"Doesn't it seem too personal a gift for a stranger to give a kid after one meeting?" Sharon mused, puffing on her usual cigarette.

"He-he's not a stranger," Yor defended, "Loid said he was a university friend who recently moved back from another country!"

"An old university friend," Camilla drawled, "Who is close enough with your husband to keep up to date with his daughter's favorite things, but who has never been brought up in conversation between you two before? Isn't it normal for people to know their spouse's friends…?"

The jab of 'normal' made Yor go warm, and her voice came out weaker than she expected, "Loid probably mentioned it in a letter or over the telephone. It's not that odd!"

This is not how she had hoped this conversation would go when the girls had asked her how her evening had gone and she mentioned the sweet gift Anya had received from Loid's friend. All she wanted to talk about was how nice it had been, this morning, to see her excitement at unwrapping the box and seeing what was inside! But somehow, it had turned into them calling Loid's poor friend a creep when he had done nothing wrong, as far as she could see!

"How long was he out of the country?" Millie asked innocently.

Camilla let out a theatrical gasp, "It wasn't Westalis, was it? Maybe he's turned traitor, become a spy, and is trying to re-infiltrate the country by ingratiating himself with your husband!"

"'Ingratiate'? When did you learn such a big word?" Sharon teased. Camilla went red.

"Why, you-!"

"Either way, I think it's really sweet," Millie cut in. She turned back to Yor, "Was it for Anya's birthday?"

Yor paused at that. She was pretty sure Anya's birthday was at the end of summer – Loid had mentioned that she'd turned six shortly before they'd all met at the tailor's shop. That wasn't the kind of thing she would forget…right? So, it couldn't have been for her birthday. But Yuri brought her nice gifts every time he saw her, even when it wasn't even close to her birthday! Was it really that unusual for people to give non-birthday gifts to family or friends? How was this any different than bringing back gifts for friends after a long trip?

"Or maybe he's not a spy." Sharon said, bringing Yor out of her thoughts, "Maybe he's a long lost relative."

Yor frowned, "I'm pretty sure Loid said he was just a friend."

"Maybe he's the girl's real father trying to get her back, and that's what the gift was for!" Camilla countered, a conspiratorial lilt in her tone, "I saw something like that happen on an early season of Berlint in Love!"

Millie laughed, "That would be crazy!"

Yor's mouth dropped open, aghast. Were they suggesting that Loid kidnapped Anya from his friend? That was ridiculous! Loid was such a kind man who very clearly cared about the girl, and she clearly cared about him too! If Anya had been kidnapped, wouldn't she be trying to get back to her real parents? Wouldn't Loid's friend have been negligent, if he hadn't reported Loid to the police for kidnapping after all this time? What did it say about her, living under the same roof as a child kidnapper and not having done anything about it? Oh, if Loid was really a bad man, she would have to kill him!

"Maybe you should ask him," Camilla directed a chuckle towards Yor, "If he really loved you, he would tell you the truth."

Yor clenched her fist and prepared to defend Loid when the door to the break room slammed open to reveal their section chief with a stormy expression on his face, "Girls! Your break ended five minutes ago! Get back to work!"

"Yes, sir!" All four of them said in unison, out of the room and towards their desks.

But as Yor adjusted her skirt and sat before her assigned typewriter, a memory washed over her like a bucket of ice water – Anya, sobbing into her chest, pale and shaking…And what she had said, in that moment of weakness…

Yor frowned as her own lips formed the same syllables, pieces coming together to form a scary picture in her mind.

"Old-Papa ruined everything."

"Is Anya really your daughter?"

A dozen questions passed through Agent Twilight's mind as soon as he registered her question.

'What did she just say? What does she know? How did she come to this conclusion? This can't be a coincidence, after what I learned about Anya just yesterday! Did someone tell her; is someone trying to destroy the Forgers? The story I came up with ages ago is that my wife had difficulties conceiving so we adopted. But is she asking this now because she would have a problem with Anya's status? Did I miscalculate when I concluded that she would never abandon Anya? Would it be safer to play dumb? The good thing is that she normally doesn't ask too many questions; I haven't had to give her much information about our 'past' that she can refute if I make something up now. How will she react if I tell her 'no'? How will she react if I tell her 'yes'? It would be easier to give a watertight answer if I knew her logic path...'

In the end, it took two seconds to come up with the beginning of a response.

"I'm…sorry?"

Yor's hands, still clasped around her book, clenched. "I'm really sorry if I've offended you. Just forget it…"

"No, no," Loid said, leaning forward, "What on earth gave you that idea…about Anya?"

The hard cover of the book was creaking under her strength. Yor's knuckles were turning white. Loid was hit with the urge to grab her hands to soothe her, but he was afraid she'd lash out if he tried to touch her, wound up as she was, "It's silly…"

"I don't think it is," Loid coaxed. It was imperative that this was nipped in the bud now. He couldn't let her leave the room still stewing on whatever it was that brought her to this dangerous conclusion, "I told you to let me know if you had any concerns and that I wouldn't judge you for them. You just…surprised me since the question came out of nowhere."

She took another deep breath, "I…well I was talking with the girls at work and told them how nice it was to see Anya so happy with such a thoughtful gift," she nodded to the toy pistol and comic on the table between them, "I wasn't trying to be weird about it, or anything! They just asked how my evening had gone as usual and I didn't want to talk about how she'd gotten upset yesterday so I just focused on the good things, you know?" then her gaze dropped as if she was ashamed, "And they…they said things about your friend. They said it was strange for someone to know Anya so well to give her toys when it wasn't her birthday, but to have never been mentioned as a good friend of yours and then they said…I thought…"

She trailed off, glancing back up at Loid to gauge his reaction to what she had said so far. He kept his expression placid, but he had to admit he was relieved.

He had no idea how she had left a conversation like that with the thought that Anya may not be his daughter, but dispelling the foundation of her worry should be easy enough. Loid had observed enough of her colleagues – up close, and from afar –to know that they were particularly gossipy women. They weren't being serious, he could say. They were just joking around and Yor shouldn't take their words to heart. They were the odd ones, he could add, to think that his friend giving a gift to Anya was odd. Of course, Peter Roche knew what Anya liked, he could spin things, he had never met her in person before, but they had talked about her over the phone manytimes, like long-distance friends would do. It was perfectly natural…

Yor's voice cut through, shakier than before, "We're partners, right?"

"…Yes?"

A pause. Yor unclenched her hands and placed the book down beside her. She casually picked up what he assumed was her bookmark – a short, thin stiletto not unlike her favorite earrings or a letter opener – and began fiddling with it. Then, "You said you would tell me if something was wrong."

"Yes."

Here it comes…

"Why did Anya refer to your friend as 'old-Papa'?" her grip on the bookmark tightened, and Loid suddenly thought that it looked too much like a weapon, in her hands, "Did you kidnap her from him?"

…What?

"No!" Loid said immediately, not liking where this conversation was turning. Her mind had jumped to kidnapping? Was that really what her wild imagination had produced? It was a good thing she hadn't gone to the secret police with this before talking to him, if that's where her train of thought had led her, but still, "Why on earth –? Yor, where is this coming from?!"

"He didn't!"

Loid whipped his head towards the new voice. Anya. She was clutching Bond's fur tightly, standing beside him with a pinched expression. How much of their conversation had she heard?

"Anya!" Yor said in surprise.

"Mama, please don't hurt Papa."

Loid turned back to see Yor drop the bookmark onto the couch as if it had burned her. Wariness poked at the back of his thoughts, as he considered that Anya must have read her mind. Had she really been planning to hurt him if her suspicions had been confirmed? Or did she just think that he would attack her and was preparing to defend herself?

"I…I wasn't..." Yor stammered, glancing between Anya and Loid.

"Papa didn't steal Anya!" the little girl said, letting go of the dog and throwing herself into Yor's arms, "Please, Mama, I promise!"

Yor hugged Anya tightly, "Anya, you've been so upset since the Fair and Loid said it was because you were reminded of your mother but then you said 'old-Papa ruined everything'…" she said quietly, "I began to think…"

Anya shook her head, "If Papa was mean like that, Anya would have just run away to the police."

Yor seemed to consider it. Loid let go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Who is old-Papa, then? What did he ruin?"

Anya froze for a second, "…I was talking about Papa. I call him 'old-Papa' when I'm mad because…because he's grumpy, like an old man."

'Hey!' Loid bristled mentally. But he guessed it was as good an excuse as any. There was no plausible excuse for Anya to be referring to Mr. Roche as any kind of father figure when Loid had already told Yor that he'd been out of the country for her whole life. Although it seemed like Yor had forgotten that tidbit, anyway, given her kidnapping angle.

Unless she had really come to think he had been lying about that which…wasn't good. She believed his lies and excuses because he made sure he came across as impeccably trustworthy. If she began to consider that he would lie to her, doing so in the future would be more difficult.

"Why did you say Loid would give you away?"

"An-Anya was afraid that…that Papa would, because he seemed so mad at me. Before. And when he didn't want to have dinner with us."

The girl was stuttering and the look in her eyes was too manic. If Loid could tell she was lying right now, could Yor?

"Yor," Loid said tentatively to redirect her attention, "Were your colleagues the ones who suggested that Anya may have been kidnapped?"

Yor shrugged, avoiding his gaze. He gave her a reassuring smile, "I don't know why, but I think they were probably joking. You didn't have to believe it."

That may have been the wrong thing to say because Yor's eyes immediately filled with tears She began stroking Anya's hair in what Loid immediately recognized as a self-soothing gesture, "You're right. Everyone says I'm so naïve, but I think I may just be stupid. I could have thought things through before believing them and accusing you of something so ridiculous, but I realized that I don't know as much about you both because I never ask, and I started thinking scary things and I…I…"

"Mama!" Anya whined.

Loid cursed himself internally, "You're not stupid at all!"

That ever-traitorous thought crossed his mind again:

'You could tell her the truth…'

In a split second, Anya had turned to look at Loid, scared, but then her look morphed into a glare. He winced, realizing that she heard him. What did she think he was going to say? He mentally apologized to her before…

"But, if it makes you feel better, you were close. Anya is adopted."

Anya's glare lost its intensity, but he forced himself to focus on Yor. Her hand in Anya's hair had stopped moving.

"Adopted," she repeated. It wasn't a question.

"Yes. Her mother and I adopted her, as a baby, from a nearby orphanage. She is my daughter in every way that is important, so I never thought to tell you."

Yor remained contemplative, "And you're telling me now."

Loid nodded, "I can imagine that not telling you much about our life before you can make you come to some…strange conclusions on your own. That was entirely my fault, for not recognizing that. I apologize."

Yor looked at him for a long moment before turning her attention to Anya, who had stopped glaring at him completely, "Did you know?"

Anya nodded, "Yes. Sorry Mama, for not telling you before. Anya thought you wouldn't like her as much, if you knew."

"Oh, Anya," Yor wrapped her arms around the girl again, "I could never think less of you for being adopted! You're too precious to me!"

Anya beamed, and Loid couldn't help the warmth that spread through his chest at the sight.

"Can we have dinner? Anya's hungry." Anya said.

Loid welcomed the change of subject, "I can get it ready if you wait about a half hour."

"Yay!" the girl cheered. She wriggled out of Yor's lap and rushed back to her room.

Loid sighed and got up. A major crisis had just been averted, but he was walking away with another massive headache. He had no idea what made Anya leave her room at the perfect moment to intervene, and she could have easily made things worse, but he had to admit she was decent at improvising. Hopefully, Yor would be placated enough not to make any rash decisions or jump to any more conclusions. As he turned towards the kitchen, he felt the woman in question grab his wrist.

He turned to see that the thoughtful look on her face had returned, "Yor?"

"Why did you really tell me that Anya was adopted? Was it really to just make me feel better? Because you didn't have to reveal something so personal –"

"I wanted to," Loid blurted. Yor blinked in surprise, and he felt the tips of his ears warm.

Where did that come from?

"It was an offering. I meant what I said about not meaning to," he forced himself to continue, "You are a part of this family. I…I didn't want you to feel like we were keeping secrets from you."

'Oh, the irony!' Twilight sneered in the back of his mind, 'Now, if she finds out the full truth, she'll have a real reason to want to stab you with that bookmark of hers!'

'So, there was nothing suspicious going on with Loid's friend,' Yor thought as she watched Loid organize the cooking utensils that he was going to use to make their dinner, 'I really was just being silly. He's just a nice man that wanted to make Anya happy! I'm sure I saw his name on the business card that Loid got from him on the weekend– Peter Roche, was it? Maybe, I should get to know him better if he's such a good friend! After all, its normal to know your spouse's friends…'

Halfway through dinner, the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Loid said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Anya watched him get up, scrutiny on her tiny face. They were still supposed to talk after dinner, just the two of them, so he could learn more about her mind-reading. He was eager to gain as much information from her as possible, but if this was an emergency from WISE and he was being called out, they'd have to postpone their discussion. What a pain.

"Is this Dr. Forger," Fiona's voice rang through the receiver as soon as he picked up the phone.

"Speaking…"

"We have a patient emergency. Case 1387 is having issues and we have to take them through another department."

"Right," his eyes narrowed. A case in the 13-series meant 'emergency'. He would have to rendezvous with her immediately, but not at the hospital, "Which department?"

Fiona gave a name, with the real address for their meet-up location encoded in her parting words, then hung up.

"Loid?"

He turned back to Anya and Yor who were waiting for him. He gave them both a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I have to make an emergency house call. I'll be back in a few hours."

Yor nodded, but Anya pursed her lips. She had definitely been listening to the call. 'Could she only hear my own thoughts,' he briefly wondered, 'Or could she also technically hear what Fiona was saying since my brain had to register her speech in real time? Does that count as thinking too?'

"I'll probably be back in time to tuck you in, Anya," he said aloud, "We'll have to study together another day."

Anya's annoyed expression didn't lift, but she nodded.

Since Loid hadn't changed out of his day clothes, all he needed to do was put on his coat. This was a short meeting. He had his pistol in the inside pocket, but he doubted he would need to use it. Fiona had been tailing Mr. Roche tonight, so she must have noted something important. Why it couldn't wait until the morning, he didn't know, but Fiona wouldn't make an emergency call frivolously.

He said goodbye to Anya and Yor and headed out as quickly as he could.

It would be dangerous for both him and Fiona to be seen one-on-one in a public place after dark, with rumors of infidelity flying easily from people's tongues these days, so the meeting place was a random bus stop a few blocks away from Berlint General Hospital. Loid approached in his car, saw Fiona already waiting for him, purposefully drove past her, and parked the car a few meters down and across the street. As soon as the engine stopped rumbling, he pulled some papers out of the glove box and turned on a portable, short-wave, two-way radio that was hidden in the floor by his feet. This way, if any police or SSS officers were patrolling at this time at night and saw him in his car, he could claim he was finishing some last-minute work before heading home.

He put the radio's receiver in his ear and waited for the machine to crackle to life on her end.

"Roche has two tails."

Twilight's eyes narrowed at the papers in his lap. Roche was being tailed? Franky had noted that surveillance on the family had stopped months ago – why was it picking up again? Was it a coincidence that it was picking up right after he met up with the man?

"Explain."

"Two men, both tall and of average build. Both blond, with short-cropped hair. One had a scar through his left eyebrow. They were relatively skilled in being covert, but not enough to notice me. They followed him from the moment he stepped out of his workplace, made a note of everyone he spoke to casually, but did not confront him directly. They mostly spoke to each other."

"And Roche."

"He didn't notice them. After work, he went to a nearby pub and drank with who I was able to discern were some colleagues. Three men. I've memorized their faces and will do further research on them when I go to HQ. After half an hour of casual conversation about current and future advertisement projects, Roche left, got in his car, and headed to a bakery. He picked out two apple tarts, spoke with the cashier for a moment, and then got back in his car. The rest of his journey home was uninterrupted. The finer details of my report will be on your desk in the morning."

He sighed. So, Roche's day seemed to be as normal as any, save for his two stalkers…

"Were you able to get close enough to learn what his tails wanted, or knew?"

There was a pause. A second, really, but much too long for Fiona's usual behavior, "They mentioned the Forger girl."

Twilight's frown deepened, "What?"

"They were looking for a way to learn about where she was from Roche. One of them asked the other why she wasn't dead."

It was as he had feared. Someone was after Anya. And that someone had somehow heard that Anya survived the fire. Did they have a bug, or an eavesdropper, in Venge, and he hadn't noticed?

"Handler contacted me earlier today and suggested that she was the real target of the Roche arson last year."

Another uncharacteristic pause, "The Forger girl's safety is paramount. For Operation STRIX."

"Yes." Twilight agreed grimly.

"Does Roche know anything."

"No," he said, before he realized something. He mentally smacked himself, "I told him that she's an Eden student."

"The school is well guarded, but what about after and before school?"

"I'll make sure nothing happens to her."

That was a guarantee. That girl was not getting hurt under his watch.

"He also knows your alias. They'll have no luck confronting you directly, but we'll need to further classify your employee file at the hospital in case they try to track her down that way."

"Keep tailing Mr. Roche and his family, learn what you can about the men, or any other tails Roche attracts, and steer them away from any direct confrontation if you can do so discretely." The Roche family was already being dragged back into dangerous territory for something that was Twilight's fault. The least he could do was keep them from getting hurt.

"Roger that," Fiona said crisply, "Should we try to apprehend the men once enough information is gathered or if they become violent? They may be involved with whoever wanted the girl dead in the first place."

"Please."

Twilight knew that that was really the kind of call that only Handler could make, but she had already trusted him on this. He was not going to make any more mistakes or underestimate this mystery threat, for Operation STRIX, and for the Forgers who were at home, waiting for him.

He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Wow, forget the reveal in chapter 7 - THIS chapter was the hardest to write while keeping everyone in character and not making things sound stupid. Of course Yor's colleagues would come up with ridiculous conspiracies - these are the same women who love drama and, amongst themselves and with no prompting, once gossiped that Yor could be a spy sent to lower the Ostanian birth rate just because she was single! And of course Yor believes them and extrapolates the worst case scenario from their words because, well, we've seen her catastrophize before. But it was still hard to write a believable way for her to both jump on that train of thought, and for Loid and Anya to pull her off it again. I feel bad about making her stay in the dark for now, but her takeaway from the conversation at home will have consequences...

And, yes, Anya's involvement was Bond's doing. But she didn't see his vision; we've only witnessed her see Bond's visions while he's having them, not after he's already had them. He just pulled on her sleeve until she got the hint.

Who wants to help Loid dig his own grave! He brought the shovel and everything! But seriously, he really didn't need to tell Yor that Anya was adopted. He could have left things at 'your colleagues were joking, of course Anya's my daughter' but noooo. His growing sentiment had him opening his big fat mouth and put him at greater risk of catching her ire in the future for trickle-truthing.

And now Loid and Fiona are properly investigating the people behind the attempt on Anya's life. What do you think they will find?