Time: between chapters 3 and 4 of Last Specter (after they've chased the specter and returned to the hotel).


His fitful slumber is shattered by a scream.

"Mum! Mum, Mummy, Mum!"

Hershel Layton sits up with a gasp, seizing the brim of his hat. Nearby, someone leaps out of one bed and scrambles to another. What on earth—?

"Luke, what is it?" The voice is gentle, lacking a brashness he's already come to expect. Hershel blinks. That's right—the letter, the specter, the attack on the hotel. Clark's young son, now sobbing in the bed across the room…

"Shh, it's all right." Miss Altava—no, Emmy—has claimed a spot at little Luke's side. She must have been awakened by the scream, too; the covers on her own bed are flung back haphazardly. "You're safe," she murmurs. "We're right here… you're safe."

"It was—the specter—it was coming—I want my mum!" Luke wails.

"I know, sprout. I know. Shh…" Emmy cradles the boy in her arms, stroking his hair.

" 'm not a sprout," Luke protests between sniffles, but he buries his face in Emmy's shoulder.

Hershel stifles a yawn. Before he can offer assistance, Emmy looks up and meets his eyes. "Nightmare," she says softly. "I've got him, Professor. Go back to sleep."

The set of his new assistant's chin brooks no argument. Hershel simply nods. He slides down in the hotel armchair, closing his eyes. Clearly, he will need to remain in Misthallery until the specter—whatever it may be—is dealt with. Tomorrow, then, will call for a great deal of investigation, and that demands a fresh mind.

A soft crooning fills the room, and Luke's sobs start to quiet. After a moment, Hershel realizes Emmy is singing.

Go to sleep, my baby brother,
Go to sleep, my little hero.
Mama bakes the bread, she mixes the dough,
Baby goes to sleep for to sleep he must go

A traditional lullaby, but one he has only heard sung in French. Where could she have learned this variation?

The song lulls him to sleep before he can ponder the question.

In the morning, Luke teases Emmy for being tired with a genuine smile on his face. She hushes him with a groan, but one corner of her mouth quirks upward as she reaches for her boots.

Hershel decides not to ask her about the lullaby.