Certain questions never leave the mind. That is how it was for Dagur. He had questions to ask a particular individual and would not stop until they could be asked. In the middle of class, the thirteen-year-old was using a school computer to research someone. He was sly enough to go unnoticed. So, whenever the teacher would walk nearby, his page would be back where it was supposed to be. This was what he had to do until he got to Heather's house later. The boy knocked on her door, promptly being let in. He gave his sister a hug and started entering. Ebba was home earlier than usual, so she saw and smiled at the newcomer. They greeted each other before Dagur turned back to Heather.

"Can I use your laptop?" he asked.

Heather nodded. "Sure. It's upstairs."

"Thanks."

Immediately, Dagur started heading up and the brunette followed behind.

"Why do you want it?" she asked.

"I'm looking up someone."

"Who?"

Dagur did not respond to this question. He hurriedly grabbed the device and turned it on. It felt like it was taking forever to start. Heather could see the impatience on his face.

"Does it always take this long?" he complained.

"It's been off for a while."

The redhead huffed, then brightened when he saw the screen turn on. "Finally!"

He leapt into a spinning seat, eagerly typing away while he spun. Heather thought the spinning was intentional since whenever she would try to go behind him to see what he was doing, the screen woud go by in a blur.

"Will you just tell me what you're doing?"

An odd expression crossed his face. "I'll tell you if I can do it."

"Why can't I know otherwise?"

"Because you might get sad."

"I won't," the girl promised.

Dagur was not willing to take the chance, so he just kept researching in silence. Heather was not going to give up on this. She decided to stay there in the room as well. After what felt like a while, Dagur's fingers stopped moving on the keyboard. He was still for several moments. Heather dared to go over to him.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It worked." The boy sighed before turning the laptop around to show her. "I was looking for Dad."

Heather's eyes widened and she stared at the screen. There was a picture of a judge. He had dark hair like her and a curved nose like her brother. He was standing with some other people and was dressed in a black robe.

"His name's Oswald Berse, but he's called 'The Agreeable.' He's a judge now," Dagur explained. "He works in a county called Serker Ilse."

His sister remained quiet. She sat down on her bed, unsure what to say.

"I'm going to see him," Dagur said, snapping Heather out of this.

She stood up quickly. "Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because…it just seems like you shouldn't."

Dagur crossed his arms. "I didn't do all this research just to look at a picture. I haven't seen Dad in years. I want to talk with him. When I go, do you want to be there?"

Heather looked at the screen again. "When are you going?"

"Tomorrow."

She tugged on her braid slightly. "Dagur, that's barely any time for me to decide."

"It won't be until after school."

"That doesn't really help."

"Fine, I'll push it back to Friday. That'll give you time. Let me know."

Dagur got up and handed the laptop back to Heather. He started heading downstairs and she followed him again.

"You're going already?"

"I want to prepare my questions. Now that I know he's a judge, I've got even more." He turned to call towards the study. "Bye, Ebba."

"Bye, Dagur," the mother returned.

Dagur gave a wave to Heather before leaving her home. She just stood in the doorway when he was gone. Leave it to Dagur to give her information like this, then vanish. Ebba noticed that her daughter was oddly silent. She went over towards the entryway.

"Something wrong, Dear?"

Heather still felt stunned and looked at her mother. "Dagur found our birth father."

Ebba's eyes widened slightly and she hesitated. "How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know," the girl admitted. "I mean, he's my dad, but he doesn't seem like it. You two are my parents. I've known you for as long as I can remember. The only reason I could even recognize Oswald is because Dagur and I look like him."

"Well, your emotions on the matter don't have to be really clear," the woman stated. "Feelings are messy sometimes. You can be happy and angry at the same time."

Heather started to frown. "But I don't think I'm happy."

"Are you upset?"

"No…I…I guess I'm confused."

"That's fine too."

"Dagur wants to see him. He asked if I would too."

Ebba looked slightly concerned about this. "It was a closed adoption. I'm not sure how he'll respond if we arrive unexpectedly." Briefly, she saw disappointment flash on the girl's face. "Maybe Bo and I can contact him. We'll see if he'd be willing. I can't promise anything, but…"

Heather gave her a hug. "Thanks, Mom. I don't even know if I want to see him or not, but I can tell that Dagur really does. This'll mean a lot to him." She paused, frowning. "I don't need to see him. I've already got a mom and dad who love me."

Ebba put a hand on her shoulder. "You do, but we understand that your curiosity about him doesn't mean you love us any less. No matter what you're feeling or what you decide, Bo and I love you. Nothing's going to change that. We won't be offended if you think of Oswald as your parent too. He technically is."

Heather nodded and began to smile. She thought that her mother was very understanding. It made her wonder how her biological mother would have been. Maybe that was a question that Dagur would ask Oswald. Maybe if it was not, it was one she should ask. Heather started wondering if Oswald was like Bo or not. The man could have been completely different. He could have been gross or mean. He also could have been kind. She never knew anything about him. She was not even sure how Dagur found out who he was. She doubted that he had heard their father's real name often when he was so young. Yet, she could not deny the curiosity that tugged at her very being for the remainder of the week. It made her regret the fact that Dagur had decided to wait until Friday. Even though it was just Wednesday, that time in between seemed like too much. When Heather saw Dagur the next day, she had her answer.

"I'll go with you."

Dagur's face lit up in excitement. "Great! I was hoping you'd say that. I found where he lives."

Heather chuckled softly. "You could become a professional tracker if you wanted."

"We'll see. Might get bored if I'm not finding a family member. What time do you want to go tomorrow?"

"Mom and Dad are calling to see if they can reach Oswald now. If they say he's fine with it, they'll probably have the time figured out too."

"Oh, I was just going to stop by. That's a better idea."

Dagur looked towards the house. He wanted to go in and listen to the conversation. He wanted to hear his father's voice. At that moment, not even the parents were hearing Oswald's voice. They were speaking with an assistant.

"Could we speak to Judge Oswald Berse, please?" Ebba asked.

"Is this for a court case?"

"It's a personal matter," Bo added.

The assistant hesitated. "We don't normally take those calls."

"It won't take us too long. If he's there, could you let us speak with him?"

Again, there was a pause on the line. Then the couple heard muffled voices. The next voice on the phone was a different person.

"Hello, this is Judge Berse. It sounded like something was wrong?"

The couple looked at one another, then took a breath.

"Yes–or no," Ebba stammered. "What I mean to say is that I believe we had the pleasure of adopting your daughter. She and her brother found your picture online."

"If you would be willing to do this, they really wanted to meet you," Bo stated.

The other man did not say anything for a while. Suddenly, he spoke again.

"It was supposed to be a closed adoption."

"We know," Bo admitted, "but Dagur is a surprisingly good detective. He's the one who found us."

"He has a habit of going to the people he wants to find," Ebba informed the judge. "Basically, we want to just let you know this first so that he doesn't show up unannounced."

"Ah, well, I appreciate that." Oswald paused, then continued. "Tomorrow, I have a half day. You can visit me at my office. It'll be empty. I trust that you have the address."

"Yes, we have that."

"Good. I will see you at 3 then."

The phone was hung up before either parent could say goodbye. They glanced at each other unsurely. Still, they had made a promise. They went outside, immediately seeing Dagur rush over to them.

"What did he say?"

It stung slightly for them to see how much the boy's enthusiasm contrasted with the man's indifference.

"He said that you can meet him tomorrow at 3 in his office."

"School's out at 3," Heather commented, frowning slightly.

"We can skip a class," Dagur said.

The parents did not want to condone skipping, but they had a feeling that the judge would not be willing to accept any other time. He surely knew his children were of school age.

"We'll speak with your teachers," Bo said. "I'm sure they'll understand that these aren't usual circumstances. You'll just have a few extra notes to look over."

Dagur was fine with this, eagerly bringing out his list of questions. Heather was less certain. She noticed the hesitance in her parents. They were doubtful about this visit and it made her feel the same. Dagur left them to prepare more and the trio went inside. Heather was quiet during dinner and breakfast the next morning. Once she and Dagur were together again, the older sibling regarded her in concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just…I'm fine."

Dagur's face scrunched in disbelief, but he did not push the matter. Although he did not want to admit it, he felt nerves of his own. They stayed with him all the way to the courthouse. It was big. Neither child had ever gone to one before. Oswald had been telling the truth about it being empty. No one's car was in the parking lot except for his. The family entered, going to the front desk at first. Since no one was present, they kept going until they heard the sound of papers being flipped through. In a room up ahead of them, there was a man. He held the papers, then offered a polite smile to the family.

"It's nice to meet you," he said.

Suddenly, Oswald's eyes widened when Dagur ran over to him. The boy gave him a big hug and the judge's arms were held out, unsure how to respond.

"I knew you were still alive, Dad!" Dagur exclaimed happily.

Oswald awkwardly patted his head. "Yes, I try to manage my health and no one's been angry enough at a sentencing to kill me."

Subtly, he got out of the embrace. Ebba and Bo noticed this, trying to not look offended for the boy. Heather stayed near them.

"Hi," she said timidly.

There was nearly an odd silence, but Dagur stopped that from happening. He took out a notepad.

"Okay, Dad, so I've got some questions for you."

Oswald's mouth curved down and Bo nearly suggested that Dagur not ask anything, but the boy had already started.

"What's it like being a judge? Do you make a lot of money?"

The man nodded. "I make more than enough to get by. I enjoy my work."

"Have any other kids?"

"No."

"Have any pets?"

"No, I live alone."

Dagur's eyes lost some of the twinkle. "Oh, okay. Guess that answers my next question."

Heather moved forward slightly. "What was Mom like?"

Oswald looked at her and became quiet for a moment. "She was wonderful. Brilliant, funny, brave, and kind. I could never hope to find a better friend or spouse."

The judge cleared his throat and set down the papers. He reached into his pocket and took out a few bills. He handed an equal amount to both kids.

"She loved black raspberry ice cream. There's a spot around here that still sells it. Get yourselves some."

Heather nodded, then started moving back to her parents. She was not necessarily satisfied, but she never knew what to expect from the visit anyway. Dagur did not move back. He stared at the money, then looked up at the man.

"Are you going to come with us to get it?"

"No, I have a lot of work I need to get through."

"Are we going to see you later? I don't have a phone, but I could borrow Heather's, so we can both talk to you."

Oswald looked past him and at the parents. There was a request in his eyes that they saw.

"The judge is probably a busy man," Ebba stated. "It was a relief that he could fit us into his schedule today."

Dagur glanced at her, then turned back to Oswald. His eyes began to narrow.

"You don't want to see us again. This is 'go away' money, isn't it?"

Oswald's brows lifted. "I wouldn't call it that. It's a gift. Now, I wouldn't want to make things awkward between you and your parents."

"They aren't my parents," Dagur said, pointing at the couple. "They're Heather's. You're my only parent."

Oswald became quiet again. "It seems like they care for you."

"We do," Bo stated, starting to frown and trying to keep that off his face. "Let's go so that we don't take up too much of Judge Berse's time."

Dagur shook his head, frowning. "No, I can't just leave. He's got to take me back."

"What?" Oswald asked, voice raising. "I said that I'd see you both. I never said anything about that."

"But you have to!"

Heather went over and held her brother's hand. "Dagur, let's go."

He looked at her sadly, causing her to feel hurt as well. "But he's my one chance."

Dagur faced Oswald again. The man was regarding him like he was contaminated with some strange infection. He could not have seemed more horrified. It stung. Briskly, Dagur turned and started leaving with Heather and her parents. In the car, he stayed with his arms crossed in front of him. Ebba looked at him through the rearview mirror.

"You'll find a better home, Sweetie," she assured him.

"I was supposed to be in his home," the boy mumbled.

His throat was sore, but more than that, he was angry. Dagur felt like he wanted to lash out at somebody, so he stayed silent. No one in the car deserved his rage. Heather gave his hand a squeeze and the most he could do was offer a grimace-like smile to her. He wondered how she could not be upset, then he remembered that two reasons were in the front seat.

"I made some chicken cacciatore before we left," Bo stated.

It was a meal that both siblings loved—something to hopefully brighten their spirits if things went poorly. Dagur knew it and that only stung more. Maybe that was why Heather did not seem excited. Everyone except him knew that this was going to be a wasted trip.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"You'll need to eat something."

Dagur just frowned out the window. Bitterly, he thought, "You can't make me. You're not my dad." "I have to get back soon," is what he said instead. "They'll be snippy in the morning if I get in late."

Although the parents knew this was not why he wanted to return, they did not argue. They brought Dagur back to the orphanage. He said goodbye to the family and watched them drive off. Then he scowled at the building. It all seemed to spite him. He hated seeing the younger kids. They had so much more promise than he did. He even hated seeing the older ones since they looked so bright and warm. It was only a matter of time before they found families. Someone like him would just age out. Dagur felt like he could not stay there and be mocked by their existence any longer. So, despite whatever the complaints would be in the morning, he went out on his own.

Dagur knew the address to the man's home. Naturally, he knew this. He had not planned on being given a ride, so he wanted to be ready for making the trip alone. The boy went to a bus station, using some of the money his father had given him. He had saved for the trip, but he decided to keep that for later. This bus did not go directly to Serker Isle, but it got him within walking distance. It was getting dark and he saw lightning in the sky. Dagur still did not care. He walked until he reached the home. It was pleasant in the front with artificial flowers and real berry bushes near the door. Dagur did not see the car, but he assumed it was parked in the garage. The light inside gave him everything he needed to know. The slightly opened window gave him an opportunity. A tracker. Dagur could have been a professional burglar if he ever decided to go that route, but he doubted it would make his sister proud. Regardless, he knew how to break into places. He easily slid through the window's opening, then started going towards the sound he heard. Bags were being opened in the kitchen. Oswald had picked up a to-go meal for dinner. He froze when he sensed someone behind him. The man turned, then his eyes widened.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"I already agreed to see you. You can't just break into my home. That's illegal."

"So is child abandonment!"

Oswald put a hand to his forehead, grunting. "I didn't abandon you. I took you to the orphanage. That's hardly illegal."

Dagur kept frowning at him. "I thought it was because you got sick or something and knew you were going to die. You just didn't want us. Why'd you even have us?"

The man lowered his hand, angrily looking at him. "Leave my house."

"Not until I get some answers."

Dagur planted his feet, scowling up at him. It was clear that the boy was not going to leave until he was satisfied and Oswald did not want to bring the authorities into this. The last thing he needed was to have bad press.

"Fine," he relented, annoyed. "I didn't want you. We did," he corrected. Oswald's glare softened slightly and he turned away. "Your mother and I wanted to have children so badly. It felt like a miracle when we had you both, then…then we lost her. I couldn't do it alone. I can't. So, I gave you a chance to find someone better."

Dagur looked less angry, but he still felt sad. "It worked for Heather, but not for me. I haven't even gone to a foster home. People either don't want to talk to me or they do it for a little and change their minds." He looked at the ground, feeling embarrassed. "I don't want to leave the orphanage before I find a family. It's hard, though. I don't know how to get them to like me."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"It's not happening fast enough. Can't you just let me stay here? It's not too far from Heather. I could spend most of my time there."

"I'm not doing that."

"I don't take up that much space! You'd be surprised how neat I am. I could clean up around here." Dagur looked around to find a mess, but he did not see any. "You apparently like it to be tidy. I can take care of that."

"I can clean it myself."

"Then what about food? You bought that stuff," the boy said, pointing at the bags. "You'd save a lot if I made food instead."

"I don't need a maid or a cook, Dagur."

"But I need a home, Dad," the redhead insisted desperately. "Heather's got one. I'm not mad at her because of it, but I just wish I could have that too. When I told her that I was going to come here, she didn't even know if she wanted to come or not because not much was going to change for her. With or without you, she's got somewhere to go every night." Dagur's face scrunched sadly as he continued. "The only time I'm around a family is when I'm around hers."

"Maybe they could adopt you," Oswald offered, starting to look frustrated.

"They can't! They already tried that, but they can't because…"

Dagur trailed off, not wanting to finish. It did not seem like a good way to get Oswald to want him back if he learned the full reason.

"Because the social workers believe you'll require special attention," the man finished for him.

"How'd you know?" the boy asked, eyes wide. "I didn't think you'd remember."

"I don't, but my mother was that way. It skips a generation every time."

Dagur was quiet for a moment, then looked hopeful. "If you know about this stuff, maybe you can help then." He immediately saw a coldness in Oswald's eyes and spoke again. "Or not. It's not that bad. Honest. You might even like me if you gave me a chance."

Oswald regarded him tensely, then turned to finish taking items out of the bags. He began setting the table for himself. Awkwardly, Dagur stood where he was.

"Go back, Dagur," the judge instructed. "I don't have time in my life to raise a teenager."

"But you don't have to raise me," Dagur protested, agitated. "I can figure stuff out on my own. I just want to live here. You'll be like my landlord! Maybe I can even find a way to make money. I could give you rent. Just tell me what I'd have to do. Come on, Da–"

"Dagur!" the man shouted, turning to the intruder. "What you have to do is leave. If you refuse, I will call the authorities and report a break-in."

The redhead stopped talking. Sadness and anger hit him like two clubs to the head. Spinning around, the boy stormed over to the door. He grabbed the handle, then glared back at Oswald.

"You have this stupid, perfect life here," he hissed. "Great house and neighborhood, great job, plenty of money, but I don't even want to be here because of all that. I just wanted to be around you." His glare became colder. "I hope you lose all this. If you don't want Heather and me in your life, I hope it's a short one. At least then, we won't have to feel unwanted for long."

Oswald never looked back up at him, having started eating. Dagur opened, then slammed the door shut. He had not noticed the sound of rain while inside, but it was pouring. This could not have mattered less to the boy. He returned to the orphanage, greeted by the same annoyed faces he was accustomed to seeing. Dagur was glad that it was Friday. He was in no mood to go to school the next day and pretend to be in a good mood to stay out of detention. He even did not plan on going to visit Heather. For most of the day, the boy just stayed inside. It was still raining. The storm had gotten worse throughout the night. It took until Sunday for it to clear up. Dagur had gone outside to see if the fresh air would help. His eyebrows lifted slightly when he saw a familiar car being pulled into the driveway. As soon as it stopped, Heather hopped out. Her eyes were puffy and Dagur immediately felt upset.

"What happened?" he asked.

The girl just gave him a hug. He returned the embrace and looked at the adults questioningly. They had remorseful looks on their faces.

"Oswald," Bo said quietly. "He was in an accident yesterday."

A pit formed in Dagur's stomach. "What? H-how bad?"

He saw the answer in the man's eyes. It made him feel light-headed.

"At least we got to see him first," Heather said softly.

Dagur did not respond. A rush of guilt had entered the boy. He had never wanted that. He was just so angry and hurt. His own words echoed in his mind until they nearly made him sick. Then there was pain. Pain for knowing his final words to his father were so hateful, pain for losing the last parent he had left…pain for knowing another chance for a home was gone.

"I'm sorry," he said, practically whispering.

Heather just held him tighter. "It's not your fault, but I am too."

Life could be so fleeting, stamped out without warning. Dagur had rarely thought of death. It seemed like something for people who were sick or elderly, not for anyone else. Accidents. That word made it sound too harmless, too easily repairable. The boy thought of all the times he had been separated from Heather and how any of them could have ended in a similar result. Something had to change. A simple goodbye was no longer enough. When his sister had to go this time, he knew what he wanted to say.

"Love you, Sis," he said.

Heather gave a small smile. "Love you too."

That eased a part of the boy's mind. He knew from that point on, this was how he would say goodbye to those he cared about. Never again would he regret his final words. Never.