Sherry waited outside the dining room. Grayson and Alexia had been talking in there for a really long time, and when the door opened, Alexia came out and stared at her. She looked mad—but not super mad, which was good; Sherry had been worried Alexia would yell and tell her to leave the house.
"I'm sorry." Alexia's expression didn't change.
"I'm sorry for pushing you, Dr. Ashford."
"It's fine," Alexia said, and she started to walk away.
"Where are you going, Dr. Ashford?"
"I have to look into something."
"What?"
Alexia turned and looked at her, hands on her hips. "The G-creatures."
"Is—is something gonna happen?" Sherry asked, scared. It was the kind of scared she'd been the night Raccoon City had happened, when she'd started to notice the bad things happening—the zombies, the people running through the streets, the soldiers and policemen telling everyone to take shelter at the Raccoon City Police Department...
But she'd locked the doors and stayed in the house that night, because the bad things had scared her. She'd hoped and hoped her parents would come home at some point—and that everything would suddenly be okay when they did.
That was how Sherry felt right now. The fear of waiting and waiting for everything to be okay again, but knowing it wouldn't.
"Possibly."
"Like Raccoon City?"
Alexia sighed, rubbed the space between her eyes. "Possibly."
"You—you won't let that happen, right? Umbrella's already in big trouble."
"I know." Alexia turned and started walking away again. She stopped, turned around again, and stared at her. Her eyes, and the way Alexia stared and never seemed to blink, reminded Sherry of her cousin's mean cat. "I'll do what I can," she said.
Sherry watched Alexia walk away, then vanish around a corner. Grayson stood beside her. She wondered if he'd been there the entire time. "Alexia means it, you know," he said. "She's gonna take care of those G-creatures, kiddo."
"I hope you're right, Grayson."
He patted her head. His hand was really big and heavy. "She doesn't have a choice," he said. "Alexia's got a daughter to think about now."
"Does she even care about Veronica?" Sherry asked, and looked up at him. "I've never seen her hold her."
"She's still adjusting to the mom thing," Grayson said, and gestured for her to follow him. They went into the parlor. Sherry watched Grayson pick through the books on a shelf, select one, and walk over to her. "Here," he said, and handed it to her.
PHOTO ALBUM was stamped on the leather cover in embossed gold letters. It reminded Sherry of the fancy-looking books her daddy had kept in his study, the ones she'd never seen him read or touch. She opened it.
Photos were displayed in the plastic sheets that served as pages; it made Sherry think of her collection of Pokemon cards, when she'd still owned a collection of Pokemon cards. She missed her cards. Claire had bought her a new pack after Raccoon City, and said she'd help Sherry rebuild her collection.
Sherry wondered how Claire was doing now, or if she was even looking for her. Was Leon? She started to leaf through the pages of the photo album, the pages crinkling loudly.
The pictures started with Grayson as a young adult—the marker on the Polaroid said 1989—and in a lot of the pictures, he was standing with a mean-looking man with blonde hair and pale blue eyes. In the picture she was looking at now, the pale man and Grayson were on a boat.
"He looks like Alexia," Sherry said, and sat on the couch.
"Her twin brother. You'd met him when you were little," Grayson said, and sat down beside her. "You'd called him a Disney prince. That picture's from right after college graduation. Alfred took me sailing on his yacht. We were off the coast of Crete."
"I don't remember him."
"Don't worry about it," Grayson said.
"What happened to Alfred?"
"He was murdered."
Sherry frowned. "I'm sorry."
"It's been a while. It's fine."
Sherry slowly turned the pages, looking at every photograph. She recognized a few people. In one picture, Grayson and Alfred were standing with Mr. Wesker. In another, Sherry saw her parents. Her dad had a beer in his hand and didn't look very happy, and her mom was smiling and sunburned, holding a baby.
"Why do you have a picture of my dad?"
"William hated having his photograph taken, so of course I took it. This was at some picnic thing Umbrella threw for its employees." Grayson pointed at the baby and said, "Bet you know who that is."
"Me."
"You were only a year-old. Kept running away from Annette. Was pretty funny. She spent the whole day chasing you around."
Sherry turned the page. Another picture of her mom. It was almost professional quality; her mom stood in her lab coat and jeans on a rainy sidewalk, outside some kind of bar.
"I had this whole phase where I was really into photography," Grayson explained, chuckling. "Annette volunteered to be my guinea pig. She wore that damn lab-coat everywhere. Even to the bar."
"Mommy spent a lot of time at work," Sherry said, and paused. Then, "Did you really love her, Grayson?"
"I did."
"Really?"
"Really."
Sherry turned the page, almost at the end of the album. Grayson was dressed in an RPD uniform in this picture, leaned against a police car.
"I hated bartending," he said. "I became a cop because I wanted a good career, you know? So I could take care of you and your mom when she finally broke it off with Bill. You know she was gonna serve him the divorce papers right before Raccoon City hit?" Grayson paused, then said, "Shit, I shouldn't be telling you this."
"It's okay," Sherry said, and meant it. "Mommy was… unhappy. Daddy and her always fought. I used to hate coming home from school whenever they were both home, because all they did was fight and argue." Sherry frowned. "His research was more important than us, I guess. But you paid attention to us, Grayson—and you never yelled at mommy."
"I could never bring myself to yell at Annette. Bill put her through enough bullshit."
"She loved you, you know," Sherry said, and looked at him. "She never told me that, but I knew."
"I know she did." Grayson frowned, stared at something. Then he said, "I don't like thinking about that time. Raccoon City messed me up. I saw some fucked up shit there. I suppressed those memories best I could. Even managed to convince myself I'd forgotten most of it. Pretended I didn't know Claire when—shit."
"You never saw her after Raccoon City, right?" Sherry asked.
"Yeah," Grayson said, and Sherry wasn't sure if he was lying or not. "Never saw her again." He looked at her. "I'm sorry about your mom, Sherry," he said suddenly. "Watching Annette die like that was… it hurt. I couldn't even recover her body from NEST. The very least I could have done for her, and I couldn't."
"The lab was blowing up, Grayson. None of us could have."
"I should have tried," Grayson said, and sighed. He was quiet for a long time. Then, "But I guess you're right. We were on a short clock."
Sherry grabbed his hand. "You did try, Grayson," she said. "You followed mommy and tried to convince her to stop. You wanted to keep her safe." She suddenly felt guilty, and said, "I'm sorry for saying you'd abandoned us."
"I did abandon you," he said, and moved his hand from hers. "I went to Rockfort and pretended Raccoon City never happened. I never looked for you."
"It's okay," Sherry said. "You didn't want any reminders."
"Maybe," Grayson said, and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Maybe that was it." He stood and said, "Something like Raccoon City can't happen again. Alexia's the best chance we've got."
"Is she a good guy now?"
Grayson laughed. "No. She's a pragmatist."