Chapter 374: Welcome Unwelcome Surprise

My phone buzzes while Rhayne is still putting Arthur’s letter back in the envelope.

For a second I think about ignoring it.

My head already has enough material to ruin the rest of the day, and any new message risks adding another name to the list of people who seem to know more about my life than I do.

Then I see the sender.

MASTERS SERIES CORP.

The message didn’t come directly from Shaw. It’s a short document, formatted like an internal report, probably pulled from some department that answers Garen’s questions without asking why he wants the answer.

MASTERS SERIES CORP. — EXECUTIVE RESEARCH OFFICE

Requester: Mr. Sands

Subject: Halcyon Civic Development / 921 Acacia Street / Esmeralda Quarter / District 3

Property: former Esmeralda Children’s Home

Executing creditor: Halcyon Civic Development

Parent company: Stardeep Company

Financial status: The institution accumulated secured debt against the property following repeated missed payments. Renegotiation attempts did not reach an agreement.

Execution: Approximately six months ago, Halcyon Civic Development foreclosed on the debt and formally took possession of the property.

Status of the institution: Dissolved after loss of the property. No institutional transfer was recorded.

Intended use of the property: Demolition of the existing structure. Residential project approved for later construction on the lot.

Residents: No public or private relocation program linked to the dissolution was located. Some residents held active Diver registration and stopped appearing regularly in terrestrial civil records after the closure. The remaining civilian residents were released from the institution with no recorded housing referral.

Staff: Contracts terminated during the dissolution process.

Note: Corporate documentation and additional foreclosure records available on request.

By the time I finish reading, it’s hard to keep the disgust off my face.

Rhayne finishes putting the envelope inside a small box she found in the room and notices my expression.

"Is that about the orphanage?"

"Yeah. It is."

She stands there staring at nothing.

I go back to the foreclosure date. I look down the corridor through the open door and think about the calendar still stuck to the kitchen refrigerator.

The two things fit.

The last recorded routine ends around the same time Halcyon took the property. It doesn’t prove every detail of the story, but it confirms we weren’t looking at a coincidence created by casual neglect.

And at least in this case, it rules out another worry.

This happened before I had any influence that could have brought the place down.

The debt already existed.

Halcyon was already in position to foreclose.

By the time I started moving pieces in my second life, the process that would destroy that orphanage was already running without me.

’This time I didn’t break something. I just arrived late enough to find the wreckage.’

"What happened?" Rhayne asks.

I put the phone away for a moment and look for a less cruel way to say it, but I know there isn’t one.

"The orphanage owed Halcyon money. The property was the collateral. They couldn’t pay, they tried to renegotiate, and the company foreclosed on the debt."

Rhayne doesn’t react right away.

"So... they bought it?"

"They took it legally. It’s a little different on paper and exactly the same thing when you’re on the inside."

She looks around the room.

"And what are they going to do here?"

"Tear everything down."

Her eyes come back to me.

"Looks like they’re building new apartments."

Rhayne lets the air out slowly.

I move a little closer before continuing.

"There was no change of address."

She understands where the conversation is going before I finish.

"And the children?"

"Some of them were Divers."

"I know."

"Their records practically vanish after the place closed. If I had to bet, they went to Thirstfall."

Rhayne presses Arthur’s envelope against the box.

"And the others?"

That answer is heavier.

"They were released from the institution with no recorded housing referral."

She keeps looking at me.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning they were put out on the street."

Rhayne’s mouth opens slightly.

She turns her face toward the covered window, as if she expects to find some explanation outside. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t ask how anyone lets a group of children walk out of an orphanage with nowhere to sleep.

Maybe she knows the answer better than I do.

After a while, all she says is:

"I thought so..."

I look at her.

Rhayne runs her eyes over the room again.

"If they’d moved... there’d be something. An address. A notice on the door. A sign. Anything for whoever came back."

There wasn’t.

Only a chain across the entrance and a sign announcing that the property now belonged to someone else.

Rhayne sits on the bed, which makes it easier for me to keep going.

"Take whatever you want to bring."

She looks at me.

"What?"

"Clothes, shoes, documents, anything of yours that’s still good. Whatever fits in a backpack."

"Why?"

"Because we’re leaving here soon."

Rhayne looks at the corridor, then back at me.

"To go where?"

"District 4."

She seems to be waiting for the rest.

"You’re staying with me."

Her expression changes immediately.

"Today?"

"Starting today."

"Den..."

"Don’t start."

"But I can’t just show up at your family’s house."

"It’s an apartment."

"That doesn’t make a difference, stop stalling."

I shrug.

"It’s small. My mother lives with me, my sister too. And now you stay there until you find another place."

She stares at me like she’s trying to work out at what point in the conversation she was given a vote.

"You didn’t even ask your mother."

"Technically, I’m still going to ask her."

"After taking me there?"

"I’m optimizing steps."

Rhayne closes her eyes for a moment.

"Den."

"What?"

"This is high-handed."

"You just walked into a condemned property with me after I tore a chain off a post."

"That was also pushy."

"Then at least I’m being consistent. What do you expect from me? To leave you on the street, like those kids? Do you have money for a sandwich, or are you going to go hungry and sleep outside for these four days? Please. Just listen to me."

She tries to stay serious and doesn’t quite manage it. The corner of her mouth moves into almost a smile.

"I can look for somewhere."

"You can. Just not on this Reentry."

Rhayne frowns.

"Today you came back to Earth after more than eight months, found out your orphanage is gone, that the people from it were scattered who knows where, and that your mentor left an impossible letter in your bedroom. I think shopping around for charity can wait until a second reentry."

She lowers her eyes.

I keep going before she turns this into an argument about whether she deserves help.

"Besides, it makes sense for us to stay close. When we go back to Thirstfall, we can coordinate the next Dive together. You don’t have to cross half the district every time something changes."

Rhayne runs her tongue over her lips, still uncomfortable.

"I don’t want to be a burden on your mother."

"My mother will be a lot more bothered if she finds out I let a seventeen-year-old girl sleep on the street after picking her up from a clinic."

"I’m nineteen."

"In Thirstfall’s existential accounting, not on your ID."

She looks at me.

"It counts the same."

"Try explaining that to a civil registry."

The silence lasts a few seconds.

Finally she nods.

"Only until I find something."

"Of course."

I have no intention of arguing about deadlines right now.

Rhayne starts deciding what’s worth taking.

Most of the clothes survived better than I expected.

The room stayed closed and dry, so the bigger problem is dust, not damp. Rhayne opens drawers, sets aside a few shirts, two pairs of pants, and underwear still in packaging. Some of the fabric probably picked up the smell of abandonment and will need washing before it goes anywhere near a human body, but nothing a machine can’t fix.

She finds two pairs of shoes under the bed. One still fits well. The other she looks at for a few seconds and puts back.

"Too small?"

"I think my foot grew."

"Your foot learned attribute progression. Rank evolution improves your body on Earth too."

"You’re laughing, but my clothes feel a little different as well."

"The system turned you into a threat to the women’s sizing industry."

She ignores that.

Inside the small box there are a few objects that clearly matter more to her than any clothing. A plain bracelet. Old photographs. Two documents. An expired child identification card. A small metal piece with no obvious function, which she examines before setting it next to Arthur’s letter.

I don’t ask.

She takes only what she wants.

Rhayne lived here for years, and when she finally comes back, everything that’s left fits in one backpack.

Maybe that’s what happens when someone spends too long in Thirstfall. We learn to value the emotional things, because here we have time to feel. You learn that property is whatever can keep you sane when you need to run.

We find a black backpack at the back of the closet. It’s in good shape once the dust is off. Rhayne puts the folded clothes inside, fits the letter between them, and tries to close the zipper.

She has to sit on the backpack to manage it.

I watch.

"Elegant."

"Shut up."

She forces the zipper the rest of the way and then puts the backpack on.

Her body immediately tilts a little.

Rhayne makes a strange face.

"Wow."

"Weight. Revolutionary technology."

She adjusts the straps.

"Having an inventory for more than two years makes this much more uncomfortable than I remembered."

I laugh.

"You forgot objects have mass?"

"No. I forgot I’d have to feel their mass for twenty minutes."

"That’s the premium Earth experience."

She takes a few steps around the room, testing it.

"This is horrible."

"You’ll survive."

"In Thirstfall I carried weapons, food, equipment, and half of everything we found without feeling a thing."

"And here you were defeated by half a dozen folded shirts."

Rhayne shoots me an irritated look, but she’s smiling when she walks past me.

Before leaving, she stops at the door.

She looks at the room one last time.

I don’t say anything.

After a few seconds, she simply closes the door.

Out on the street, the light feels stronger after so long inside the building.

Rhayne goes through the gap in the fence and waits while I put the chain back in a way that fools nobody. The broken bracket is still broken, but at least the access isn’t wide open for some curious kid to walk in and discover a beam coming down on their head.

We head back to the station.

The backpack bothers Rhayne more than she’d like to admit. She shifts one strap twice, and near the bus stop she finally hands it over to me for a few minutes without my having to offer.

I let her try. I knew that if I offered, she’d refuse. So I carry her backpack the rest of the way.

The bus to District 4 arrives after a while.

We find two seats together near the middle of the vehicle. Rhayne sits by the window and watches District 3 disappear while I go back, in my head, to the letter.

Arthur Lancaster.

Alden Sands.

My great friend.

The phrase keeps getting worse the more I think about it.

My mother knew my father before I existed. She lived with him. Shared a house, a pregnancy, money problems, and the beginning of his life as a Diver. If Arthur really was as close to Alden as he claimed, there’s a chance she knows the name.

Maybe she knows the Lancasters.

Maybe Arthur came to the house.

Maybe my father mentioned that family before his last Dive and I was simply too young to remember.

I need to ask.

Not only about Arthur.

I want to know whether Alden had friends who disappeared around the same time, whether he ever talked about anyone connected to espionage, whether my mother saw letters, calls, anything that could link the man who trained Rhayne to the man held in the Deep Asylum.

Rhayne notices I’ve gone quiet.

"You’re thinking about the letter."

"I am."

"Are you going to ask your mother?"

I look at her.

"Everything she knows. Arthur, the Lancasters, whether my father talked about him before the last Dive. Maybe she’s never heard the name."

Rhayne nods.

"If they were best friends, that’s strange."

"My father apparently had an enormous talent for hiding entire pieces of his own life."

She looks out the window again.

"Arthur too."

That ends the conversation for a few minutes.

The bus crosses the District 4 line.

I recognize more and more in the landscape. Streets that used to bother me carry a different feeling now. They’re still poor. There’s still broken concrete, patched plumbing, worn facades, and advertising promising ways out to people who can’t afford to buy them.

But my mother is here.

Lili is here.

My home still exists.

I look at Rhayne and notice the irony.

She came back to find a home that disappeared.

I came back and found mine waiting.

Maybe that’s why I never considered another option. I want her to feel at home, even if it isn’t hers.

We get off a few hours later. It’s already late at night. I check the time and it’s close to 00:21.

Rhayne looks at the building from a distance as we get closer.

"You live there?"

"Unfortunately."

"It doesn’t look bad."

"You’re coming from a condemned building. Your standards are compromised."

She rolls her eyes.

We climb the stairs.

On the second flight, Rhayne asks for her backpack again and goes strangely quiet.

It doesn’t take me long to understand.

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"Right."

"I’m just thinking."

"Nervously."

She tightens her grip on the strap.

"Does your mother know I’m coming?"

"She knows I went to get someone important in District 3."

Rhayne almost imperceptibly trips on a step.

"You said it like that?"

"I did."

She looks at me.

"Den..."

"What?"

"Why did you say it like that?"

"Because it was true."

She seems to decide there’s no safe answer and keeps climbing.

We reach the apartment corridor.

Rhayne stops near the door.

"Are you sure?"

"I’m sure."

"She might not like it."

"My mother is going to like you."

"You can’t know that."

"She likes practically everyone who doesn’t try to kill her children."

"That’s a very low bar."

"We’re in District 4, Rhayne."

I take out the key.

Before I put it in the lock, I look at the backpack, then at her.

"Now that I think about it..."

Rhayne is immediately suspicious.

"What?"

"You’re arriving with your clothes, you’re going to live with me, and you’re about to meet my mother."

She takes a second.

"And?"

"All that’s missing is the ring."

The reaction is instant.

Her face goes red to the ears.

"Den!"

I laugh.

"I’m joking."

"Don’t joke about things like that!"

"Okay, okay."

"Seriously."

"Understood."

Still smiling, I put the key in the door.

Rhayne is still red.

When I open the door, the sound of the television arrives first.

Then some noise from the kitchen and Lili’s incomprehensible voice, probably arguing international politics with a toy.

"Mom?"

"Den?"

My mother appears in the living room a few seconds later.

First she looks at me.

Then she notices Rhayne coming in behind me.

The reaction is immediate.

Her eyes move over the silver hair with its lilac tone, over Rhayne’s face, over the backpack on her shoulders, and come back to me. For some reason, she goes completely still.

"Mom, this is Rhayne."

Rhayne makes a small motion with her head.

"Hello, Mrs. Sands."

My mother keeps staring.

I don’t have time to interpret it.

"The orphanage where she lived closed while she was in Thirstfall. She came back today and has nowhere to stay. I wanted to ask if she can spend some time here with us, at least until she finds another place. We’ll probably do the next Dive together too, so it makes things easier."

Silence.

My mother looks at Rhayne.

Then at me.

Back to Rhayne.

Her mouth opens.

But no words come out.