She could expect to hear from Katrielle once a week, detailing her progress on her mysterious business venture. Occasionally the letters would contain a small gift: a pressed flower, a menu for a new restaurant, a cut-out newspaper article with notes scrawled over it. Lucy had to wonder which of the Layton siblings had started that practice first.

The letters became part of her routine. She would linger by her door the day one was due, disappointed if the postman didn't deliver it before she had to go to work. If that was the case, her mind would be on it the entire day, until the moment she arrived home to find it waiting for her.

Away for work, much to the disgust of Fendi, she was surprised to receive a letter at their hotel. Tearing it open, her eyes devoured it in seconds.

Dear Lucy,

I've opened up a detective agency on one of London's most happening streets. "Any mystery solved!" That's the Layton Detective Agency's motto. I can't wait to find out what mysteries are waiting for me.

You must come and visit me if you have the time.

Yours faithfully,

Katrielle

A shorter letter than most, but she could feel the excitement behind each word when she slowed down to reread it. Passing the letter to Alfendi, she couldn't keep the smile from her face.

"The Layton Detective Agency?" Awkward, he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not sure how I feel about the name. I suppose we should have expected that it was going to be detective related."

"I'd love t'see how she's doing."

"I'd love to see that she keeps her nose out of trouble."

–

When they returned to London, Lucy received detailed accounts of all the going ons in Katrielle's life. She heard about the eager assistant, her peculiar new pet, and even a retelling of her favourite meal from each case in so much depth that she felt like she had actually been there with her.

"I'd love to have a meal on a boat," Lucy wrote back. "It must be more exciting than dry land."

The phone in the Mystery Room rang on Friday afternoon, two days later.

"If it's work, it better be the best corpse of my career and not some worthless meeting," Al muttered, eying the clock.

"Hush, Prof," Lucy ordered before she answered it. "'Ello, you've reached t' Mystery Room."

There was a small laugh on the other end. "Is that your assistant voice?"

Her cheeks reddened, though she wasn't sure why. "Katrielle!"

"Hello, Lucy. How have you been?"

The rushed through the pleasantries, Lucy keenly aware that the Prof was standing a few feet away, observing. She was about to ask whether Katrielle wished to speak with him, when the conversation changed.

"Anyway, I suppose you want to know the reason for my call. I've just received your letter and was wondering if you're free tomorrow morning."

"Free?"

"My line of work has its perks." She could feel the pride in Katrielle's voice. "I've become involved with London's elite, and would be able to get us tickets for a day cruise tomorrow for breakfast. Mr Fullhold's boats are really something special, and I think you'd enjoy yourself. What do you say?"

Her mind was blank for a second – three seconds? – before she blurted out, "I'd love to. Where and when?"

Chipper, Katrielle talked her through the arrangements – eight o'clock at the pier by the Thames – before wishing Lucy a good evening. When Lucy put down the phone, she looked up to find the Prof still standing by his desk.

"Breakfast with my sister tomorrow morning, is it?"

"Yes." Lucy gathered her belongings, and when she turned to put on her coat, found that he had made no move. "What? Is that strange?"

"It depends." Al stared at her a little longer, head cocked to the side, before he smirked. "Have a lovely weekend, Lucy, and say hello to Katrielle for me. She seemed to have forgotten all about me this call."

With the wind blowing through her hair, Lucy breathed in and admired the view. While it wasn't warm, London's sky was clearer than it had been in weeks, a brilliant blue above her.

It complimented Katrielle's eyes, which she met every so often as they stood side by side. The other woman was dressed in a black and white dress, a change from the bright outfit she'd seen her in previously, though she now carried with her an air of sophistication.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," Lucy breathed, "'tis."

A waiter called them to a little table, and five courses later, the two grinned at one another, Lucy's full stomach unable to weigh down her rising spirits. Their conversation, like the water beneath them, flowed freely.

"Ernest sounds like a keener assistant than I am," Lucy commented, sipping her milkshake.

"I wouldn't call you an assistant. You only answer the phone because Alfendi refuses to; nobody bothered to call the Mystery Room before you started working there. But yes, Ernest follows my heel more than Sherl does."

She couldn't help but imagine a dog with a boy's face, and laughed. "Well, it's obvious he fancies you."

The moment she said the words, Lucy felt her stomach drop. Fiddling with the straw of her drink, she couldn't look up.

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Katrielle look out at the open waters. "Yes, I'd say he does," she murmured.

She ought to keep her mouth shut, but the words tumbled out. "Do you fancy him back?"

Katrielle took longer this time, sipping her drink until it was all finished, and then slurping the sides of her glass loudly.

Lucy figured it was answer enough, until the noise stopped. "I suppose I should, shouldn't I? He's a good person."

"Aye, he is."

Where's this disappointment coming from, Lucy?

"I don't, though."

She dared to peer over her milkshake.

"I care about him, of course. I'm proud of him for how far he's come. But…" She frowned, and for the first time Lucy saw her look sad. "A selfish part of me is upset about what he did, and how he lied to me. Sometimes, I don't want him anywhere near me or my agency, even though he's been there since the beginning."

"Oh."

Katrielle looked back at her. "Hm?"

Lucy worked to stifle her relief, alongside the butterflies that had grown in her stomach.
"Well, I know what you mean 'bout being upset. Ernest weren't who you thought. When I found out that Fendi weren't the original, I felt betrayed, and manipulated. Silly, really, but that didn't change how I felt."

Katrielle stared back at her, listening.

"But I had to trust him," she continued. "Al's a hot head, and Fendi can be distant, but neither of them were a murderer. It didn't matter what anybody else said. I had to believe in them, and fast. It's not urgent for you, though. Ernest isn't being accused of murder, so give yourself time to trust him again. You wouldn't have let him stay around if you didn't think it were possible, so you should trust yourself too, Katrielle."

"Lucy…" Katrielle blinked – had those been tears? – and nodded, her hand reaching out to touch hers. The electricity ran from her fingers to her core, and she shivered. "Thank you. I think I needed to hear that."

"I-It's 'lright." The sounds of the water crashing against the boat were drowned out by her hammering heart, and she squeezed Katrielle's hand in response before letting go. "But you don't have t'like him, obviously," she added. "Or anybody. Unless you wanted to."

Katrielle surveyed her for a second, almost as though she were examining a piece of evidence, before her face broke out into a smile. "Yes, of course."

Despite the cold winds, Lucy felt warm for the rest of the journey.