The Tales of Aveline

by Masikka

Megan kept a secret from her brother for most of her life. While going through Megan's things after her death, Sylvester uncovers what she worked so hard to keep hidden. What he learns turns Walter's world upside down and Megan is no longer here to explain her reasons for her deception. Can Walter find a way to forgive her? (Part of the Weird and Wonderful universe)

2. Chapter 2

2030, 14 years later

Sylvester lay in his bed, watching the morning sun's rays dance on the carpet for a few moments before rising. He had known as soon as he had awoken this morning that today was the day. He had felt it coming for a while now, but he hadn't been certain when the day would arrive until today. It was definitely today.

He thought back to the night Walter had given him the key to Megan's storage unit. He hadn't been ready then. He had shoved the key hurriedly into his lower desk drawer, pushing it to the back, determined not to touch it or think of it again. The very idea of going through Megan's things terrified him, but Walter was right, it was his responsibility and he took that seriously. But he hadn't been ready at the time, and soon enough he had pushed it from his thoughts. The appearance of Tim Armstrong and the chaos that he had thrown the team into had driven most other considerations out of everyone's minds.

It hadn't been until some time after Tim left Scorpion that Sylvester had even thought about the key again. By then the sight of it didn't feel quite so overwhelming and Sylvester's apartment had become a place of memories of Megan, not just a place to grieve for her. Sylvester had taken the key home and hung it on a hook on the wall near the front door. They hadn't gone many places, hadn't explored the world together the way that Megan had dreamed of doing, so he didn't have many tangible reminders of her. That's what the key had become and it was precious to him.

It was a gorgeous September day, and after getting dressed and eating breakfast, Sylvester pocketed the key on his way out of the apartment. He still didn't quite have a plan, other than knowing today was the day. He had only walked a few feet toward the bus stop when a familiar car pulled up beside him. Sylvester looked up and saw Paige smiling at him, his twelve-year-old niece, Megan, in the process of climbing from the front seat to the back. Paige rolled down the window and removed her sunglasses as she spoke. "Megan is volunteering at the animal shelter today and we realized that it's just a couple of blocks from your apartment. She feels sorry for me that I don't have more going on in my life today than chauffeuring her around town and she's hoping that I can insert myself into whatever you have planned for today."

Sylvester chuckled as Megan made a face at her mom. "I didn't say it like that. I said it much more diplomatically."

"Still, that's what you meant." Paige reached across the passenger seat and pulled the door latch open for Sylvester. "Hop in, Sly. I won't invite myself along on your plans, but at least I can give you a ride wherever you're going after we drop off Megan."

Sylvester blanched, he hadn't expected to have company going through Megan's belongings, but maybe his sweet guardian angel wife had sent someone to help him through the day. "Sure, why not?" Sylvester climbed into the car and shut the door behind him. As he buckled his seatbelt, he turned to his niece. "Volunteering at the animal shelter, Meg? This wouldn't be some kind of plan to convince your father that you are responsible enough for a pet, would it?"

Megan blushed and suddenly found the zipper pull on her jacket extremely interesting. "I plead the fifth on the grounds that anything I say might incriminate me, Syl."

Paige smiled at the special nicknames between 'Meg' and 'Syl'. No one else was allowed to use the distinctive names they shared only with each other.

Paige met Megan's eyes in the rearview mirror as she pulled out into traffic. "Do we have time to take Uncle Sly for breakfast before your shift starts?"

Megan shook her head. "No, Mom, we're already five minutes late. Can't you drive any faster?"

"Uh, have you seen LA traffic? We'll be there in a minute or two, you'll be fine," she turned to Sylvester as Megan huffed and rolled her eyes. "Sly, the two of us can do breakfast after I drop this one off if you're not too busy."

Sylvester hesitated to look over at Paige, he worried that she would see how nervous he was. "No, I'm fine. I had breakfast at home."

Paige shrugged as she pulled into the animal shelter parking lot. "We're here, milady. Only seven minutes late."

"Thanks, Mom!" Megan jumped out of the car, barely pausing to slam the car door behind her before running toward the shelter's entrance.

"Dad will be here when your shift is over this evening to pick you up for the Scorpion family dinner at Cabe and Allie's. Have fun! " she called after her rapidly disappearing daughter. "I love you!"

Paige turned her attention to Sylvester. "So, where to?"

Sylvester turned beet red and pushed his glasses up his nose from where the sweat that was starting to run down his temples had made them slip.

Paige noticed Sylvester's discomfort for the first time. She pulled into a vacant parking space at the back of the lot and turned off the car's engine. "Sly," she put a gentle hand on his arm, "Are you okay? Is there something I can help you with? What's going on?"

Sylvester took a deep breath and looked up at Paige. "Today is the day that I am cleaning out Megan's things from her storage unit. No one else knows that today is the day. I had thought that I would be doing it alone, but if you are so inclined, I think that I would appreciate it very much if you would come with me and help me go through her belongings. Would you be willing to give up your day and help? If there's anything that Scorpion has taught me over the years, it's that it's always better when we work together."

Paige gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, tears pricking at her eyelids. "If you are sure that's what you want, Sylvester, I would be honored to help." Paige started the car again as he gave her the address of the storage unit.

---

Sylvester stood with Paige in front of the locked door to Megan's storage unit, holding the key in his trembling hand. Suddenly he felt not at all prepared, completely unsure. His grief at Megan's passing had never diminished. The pain he felt was as all-encompassing and aching as it had always been, but somehow as the days and eventually weeks and years had passed, he had become stronger, strong enough to bear the pain and to hold the joy of knowing and loving Megan at the same time.

Sylvester knew that was what his wife had always wanted for him, to grow, to become more of himself. He knew that she would be proud of him and he wanted her to be proud of him now. He knew exactly what she would say if she were here, standing next to him. 'The only thing you'll find on the other side of the door is stuff, things. This stuff is just a reminder of the love and the memories. So feel the love, feel the grief and then keep going. You won't drown, you won't be overwhelmed. You are capable of so much more than you know. You have a strength and a courage that you don't always see. I see it, and I want very much for you to see it within yourself.'

Sylvester took a deep breath and with hands no longer shaking, he slid the key with the Lamborghini logo keychain into the lock on the door and pushed the door open slowly, stepping into the dark space beyond. Paige followed close behind and clicked on the overhead light. Sylvester blinked for a moment against the brightness as his eyes took in the piles of boxes and furniture, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and a deep desire to run. He was grateful that Walter had paid for a rather spacious area for Megan's things. The extra room would give them a greater ability to go through her belongings and find what he wanted to keep.

"Steady, now. I'm here. You're not doing this alone."

Sylvester nodded and gulped. "I can do this. Megan would believe that I can. She always saw the best in me." He picked at a brightly colored cushion on the sofa. He thought of how in the not-too-distant past he wouldn't have even been able to touch Megan's dusty old belongings without needing to douse himself in sanitizer and felt a burst of pride, with prodding from Paige and Meg, that he had gone to see Cecil for therapy and eventually found a helpful psychiatrist who had helped him find the right medication to put many of the issues that had plagued him for so much of his life behind him. He had grown as a person, just as Megan had always believed that he could, and now he was here, today, ready to go through these unsanitary and unknown boxes. "Being here, surrounded by her things, it makes me feel as if she is here with me now."

Paige squeezed Sylvester's hand. "I believe that you are right." She pulled an elastic band out of her purse before setting it on the floor next to the door, then she swiftly pulled her long hair back into a ponytail. "Are you ready?" Sylvester nodded. "Then, let's do this." Paige exclaimed as she pulled open a box on top of a nearby pile.

Sylvester ran a few quick calculations in his head based on the size of the unit and the approximate volume of common household items. He knew that Walter would have strictly instructed the movers both in their process of packing Megan's things as well as the arrangement of the boxes and other large items in the finite space. The larger, bulkier items in the front for easy removal, then boxes of housewares and other practical items. The smaller boxes with Megan's more personal items would be at the back, well-labeled.

Sylvester and Paige took a quick inventory of the furniture. "I'd like to donate all of the furniture and various appliances and household goods to the West Altadenia Women's Shelter. I don't need any of this, but I'd like for it to go to good use. Unless there's something here that you would like to take home or save for Meg." Sylvester suggested.

Paige shook her head. "No, I'm trying to get rid of stuff in my house, not add more to it. But thank you for the kind offer. I think donating these items to the women's shelter is a fine way to honor Megan and I have no doubt she would approve. As for looking for furnishings for Megan's future first apartment, I have no doubt that her taste would run to something much more expensive and that her father would happily purchase for her. It has been twelve years since that girl looked into her father's eyes for the first time and bewitched him and he is still completely and utterly under her spell." Sylvester and Paige both chuckled at the truth of that statement. Walter O'Brien had more than met his match in his daughter.

Paige made notes of all the pieces of furniture on one of her daughter's half-used notebooks that she had located in the back of the car, creating an inventory for the shelter volunteers to consult when they picked up Sylvester's donations. They pushed the bulky items aside as they pressed forward further into the unit and started assessing boxes full of housewares. They discovered Megan's blender and waffle iron, an old shower curtain and a box full of bath towels. They swiftly pushed boxes full of the mundane requirements of modern life aside as well, intending to include them with the donations.

"All of the items in these boxes are functional, with no sentimental value, perfect for the shelter." Paige remarked.

Sylvester agreed. "Even though every item is utilitarian, you can see Megan's personality in her choice of every item she purchased for her and Walter's home in LA, from plates and silverware to her laundry baskets. Every aspect of her life was about joy and appreciating every day."

Sylvester began re-stacking the boxes and Paige made notes of the contents on her inventory sheet, before moving on to the next section of Megan's belongings. Paige opened the first box and discovered Megan's book collection. Paige and Sylvester enjoyed a bit of a diversion for a few minutes, pulling out various titles and wondering what Megan might have thought of one book or another. Sylvester was a bit embarrassed when he discovered a number of historical romance novels, which Paige swiftly returned to their box and closed the lid. Both Paige and Sylvester agreed that most of the books weren't worth keeping and would be better served by donating to the lending library at the women's shelter. Paige did tuck a few titles into one of the smaller boxes, books from Megan's teen years in Ireland that she thought her daughter might enjoy and spark a connection between her and the namesake aunt she never met.

Sylvester and Paige had almost finished going through Megan's possessions. There were only a few more stacks of boxes, but both knew that this was where the true treasures lay. These last few boxes were Megan's most personal, most prized possessions.

Paige opened a box that contained an enormous brightly colored blanket, crocheted with the softest yarn she had ever touched. She held one corner of it up to show Sylvester. He smiled. "That was the blanket Megan made when she taught herself to crochet by watching YouTube videos shortly after her prognosis took a turn for the worse. Megan told me about that blanket, how when she slept under it, it felt like a hug and a smile."

"Oh, Sly…" Paige reached out to comfort her brother-in-law.

Sylvester brushed her off. "The pain of her loss is with me every day of my life, but for today, I am choosing not to feel it while I do this. Please don't stop. I just want to keep going, to finish this, for her."

"Of course," Paige apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive." Paige began to fold the blanket again and place it carefully back into the box. "Do you want to keep this?"

Sylvester ran his finger over the softness of the yarn, considering for a moment. "No, I don't think so. Would you like to take it and give it to Meg?"

"I think Megan would absolutely love it. I will make sure she knows its importance in her aunt's history." Paige put it aside as she and Sylvester continued looking through the boxes.

The morning continued to slip by quickly as Paige and Sylvester uncovered Megan's treasure trove of beloved mementos from her short life. Sylvester surprised himself as they sorted through the stacks of boxes, he knew almost exactly what they would find. Megan had described many of her most sentimental items to him at one time or another. Sylvester cried out with joy when he discovered the boxes that held her photo albums and scrapbooks. Megan had been a methodical memory keeper. Every photo, ticket stub, and invitation was meticulously preserved and labeled. Sylvester lugged those boxes into a pile to take home and sort through at a later date.

The next box that Paige opened had a number of framed photos. "Those must have been up on the walls in the apartment." she remarked.

For the next few minutes, the pair exclaimed over photo after photo. A young Sean and Louise on their wedding day. Megan and Walter at LAX right after they landed on American soil after the flight from Ireland, looking so optimistic, young, and excited. A photo of the family farmhouse in Callan, that Walter and Megan's great-grandfather, Patrick O'Brien had built. A photo of a serious-looking Walter on his twelfth birthday. A much younger Megan than Sylvester or Paige had ever known, on a SoCal beach, splashing in the waves, a smile that positively glowed gracing her beautiful features. A family photo of young Megan standing next to a smiling Sean and Louise, an elderly woman holding a serious-eyed Walter's hand as the pair stood just a bit apart, Walter looking barely old enough to even stand on his own.

"I believe that was Walter and Megan's great-grandmother, Aveline. Their 'Granny'. She lived with them until she died." Sylvester told Paige, gesturing to the old woman. Paige shifted the old frame to place it back in the box. Without warning, the small nails holding the corners of the frame together came loose, leaving Paige holding the pieces. The glass slipped through her fingers, only saved from shattering on the concrete floor by Sylvester's quick reflexes. Without the glass holding the photo to the frame backing, they both saw a second photo that had been hidden behind the family portrait. Paige and Sylvester put the broken frame pieces aside to inspect the newly discovered photo. It appeared to be taken several weeks earlier, a smiling young Walter being held by Aveline, who gazed at the baby in her arms with such love in her eyes, it moved both Sylvester and Paige to tears.

"I wonder who hid this photo." Sylvester mused.

"The most logical choice would be Megan."

"But why?" Sylvester asked, "What reason could she possibly have had?"

"Something tells me there's more to this story." Paige briefly wondered if this part of the past might be better left alone. Walter had never been particularly interested in dwelling on the past. But it wasn't just his story, was it? It was Megan's too and that, by definition made it Sly's as well. She quickly pushed the thought from her mind before she spoke again. "We can decide if we want to look for more answers, but not today. Today I'm just glad we found both pictures." After looking through the remaining photos in the box, Paige sighed. "These are amazing, Sly," she carefully packed the photos and their frames back into the box before placing it next to his pile of boxes to take home.

Sylvester cleared his throat quietly and Paige looked up. "I would like for you… for you and Walter to have the photos."

"Oh, I couldn't–" Paige started to protest before Sylvester interrupted.

"No, I mean it. I want you and Walter to have them. They're his legacy as much as Megan's. It's only right that you keep some of these things." Paige opened her mouth to protest again, but Sylvester put up a hand to stop her.

"Okay," Paige conceded, "On one condition… you let me get copies made and give them to you."

Sylvester looked as if he wanted to argue for a moment, but then he ran the calculations in his head of winning this argument with his sister-in-law and decided to save the effort for a fight he was more likely to win, like convincing Toby to give up his ever-present hat. "Sounds good to me." Sylvester smiled as he placed the box of photos next to the other items Paige was planning to take home.

Sylvester yelped with joy when he opened the next box. Her curiosity piqued, Paige abandoned the box of books she had been repacking to see what had him so excited. Sylvester laid out a number of trinkets from around the world on the storage unit's floor as she watched with great interest. A set of nesting Matryoshka dolls from Russia, a tiny Sumo wrestler figurine from Japan, an Egyptian pharaoh statuette, an Eiffel Tower keychain, canned fog from San Francisco, a Brandenburg Gate replica from Berlin, a colorfully painted elephant statuette from India, a Pope bottle opener, a Romanian Dracula cup, and several more obvious souvenirs from around the globe that Paige couldn't immediately identify.

Eyes bright with excitement, he looked up at Paige expectantly. "Do you know what these are?"

"No… should I?"

Sylvester looked confused for a moment, then smiled to himself. "I guess not. It's unlikely that Walter even realized what she was doing."

"What Megan was doing?" Paige prompted as his attention had once again been consumed by the box of treasures laid out on the dusty floor.

Sylvester snapped his attention back to Paige as he began repacking the box, precisely re-wrapping each trinket in its bit of bubble wrap or tissue paper. "After Walter and Megan came to America before he started Scorpion, Walter made his living and paid for Megan's medical care by giving lectures, consulting for businesses, or working on short-term contracts." Paige nodded, none of this was news to her. "What you didn't know is that as he would travel the globe for the first few years, Megan usually went with him. Traveling the world was a dream of hers stemming from the summer she first got sick and all she could do was lie in bed and read. She spent hours pouring over any book Walter could find for her. Her favorites were filled with photos of far-off and unfamiliar parts of the world. She never thought she would have the chance to see them in person, but whether by accident or design, eventually Walter presented the chance to travel to her and she jumped at it. Megan collected a souvenir from every location where Walter worked. She told me about each one, stories of her and Walter exploring Milan, Chicago, Rio de Janeiro and more. Those years were precious to her. Seeing the world and spending time with her brother." Sylvester saw Paige's face fall as she realized that Walter had never spoken to her of those early years in America with Megan. "I'm sure that time with Megan was important to Walter, too. You know how he is, he hates talking about the past, he finds it inefficient."

Paige smiled weakly. "You're right, of course." She shook herself briefly, then smiled more broadly. "This collection of Megan's is quite impressive. I hope you'd be willing to share it with us sometime. I'd be surprised if Walter even knew it existed."

Sylvester finished repacking the box and placed it next to his growing pile of Megan's things to take back to his apartment. "I'd love to. We can do dinner at my place soon, you, Walter, and Meg, and hopefully Ralph and Caroline can make it too if we can coordinate an evening before the twins are born. I know just where to put these treasures. I just ordered a new display case installed for my classic Super Fun Guy figurine collection, but I think these would be so much nicer on display in the living room instead. I'll let Super Fun Guy wait just a bit."

"I know how much those figurines mean to you Sly, but I think Megan would be pleased with the change of plans. I look forward to seeing the display and hearing the stories soon." Paige opened one of the last few boxes remaining and was surprised to see an entire box full of what appeared to be exclusively yellow toys and knick-knacks. She pulled out a rubber duck wearing a bowler hat and held it up to show Sylvester. "Do you have any idea what all of this is? Everything in this box is yellow."

Sylvester put the box he had just opened aside and hurried over to Paige and her discovery. "I was hoping to find this! These are the souvenirs that Walter brought home to Megan after she became too ill to travel with him."

"That was so sweet of him, but why would every souvenir he would bring for her be yellow?" Paige asked as she rummaged through the box's contents looking for any other color.

"According to Megan, the first time Walter traveled without her, he went to Rome to a science symposium as the keynote speaker. While he was there, he noticed a small yellow toy Lamborghini in a toy shop window while walking to his hotel. He went in and bought it for her. From then on whenever he traveled without her, he would look for a yellow sports car trinket to buy for her, if he couldn't find a yellow sports car, he would look for any yellow car, if he couldn't find that, he would purchase a small yellow toy. She ended up mostly with small rubber ducks, but she loved them all. It was their thing. It helped her feel connected to Walter even when he was gone and she was home alone."

"That's so lovely," Paige mused, "And so completely illogical and yet so Walter." She replaced the rubber duck in the box and turned to place the box next to Sylvester's pile to take home.

"It was one of the few things that Megan worried that Walter might have had the movers throw out. She was concerned that Walter wouldn't want to keep the reminder of his own sentimentality or of her progressing illness." He noticed Paige placing the box next to the others that he was taking home. "I'd like Walter to have these souvenirs. They were the ones he bought special for Megan. It would mean a lot to me if you could convince him to keep and enjoy them."

Paige lifted the box and placed it next to the things she was taking home. She stealthily wiped a tear away before turning to Sylvester and embracing him. Sylvester quickly returned her hug and they stood there like that, holding on to each other for a few moments. "Thank you," she said hurriedly. "I do not doubt that these gifts will mean a lot to Walter. He won't be able to say it, but he will be grateful to have them. Thank you for thinking of him, Sly."

Sylvester blushed just a bit in the dim light of the back of the storage unit before turning to survey the back wall of the dusty room. "I don't see anything else. I think we might have found everything. Do you see anything, Paige?"

Paige squinted intently into the gloom. She didn't see anything else, but just as she was about to take a step back and turn around, an oddly shaped shadow caught her eye. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and shone the flashlight, seeing nothing but concrete wall for a moment, before the light caught one final box, tucked into an odd crevice, almost as if it were trying to hide from prying eyes. She pressed her phone into Sylvester's hands and using the light as her guide carefully maneuvered the final box out from the back of the unit. The box was quite heavy and a bit worse for the wear. She worried that it might fall apart in her hands as she brought it to the front of the unit, close to the door and the daylight outside.

Paige placed the delicate box on the floor and waved Sylvester over to open it himself. He handed her back her phone and removed the layer of old tape sealing the box shut. The box itself was much older than any of the others in the storage unit and a different size from the uniform boxes that the moving company had obviously provided. Paige wondered what treasure she and Sylvester were about to find in the unusual container.

With shaking hands, Sylvester lifted the lid and saw a perfectly restored antique manual typewriter inside. Paige reverently ran her finger over the gleaming typewriter case. "This was Megan's?" she whispered. Sylvester nodded his head, not trusting his voice for a moment as the shock of finding her precious typewriter threatened to overwhelm him. Paige made herself busy straightening lampshades and fluffing sofa cushions unnecessarily to give Sylvester space to collect himself before returning to his side to watch him further examine the box's contents.

After a few moments, Sylvester carefully removed the typewriter from the box and Paige crouched at his side. Answering her earlier question as if no time had passed, Sylvester replied, "Yes, this was Megan's. Ever since she was a young girl, she wanted to be an author. Before she became too sick to continue, she had been working toward a degree in Creative Writing at USC, all the while writing constantly."

"But a typewriter? It seems a surprising choice for the sister of the technology-loving Walter O'Brien."

Sylvester understood Paige's confusion. "She loved the feeling, the tactile sensation of using mechanical keystrokes on ribbon ink to place words onto a blank piece of paper. Walter didn't understand her need for storytelling or her desire for an old manual typewriter, but once he saw how important it was to her, he found it for her, restored it, and even gave it a removable digital memory. It typed on paper like a normal typewriter but saved the keystrokes to a digital drive in a word-processing document format. After he gave it to her, she never wrote using anything else."

Paige sighed regretfully as she ran her finger over the digital drive port with no removable memory drive attached. "I suppose all of her old stories are lost. Who knows where that drive ended up after all this time?"

Sylvester smiled. "That was just about the only important thing she owned that she was willing to take to the care facility with her. Her stories were like her own children, she couldn't bear to leave them behind in a storage unit. After we fell in love, she asked me to take the drive home for safe keeping and I've had it ever since. She was an amazing writer with a vivid imagination and a flair for pulling the reader into her characters' worlds. She had outlined several novels, one completed mystery novel, many short stories and essays. But my favorite was her drafts for an early reader series based on a highly intelligent young boy who loved science. She had plans for more than ten of those books."

"That's amazing, Sylvester! I'm so happy that her stories haven't been lost. Of course, Walter put a digital memory onto her analog typewriter."

Sylvester rubbed his nose and then pushed his glasses up distractedly. "It's true that he did. But unfortunately, one of Megan's series of stories, the one that mattered to her the most, is likely lost. She decided to write one series of her stories on the old typewriter without saving them digitally. They were old stories that her great-grandmother used to tell her when she was a little girl."

"The great-grandmother from the photos we found earlier? What was her name… Aveline?" Paige interrupted.

"Yes," Sly confirmed, "There was always something about the way Megan talked about her Granny that made me feel like what she was telling me wasn't the whole story. And anything I did get her to say was always a struggle. I don't know why she made the confusing choice not to save the stories digitally, but Megan could be just as stubborn as her brother when she wanted, so I'm sure she had reasons that made sense to her anyway. She worried about whether or not those pages had been saved, but no matter how many times I tried to convince her to ask Walter to look for them, she never would. And now here we are with the last box from their old apartment and no sign of the pages anywhere." Sly blinked back tears. He had failed his beautiful wife in this, her greatest wish, to find those pages.

Paige's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "So those stories are likely gone forever. I wonder if Walter knows any of them."

"I'm sure he does. Megan told me she used to tell them to Walter as bedtime stories when they were growing up. But whether or not he'd be willing to share them is a different question altogether. Walter almost never talks about his childhood."

Paige sighed, "I know, even with me, even after all these years, there are just some things he won't talk about. But at least we have the ones she saved to the digital memory drive. After all this time, I can't believe you never said anything about those stories to us!"

"I-I… just talking about her is still difficult. I never know how much about her anyone wants to hear."

"Everything, Sly, everything. She was important to all of us, but more importantly, she was important to you. That means we want to hear everything because you are important to us."

Sylvester just nodded, not trusting his voice, as he moved to repack Megan's typewriter, but as he reached inside for the packing material, his fingers brushed a smaller, flat box at the bottom. He gasped and Paige once again grabbed her phone, shining her cellphone's flashlight into the box's dim interior. There on the bottom of the typewriter's box was a small, thin box 'The Tales of Aveline' written in Megan's careful cursive. Holding his breath, Sylvester removed the smaller box and placed the lid gently on the floor next to him. Inside was a surprisingly thick pile of typewritten pages, a title sheet on top. "Did we just find what I think we found?" Sylvester quickly replaced the box's lid.

Paige beamed. "Yes, I think we did! Don't you want to read them?"

"I do, just not here, not like this. It's too important to read by flashlight in a dusty storage unit."

Paige checked her watch as Sylvester conscientiously repacked the pages and the typewriter in the box. "I totally understand. It's barely past noon. We can close up the storage unit and load the boxes of stuff we're taking into my car. We'll pick up some lunch on the way back to your place."

"That sounds good to me, thank you for all your help with this. Do you mind calling the West Altadenia Women's Shelter to schedule the pickup of the rest of Megan's things? I don't think I can come back here and deal with it."

"Of course," Paige reassured him. The two spent several minutes carrying the boxes and carefully placing them in the back of Paige's car. On the last trip, Sylvester locked the storage unit door and pressed the key into Paige's palm. "Do you want to keep the Lamborghini keychain?"

Sylvester paled at the thought. He knew it was an inside joke between his wife and her brother and the keychain had sentimental value, but he had about as much sentiment as he could handle without bursting. "No," he decided, "You keep it, maybe give it to Meg for her car when she learns how to drive."

Paige smiled and shoved the keychain into her jeans pocket. "I think that's an excellent idea."

Paige and Sylvester drove away from the storage unit, each lost in their own thoughts. The day had turned out not quite how either of them had expected. Once they arrived at Sylvester's apartment the two of them made quick work of carrying in the boxes. Then Paige placed the bags of food on the counter.

The two sat at Sylvester's small table as they ate, chatting of nothing of importance. Paige couldn't help but notice that Sylvester's eyes never strayed far from the box with the typewritten pages. As she gathered up the remains of the meal, intending to dispose of them on her way back to her car, she picked up her purse and gave Sylvester a quick hug. "I'll leave you to read those pages in privacy, but let me know if you need anything. Anything at all," she stressed.

Sylvester held Paige tightly when she attempted to pull away. "Please, don't go. I don't think I can read them on my own. Having you with me at the storage unit made a difficult day bearable. Please stay and read Megan's retelling of Aveline's stories with me."

"All right," Paige agreed and Sylvester released his grip. She put down the bags and led her brother-in-law over toward the sofa. Once he was settled, she removed the typewriter from the box, gently placed it on the kitchen table and carried the smaller box from inside it to where Sylvester sat nervously worrying at a thread on his sweater vest. Paige sat next to him and patted his arm as she placed the box on his lap. "I'm right here, we'll do this together."

Sylvester nodded gratefully, removed the title page, placing it carefully on his other side, cleared his throat and began to read out loud in a timid voice.

The summer of my twelfth year was the longest and hottest of recent memory. Tempers were short and it seemed most days would never end, but that was also the magical summer that Father took me to Wythenshawe Aerodrome in Manchester to see an airplane take off into the sky…