The Fugitive

The Children

Emily Anderson's POV

Charles Sievers took his time answering my question.  He sipped on a cup of tea before setting it on the table beside his chair.  He nodded at a servant in the corner of the room, whom took the cup.  Finally, he sighed and looked at me.  "I'm offended that you would dare to even think that I have anything to do with Nicholas Sievers."

I eyed Nick's father up and down. His graying hair had clearly done nothing to pacify the stern look on his weathered face.

"Aren't Brook's children staying with you?"

He nodded.  "Yes, but not because she's searching for Nicholas. We made a deal. If I helped them stop Vincent Huxley, I got custody of my grandchildren." He sighed. "Unfortunately, the court pared it down to only partial custody."

He was lying. The kids were here because Brook and Derek were on the hunt for Nick.  Lila's letter had insinuated as much.

I looked around the luxurious room.  "Where are the children?"

"A tutor is reading to them.  War and Peace by Tolstoy, if I'm not mistaken."

It was all I could do not to snort.  "I see.  May I speak with them?"

Charles hesitated.  "I...I suppose it wouldn't hurt.  But please, don't mention Nicholas.  It's still a tender topic."

"Right.  Your son will stay out of the conversation."

"He's not my son."  He picked up a small bell and rang it.

Footsteps came thudding from down the hall.  Two girls, dressed as if they were about to attend a wedding, appeared.

"Darlings," Charles said, "this is Director Emily Anderson of the FBI.  She wants to speak with you."

Something passed over the older's face.  Understanding, possibly.  Or concern.  But it was gone before I could recognize it. I recognized her as the one who had written the letter.

"We've already met her," the younger, Henley, blurted out.

Charles nodded.  "Of course, I suppose you have.  We all have lapses of memory every now and then, don't we?"  He chuckled, but narrowed his eyes at the girls.  I frowned.  What was he trying to tell them?

"Sit, please," I asked the girls.  Turning to Charles, I said, "I would prefer to speak with them alone, sir."

He faltered.  "They are in my care.  Anything you say to them, you can say to me."

"Mr. Sievers, you have nothing to be concerned about.  That is, unless you have something to hide."

That silenced the old man.  He glanced at the girls one last time before nodding.  "Ring the bell when you're finished."

Time Skip

"How long have you been staying with your grandfather?"

Lila responded quickly, not even giving her younger sister, Henley, a chance to open her mouth. "Ever since Pearl Harbor, we've split our time between Grandfather and Mom."

"What about this visit in particular?"

"I'm...I'm not sure. We don't exactly keep track of the days."

"But surely you know how long it is until you return to your parents' house?"

"It's Mommy's house," Henley blurted out. Lila's hand shot to her sister's knee, but relaxed when she realized Henley hadn't said anything of importance.