The cargo hold of the Cloudslayer has been turned into a makeshift research center. While it would be more orderly if Huey was here, Webby's expertise has still made it effective enough. A board dragged from Webby's room into the plane, highlights the major finds. The other side shows a timeline of events. Stacks of files are ordered by event.

Donald starts to growl, and Mrs. Beakley escorts him to the front of the plane before he can tear the file apart. I hide Eddy's journal behind a file as they walk past me. Why? Because I don't feel like being escorted away myself.

The file I'm using is a direct correspondence between Eddy and Bradford while Eddy was in the Navy. The journal entry is from the day Eddy was given the assignment to infiltrate us. I keep jumping back and forth, to the point I've lost track of what is what:

"The director has entrusted me

Watch yourself, Agent B33.

"an essential role in the downfall

I'm not actually his friend. I keep my distance.

"Said I was the only one he trusted enough to infiltrate them!

If you get caught, you'll be destroyed for the greater good

"The McDucks are chaos, how could I get caught by them? Order always triumphs."

I won't be, you can trust me, sir.

I only realize I threw the paper and journal when I look up and see everyone staring at me. The kids all glance at each other fearfully, while the adults maintain eye contact. Scrooge glances at the notebook and his pupils shrink. He looks back at me.

"Maybe you should take a break, lass." his voice is tight.

I stand up and storm to the front of the plane, flopping onto one of the seats next to Donald. At least Donald will feed into my frustration. I know he blames himself for bringing Eddy to me and driving me to leave on the Spear of Selene- an ill-advised trip that stranded me on the moon for the first 11 years of my sons' lives. And Donald doesn't disappoint.

"You've had his journal this whole time?" he screams.

"I literally just found it in Huey's study!" I scream back.

"What was it doing there?"

"You tell me!"

Donald falls into a sulky silence, arms folded as he slouches in his chair. I groan, burying my face in my hands. Low voices slide up from the lower part of the plane, though most of them hover beneath us like fog. I only catch them now because Donald and I are silent.

"If Huey found out that Dad carried a journal around like him…" it's Louie.

"So what? It's not like they're the same person." Webby interjects.

"Aren't they?" Dewey's question makes me flash back to the first quiet moment I'd had with Donald after reuniting with him during the Moon's invasion of the Earth.

"My smile fades as I see Huey's pictures on the wall of Donald's houseboat- carrying the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, grinning self-righteously at Louie freaking out over something, yelling while Dewey is trying to calm him down, just standing there with a blank expression. The yelling is pure McDuck, and so is the hunger for adventure in his expression and pose while holding the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. But for all Huey's clear McDuck ties…

"What is it?" Donald turns to look at the pictures behind him.

I sigh and stare down into my coffee.

"Huey." I pause, "He's just so- so much like him."

I feel a hand place itself on my shoulder and look up at Donald. His forehead is creased with empathy, but his gaze is intense.

"That doesn't mean anything except that Huey's biologically related to him." Donald tightens his grip on my shoulder, "I raised him, so trust me when I say the similarities don't extend to their loyalties. Huey's as loyal as any McDuck."

Back in the present, I look sideways at Donald, and he catches my eye. He reads my expression and shakes his head at me.

"It doesn't go that far." he reiterates.

"I know." I turn away from him and try to tune out the rest of the family.