father's name, not even to Klaus.

"Either. Both, and for the same reasons. Marcellus, please … you should go to her. Be with the family you made when you saved her, when you took her into your home, when you walked her down the aisle to marry my … wanker of a brother. Leave all this and be with them. You're not caught between Rebekah and New Orleans. You have another option, and you cannot miss it."

"I do have another option. She's upstairs in a magical coma because losing her family was so devastating she decided to risk everything to save them from themselves. You think I can walk away now?"

"You've been there for her. All these years, every moment I couldn't. You were there for both of them."

Understanding dawned in Marcel's eyes as he glanced at the empty envelope on the table. "You read the first Father's Day letter."

"It was the second one she sent. You were the special guest that helped distract Hope, weren't you?"

Marcel nodded. "We played hide and seek in the bayou and watched superhero movies in a blanket fort until midnight. She was happy. We all were, even if Hayley was pissed about her letter not being delivered."

Klaus swallowed down his guilt with a nip of bourbon. "What's it like?"

"What?"

"Being a single father to a teenager."

"It's … like diving into the Mississippi with a blindfold on."

"Really?"

"No, I fucking hate metaphors. You just have to figure it out. Teenage girls aren't a monolith, and yours is … unique. For now I guess just being physically present has enough novelty to smooth over any major mistakes. Beyond that, ask Caroline or Alaric."

"You've met them?"

"I visited Hope at school a lot. Caroline talked me into chaperoning some dances."

Klaus couldn't stop the laugh that erupted at that image—perhaps the first laugh he'd had since he returned to town. "I would pay good money to see that."

"You won't have to. I'm sure you'll have to do the same eventually. Everyone's parents have to pitch in at some point, and Hayley only got out of it because she was on pack business and I volunteered instead."

"How much do I have to pay you to do it again?"

"No sum in the world. I don't know if you've met the Saltzman twins, but they were … a handful and a half. One spiked the punch, the other spelled the goddamn balloons to stalk me the entire night."

"Thrilling," Klaus commented drily, as though sarcasm would conceal just how much it hurt that he'd missed it. "I have some more letters to get through. Do you mind keeping an ear out for Hope?"

"Freya and Keelin are with her now."

"Freya just helped her take on a near-lethal amount of power, and while I may appreciate Keelin's role in Hope's life I have barely spent more than ten consecutive minutes with her. You're the only one I trust right now."

"A refreshing change from normal." Marcel stood, stretching a little. "I'll move my stuff into the room next to hers. If she wakes, I'll know."

"Thank you, Marcellus."

Marcel shrugged. "She's my sister."

"No, it's … Thank you. For more than I know yet"—he gestured at the unopened letters—"thank you."

Marcel nodded in understanding, then left Klaus alone with his thoughts.