KINGSMAN

XXIV

ARCHER WAS MISSING.

Samuel was busy checking his watch and tapping his foot impatiently. Roman gnawed at the nail of his thumb. They were supposed to have left half an hour ago, and Archer was nowhere to be found.

Samuel sighed exasperatedly for the fifth time in three minutes. "Any idea where he might be, Roman?"

Roman peeled the nail off with his teeth and spit it out into the grass. "If I did, I'd've fetched him by now."

They were all dressed in mourning black, prepared to pay condolences to the Hill family. Sienna avoided Sylvi's eyes as she patted Samuel's shoulder and tried to talk him down as he sighed again.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel and every head swiveled. Archer ran up to them, waving his hand and shouting a slurry of apologies. When he finally stopped, Roman patted Archer's back as he bent over and coughed. He was red in the face and breathing hard. Samuel pressed something on his watch.

"Thirty-seven minutes, Archer," he chastised. "You're almost forty minutes late."

"I... I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I thought, I—" Samuel waved him off and Archer shut his mouth.

"Nevermind. Now that we're all here. Everyone, get in the cars."

Sylvi slid back into the silver car, Roman and Archer across from her. Archer was still panting but trying to look presentable. His tie was crooked and half-finished. She couldn't help but map every single wrinkle on his shirt and his uncuffed sleeves. Roman noted the same and completed the loop of the tie.

"Couldn't have bothered with an iron, hmm Archer?"

Archer smacked him lightly on the shoulder. His hands were trembling. "Leave me alone, alright? I was already dreading today and now I feel like absolute—"

Roman tsked mockingly. "Language, Archer."

Things quieted the closer they got the to Hill household. It was a large, brick-and-mortar home that stood in a row along with several others, plots of land separating them. Archer became as gray as Samuel Webb the second the car stopped in the driveway. Roman patted him on the shoulder and opened the car door.

In front of the house stood the group Sylvi had seen at Benjamin's funeral. They hadn't changed, still as homogenous as ever with the same pale complexion, dark hair, and sad green eyes. An older woman approached Samuel and shook his hand. She struggled to smile at him. Grief was held in every bit of her posture. Despite the time that had passed, she still wore mourning black. Sylvi supposed this was his mother though she could never be sure. None of them looked anything like him.

A man joined the woman and spoke to Samuel in hushed tones before leading them all inside. While Samuel took the lead, Sienna fell back beside Sylvi.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered.

Sylvi startled. "Oh, um, fine, I guess... It's just..."

Everywhere she looked were photographs of Benjamin. In most he was surrounded by family: Mom, Dad, and three sisters all poking and grinning at him. Sylvi stopped by a photograph of Benjamin, about thirteen, grinning and holding a participation trophy. He was covered in dirt and had mussed hair. In his other hand, he held soccer cleats. He looked the happiest Sylvi had ever seen him. For once, there was some life in his eyes, and he held his head up like he wasn't Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.

The farther they walked, the older Benjamin got in his photos. One was taken at the gates of Edgewood. Anthony Crest stood beside him, elbow resting on Benjamin's shoulder. They were both young and pudgy looking. First-years, Sylvi thought. She remembered her first year at Edgewood. That was back when she still had hair that fell to her back and owl-eye sized glasses. That was the year she met April.