You open your mouth to explain to Iosefka before your instincts, fine-tuned through decades of child care, stop you. Children have a near-supernatural ability to overhear things they weren't meant to and be where they're not supposed to be. They also tend to move in packs and coordinate their actions surprisingly well despite limited communication ability.
They're kinda like velociraptors that way.
"Where are the girls right now?" you ask her.
"They're in the den. Emma just woke up. Why?"
You turn to your avian compatriot. "Would ye mind givin' Doctor Iosefka the rundown? I'm gonna go check on 'em and introduce myself ta Emma."
She looks at you oddly, but seems to catch on before you're forced to try to communicate your intentions via expressive eyebrow waggling. Iosefka seems puzzled as well, though she lets you through without voicing any objections.
The furnishings are spartan and homely, though well-maintained despite their obvious age. A pot of what smells like tea boils in a tiny kitchen and a lumpy sofa, covered in a hodgepodge of blankets, dominates much of the area near the staircase. Said sofa is currently occupied by the two children you're looking for.
Fiddle is sitting closer to you, nursing a cup of tea and watching you. On the other end sits her sister, who by process of elimination must be Emma. Where Fiddle is almost a carbon copy of her mother, Emma takes after Gascoigne. She's tall and broad for (what you assume to be) her age, with a strong jaw and matted blonde hair reaching nearly down to her shoulders. Both wear gray blouses and dresses; Fiddle's blouse looks a little loose on her, so you assume it's a hand-me-down. A big white ribbon sits proudly on her chest.
"Good ta see ye again, Fiddle. And you must be Emma. I don't know if the doctor mentioned it, but I'm Father Alexander Anderson. It's a pleasure ta-"
"Did you find our mother?"
Aaaaand there goes your momentum. You open and close your mouth for a moment as Emma scrutinizes her words' impact. Fiddle looks down and sips at her tea, avoiding eye contact.
You sigh. You've been in this game long enough to know when something's not salvageable. Emma's eyes are boring into you like a tungsten drill.
"Could I trouble ye for some tea?"
Emma nods and rises to her feet. You look back towards the entrance as she makes her way towards the kettle. By the time she returns with a sizable cup, Eileen and an ashen-faced Iosefka have made their way in and sat down on the sofa. You take a sip, dragging out the moment for as long as possible.
They're all looking at you.
"We found yer father near Oedon Chapel. Your mother had been following him, and she ran into a beast. She didn't make it."
Emma bites her lip, gripping her dress with some force. Fiddle just curls in on herself, trembling in spite of the steaming cup in her hands.
"Yer father was...yer father was very ill. And after what happened ta yer mother, his illness got the better of him. I'm sorry."
You reach into your sleeves and produce Gascoigne's silver pendant. Taking your cue, Eileen retrieves Viola's lovely brooch. That proves the breaking point for Fiddle, who begins sniffling as her sister moves to comfort her, fighting off tears herself. You watch, unsure of how to proceed, as they cling to each other so tightly you're afraid they might shatter.
Eileen gets to her feet and, without a word, embraces them. Iosefka is slower to react, but moves over on the couch to stroke Fiddle's hair.
You give them their moment. You're an outsider, after all.
After what feels like a long while, Eileen releases her grip, pausing to ensure that the girls are alright with her doing so. Both of them are struggling to maintain their composure and Iosefka is offering them tissues as needed. You straighten up.
"Where I come from, we follow a God who is all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-loving. Those who are good and kind, like yer mother and father, will walk alongside Him for eternity in paradise. They will be with you and watch over you at His side to the end of days. One day, ye'll see them again."
You clench your fists.
"But not now. Not soon. I swear ta you, in the name of the LORD, that no harm shall come ta ye. I will protect ye both, this I promise."
Fiddle looks up at you with puffy eyes.
"You won't leave?"
"I have ta stop the people responsible for all this. But I will always be there when ye need me."
She sniffs and nods her head. Emma looks up from her and locks eyes with you.
"Is that true? About God?"
"Every word."
You're not sure if she buys it as she resumes fixing her sister's rumpled blouse. Maybe, you hope, this is the hard part.
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