Anya goes to the hospital
"Mrs. Forger?" said the receptionist in the office's doorway. "There's a call for you, I believe it's from your daughter's school again."
Yor bolted up, a concerned look on her face. "Again?!" she exclaimed, before following the receptionist to the phone and picking up the call. "Hello? Mrs. Forger here. Is something wrong with Anya?"
She instantly recognized the voice on the other end of the line, for it was a voice she had already heard several times during the past few weeks.
"Yes, she's with me at the infirmary…"
"Oh my God, is she hurt? Is she okay?"
"She seems to have another throat infection, her throat is so swollen she's barely able to swallow her own saliva. Can you come pick her up as soon as possible?"
"Of course, of course!" Yor yelled, stricken with panic. "Tell her I'm coming right away."
"See you soon, Mrs. Forger. I'll tell Anya you're coming for her, she'll be relieved."
The school nurse hanged up, leaving Yor alone with the receptionist.
"Do you want me to call Mr. McMahon for you?" she asked.
"No" said Yor before breathing in. "I'll go to him directly."
The Director of Policy's office was in a nearby corridor. Yor gathered her courage for a minute before knocking on the door.
"Come in, Yor."
She entered and saluted her superior embarrassedly.
"What is it, this time?"
"I'm sorry, I… I have to… Anya's sick and I have to go pick her up. I won't be able to work for the rest of the day, I'm afraid."
"That's the third time this month, and it's only the 12th of February!" McMahon observed. "Why can't they call your husband instead?"
"I don't know, I guess being her mother automatically makes first on the list of persons to call in case of emergency!"
Her heart swelled with pride and maternal love as she said it.
"That's true", he admitted. "Besides, you knew what you were getting into, when you took on the role of this girl's mother. Caring for a sick child is something you've been used to, haven't you?"
"That's my role as her mother, indeed. I'm sure Loid could get there in no time, but I don't want to ruin his day's work if I can go in his stead to pick Anya up!"
"Well then Mrs. Forger, off to Eden: your sick daughter needs you!"
"Many thanks, director McMahon!" she bowed at him.
"You can take the day off, but I'm going to have to warn you: you'll run out of sick leaves before next month, at this rate. You should go see a doctor. Throat infections are common in children her age, but they can also be indicating a worse underlying condition… Not that I want to worry you, but you have to be ready for everything!"
"Yes, I'm taking her to the doctor's as soon as we're out of Eden." Yor said, a hint of worry in her eyes.
"Mama! I'm here!" Anya yelled, as she saw her mother entering the nurse's office.
She stood up from the booth chair she was standing on, and ran to her mother whose extremely concerned face turned to pure joy upon noticing the little girl was, in fact, very lively. She took the girl into her arms and kissed her on both cheeks.
"My throat hurts, mama…" Anya said. "Look…"
She opened wide and Yor took a look: she noticed how red and swollen the back of Anya's throat was. It reminded her of a condition Yuri had from time to time, when he was little: an infection of the tonsils that often occurred during winter and early spring. But that happened only a couple times over the course of his childhood, not thrice in less than a month.
"You should go see the doctor", the nurse advised. "This is probably nothing to worry about, but you should make sure anyways. At worst, she'll need a tonsillectomy."
"A what?" mother and daughter asked at the same time.
"Nothing bad, sweetheart!" said the nurse to Anya. "I believe your father works at the hospital, does he not?" she added, eyeing the girl's file on her desk. "He'll explain to you better than I!"
"Papa?"
Yor did not answer right away, for she was facing a dilemma: she wanted to take Anya to the Central hospital, where Loid worked, but she feared her husband would be most distraught to learn that their daughter was coming there for medical reasons. She ultimately decided to go to the hospital, because Anya wanted to see her papa.
"I'll call you a taxi!" said the nurse.
Dr. Loid Forger had just finished with a long appointment when Dr. Fiona Frost unannouncedly entered in his office, ready to deliver him a message.
"Fiona, how many times do I need to…"
"Agent Twilight, Anya Forger has just arrived at the emergencies services, accompanied by Yor Briar. I thought you would like to know."
"What?" he asked, standing still for a split second before bolting out of his desk. "Is she…?"
He waited not for Fiona's answer and ran past her as fast as he could, his face displaying utter shock and distress. Had he stood at his desk for another second, he would have heard Fiona telling him Anya was coming only because of her repeated throat infections, but he was already running down the stairs with an extensive set of worst-case scenarios playing in his head. When he arrived at the accident & emergency service, he asked the receptionist who informed him that Ms. and Mrs. Forger had just been redirected towards one of the otolaryngologists, Dr. Strauss. He let out the most relieved sigh: if Anya had been in any way badly injured, she would certainly not have been sent to the nose and throat doctor!
"Why the Hell couldn't Fiona tell me right away it was benign? I nearly had a stroke there!"
He then remembered that Anya already had a couple throat infections during the past few weeks.
"Tonsilitis are common at her age, but this often…? I hope it's nothing bad. I'll just wait for them outside my colleague's office, I guess. Besides, Dr. Strauss is good with children, this should go well."
Relieved that his daughter was not on the verge of death, he made his way to said office. When he arrived in the corridor, he immediately noticed that his wife and daughter were sitting on chairs next to the door: the doctor's current appointment was not done yet, and they were waiting for their turn.
"Papa! Papa!" Anya exclaimed, upon picking up her father's thoughts.
"I'm here, sweetie. Dr. Frost told me you arrived here with your mother. Is everything alright?"
"Looks like our little Anya has yet another throat infection today…!" Yor explained with a somewhat concerned look. "It's the third time in less than a month!"
"I don't have any upcoming appointments", he lied. "I'll go in with you, then."
"Papa, you don't have to worry about me!" Anya said, because seeing her father in such distress made her feel worse than the actual tonsilitis.
"You're my daughter and I should be there in such moments, no matter how trivial the condition." He answered, sitting next to them in the corridor.
"Not to mention, kids often fear medical examinations… I hope she'll be able to handle it!"
Anya threw a look half-concerned, half-touched look at her father. "Don't worry papa, I can manage this!"
After a short while, the doctor left his office with the previous patient and noticed the Forger family waiting in the corridor. He smiled and waved at them.
"I knew I had a surprise appointment with Ms. Forger and her mother, but I didn't expect her father too!" exclaimed the otolaryngologist. "Long time no see, Dr. Forger!"
"Greetings, Dr. Strauss. I'm here as Anya's father, though, not as a co-worker. I came as soon as I learned she was here."
"Well then, shall we?"
It was a doctor's office like any other, with the exception of a couple strange devices in the corners of the room. Anya worriedly eyed at them.
"These are not torture instruments, no need to worry!" said the doctor when he noticed Anya's face. "These are my medical instruments. They are meant to heal."
That was not enough to completely dispel the cloud of doubt over Anya's mind, but the adults proceeded to the desk and she followed them.
"Tell me everything." He said while replacing his glasses.
"Our daughter has another throat infection, it seems," Yor declared. "The school called me to come pick her up."
Loid added. "It's the third time in three weeks, and it looks worse each time. Her tonsils are practically touching!"
"Tonsilitis is common at this time of the year – cold air, germs, humidity and so on… – for children her age, but it can prove problematic if it happens too often. Have you seen a doctor before?"
"Each time, yes. Our family doctor, who only prescribes Anya some medication."
"I fear that medication is not going to be enough, if it happens so often…"
Anya stressed out when the doctor asked her to stand on the examination table, but holding hands with both her parents gave her the strength to overcome her anxiousness. She tried to climb on it but she was too small, even with the help of a step stool, and they lifted her up on the table.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, it's nothing", Yor reassured her while brushing over the back of her hand with her thumb. "We'll be home in no time and I'll make you hot cocoa."
The little girl nodded, but the sight of the doctor in a white blouse walking towards her made her fret as it remembered her unhappier times.
"Come on, Anya", said her father gently. "I know you're brave enough."
"All I need is to take a look at your throat, young girl. I'm not giving you any injection, no need to be afraid of needles!"
Anya eventually complied and reluctantly opened her mouth wide, her little hand clenching hard on her mother's fingers.
"That is a serious case of tonsilitis, indeed…" he declared, after looking under different angles. "And if it's a repeating condition, I fear there's only one way out of this."
"Which is?" Loid concernedly asked.
"Surgery."
"What?" both parents exclaimed at the same time. "Her tonsils are just swollen, there's no need to…" added Loid.
"There would be no need to intervene if it were an occasional condition. Medication would be enough, as prescribed by your general practitioner. But if she's having tonsilitis on a regular basis, to the point she can barely swallow anything, she will have to undergo tonsillectomy."
Yor looked as if the doctor had announced that their daughter was to be dissected alive.
"Tonsillectomy is a minor surgery", Loid whispered her. "Anya will only have to spend two days at the hospital."
"It's indeed quite trivial, there's absolutely no need to worry."
But it did little to relieve the mother, who was almost more distressed than her daughter.
"Anyways, it is the only way to relieve your daughter of her repeated throat infections."
"If Dr. Strauss says so, darling, there's no arguing around it…" Loid whispered to his wife, taking her hand into his. "And you, Anya? Are you afraid?"
"A little…" admitted the girl. "But if you two are with me, I have nothing to worry about!" she added with a smile.
"You're a brave little girl", said Dr. Strauss. "Well then, shall we decide on an appointment with the anaesthetist to prepare for the surgery?"
"Go on home, I'll call a taxi for you two", said Loid once out of Dr. Strauss' office. "I have an appointment coming up that I can't afford to miss, but I should be home for lunch."
"You're not thinking of leaving early!" Yor protested. "I already took a sick day off, so you can focus on your work. Anya and I'll wait for you at home, we'll watch cartoons and do drawings. You surely must have important patients to attend to!"
"I'm not thinking of leaving early: I am going to leave early!" he retorted. "I may have important peoples in my patients list, but none of them is as important as you two are."
"I should be sick more often, if that makes papa be romantic with mama…!" Anya observed from the corner of her eye.
"I'll make lunch, then!" Yor exclaimed, with a determined glint in her eyes.
The prospect of spending the day at home with her parents instead of attending school brightened Anya's mood despite the pain in her throat, and she smiled when her father kissed her goodbye.
"I can get take-away on my way home, if you want. I don't want to overburden you!"
"No, that'll be fine! It's not like Anya is on the verge of death, isn't she?"
"She sure doesn't seem like, anyways!" he answered, his hand ruffling the girl's hair. "See you soon, then, Mrs. Forger…"
Anya did not even need to look up to know her parents exchanged a brief kiss over her head: their thoughts were more than enough.
"Mama and papa are in love", she thought, smiling deep inside, and it helped relieve the pain a little.
At the other end of the corridor, Fiona was looking at the scene from behind a corner, biting her nails harder as she saw Loid and Yor so close to each other. She had tailed them ever since she announced Dr. Forger his wife and daughter were at the hospital, and was hoping to gather intel on the family to proceed with her master-plan to replace Yor.
"Twilight's fake daughter staying at the hospital means I'll be able to spend time with him, and who knows? Maybe Yor Briar will expose herself as the incompetent mother she is and I'll be able to secure the role of Mrs. Forger! And don't get too close to my dear Twilight, you wench…!"
She nearly bit her own thumb off when she saw them sharing a brief yet emotional kiss.
"Twilight, you… This woman has bewitched you!"
She ran off, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
Once back home, women of the Forger family attended to their own chores: Anya still had several unfinished pages in her Bondman colouring book, and Yor had lunch to make for three. The latter disappeared in the kitchen while the former drew under her dog's watchful eye in the living-room, and was paying little attention to her mother yelling and cursing at the kitchen utensils as she was laboriously making soup – the simplest of dishes was still quite the trial for Yor Forger, whose cooking skills, despite having definitely improved, were not there yet.
Anya was busy colouring Bondman's hat – her tongue sticking out showing how focused she was – when someone opened the door and came in.
"I'm home!"
Bond let out a joyful bark and ran towards Loid.
"I came back as soon as I could", he explained while hanging his coat on the rack. "There were a couple VIP patients whose appointments I could not postpone, but these went well and I was able to leave the hospital right on time."
Yor, who had walked away from her cooking upon hearing her husband coming home, looked at him embarrassedly, as she was quite a mess: there was almost more soup on her apron than in the pot, and she had managed to get a couple finger cuts despite using no sharp device. She remembered her colleagues assuring her that a "welcome home kiss" was the least she could do for her husband, and tried to muster her courage in order to give Loid one. Kisses were rather new for them, and they had already kissed twice today: she was not sure she could tolerate a third one yet in the span of a couple hours. But she had to try, for the sake of their marriage, and went to him with a face so red it looked like a tomato.
"W-welcome home, darling…" she muttered in a tiny voice, moving her face next to his as he was standing awkwardly still, waiting for her to make the move.
Anya stopped colouring the moment she started paying attention to her parents' thoughts, and looked anxiously at them while they were approaching one another like two awkward teenagers. Their lips brushed as her mother stood on the tip of her toes to reach her father, who knew absolutely not how to behave. He suspected that Yor's fixation with "welcome-home kisses" came from her colleagues telling her things about married life, but he wanted not to interrupt her surge of courage and let her do as she wanted to. Truth be told, the touch of her lips still electrified him even a couple weeks since their first kiss, and he feared she would take offence if he moved even in the slightest while she was trying to overcome her embarrassment.
"Kiss already!" Anya sighed mentally, frustrated at the sight of her parents still beating around the bush.
The family then sat down for an impromptu lunch. Yor had decided to make soup, not only because it was still the season but because of Anya's sore throat. And it was also quite difficult to miss entirely, especially since she started making sense out of the cooking instructions on the back of the packet soup box. It was the simplest of meals, but one that the Forger family thoroughly enjoyed. Loid was gently blowing over his bowl to cool the soup a bit, thinking back on his wife's cooking skills. There was a long way to go still, but the fact that she had prepared it herself and was not looking like it could kill someone just from smelling it was enough for him.
"I want to be your real wife."
The words she had said to him on the eve of her birthday party, a fortnight ago, were still regularly coming up to his mind, and he could not help but feel flustered every time – all the more when he was about to eat something she had cooked with love. He decided it was cool enough to taste it, and took a spoonful to his mouth; he then noticed a set of anxious crimson eyes locked on him: she was waiting for his reaction. Anya looked at the two of them over the edge of her own bowl, as she was smelling her soup.
"Papa says romance in Bondman is cliché and boring, but he hasn't seen his own romance with mama! At least Bondman is straightforward with Princess Honey!"
During the afternoon, mother and daughter finished the latter's Bondman colouring book while the father had a little paperwork left to do in his office, pertaining to Operation Strix. He sat at his desk and took his face in his hands for a couple seconds so as to gather his thoughts. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the meeting appointment lying on his desk, which he had forgotten: he was due to meet Handler the next day, at one of the usual places.
"Great, I'll tell her about Anya's surgery – if she does not already know by then, that is. I'll ask her to deploy more undercover agents in the hospital staff during my daughter's stay, that'll be safer."
He then noticed he had forgotten something in the bedroom, more precisely the book that contained the cipher for this week's communications, and went to pick it up. It was where he had left it last time, on his bedside table.
"Looks like Yor forgot to make the bed today…" he thought, as he noticed the sheets and blankets were still in disorder. "I'll just do it myself, no need to disturb her while she's with Anya. And now that I think of it, why is it her side of the bed that's always the messier?"
Once the paperwork wrapped up, he joined the girls in the living-room and Anya triumphally presented him their drawings.
"Will you buy me another colouring book?" she pleaded.
"If you're a brave girl while at the hospital, I'll buy you a year's worth of colouring books."
Her eyes shone. She would have preferred a year's worth of peanuts, but colouring books were a good idea too.
"How about hot cocoa and cookies for everyone, while we watch cartoons all afternoon?" suggested Yor.
"Yes! Papa, say yes, please!"
"Well, that doesn't sound displeasing…!" he admitted, while sitting down on the couch. "Anya, doesn't it hurt when you speak?"
"A little", said the girl. "But I can manage it. I'm a big girl!"
"You're getting there, but you're still quite little. You're only six years old, you don't need to push yourself."
And he stretched his arm over her little shoulders so as to give her a hug. Yor soon came back to them, holding a tray with three mugs of hot cocoa and several bowls filled with cookies. She sat next to Anya and pulled a thin blanket over them. Bond came by and lied down on the ground right next to the couch.
Anya fell asleep between her parents halfway through the afternoon's Bondman reruns, and the two of them were left watching kids cartoons while their daughter was sound asleep. They dared not make a sound nor a move, fearing it would wake their child up, and stood quietly through several episodes until Anya finally snapped awake.
"My throat hurts…"
"You'll be better tomorrow", her father reassured her.
"Let me make you some tea with honey, nice and hot!" said her mother, bolting up from the couch.
Anya and Loid remained there while Yor put some water to boil. The spy absentmindedly started to brush through his daughter's hair and admired how soft to the touch they were.
"Anya, if only you had the slightest idea of the mountains I could move to make you feel better…!"
The little girl unexpectedly blushed.
"Well, sometimes I feel like she's reading into me like an open book!"
Night fell over Berlint and the Forgers had dinner earlier than usual, for Anya was feeling tired. Yor made soup again, but a different recipe this time. It was more complicated than putting powder into boiling water but she managed to pull off a decent result and neither Loid nor Anya fainted because of it. The little girl's throat was so irritated and her tonsils so swollen that she could barely speak, but she smiled nonetheless when she tasted her mother's soup.
Between each spoonful, Loid looked at the girl with concerned eyes. Her condition was not that dire to begin with, yet he could not help but feel a hint of worry in his chest whenever he remembered she was going to have a surgery, even one as benign as a tonsillectomy.
His mind was still clouded with worry when Yor joined him in the bed after taking a shower. He was reading a novel but could not make sense out of it, as his mind remained focused on Anya. Yor immediately picked up his distress and sat next to him.
"Everything is going to be alright, don't worry. Anya is a strong little girl, believe me. She's stronger than you think."
"Do you really think so? I can't help but worry about her since the appointment at the hospital…"
"She will be fine. As long as you and I are here for her."
She slipped under the blanket and cuddled him.
"Let's sleep, Loid. Worrying to no end won't lead us nowhere, and you'll have to be well-rested for tomorrow and the next days."
"You're right."
He turned to her and kissed her, before turning off the lights, and they fell asleep in each other's arms.
Yor woke up in her old apartment, the one where she used to live alone before marrying Loid, where she had barely any furniture. Impersonal, cold, unhomely, lonely, there were many words to describe it but she could not pick none as she felt her heart crushing upon the realisation. Had it all been a dream? Loid, Anya, Bond, her new position as Mrs. Forger? Her blossoming romance with her not-so-fake husband? She could not believe it, for it had felt so real, so tangible… The distress of being back to her old lonely life made her cry. She had forgotten how unfulfilling that life used to be, when she had no one to care for, no one to love, not even her little brother who was away most of the time because of his job at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. But what had happened? She refused to believe she dreamt all of it. Someone had pulled a prank on her, that had to be the answer! She rose up from her single bed and discovered that her photos of Yuri, displayed next to her phone, had disappeared too. If this was a prank, it was a very bad one. She walked to the window and saw her half-translucent reflection on the glass: she was naked and drenched in blood. Not hers, seemingly, for she felt no pain whatsoever. Her heart started racing, for she could not figure out whose blood it was, or where and when she had gotten drenched in it. The scent of blood filled her nostrils and turned her stomach upside down so much she fell on her knees and nearly threw up. Around her, the world started to go black and she soon was swallowed by the ever-growing void, a void and empty place where her innermost thoughts echoed endlessly. Light came again upon her, and she found herself in a meadow she immediately recognised: it was the one right behind her childhood home, in which she used to play with Yuri a long time ago. She was still her adult self, but no longer naked and drenched in someone's blood: in fact, she did not feel like she had an actual body in the first place. The scenery looked peaceful, and it was dusk: she felt like she could smell what her mother was cooking in the kitchen, twenty or thirty meters away in the warm air of this peaceful summer evening. But there was not anybody in sight, not even animals: she was the only presence. Far above her, the whirring sound of airplanes resounded and stirred up horrible memories buried deep beneath the surface of her mind. A single aircraft glided above the village, and something fell from it. She held her breath and her heart missed a beat when she understood what is was. Reflexively protecting her head with her arms, she waited for the bomb to blow up. She waited for an awkwardly long time, and eventually lowered her arms and looked. Nothing had changed.
Then only, the bomb exploded, just above the quiet village. A tremendous blast that instantly destroyed everything she had ever known and loved, leaving behind nothing but heaps of ruins and dismembered dead bodies. A huge flash, which she sometimes wished it had taken her as well as her parents. Then Yuri's shrieks, louder than bombs. And then nothing but void, again – for the longest time.
She jumped awake and gasped, her heart still madly pounding in her chest. She blinked several times before her eyes adapted to the penumbra in which her bedroom was plunged, and wondered where she was for a couple seconds: it looked nothing like her old bedroom in the old apartment. She noticed someone's soft breath right next to her. Reality settled back in, and she felt immensely relieved that she had not dreamt of her husband in the first place: he was very much real, and was sleeping in her very bed. And if he was real, it meant that their daughter Anya was real too, and that she needed the help of her mother – herself. She fought the urge to go check on her and eventually decided against, because she wanted not to wake her up. She instead laid back on her pillow and cuddled against her husband once more, basking in the warmth that radiated out of his body from under the fabric of his pyjamas. He groaned a little and reached an arm over her; she found sleep back again in no time in his embrace.
Nightmares had been a staple of her lonely nights ever since the war, and she never grew used to them. In fact, it was not until she married Loid that their rate went down, even though she still had one from time to time. This particular nightmare, though, had been the worst in a long while – and coincidentally, the first one since her husband started sharing her bed, nearly two weeks ago. It was also the first time she was able to fell asleep again so soon: such nightmares used to mean insomnia afterwards. After all, no one had nightmares while awake.
The next morning, everyone in the Forger household woke up early: Yor because she wanted to make a nutritious breakfast for the long day ahead, Loid because he had to meet with Handler early in the morning before heading off on side missions, and Anya because her throat was still hurting. Her parents called Eden to inform them that she would not attend school today, and Yor then called the city hall to take another day off. Anya was feeling a little down, that morning, but her parents did their best to raise her spirits and her big white dog took part in it. He nestled his head on her lap as she was drinking her mug of hot cocoa, and it instantly relieved her of much of the pain.
"Anya's appointment at the anaesthetist is at eleven o'clock, isn't it? I fear I won't be able to make it in time, I have… VIP patients that I can't afford to miss, this morning. I should be able to catch up with you outside of the hospital by noon, though."
"Are you not working at the hospital today?" Yor wondered.
"Some of these VIP patients specifically asked for home appointments. Rich people…!"
"Papa's a liar. He's going to do super cool spy stuff while I'm going to stay sick at home…!"
"Well then, good luck on your VIP appointments, Dr. Forger…" Yor lovingly whispered as she was tightening his tie knot.
Anya froze and pricked her ears, unable to decide whether her parents being romantic with each other was extremely awkward or extremely wholesome, but she listened closely nonetheless – both to word and thought.
"Good luck with our sick daughter", he answered with a slight smile. "Good luck with the doctor today!" he added for Anya. "Don't forget what I told you, about being brave: it begins with today's appointment!"
"Oui!" the little girl retorted, still interested in a year's worth of colouring books.
"Well then, I'm off", Loid declared while putting his hat on.
He reached for the doorknob and was about to slip out of the house when Yor held him back with only a couple words.
"Loid, you're… not forgetting anything?" she asked with half-pleading, half-flirting eyes.
"Now that you mention it…" he went back to his wife and unhesitatingly planted a tender kiss on her lips, as she slightly rose her head to match his.
Anya looked away and tried to block her parents' thoughts from parasitizing her mind, but to no avail and she nearly regretted wishing for her parents to be romantic towards one another: they were, at times, sappier than high-schoolers in a cheap Berlint in Love bootleg!
"Good day, or should I say good night, agent Twilight."
"Good day to you, Handler."
They were sitting in Sylvia's office, at the WISE underground headquarters. It was time for the weekly report on Operation Strix.
"How are things with your family?" asked Sylvia out of the blue. "I've had a couple reports from agent Nightfall…"
She waved at several files scattered on her desk.
"Our daughter is sick", Twilight retorted straight off. "She has an appointment with the anaesthetist today at eleven."
Handler's glasses shone with concern. "Nothing serious, I hope?"
"It doesn't seem so. She's had three throat infections in a row since the past couple weeks, and it's getting worse each time."
"Tonsilitis?"
"That's the term. How'd you…"
"I used to be a parent, too."
"That's right. I'm sorry, Hand–"
"There's nothing to be sorry about, agent Twilight. Anyways, is your w– Yor Briar proving herself useful in that matter?"
"Truth be told, Handler, I'm the one who has been a dead weight at home for the past few days. My wife… I mean, Yor has been nothing but perfect for Anya. She cares for her as if she had given birth to her."
"This woman sometimes does unknowingly more for Operation Strix than you, agent Twilight."
"That's… below the truth, Handler."
"I know."
"Anyways, today's appointment should decide whether Anya gets a surgery or not, and when she'll undergo it."
Sylvia crossed her hands before her mouth and pensively looked at the files on her desk. "Operation Strix, code: hospital", she muttered before resuming out loud. "You'll have to keep me updated on this, agent Twilight. If Anya is to have an operation, we'll have to… make sure she's in the safest hands possible. Ours, I mean."
"She's just an ordinary first-grader, there's no need to act so cautious… it'd only raise suspicion around her!"
"That's mostly right, yes, we don't have to fill the surgery room with our agents. But I still intend to personally keep an eye out on her. This little girl is going to need support."
"That's very considerate of you, Handler. With all the side missions I received for this week, I won't be able to spend much time by her side, and I fear that Yor can't afford missing too many work days…"
"What do you mean by "side missions" exactly?" Handler's eyebrow rose as she asked the question.
"Well, erm… the tasks you personally assigned me last week…"
"These are entirely transferred onto agent Nightfall, effective immediately. You are not going anywhere else than your daughter's side until she's fully recovered! I should not even have to tell you this, since you're supposed to be her father."
"But I… the mission! I have to…"
"Agent Twilight, I give you the formal assignment of remaining by your daughter's side until she recovers! Do you not realise how crucial such an ordeal can be for Operation Strix?"
"I will do my best, Handler."
The meeting then went on for a while, before Twilight was finally released out of Sylvia's office after lengthily discussing Anya's result at school and Yor's improvements as a homemaker – pivotal points for the outcome of Operation Strix, after all!
"Goodness, sometimes I wonder if living with someone as dense as Twilight isn't an ordeal for his family…!" thought Handler with a smile, once he was gone. "Then again, if Anya does end up at the hospital… Nurse Sylvia is going to be there for her, just in case!" she added, thinking about the nurse outfit carefully stored in her wardrobe.
As it turned out, the anaesthetist agreed with the otolaryngologist that it would be best for Anya to undergo surgery, but the one who needed reassurance the most was Yor, whose face had turned paler and paler as the medical professional explained the surgery to them.
"This, and I cannot stress it enough, is really a straightforward surgery. There's no need to be upset, Mrs. Forger, you risk passing your bad emotions on to your daughter…!"
"I'm not upset!" lied Yor with a distraught look.
"Mama is in shambles right now!"
"It's just that… I'm a little worried, that's all…"
"That's a natural reaction. It's never easy seeing the flesh of our flesh going through surgical processes, I know it all too well! When my eldest son had his wisdom teeth pulled out, I did not sleep for nearly two days – and I am a doctor! But don't worry: you daughter will be in the country's very best hands! Not to mention that your husband is one of our most beloved colleagues: there is no way in Hell we'd let harm befall Dr. Forger's cherished daughter!"
And then, Anya's surgery was planned for the next week. They walked out with ordinances for more efficient medication, to help relieve the pain until the surgery, and the little cheered a little at the prospect of being able to return to school for a few days before going back to the hospital. As they left the hospital, someone ran to them from the other side of the street.
"Papa! It's you!" yelled Anya, picking up his thoughts before seeing him.
"I'm sorry I'm late", he said while catching his breath. "This last patient was especially talkative, you see…"
This time, he forgot not to kiss Yor. The conventions of being romantically involved were still settling in, but they were growing used to these by the day and each kiss felt more natural than the previous one – much to Anya's dismay, who did not expect her wish to backfire this hard.
"How about you, Anya?" he asked his daughter, picking her up in his arms.
"The doctor said I will have a thurgery. Next week."
"Are you afraid?"
She clenched her arms around his neck. "A little…"
"Worry not, dear. Mama and I are going to be there with you", he answered, rubbing her back with his hand.
"Anyways, it's still a week away!" added Yor. "You needn't think about it right now."
"Shall we head on home?" asked Loid. "I'm hungry, but my stomach isn't the only one I heard grumbling right now!"
Anya blushed, for she was hungry too.
"What should you like for lunch?"
"Rice omelette!" yelled Anya.
The following day, her throat was no longer swollen: the infection had healed. She ate three days' worth of breakfast after almost dragging her parents out of bed, overexcited at the idea of being back to school.
"Anya! Don't pet Bond when you're wearing your uniform, you'll get dog hair all over it!" distraughtly yelled Yor, when she saw her daughter literally cuddling with the dog in the living-room.
"But mama…"
"No buts, Anya! You're not the one spending literal hours endlessly plucking dog hairs out out of your uniforms!"
"But mama…" Anya's eyes started to water.
"Yor, do you really not want to try one of these lint rollers they sell at the supermarket?" ventured Loid, taking a long sip of milky coffee.
"I don't know about that, the tailor told me these things were bad for the fabric…"
"If she says so!" he smiled.
Anya's made quite an impression upon her return to school, for her absence had been much noted.
"Anya! You're alive!" yelled Becky when she saw her at the gates.
"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I…"
Her friend hugged her tight, blocking the words in her throat.
"I don't know… in Berlint in Love, when someone goes to the hospital, it's always so grievous!"
"It was just an appointment with a doctor…" retorted Anya with round, surprised eyes.
She began to explain it to her friend when other classmates came by.
"Look who it is!" ironically exclaimed a familiar voice.
"Don't start it, Ewen!" retorted Becky. "She's sick, she needs rest!"
"I'm no longer…" tried to say Anya.
"Guess Bossman's going to have a good day today…!" whispered Emile in his fellow's ear, with a cunning smile.
"Yeah, he really seemed down yesterday when he couldn't tease her!"
It was at this very moment that Damian decided to go see what was going on near the gates.
"Hey, everybody!" he shouted at them to catch their attention. "Bell's about to ring, you don't want to be late for Mr. Henderson's class!"
But no one paid attention to him, for they were all listening to Anya's slightly rearranged account of the events. Something fluttered inside of him when he laid eyes on her, and it felt like he was back to life after feeling downhearted since the previous day. He wanted to go ahead and say something nice to her, for once, but his courage fled him and his legs shook as he was about to speak. The bell rang at this moment and they all headed to the classrooms.
"Bossman, you're not paying attention to the class!" whispered Ewen. "If Mr. Henderson sees you gazing at the windows, you might get a tonitrus!"
"I won't get a tonitrus just because I'm not paying attention to the history class!" retorted Damian, unwillingly dragged out of his contemplation. "Besides, I'm not looking at the windows…" he added in a hushed voice, as if to appear innocent.
At this very moment, Anya turned back to him as if she had heard his whispers and planted her green eyes into his, forcing him to quickly look away, embarrassed.
"This is bad! I hope she won't think I was staring at her the whole time!"
"Why is syon-boy looking at me like I'm some sort of circus animal?"
"Guess Bossman wasn't looking at the windows, after all!" Emile whispered to Ewen without a cunning smile.
"Pay attention to class, everyone", sternly said Mr. Henderson while looking at Anya and Damian. "This subject is likely to be part of this term's examinations. I want you all to succeed, so please pay attention."
Days passed by, and the day of Anya's surgery approached. As the week went on, Loid's sleep decreased by the day and he barely slept at all the last two days before the surgery, despite Yor's continuous efforts to keep him reassured: he could not help but worry and spiral over every little detail. What if the surgery went wrong? What if something happened to Anya? What if…
Usually, Yor only had to put her hand on his chest to make the dreadful thoughts go away, but they always came back quite fast.
"Loid, I know it's perhaps weird to say that, but… you don't need to worry this much over such a simple surgery!"
It was rather bold, coming from someone who was on the verge of tears when the anaesthetist explained the procedure, but she wanted nothing more than soothe her husband's worries.
"I know, it's just that… I can't help but overthink it."
"You always overthink everything, Loid…"
"I do", he chuckled. "That's what being a psychiatrist does to someone, I guess!"
"You know, sometimes I wish you were more relaxed around us. You're always putting so much pressure on your own shoulders, and on Anya's to a lesser extent!"
He wanted to answer, but words failed to come out of his mouth.
"Loid, I'm serious. I don't want you to keep putting yourself under so much pressure. It's bad."
"I've always worked like that, Yor. I cannot not overthink everything… this is how I was made."
"Then I shall unmake you, because I don't want you dying of a stress-induced heart-attack… We're barely thirty, you'll have plenty of time to worry when we'll be older!"
"Yes, this is it. This is why I fell in love with this woman in the first place." Thought Loid, while his heart was starting to beat funny.
"Anyways, Anya seems peaceful despite being the one undergoing a surgery, and the doctor said something about strong emotions rubbing off on her…"
"He's right", Loid declared. "Anya's at peace despite knowing what lies ahead of her, but it could change if she sees us distraught and worried about it. Sometimes, I feel like she reads into us like open books!"
"Kids tend to be generally more perceptive to feelings, as opposed to adults. But something Anya is especially good at, is playing you like a fiddle!"
"That's true!" he admitted with a snort of laughter.
"Tomorrow's going to be a long day, we should go to sleep now. We'll need it."
"You're right."
But that night, even his wife's warm embrace was not enough for Loid Forger and sleep kept eluding him.
The next morning, he went out of bed craving for strong coffee. He slipped out of Yor's arms and went to check on Anya, who was still sleeping with Bond at her feet. Loid smiled nervously: in a few hours, his precious daughter would be in a surgery room. He tried not to think about it, went to the kitchen and ended up thinking a lot about it while coffee was slowly dripping in the coffee maker.
"Finally, strong coffee."
He smelt his cup and took a good, long sip, almost burning his mouth in the process. "It's really disgusting, but I'll need it today."
Reaching for biscuits in the closet, he then noticed Yor standing in the kitchen's doorway, eyes still half-closed: she obviously just got out of bed.
"Morning, Loid…" she muttered, rubbing her eyes.
"Morning, Yor!" he answered, feeling his blood rushing through his veins. "She has no idea how cute she is when she has just gotten out of bed…!"
She went to him and kissed him hello. All his sorrows flew away when he got to lay his hand on her lower back as she pressed against him, for a second or two.
"Is this black coffee that I smell?" she asked.
"Yes. I didn't sleep last night, I'll need it to stay awake."
"You know it's bad for your stomach, Loid. I don't want another Forger being hospitalized today!" she said on a tone half-disapproving, half-worried.
"I know, it's just that I feel like… I'll collapse on the floor if I don't have some."
Husband and wife then proceeded to make breakfast for them and for their precious daughter, who was about to wake up as they were making her the biggest bowl of hot cocoa.
"G'day, papa, mama…" said Anya as she walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep and nightcap tilted on her head.
"You're already up?" worried her father. "You could've remained in bed for a while longer, we would've woken you up!"
"You two were too noisy…" complained the little girl as she was taking place at the table.
Her parents exchanged an intrigued glance, as if to say "noisy? We did nothing more than speak at low voice and kiss!".
"How do you feel, today?" asked Loid, letting the psychiatrist take the lead. "I mean, your throat."
"It still feels kind of funny, but better. And the soorgery doesn't frighten me: I'm sure everything will be fine, papa; it's your hospital, after all!"
"It's not mine, actually, but I think people there do like you quite much. You made an impression when you accompanied me on your investigation trip for your school report!"
"That's because I'm your daughter and they like you in the first place! You're their favourite, are you not?"
"Well, sort of…!" admitted Loid with an awkward laugh.
He immediately picked up his wife's fiery glance, and assumed she was entertaining unfounded thoughts about he and Fiona. And – maybe for the first time – he correctly guessed: Yor was thinking of ways to get rid of her "rival" without disposing of her in the way her secret job meant to.
"Be more possessive! Show the world he belongs to you!" she remembered Camilla's words from their last bar outing, when she confessed her fears of being cheated on.
"But I can't just write on his forehead: "property of Yor Forger", can I?" she had answered.
"Display your closeness, show how intimate you two are! That's all I can say without risking you misinterpreting everything I say!" she was starting to make sense out of Camilla's words.
"Mama wants to fight with papa's scary co-worker? How exciting!" thought Anya, already depicting a wrestling match between the two women.
Sylvia went to the hospital using a different route than usual. The SSS had not loosened its surveillance around her, but she had no trouble shaking off the rookie officers assigned to tailing her. They were obviously short-staffed, too. She hurried up as she came close to the hospital, firmly holding her black suitcase as she was eyeing people coming in and out of the building.
"Hey, Ms. Nottingham! Long time no see!"
She was surprised, but showed no sign of it, and turned back to discover that she had been recognised by one of the other nurses, a kind-hearted middle-aged woman with whom she had sympathized during her last undercover operation as a nurse.
"Back from your sick leave?" asked the actual nurse, coming to salute her colleague.
"Back indeed, Ms. Ipswich. I don't know for how long, though…" Sylvia faked a cough.
"Well, anyways I'm glad to have you back on the team. We're so short-staffed these days, so having you with us is a god-send!"
"Understaffing is the new plague…!"
"Is your shift over?" wondered Sylvia.
"Yes, I work mornings this week. But there's no shortage of patients, so I couldn't leave on time…"
"Pity we're not working together, I'm on afternoon and evening shifts. Actually, I'm helping with surgeries today."
She was about to be reminded of Ms. Ipswich's only default: she was quite the gossip.
"Speaking of which! Do you know that Dr. Forger's daughter is undergoing surgery today?"
"Oh, is she? I didn't know it!" lied Ms. Nottingham.
"The girl is to have a tonsillectomy. She's already there with her parents, I saw them on my way out. God, I can't believe how beautiful Dr. Forger's wife is! Have you seen her?"
"I don't think I had the chance yet", lied Ms. Nottingham.
"Poor Dr. Frost is going to be heartbroken, as cute as she is, she's no match for that woman…"
"If that makes her grow out of her obsession, that's not a bad thing."
"Don't tell me you're still believing that nonsense about Dr. Frost being secretly in love with Dr. Forger?!"
"Nonsense? It's painfully obvious!" exclaimed Ms. Ipswich. "But it's true you're not quite the gossip…"
"I bow to you on that!" laughed Ms. Nottingham. "Well, I should take my leave, Ms. Ipswich, or I'm going to be late."
Despite being almost already late, Sylvia took her time changing into her nurse outfit: she had worn it only a couple times so far, but each time it felt like she was granting the wish of the little girl she once was, decades ago, before the wars.
"Time to shine, Ms. Nottingham!" she said to herself, as she confidently walked out of the nurses' changing room.
As it turned out, Anya bravely faced the ordeal. She remained quite cheerful during the preparation to the surgery, during which the nurses put electrodes on her skin for vitals monitoring. It stirred some unhappy memories from her time in the laboratory, but one of the nurses – which she immediately recognised as her "papa's boss-lady" – picked up her distress and appeased it by applying a couple electrodes on Chimera.
"See? No harm comes from that, it's only to help the doctor during your surgery!"
"When are papa and mama coming back?" asked Anya right away, still not completely reassured – although the sight of Chimera wearing the same electrodes as her lifted her spirits.
"They're in the office with the doctors, they are going to be back soon. They are making sure everything will be fine for you."
"I want mama."
"Don't worry, dear, she'll be here in a minute."
Ms. Nottingham then settled the little girl in her hospital bed, and wrote several things down on a report while Anya was distractedly looking by the windows on the left wall. Everything was quiet.
While Anya's parents were indeed in the doctor's office to talk with the surgeons, they were more focused on how they would make the doctors pay if anything were to happen to their cherished daughter, and it was Yor's imagination than ran the wildest as she depicted herself brutally murdering everyone in the building, spraying blood on the walls and bowels on the ground if anything bad happened – all the while awkwardly smiling at the surgeons who were trying to ease their minds. She brushed off the intrusive thoughts and tried to compose herself.
Loid, on the other hand, was calmer… but only in appearances. "I swear if anything happens to Anya, I'm personally dealing with their cases, even it its means going rogue."
"… and this is why I can assure you, with my colleague here Dr. Strauss, that everything is going to be just fine. But you know all of that already, don't you, Dr. Forger?"
"I'm sorry?" asked Loid, pulled out of his sordid daydream.
"Dr. Forger, we all know you chose to practise in our hospital because it's one of the very best in the country!" added Dr. Strauss with a smile.
"The best in the world, you meant!" replied the psychiatrist.
"Well, if everything is agreed on, shall we proceed?"
Loid and Yor stared at each other for a couple seconds, tightening their grip on each other's hand, and finally agreed. They then joined their daughter in her room, who was ready for the surgery. Loid threw a surprised glance at the nurse that looked suspiciously similar to Handler, and she smiled back at him as if to say "I said I was going to take care of this". Anya rejoiced at the sight of her parents, and Yor ran to her bedside and started brushing her hair with her hand.
"When this is over, will you make me hot chocolate?"
"I'll make you hot chocolate forever, Anya."
Loid looked at the scene with a warm smile, but something twitched in his stomach and he started feeling somewhat unwell, but kept quiet. His stomach-ache was back, and coffee was probably the culprit. But he bore through the pain and came to hug Anya for a long moment: the mere thought of her surgery felt to him like his heart was ripped out alive of his ribcage. His hand naturally found its way to Yor's on their daughter's back as the three of them were cuddling, which did not escape Ms. Nottingham's keen eyes who was looking at them while feigning to complete her report in a corner of the room.
"Agent Twilight is really taking his mission to heart, it seems…!" she ironically thought. "Maybe I should tell him to not get too involved with his fake family, and to maintain a professional distance."
Yor and Loid proceeded to kiss Anya on the cheeks at the same time, one from each side, and the little girl laughed in joy and ticklishness as she wrapped her arms around her parents' necks.
"Or maybe not. Not in a thousand years. They are everything for each other. I couldn't give my daughter the childhood she deserved, so Anya must have the best one imaginable."
Soon afterwards, other nurses and the surgeons came in for Anya: it was time for her surgery. Her parents kissed goodbye to her as she was accompanied to the surgical unit by the hospital staff, and remained alone in the room for a while before reality settled in.
"Anya will be back in a few hours", said Ms. Nottingham when she left. "You can wait for her here, or go grab a coffee and clear you mind. No need to show you around, Dr. Forger!"
But they were not in the mood for coffee. Loid intended to stay still until Anya would come back, but he only managed it for fifteen or so minutes and started to pace back and forth around the room while Yor was worriedly fidgeting over her purse. Someone then knocked at the door.
"Dr. Forger? Mrs. Forger?" asked the voice of Fiona Frost. "Are you here? I've come to check on you. Can I come in?"
"You can, Fiona…!" answered Loid, suddenly disgruntled by his stomach-ache. "That's nice of you."
Yor's eyes immediately narrowed as she laid them on Fiona's frame as she entered the room, with steps so light she could barely hear them.
"I just heard about your daughter's surgery", lied Fiona, "and I wanted to see how you were doing. Take this as a social call, I'm not here as a health professional."
"That's very kind of you, Ms. Frost", answered Yor who felt pride after managing to say it neither too sternly or too hypocritically. "I'm happy to see my husband having such thoughtful people for co-workers", she added, putting her hand over Loid's as he just sat down next to her.
Her sudden display of possessiveness did not go unnoticed to the eyes of both W.I.S.E. agents.
"How dare you lay your filthy hands on my precious Twilight?!"
"Is it me, or do I feel tension in this room?"
"Loid is mine and I'll see that she understands it!"
"Dr. Forger isn't as popular as your daughter, though. She made quite an impression when she came here for her investigation! Many nurses and doctors are keen to have news on her, whenever Dr. Forger comes back after work trips."
"This is weird. Fiona doesn't usually seem infatuated with Anya. Is she trying to get on Yor's good side?"
"In fact, he does talk about the two of you quite much", added Dr. Frost, who barely concealed how much it pained her to admit that.
"Now that's funny: he barely ever speaks about work when he's home!" retorted Yor.
"Yor! She's absolutely not your love rival – and never has been – so you don't have to be rude to her!"
He was about to change the subjects when pain rose in his stomach and took the words out of his mouth.
"Dr. Forger! Are you okay?"
"Loid dear, is it your stomach again?"
"It is, yes…" he painfully let out. "It's been aching all day, but it's really paining right now."
"I told you not to drink too much coffee!" scolded Yor. "Next time, you'll listen to me!"
"I will…"
"Let me get some medicine for you," proposed Fiona, already leaving the room. "The pharmacy is close by."
"That's very considerate of you, Dr. Frost…" said Yor, while searching for something in her purse. "… but that won't be necessary", she added, triumphally producing a packet of stomach medicine. "I always have a few with me, just in case!"
"How ridiculous!" thought Fiona. "This is essentially a cheap, glorified home-remedy sold by street pharmacies! Our hospital has access to the best medication in the world! She thinks she's going to heal him with…"
Loid thankfully grabbed the medicine, opened the package and swallowed it whole. It tasted weird and he never liked it in the first place, but its effect on his stomach-aches was incontestable and he felt immensely grateful towards his wife.
"You're such a life-saver, Yor, I don't know how I'd do without you", he said while kissing her on the cheek. "I'm already feeling better."
It was not the case of Fiona Frost, whose heart shattered like glass in her chest. A single tear ran down her cheek as she walked out of the room, pretexting she had forgotten about an important appointment, and she ran away as soon as she left their sight. Her defeat was complete and she could no longer come up with revenge plans against the toughest enemy she had ever faced so far: Yor Forger.
Anya jumped awake under an unknown ceiling, that soon turned out to be her hospital room's. She took a deep breath, as if she had not breathed since she fell asleep, and looked around her. Memories popped before her eyes, the doctors taking her to the surgical unit, Ms. Nottingham holding her hand all the way there, one of the other nurses putting a breathing mask over her nose and mouth, her heart running wild for a second at the remembrance of the labs scientist… then nothing. It seemed that the surgery had been performed and after a couple seconds spent gathering her thoughts, she realised her throat was no longer painful.
"Where are papa and mama?" she thought, noticing her room was empty.
Fear and distress started to overwhelm her, and she firmly held Chimera against her, burying her nose in his mane that smelt like home. The scent appeased her but it wasn't enough: she was alone. Or was she? Something moved in the corner of the room and caught her attention: her parents! She realised they were here all along, sitting on chairs in a dimly-lit corner of the room, asleep on each other's shoulders, hands tightly held. Her mother moved again and lifted her head, then opened her eyes wide upon noticing she was up.
"Loid! Wake up, Loid! Anya's awake!" she exclaimed, strongly nudging Loid, before running to the bed.
Anya was overwhelmed with joy as she basked in her mother's warm embrace, her nose tickled by strands of black hair that escaped her headband. She nearly cried of joy, but her mother's hand caressing her back soothed her worries away and she took a deep, long breath.
Loid woke up, unable to recall when he fell asleep in the first place, but came to his full senses as soon as he saw his wife kneeling next to their daughter's bed, hugging firmly the little girl.
"Mama, you're hurting me…" she said, as Yor's embrace was indeed getting a little too intense for her little body.
"I'm so sorry, Anya!" stuttered Yor, releasing the girl. "I'm so happy to see you!"
Loid sat on the bed next to his daughter, and gently ruffled through her hair with the proudest smile he ever sported. "I was told you were brave."
"But I didn't do anything…" Anya made her characteristic squint.
"Ms. Nottingham told us you didn't cry at all, unlike other children on the way to the surgical unit!"
"I was afraid, but I can't tell them that it's because I was reminded of the lab scientists from before…"
The three of them shared a hug.
"Where's Bond?"
"Pets aren't allowed in the hospital: he's with Franky."
"I want Bond."
"I'm sorry: you'll have to wait, darling. You're to come out of the hospital tomorrow in the morning."
"But I'm fine!"
"You are, but you need to rest after the surgery. You can't just go running around right after!"
"That's unfair…"
"There's no discussing it, Anya, and I say that both as a doctor and as your father."
Yor reached for a bag next to their chairs and took something out of it. "Don't worry, Anya: papa got us covered!" And she put on the bed a couple colouring book, as well as a bag of her favourite brand of peanuts.
"Papa didn't want you to have peanuts right after the surgery, but I made him change his mind!" Yor whispered to her daughter with a wink.
The girl threw a concerned gaze at her father, who was looking away, cheeks shaded with red. "Mama! What have you done? You haven't broken him, I hope!"
At this moment, someone knocked on the door. The surgeon and Ms. Nottingham came in, for it was time to check on Anya and give her parents recommendations.
"After a good night's sleep, she'll be back on her feet like nothing ever happened!" said the surgeon. "She'll be able to leave tomorrow morning."
"And she'll be back to school next week!" added Ms. Nottingham with a smile that did not go unnoticed to Loid's eyes: WISE expected results. "Speaking of which, there are a few visitors for Anya in the waiting room. Should I tell them to come up?"
"Visitors from school?" wondered the little girl.
"Becky, perhaps?" guessed her mother.
"Probably", added her father. "Or Damian Desmond, or so I hope."
"Tell them it's okay", said Yor.
The surgeon discussed with Loid for a moment while Ms. Nottingham was giving Yor another round of advice, and they eventually left the room. A couple moments later, someone knocked on the door again.
"Please come in!" said Loid.
And at everyone's surprise, the person standing behind the door was none other than Henry Henderson, looking as elegant as ever. But he was not alone.
"Anya! You're alive!" exclaimed Becky, bolting from behind Mr. Henderson's legs.
"Becky!"
"She's as lively as ever", commented Mr. Henderson while his pupils were celebrating their reunion.
"What brings you there, Mr. Henderson?" asked Loid while shaking hands with the teacher.
"Anya's absence has been widely discussed in class today. She made friends since the bus affair, you know, and her classmates were worried. I took upon myself to come check on her after class, but Ms. Blackbell here insisted to come with me."
"Are your parents aware you're here, Becky?" asked Yor.
But the little girl heard not, too busy telling Anya what had happened in her absence.
"She's with her chauffeur, no need to worry."
"That's very considerate of you, Mr. Henderson."
"That was merely the elegant thing to do, Mr. Forger. And if we are to teach these kids elegance, do we not have to show them the way?"
"We do, Mr. Henderson. We do."
"Anyways, Ms. Forger!" resumed the teacher, his monocle shining aggressively. "Being sick doesn't equate being freed from homework!"
He produced from his briefcase a file that Anya worriedly looked at. "A week's worth homework, since I understand you're not to come back before next week. I expect these on my desktop by Monday morning. As to the lessons you missed, Ms. Becky here will be pleased to share her notes with you."
Anya frantically looked at everyone in the room. Homework? So much of it! And due in less than a week!
"Mama… I'm feeling unwell…" she theatrically said, laying back on her pillow and trying to look feverish.
Yor obviously fell for it and started to panic as her daughter was feigning to faint.
"Loid! Call the nurses! She's sick!"
"She's not, Yor. She's fooling you. She's not sick at all. It's all to avoid homework."
"Pretending to be sick so as to dodge your homework is not elegant at all, Ms. Forger", Mr. Henderson sternly declared. "Don't make me give you extra homework!"
"Oh! It passed, I'm feeling better now!" Anya said with the guiltiest look ever.