Chapter 145: Memory Recorder (2)

"You know she's going to wake up if you keep doing that."

The man looked up toward whoever was recording, his lips curving into a soft smile beneath the subtle beard that now shadowed his jaw.

"She sleeps like you."

The woman made an offended sound.

"Excuse me?"

"Through everything."

"I do not."

He lifted one eyebrow, his fingers continuing their slow path through the toddler's hair.

"Elara, you slept through an avalanche warning."

Then there was a pause, then the woman replied with absolute seriousness, "It was a very quiet warning."

The man's laugh was soon heard from the recording.

Misha stumbled one step toward the projection.

Astrid was startled. "Misha?"

She barely heard her. Her hand had already risen before she understood what she meant to do with it.

Touch him? Grab him? Stop the recording? She did not know. All she knew was that the sound coming from that little yellow orb had reached backward across thirty-five years and torn open something she had spent most of her adult life pretending had scarred over properly.

Her brother had laughed like that whenever their mother threatened to smack him with whatever cooking utensil happened to be the nearest. He laughed like that the first time Misha came home from school furious because somebody had called her short, only for Mateo to place one hand on top of her head and inform her, with great seriousness, that she still had several centimeters left in her if she believed hard enough.

She had forgotten the exact sound. That realization hurt almost as much as hearing it again.

She had remembered his face, his voice, pieces of conversations, but somewhere over the years, his laugh had faded. And now, it was here, real and recorded.

The image continued while Misha stood frozen in front of it.

Little Astrid stirred against Mateo's chest, one tiny hand had opened against his shirt before curling again, and her brother immediately lowered his voice.

"See? Now you're waking her up."

"You're the one talking."

"You started the conversation."

The woman behind the recorder laughed again.

Mateo looked down at his daughter, the teasing left his face so naturally that Misha's chest tightened. His smile softened rather than disappearing completely, and the creases near his eyes eased as his entire attention settled on the sleeping child. He brushed several strands of hair away from Astrid's forehead with one side of his finger.

Misha knew that gesture too. He had always been careful with children, with her, and with Caleb.

When Misha fell asleep at the dining table with her textbooks spread beneath her face, Mateo would move the books first so she would not wake with printed letters stamped into her cheek. When she fell asleep on the couch, he would pull the blanket over her without waking her.

She had once thought those small things were permanent. That her brothers simply existed, that they would always be somewhere nearby, being annoying, stealing food, making terrible jokes, and showing up when they were needed.

"She's growing fast…" Mateo murmured.

"That happens to children, Mateo."

He smiled faintly without looking up, but there was something quieter in it now. "I just want enough time."

"For what?"

Mateo did not answer right away as his fingers stopped in Astrid's hair. Then he said, "Everything."

The recording shook slightly, perhaps because Elara had changed her grip.

"She'll have you…" he softly said.

The woman behind the recorder went silent for a second. Then, softly, "And you."

Mateo's smile weakened, not enough that someone who did not know him would necessarily notice. His lips remained curved, but the warmth in his eyes dimmed. His gaze moved away from the recorder toward something outside the frame, and for one brief second, he looked tired and burdened.

Then, young Astrid made a small noise in her sleep and curled closer against her father's chest.

Mateo looked down, and whatever heaviness had entered his eyes disappeared almost immediately. His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled fondly as his daughter pressed her cheek against his chest.

"Look at that, she likes me more."

"Give her to me."

"No."

"Mateo."

He turned his body away from the reaching hand coming into frame.

"Find your own child."

"I made that one!"

The projection shook as Elara apparently tried to reach around him, while he twisted farther away with Astrid held carefully against his chest. He was still laughing when the image suddenly dissolved into static. Then, the recording reset.

Misha could not move as her vision blurred badly enough that she could no longer make out the smaller details of his face. Her hand rose, and this time, she reached all the way forward until light broke around her hand before knitting itself back together.

For one humiliating second, some irrational part of her had expected him to be solid. She withdrew her hand quickly and it trembled.

"Misha?" Astrid had stood.

Misha heard her now, but distantly.

"T-that's…" Her throat closed so she swallowed hard. "That's my brother…"

Astrid went completely still, her green eyes widened. "What?"

Misha finally turned toward her. Tears had already gathered in her eyes before she realized they were there. For once, she did not care. There was no mask thick enough for this.

"That man…" her voice cracked halfway through the words."Your father… That's my brother."

Astrid stared at her, then at the recording, then back at her. Her lips parted, but nothing came out at first. She swallowed, then continued, "A-Are you sure?"

Misha stared at her and for one second, the question almost offended her. Then, she understood. Of course Astrid needed proof.

She wiped at her tears with the back of one hand. "Am I sure?"

Her laugh broke strangely in her throat, then she turned toward her once more. Misha's heart had begun hammering again.

"His brother, his Tower Name is," she paused as her mouth had gone dry, but she went on, "The One and Only Shadow Monarch–"

"Devourer of Light and Shadow," Astrid finished.

"I'm their sister..."

Everything stopped as Misha stared at her, and Astrid stared back. Neither woman moved.

Misha felt her knees weaken as her heartbeat thundered painfully against her chest. She turned back toward the projection and forced herself to keep watching.

Whatever had happened before or after this moment, Mateo had been genuinely happy here. The smile Misha remembered slowly disappearing from her brother's face after their parents died had returned, softer and easier now, while he was with his wife and daughter.

For at least one moment, Mateo had not looked like the man trying to keep what remained of their family. He had simply looked happy.

Misha should have been happy for him. She was his sister after all. She should have seen that image and felt relieved that somewhere beyond the years they had lost, Mateo found something good. He had found a woman he loved, he became a father, he built a home somewhere so high in the Tower.

Instead, something inside her chest tightened until breathing hurt. The feeling was ugly enough that she did not immediately understand it.

She stared at Mateo's face on the projection.

'Did you remember me?'

The question came before she could stop it, making her throat tighten again.

Of course he had remembered her. That was stupid. People did not simply forget a sister because enough time had passed.

But… thirty-five years was a long time. It was long enough for someone to stop waiting, and long enough to decide that the people left behind were probably never coming back.

Had Mateo searched for her? Or had there been a point where he finally accepted that his younger sister was dead?

Misha's fingers curled tightly against her palms.

Maybe he had mourned her. Maybe he had eventually stopped saying her name because it hurt too much. Or maybe… maybe when Astrid was born, Mateo had looked at his daughter and decided he could not keep living for ghosts.

That should not have hurt. If anything, Misha should have wanted that for him. She should have wanted Mateo to move forward, to laugh again. So… So why did some small, shameful part of her feel like she had been left behind?

Her stomach twisted. 'What the hell is wrong with me?'

Mateo had suffered too. She knew that for sure after what she experienced inside this Tower. He had been the oldest, and he had been the one expected to keep everything together when there had been nothing left to hold. And here, finally, was proof that he had found something beyond their broken family.

She should have been grateful, instead, all Misha could think about were the years she had missed. She had too many questions to ask, about him, and Caleb.

The answer was standing right beside her. Instead, panic rose so suddenly that she nearly choked on it.

She couldn't bring herself to ask, not while the questions were still tearing through her too quickly to separate one from another, and definitely not while there was a chance Astrid might answer something Misha was not ready to hear.

"Misha? He never mentioned you."

The imagined words alone made her chest seize. She hated herself for being afraid of that.

"Misha?" Astrid's voice finally reached her.

The girl was still standing beside the bed, staring at her with the same stunned disbelief. Her eyes were wide, and her lips had parted as though she had started several different sentences and abandoned all of them.

Then, Misha's gaze fell on the mask. For the first time, she desperately wanted it.

"Misha?"

"I need some time." Her voice sounded wrong. It was too tight, and too controlled.

After wearing the mask, she turned before Astrid could answer.

"Misha, wait–"

But she was already through the door.