Everything was falling apart.

She'd been able to distract herself easily enough while making dinner with Mama. Papa had left some chicken in the fridge, so Mama had proposed they make baked chicken, a sweet sauce she had learned to make last week at her lessons to go with it, and leftover rice. Anya had fun getting her hands messy with the batter and breadcrumbs and sneaking small pieces of the meat to Bond when Mama wasn't looking. While the chicken was in the oven, Mama showed Anya how to add each ingredient together to make the sauce and that was fun too. At one point, Anya had splattered some on her nose and Mama giggled as she stretched her tongue to try to lick it off.

Anya liked Mama's laugh.

Anya wanted to cry when Mama assured her that they'd leave a serving for Papa to try when he got back from seeing his 'friend.'

That man wasn't Papa's friend. He was her old-Papa, and he was going to tell Papa everything and Papa would be mad at her. He would come home and take her back to the orphanage and she'd never see her family again. She'd never get to go back to school and see Becky again. Or Sy-on Boy. Or his idiot friends. Or Scruffy.

Things had been happy so far too! Anya had been studying and getting better grades for World Peace, and Sy-on Boy and his lackeys weren't as mean to her as they used to be…even if they were still annoying. Mama was getting better at cooking, and it made her very happy and she was always telling Anya how much she loved being her Mama.

Papa seemed to be happier too. He was still very serious, and his thoughts were too noisy, but he thought about his tummy aches a lot less and he didn't seem to get as annoyed with Anya as much as he used to. Whenever he glanced over at Mama, his fast thoughts that sometimes gave Anya a headache would quiet a bit and go warm and fuzzy around the edges.

Anya wanted to cry so badly.

They finished eating. Mama had let Anya help her clean the dishes (Anya hadn't dropped any!), and they were sitting on floor stroking a sleepy Bond just as the front door opened.

"Welcome back, Loid?" Mama said, standing quickly, "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Anya looks up to see her Papa staring right at her. His thoughts were a mess, as usual, but one struck her louder than the rest:

'Who are you?'

Anya's stomach flipped. She tried to open her mouth to greet him like Mama and pretend everything was normal.

All that came out was a wail.

XXX

The thought struck Loid as he made his way down the hallway towards the Forger household, Peter Roche's gift tucked under his arm.

"I'm six!"

(He had thought, from the beginning, that she seemed too small…)

Back in the restaurant, he had only considered how Anya's true age affected Operation STRIX – how a six year was optimal for infiltrating Eden, and how it made more sense that she struggled in many things. On his way home, he considered how it affected his perception of her skills – the fact that she was actually five and not only made it into Eden College, but also managed to keep up with her classmates enough to avoid getting kicked out was impressive. After all, most of her only Tonitrus Bolts had been awarded for behavior, rather than poor academics. Somehow.

But as he walked towards the front door, it occurred to him…

How did she know he was looking for a six-year-old?

When he had entered the orphanage, looking for a child to take part in his mission, he stated that he wanted a child who could read and write. A child who already had a foundation for the basics would be easier to prepare for the entrance exams and that was all he'd cared about.

He'd never insisted on an age requirement. The drunk caretaker had stated that she was the only child in that place who could read and write so, if she had been too young or too old, he would have just left and gone to another orphanage. The war, and the instability that remained in the years right after the war, left a lot of abandoned children and adults too traumatized to raise children in Ostania. That was one thing that Westalis and Ostania had in common. Too many abandoned children crying in the streets.

So, he had options.

But Anya had looked at him once, declared that she was exactly what he was looking for, and filled out a convenient newspaper's crossword puzzle to convince him she was what he needed. It was all too convenient.

Thinking about how convenient it was, now, just made him feel dread.

Was she a plant? Did Ostanian intelligence somehow know of WISE's plan? This couldn't be the SSS – they were too direct for such a roundabout scheme. The orphanage had a reputation in the underworld for being shady, so did someone plant a child to sabotage the Eden infiltration? But Twilight was the top spy in Westalis for a reason; as the man of a thousand faces, nobody outside his agency knew his true face, so there would be no way for them to target him specifically. And even if they had, then their plan must have failed because Anya wasn't acting as if she was instructed to sabotage Operation STRIX. In fact, she was studying harder than ever and frequently spoke about ways to get Stella. Her goals seemed to align more with his own than with any obstructive parties. If she wanted to prevent him from gaining access to Eden College, she could have failed her entrance exam from the beginning.

Loid sighed. He really thought his days of suspecting his fabricated family were behind him.

Yor, at the very least, was still awake – he could see the main lights streaming from under the front door. He really hoped that Anya had gone to bed after dinner because he really didn't want to deal with her while he was still making his mental threat assessment. Whether or not she was placed in his path for some reason, he had to admit that she hadn't done anything. No five-year-old could comprehend the complexities of international politics enough to genuinely volunteer for such a scheme (if, indeed, she had been directed by some puppeteer) so she was innocent.

So innocent…

The sight of her crying in bed flashed in his mind once more and he resolved, as he opened the door to greet his family and act as if everything was normal for now. He would speak to Handler in the morning, gather more information on what exactly was going on, and reassess if he and WISE needed to be aware of external threats to Operation STRIX, just in case they truly were compromised.

He would not push that on Anya. She was a child caught in the middle of something much bigger than her. He would not treat her like a threat.

But all those thoughts flew out the window as he opened the door, heard Yor's melodic greeting, made eye contact with the little pink-haired girl over her shoulder, and was hit with a loud, desperate cry.

"Anya?!"

Yor whipped back around with her hair spreading in a wide black arc. Bond, lying on the floor near the television, jumped to alertness and looked around for the sudden disturbance before nuzzling against Anya in confusion.

"Anya, what's wrong?!"

But Anya seemed too distressed to even focus on answering Yor. Loid had never heard anguish like that from her before; tears were rolling down her cheeks and she was forcing the air out of her lungs like she was hoping she could use her voice to push him and Yor away from her. Even as Yor grabbed her shoulders to hug her, she did not tear her eyes away from Loid and Loid felt helpless at the sheer fear he saw in her gaze.

Loid put the package on the dining table and tried to walk over and help Yor calm Anya down. Anya, to his horror, took a step back. Loid froze as he was hit with an unexpected wave of nausea.

She was afraid of him.

He raised his hands in a placating gesture.

Yor looked back at Loid pleadingly as she picked Anya up to cradle her, "I'm sorry Loid! I didn't know she'd be so upset about you not being here for dinner!"

"Neither did I," Loid said. He turned his attention to Anya who was burying her face in Yor's shoulder, now refusing to look his way at all, "What's wrong, Anya?" he tried, "It's okay. I'm not mad at you, see? Please, Anya, don't be sad."

Anya stopped wailing, but clung to Yor tighter as she trembled, "Please don't…" she whimpered.

"'Please don't' what?" Loid asked, but Anya shook her head.

Loid looked at Yor who seemed dismayed, "Maybe it's time to go to bed," she said quietly, "Maybe you'll feel better in the morning?"

Anya nodded slowly and Yor took her to her bedroom. Bond tilted his head at Loid for a second before following.

As soon as Anya's bedroom door closed, he collapsed into a chair and put his head in his hands. This was not how he expected his evening to go. At all. Anya broke down as soon as he stepped through the door – he didn't have any time to open his mouth or show any significant body language that would alert her to his thoughts about her. And yet, she panicked as soon as he stepped through the door.

He needed to figure out how to calm her down and talk to her. And if Yor got suspicious at Anya's behavior, he'd need to ease her worries as well.

This was not good…

Loid heard Anya's door creak open once more and he raised his head to see Yor giving him an evaluating look.

"You still have your coat on."

"Oh," Loid immediately stood and undid the buttons, a little embarrassed that he'd forgotten something so simple. He was too vulnerable, having her see him act exactly as tired as he felt. The urge to repress everything and put on an affable smile itched in his brain, but he found that he didn't care about that right now. Not when he needed to put all his attention into treading carefully in this situation.

As he hung up his coat and returned to his seat, she twiddled her fingers, "Do you want something to eat or drink?"

He shook his head, "Sorry, I was planning to, but I have no appetite now," he looked towards Anya's room, "Can't really think about eating after all that, you know? When I don't know why…"

Well, he had an inkling of the 'why', but it was a good excuse as any to get to his room as quickly as possible. He needed to think of his next steps.

Yor still looked at him as she walked around to the other side of the table and sat down. She reached for the package between them, "What's this?"

"Mr. Roche brought a gift for Anya. Do you want to see it?"

Yor played with the edge of the wrapping paper, but didn't say or do anything else, seemingly lost in thought. She opened her mouth to say more but closed it and looked at the table.

A part of him wanted to ask what was on her mind, but he also didn't want to open the door to a conversation he didn't know if he could handle right now. He hoped she would lose her nerve and stay quiet or change the subject.

But Yor was becoming more confident these days, at least around him, and she sighed before saying, "Anya said something as I was trying to calm her down…" Yor glanced at him but looked away just as quickly when they made eye contact, "She said… 'Old-Papa ruined everything'..."

Loid stiffened, but Yor wasn't done, "And…and she said, 'Please don't let Papa give Anya away again'." Yor finally looked up at him and Loid's throat tightened as he saw concern in her eyes, "Who is 'old-Papa'? And why did she say, 'give me away again'?"

Loid swallowed. He needed to talk to Anya now.

"I don't know."

"To which one?"

"Both," Loid said, "I have no idea who 'old-Papa' is and I've never given Anya away to anyone. I've never even thought about such a thing. I promise."

'Liar.' Twilight whispered, and he felt ashamed.

"Can I speak to her," Loid asked, "I'm really worried about what might be going through her head right now."

Yor's evaluating gaze was back. Loid was suddenly struck by how little he knew about how her mind worked. She was observant and empathetic, but she was also very naïve, and he had no idea which side of her would win out.

"You would tell me if something was wrong, right?" she said softly, "I asked you to rely on me, remember? We're partners."

She was giving him an opening to tell her the truth. But the truth can get him killed, in his line of work.

Loid nodded, "I know."

Yor nodded and Loid got up, giving her a small smile that he hoped was reassuring.

XXX

When he opened the door to Anya's room, the first thing he saw was her bedroom window.

Open.

Was she trying to run away? Panic flooded his brain as he thought, for a second, that she had somehow jumped out. But Bond was lying on the floor under the windowsill and there's no way he would have let her leave. There was no balcony outside her bedroom window and the street was three floors down…

Then he saw a lump under the duvet on her bed.

"Anya?"

The lump shook. She didn't respond, but Loid felt relieved anyway.

'Why is this girl giving me such emotional whiplash tonight?!'

He shut the door and turned on her bedroom light, "I know you're not asleep."

He waited for one minute, leaning against the door, before deciding to speak again.

"Why is your window open?"

"Air," came her small voice. Loid sighed.

The lump still didn't move, so he walked over and pulled the covers off to reveal the girl curled in the fetal position. She scrunched up her face at the sudden light, but didn't open her eyes or move, so Loid decided to just sit at the edge of the bed and wait. Eventually, she peeked one eye open to look at him and uncurled, but she kept her eyes on her lap and her fingers played with the hem of her pajama shirt.

"Anya wanted to run away," she admitted. Her voice wavered.

"Why?"

"Because Anya doesn't want to go back to that stinky orphanage."

"Who said you were going back?"

Anya looked up at Loid, "You want to. Now that old-Papa told you everything, you're going to send me back."

Loid felt that twinge of shame return. She had already made up her mind that he would hate her for whatever she thought Peter told her. She was ready to run away rather than face what she thought was inevitable. Loid looked up at her bedroom ceiling. He counted the points of the stars that she had stuck directly above her bed as he eased his breathing. Five yellow stickers…25 points. Five stickers out of an unnecessary pack that he had bought for her anyway because decorating her room made her happy.

Anya was not a threat. This was just an innocent girl who thought she was going to be abandoned, who needed reassuring that she wasn't.

"What do you think Mr. Roche told me." Loid asked, leaning back in a more relaxed position.

"That I'm a freak." At that, she teared up again.

"He didn't say that. He was actually quite worried about you."

Anya looked at him with her eyes narrowed, like she was trying to judge his honesty.

"Anya could always tell when she was lying to her…"

"He told me he was sad that he missed your birthday and gave me a gift to give to you," he continued, looking back at Anya, "Your sixth birthday."

Anya grew tense and her gaze darted towards the window for the first time. Loid shifted closer to her on the bed so that if she tried to make a break for it, he could grab her.

"When we first met, you told me you were already six," Loid let a little of his suspicion come through in his voice, "You knew you were five, so why did you say that? Did someone ask you to say you were six?"

Anya shook her head.

"How did you know to say that, then?"

Anya looked back in her lap, "Papa wanted a six-year-old…"

"I never said that."

Silence. Anya looked at him with wide eyes as Loid narrowed his, "Please, Anya, I need to know."

Anya shook her head, but Loid had another scary thought.

"Mr. Roche also told me you warned him about their house fire. He said you heard a man plotting outside. But that you didn't hear him speak…"

Anya's lips wobbled, "Anya just said what Papa was thinking so he'd choose her! Please don't be mad at Anya!"

A cold chill ran down Loid's spine, "What I was…?"

Anya threw both her hands over her mouth.

"Anya," Loid said, more sternly, as he turned to face her fully, "What do you know about my thoughts?"

Anya's tears flowed faster now, down her cheeks and over her hands which were still firmly over her mouth.

"Anya," Loid said, frowning, "Who are you?"

And that's when the dam burst.

Well, things have certainly taken a turn! How's that for a reveal?