“Nervous?” Eamon teased.

“You wish,” Neve retorted, hiding her shaking hands. The familiar-but-not roads filled her heart with warmth and dread. 

“No shame in it.”

“I’m not nervous, Commander.” 

“I was when they let me go home.”

“Good thing I’m not you. I’m sure you got nervous when they asked you what tie color you wanted.” 

They passed by the house of a boy who used to rub mud into her hair. By the time she got home, it had hardened into a wild mess. Her mother was not foul-mouthed, but she had always cursed up a storm when she combed through the disaster. It wouldn’t be such work now that her hair was short. 

Neve wasn’t nervous; she was scared. She knew her mother would never forget her, but she wasn’t the same girl that left. She wanted to walk into her mother’s arms and wipe everything she’s done from her mind. In that hug, she wouldn’t be Officer Usoro. She was desperate to be Neve. Despite her powerful desire, a small voice in the recesses of her mind told her that her mother wouldn’t be able to separate the two. It terrified her.

Eamon sighed, “Why are teenagers so mean? I miss when you were quiet and polite.”

“If you wanted me to stay quiet and polite, you should’ve disciplined me better.” Unlike all the other commanding officers, Eamon had never raised a hand against her. He encouraged her to question him and her orders, not that the questioning changed anything. He had said that mindless drones were boring.

“I doubt I could’ve smacked the impertinence out of you.”

“Never hurts to try.”

Eamon shook his head, his shoulders trembling with muffled laughter. At the sight of his amusement, a smile spread Neve’s face, and she felt a sense of pride. He replied, “Don’t tempt me.”

“A hit from an old man like you wouldn’t even hurt.” Her response was pure bluff, and they both knew it. Eamon could knock her out without even trying. His large frame intimidated those above and below him.

He rolled his eyes, calling for the coach to stop. “We’re here.”

Neve surveyed the house they stopped in front of. Her mother was in there. While she would’ve liked to see her old home, there was another part of her that knew the nostalgia would have crushed her. Neve said, “It looks nice. Smaller than the last place.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Eamon’s eyes bored into the side of her head. 

“I don’t need you to hold my hand. She’s family.”

“Give it long enough and anyone can become a stranger.”

“Know that first-hand?” She made the mistake of looking at him. His kind eyes and closed-mouthed smile reminded her too much of happier times. Flashes of an absent man flickered through her mind. Dressed in the inverse of the colors she wore. She wondered if her mother still had his sword.

“Just remember that she loves you.”

“I know that.” She hesitated before asking, “Do you think that she would if she knew?”

Eamon’s large hand rested on the top of her head. “She knew what you were doing the second you left that house all those years ago.”

“Oh,” The garbled sound was ripped from her throat, “I see.”

“I’ll be back tonight.” He gently pushed her out the coach. “Don’t waste the time you have.”

Neve nodded, stumbling onto the gravel walkway. Behind her, she heard the coach riding back to the station. The short path to the door seemed eons away. She took a deep, stabilizing breath. She walked to the door and knocked on it three times. Waiting had never been so tedious, but the door opened. 

“Hello?” a small voice called.

Neve looked down to see a young girl. The girl couldn’t have been older than seven, and she wore her hair in cute pigtails. “Who are you?”

“I’m Emilia!” she shouted, excited about her introduction. “I turned six yesterday!”

“That’s nice.” Neve didn’t know what else to say to the little girl. Had Eamon gotten the wrong house? While Emilia still looked excited, she felt a little awkward. 

“Emilia! What have I said about opening the door?” Her mother’s voice floated down from the stairs. Neve inspected Emilia, running her eyes over every feature. The eyes and the nose were foreign, but she saw her mother in the girl’s lips and chin. A fleeting resemblance at best, yet it was there nonetheless. 

Her mother descended the staircase, and she knew that those footsteps meant trouble. The paling of Emilia’s face said that the girl knew it as well. Emilia called, “Sorry, momma!”

“Just don’t do it again.” Her mother’s stern tone shifted to apologetic once she reached the floor, “I’m so sorry about my daughter. Did you need something?”

All the words Neve had rehearsed jammed in her throat, so she simply said, “Hello.”

Her mother paused in her tracks, raising a hand to her mouth. The woman’s eyes roved over Neve. She took careful steps forward. “Neve? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” 

Her mother ran forward, sweeping Neve into a tight hug. Tears streamed down both of their faces. The tension and fear that had been resting on Neve’s shoulders melted away. How could she have doubted her mother’s hugs? Their embrace stretched on until Emilia tugged on her mother’s skirts. 

“Momma? Who’s that?”

Her, Neve corrected herself, their mother replied, “This is your sister, Neve”

Neve crouched to look at Emilia in her eyes, the position reminded her of when Eamon arrived at their door. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Momma never said I had a sister.”

“She didn’t?” The extinguished doubts came back full force. 

“I’m sure I have,” her mother fretted, “Neve, why don’t you come in? I’ll get us all some tea.”

She was ushered inside the house and steered into the living room. None of the furniture was familiar, but she had expected that. They were old when she was young; they wouldn’t have lasted for nine more years. She sat down on one of the sofas, glancing around the room.  It didn’t take long to notice that there weren’t any pictures of her and her mother on the walls. However, she reasoned that they must be somewhere else in the house.

Emilia hopped up next to her. The little girl kicked her legs against the sofa and said, “I’ve always wanted a sister.”

“I’ve never really thought about it.”

“I have, a lot. How old are you? The older kids don’t let me play with them, but you would, wouldn’t you?”

“I’m sixteen, and I would love to play with you. What do you like to play?”  

“Sixteen, that’s so old! I always play soldier, but we can play what you want. Momma said that I have to nice to guests.”

Neve had been smiling during the conversation, but the smile froze when she was called a guest. It hurt to admit that Emilia was right to call her one. She hadn’t had a home for nine years. 

Their mother came into the room with tea balanced on a tray. She said, “Don’t chat Neve’s ear off, Emilia.”

“We’re talking, momma.” The sheer exasperation in the girl’s voice caused Neve’s smile to unfreeze. Her mother had two bull-headed daughters. What odds.

“I know, baby. But you don’t always let others get a word in.”

“It’s okay,” Neve assured, “Emilia was a perfect conversation partner.”

“Thank you.” The victorious expression she shot their mother made Neve giggle.

“Okay, okay,” their mother chuckled, setting the tray down on the table. 

Neve took a cup. The last time she had tea was when she had poisoned an earl from Bolodalo. Neve knew her mother would never poison her, but that didn’t stop her from inspecting the tea. Her mother noticed and asked, “Do you not like that kind? I swore you did.”

“No, I do. I just thought I saw something in it, but it was my imagination.”

“There was once a wasp in my tea,” Emilia commented.

“Yeah,” their mother sighed, “I remember that. Your father almost had a heart attack.”

When their mother leaned forward, her necklace fell into the open. Neve tilted her head to get a better look at it. Instead of the matching necklace to her own, a different one hung in its place. There was only one chain around their mother’s neck. Turning to Emilia, she spotted an identical one around the little girl’s neck. 

Neve set the teacup down gently and said, “I have to use the bathroom.”

“Down the hall. The first door on the right.”

She walked to the right room and locked herself inside. She looked into the mirror, pulling her necklace from inside her shirt. She clutched it in trembling fingers. Her mother had taken off the necklace, removed pictures of her from the house, and refrained from talking about her. It was like she hadn’t even existed. She bet Emilia’s father’s didn’t know about her either. How long had it taken her mother to erase Neve? 

How long had it taken for Neve to become a stranger to her?

Neve’s nails dug into her hand. It wasn’t fair. She had thought about this moment for years, dreamt of seeing her mother again. It seemed her mother hadn’t done the same. The woman had a new life, a new family without her. She tucked the necklace back into her shirt and unclenched her hand. Crescent marks scored her palm, and droplets of blood welled from the indents. 

She exited the bathroom, returning to her mother and Emilia. For the rest of the visit, Neve withdrew into herself. Her mother must have noticed the change, but she didn’t address it. Emilia didn’t know any better, carrying the conversation. Eamon had told her not to squander her time, but she was too upset to care. Although regret already pulled at the back of her mind, she ignored it.  

When she heard the stagecoach pull up, Neve rose from her seat. “It’s been great talking to you two, but I have to leave.”

Their mother frowned, “You’re leaving so soon?”

“Unfortunately.”

They walked with her to the door. Before she left, Emilia asked, “Will you come back? We never got to play.”

“Of course.” A tentative truth.

“It was good to see you,” their mother said. She swept Neve into another hug. Unlike the one from earlier, this one wasn’t as comforting. She couldn’t deny the warmth, but it was tinged with something hollow. She pulled from the embrace with a small smile, which her mother returned. 

She approached the coach with heavy steps. The day weighed on her mind. She turned, seeing her mother and Emilia waving goodbye. She gave her own before climbing into the coach. Eamon grunted at her in greeting. 

He asked, “Did you have a good time?”

“It was okay.”

“Not what you were hoping for?”

Neve shook her head, “It was different.”

“It always is.” Eamon knocked on the divider, signaling for the coach to start. “I’m sure it gets easier with time.”

“You said that you were nervous before you visited your family for the first time. What happened?”

Eamon glanced over at her, a sad smile painted on his face. “There’s not much to say.”

“Tell me anyway?”

“Well,” the large man heaved a great sigh, “When I got there, nobody was home.”

“Why?”

“Because they were all dead. There was a viral outbreak of the pox before you were born, and it took my whole family.”

Neve laid a hand on the man’s back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It happened a long time ago.” Despite his words, she heard a quiver in his voice.

“Can you tell me what they were like?”

Eamon shook his head. “I can barely remember. Sometimes all I can see are faceless memories.”

“It’s okay. Tell me what you know.”

He turned to her with glistening eyes and said, “My father was the town doctor, and everybody loved him.” 

Neve listened to his stories until the man’s voice went hoarse from overuse. Even then, he continued on, remembering all of the things he thought he forgot. She stayed silent. When he finally quieted, she said, “I want to leave.”

He replied, “You can’t.”

“I know.”