Warnings: i don't think there are any, to be honest
Word count: 1012
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And then I found him, with the scarab, living 20 minutes from our old place," Layla sighs, then smiles, her face completely contrasts her attitude.
A camera shutter clicks, startling me a bit.
"Now, he's probably going to get himself killed running around Cairo,"
The same camera shutter clicks, except it doesn't startle me this time, seeing as I'm ready for it. Lagaro hands me a completed fake passport with my name on it. She's still working on Layla's
"That's why you look so unhappy to be going home. Anxious, maybe," Lagaro says, opening a drawer and pulling something out, glancing at Layla.
"It's been 10 years," Layla reminds her.
"Not worried you might've burned too many bridges? All those stolen relics and cheeky antiques?"
The printer whirs, the sound filling my ears with an annoying grinding sound.
"And what about her? You're not dumping this five year old on my doorstep while you go have an adventure in Egypt," Lagaro asks, a bit skeptical.
"I am not five! I'm 15!" I exclaim, quite upset to be mistaken for a kindergartener. Though I know she did that on purpose. What grown-ass woman looks at me... me and sees a toddler??
"Close enough," she says, putting papers through a special laminator.
"Amaris is coming with me, actually. She's a big kid. Besides, I want Marc to feel guilty," Layla says, heading to the other side of the room to grab something and hold it up to the light before she hands it to her.
"Whatever you say," she stamps the passport a few times.
"And I don't steal. They've already been stolen. That's what people forget. I take them off the black market and return them to their rightful owners," the whirring continues, "I might keep a few to pay the bills."
"Clever you. Not so innocent anymore, eh? I wonder what your father would think of his little scarab now?"
I can see Layla visibly cave-in at the nickname her father used to call her.
"Hmm. We'll never know. I can't believe he let you teach me how to do all of this," she says, dodging the subject slightly, grabbing a few things and pressing them into the small blue book.
Honestly, I have no idea what's going on with the fake passport making, but cool.
"Ha! The man indulged you. Do you think his dig sites were any place for a child?" she glances at me for a brief second, "Archeology. One big mess of obsessive bookworms."
Someone clearly has very strong opinions about archeology. I chuckle to myself. Digging up old, dusty stuff that probably wants to stay buried is honestly pretty boring, if we're being honest.
"Whatever happened in that desert is lost to the sands," Layla says more to herself than Lagaro or me.
"It's a hard thing, exhuming the pain of the past. Easy to get stuck," she does something and there's a clicking sound, "Fixate on what's hurt us."
"Great. Then I won't do either," Layla says, abruptly closing the passport and handing it to Lagaro. She finds the jar of Turkish delights and takes one. Or two. Maybe three.
I'm pretty sure she once told me that Turkish delights were her favorite.
"Like you aren't already. I miss him, too, is all. But that's your baggage, not mine. Just avoid your old haunts. Call me sentimental, but I worry about you," she sighs, "Have a good trip, love. You too, Amaris." She smiles at me wearily and I smile back.
YOU ARE READING
To the Moon and Back {Marc Spector x daughter}
FanfictionAmaris Spector has always been a fighter. Ever since she was born, she pushed back, not letting her physical disability stop her. Unfortunately, her father, Marc Spector is missing and he has a few secrets of her own. With help from her step-mother...
