Tales of the Narnian Monarchs: Home Wasn't Built in a Day

Sanya Basically Has a Bad Time

"Now can you tell me your age? Residence?" Mrs. Allie Keyes, a thirty something year old, asked the young girl in front of her.

90. "16. January 20... um, 2003. And Manchester. Block 6, flat 2I." Sanya told her and she typed it in a commuter-computer?

Lilith had already sat down with some old newspapers while Sanya did her registration, combing over them for any mention of the name 'Pevensie' or 'Reza'.

Allie looked at her in surprise. She hadn't realised she was so young. "Where's your family?"

"Lost them. Train crash. India." Except it wasn't them that died, Sanya added mentally.

"Any papers?" The lady asked, feeling bad for her. Poor girl, so young...

"I'm sorry, they were all lost in the crash." Sanya said and then added zealously, "Please, I need this job. I need to support my adopted family, please, I-"
She never begged. Except for now.

"Relax, dearie." The librarian gave a chuckle. "I understand, and besides, you must have given a request for additional ID?"

At Sanya's nod, she went on. "Okay now, full name?"

"Sanya. Reza." She said hesitantly, half worried about something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"And last name?"

"What?" Sanya asked, taken aback.

"Say-Sanya- first name, Reza- middle. And last?"

She could have said Reza was her last name. She could've said she didn't have a middle name.

"Pevensie." She said hoarsely, palms clammy and thinking of wood carved rings and a majestic ship and wavy dark hair and pale skin. "My last name is Pevensie."

Lilith glanced up as a rather shaken looking Sanya approached the table.

“Everything alright?” She queried, scanning around for what might’ve gotten to her friend.

“I’m fine.” She replied, clearly not so, but the older girl decided not to press further. “Have you had any luck?”

“Not yet.” Lilith replied, spreading the papers out that could be of help.

“Finding the- incident was fine last time, it was the tracking down of Susan that-“

Oh.
Oh, Catherine.
Lilith’s mind flashed to the tall, pretty brunette, two of the most adorable toddlers she’d ever seen babbling at her feet.
She whipped out her phone, searching- but Cat’s number- all their emails and texts- even her Facebook page-
Gone.
Was that technically MORE murders on her hands- or didn’t it count? Seeing as now they’d never existed.

"Maybe you should go look in the comp-computers." Sanya said, sitting down. "I'll look over these papers, I might catch things better."

"Alright." Lilith got up, before looking back hurriedly. "Are you SURE you're alright, Reza?"

Sanya was startled at the sudden last name. "As well as I can be expected. Bye now."

It was another hour, and the Pevensies joining her until Sanya found something.
It was a newspaper report, of August 12th 1945, detailing the incident of a train accident at Scarborough, where 15 people died, including four orphaned children, and their close friend from India. Another friend, an American, survived with few injuries, though he was never able to write with his left arm after that.
Peter, Susan, Edmund and Susan Pevensie, Sanya Reza and Peter Parker were the names written in the paper.
It was a familiar sight. The inked names in the ‘tragedy’ report.
It was the date that made Lilith feel worse, however, as they stood in a small crowd, gathered round the table.
Three years too soon.
“The archives were too- I got confused. But there’s an app you can use, you can track descendants with it, find family trees etc... It’s in my phone, we can do it wherever. We can leave.” Lilith spoke quietly, ignoring her emotions- something that she WOULDN’T be able to do if they stood and stared at the article for much longer.