Davis let out a heavy sigh before crossing his arms. "Jesse's just an old friend of mine. There's no need to pay him that much thought."

Frankly, I didn’t care to learn more about the man beyond how to go about avoiding him. It seemed that with just one fatal piece of information, my entire plan of never seeing him again had fizzled. Of course, he had to be Davis' 'friend'.

“Jesse Callisto… why does that sound familiar?” Alfred mused aloud, slowly rubbing his chin when his eyes suddenly widened with disbelief. He snapped his head towards Davis, shooting him an incredulous stare. "Wait, Callisto? As in the Callisto Banking Corporation? He’s that Jesse Callisto?”

So it seemed that this 'Jesse' was someone of significance in the city. That certainly wasn’t the initial impression I had of him while he was bleeding out in front of me. But if that was the case, surely he had more important priorities rather than bothering me so frequently.

“Yes, his family does own the nation’s largest bank. Very impressive, I know,” Davis said with a tinge of sarcasm. For some reason, he seemed rather unamused by Alfred's shock.

“Isn’t he the current head of the business? How the hell does someone like you know someone like him?”

“And what's that supposed to mean?” Davis questioned, appearing somewhat offended by the way the question was phrased. "If you had to know, we've known each other since we were children. We met through our families and I've been stuck with him since. We attended the same boarding school and university. We even got shoved into the same army unit during the war."

That explanation only puzzled Alfred even more as he raised an eyebrow. “He was a soldier? I would’ve thought those rich folks would’ve tried evading conscription.”

Davis shrugged. “Try telling that to him, he’s just too damn proud and stubborn to do that sort of thing. He actually enlisted soon after I did.”

He really did that?

I couldn’t imagine why someone would voluntarily put themselves in that situation if they could’ve avoided it. If anything, he should’ve evaded conscription if he didn’t want to end up almost dying in a ditch. That would’ve at least been more convenient for both of us.

However, I didn’t realise I’d said the first part aloud until Davis’ focus shifted towards me.

“Jesse might not look like it, but he does have a pretty good shot and thought it might help him last longer. Besides, he knew it'd be dishonourable to evade the draft, and he isn't the type to bring shame to his family's image.”

“Hang on, that still doesn’t explain how you know him,” Alfred interjected as he pointed his finger straight at me. "You've barely been here a couple of weeks and somehow you already know one of the richest men in the city.”

He said it as though I wanted to cross paths with him. I didn’t. Actively trying to seek him out wasn’t my intent. It more or less felt like someone was forcing him towards me without consulting me first. If that were the case, I would’ve shot that person in the head for doing so.

“I met him outside a bar. He initiated the conversation,” I lied, being mindful to keep my expression neutral. “I believe he was mildly inebriated.”

“Well, that sounds like him,” Davis said, pinching the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh. “You wouldn't believe the amount of times he asks me to go out drinking with him.”

And that was enough evidence for me to now suspect that Jesse might've actually been an alcoholic, just one in denial.

“I still can’t believe you never told us about knowing someone like him,” Alfred said with a tone of betrayal. “And you too, Irene. I didn’t think you’d be the type to hide something like this from me.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey Irene, did you happen to run into, I don’t know, the man who runs the country’s entire banking system?!'"

I gave a blank stare as he ranted. “I hadn't realised he was someone of importance.”

It was true. However, I suspected even if I did know the truth of who he was, I still wouldn’t have thought him important enough to bring up in conversation. From what I could tell, gossip about businessmen wasn’t a popular topic of small talk around the funeral home.

Well, unless they were dead, of course.

“Stop asking her so many questions, Alfred. And if you’re done with this little interrogation of yours, I’ll be heading back to my office now.”

“Fine, but I’ll get something more interesting out of you later,” Alfred said begrudgingly, making Davis sigh again.

“Just get back to work.”

He turned around and disappeared into the corridor, leaving Alfred and me alone again. I raised the mug back to my lips, taking another small sip. The liquid had cooled down a little after all that conversation, so I could finally now taste the subtle sweetness of the flavour. I suppose it was nice.

“Irene.”

“Yes, Alfred?”

“What’s that Callisto fella like?”

I paused, trying to think of a response as I glanced down at my tea. How was I supposed to go about describing that man in a way that didn't slander his character?

“He is overly sociable.”

Alfred gave me a look and crossed his arms, turning his entire body to face me. He didn’t seem very satisfied with my answer.

“Well, you think that of just about anyone who speaks for more than a few sentences to you.”

He wasn't wrong. But regardless, I was unsure of the exact response he wanted me to give him. Was he looking for a description of his alcoholic tendencies or maybe his penchant for speaking with strangers?

“He’s a polite and amicable man.”

Alfred only groaned, almost sounding like a strangled animal, as he leaned his head back and his eyes drifted up to the ceiling. "You’re really giving me nothing here.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. Something more interesting than that. Did he say anything about rising interest rates or which stocks you should go about investing in?"

“He didn’t mention anything about his business.”

“Really? Nothing at all?” Alfred said, his eyes snapping back down to me as he raised an eyebrow. “I would’ve thought a man like that wouldn't shut up about his business."

“Is that what businessmen do?”

“I mean, if you were as rich as him, why wouldn’t you?”

I suppose there was some logic to that. My former superiors would often flaunt their status around, always reminding us of just how important they were and the power they held over us.

Jesse appeared to be the non-military equivalent, and yet the complete antithesis. He never mentioned a thing about his status or presented himself as superior by any means. While I suppose his clothing and mannerisms did give some of it away, the way he spoke would’ve suggested the complete opposite.

It was strange.

“I see. Would you like me to continue reading?” I asked, trying to shift the topic back to his lesson. I didn’t necessarily want to keep being pressed about this man.

“Reading?” He narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the book still in front of me. “Oh, right, that. Yeah, I think we’ll stop for today. Those interruptions went on for a while, and I still have some work to get done.”

“I understand. Is there anything you’d like me to help you with?”

“I mean you can always help me move some things around,” Alfred

half-heartedly suggested as he rubbed the back of his neck. "But if you’d prefer to get out of the funeral home for a while, I guess you could run an errand.”

“What sort of errand?”

“Well, the hospital sent over a deceased patient recently. Her name’s Evelyn Smith and she's got some documents we need to fetch from them,” he explained before pausing. “You remember where I said the hospital was, right?”

I nodded as I recalled how Alfred had sat me down in front of a map the previous day and forced me to memorise all the significant places around the city. Apparently, he deemed it was necessary after I’d spent several hours trying—and failing—to locate the post office the other day. While I took responsibility for my shortcomings, Davis still scolded him thoroughly when I returned late.

“I’ll go collect the documents then, and help you with the moving after I return,” I said as I stood from my seat.

“Sounds good to me. Just tell the receptionist you’re from the funeral home and they should handle it from there.”

“I will.”

I walked around the counter and headed straight for the front door before pulling it open. Just as I was about to walk out, Alfred’s eyes widened as something suddenly hit him.

“Wait! Don’t forget to take an umbrella with you because—”

The door slammed closed behind me, cutting him off as I left without hearing him.

“It looks like it’ll be raining later…”