Chapter Seventeen

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A happy Daniel walked into the room behind Amelie, completely ignorant to the wave of silence between Amelie and Frank. His eyes flicked between the two of them.

"I think you have me mixed up with someone else. We gingers get that all the time." He tried desperately to cleave through the tension slicing through them. Meanwhile, his mind was reeling. He only knew of one Jake, and what he knew wasn't favourable. The chances were zero–less than zero. There was no way Amelie had a camaraderie with Silver's informant. Still, what if–

"My mistake." A sheepish expression took over her face. "You just look so similar." She took an awe-filled step closer. "Your eyes are just like his. Remarkable."

He wasn't sure how to respond to the woman's careful observations of his face, so he didn't.

"I heard you know where Slate went. Could you help me out?"

She stared at him a few more seconds, taking in every detail as if memorising them. Something steely came over her face as gave him the location.

"Good luck," she said. "Don't forget who the real monsters are."

He thanked her, and Henry, and Henry's wife as she came in from the garden. The kids had mostly scattered, back to whatever they had been doing before Frank interrupted. They didn't care much for words and veils, the smoke and mirrors of the adult world. The world still hadn't forced them to put up walls of defence.

When Daniel ran up to grab Frank's hand, the look in his eyes could only be construed as sincerity. "Don't let them hurt you." An idea seemed to strike him, and his fingers twitched. He lowered his voice, barely audible. Frank crouched so that their heads were on equal level.

"I heard something, the night we left Silver's." Daniel's voice may have been quiet, but it was the only thing Frank could hear, other than his heart pounding in his chest. "A few minutes before you came–or maybe an hour or two, the time starts to melt together a little–he walked past my room. I can always tell when it's him, even though he doesn't make a sound. I can feel it."

"But he wasn't home that night. He would have stopped us."

Daniel looked at him indignantly.

"Sorry, bud. I didn't mean to cut you off. Please, continue."

Daniel huffed, but obliged him. "He was there. I know it. He went to the lab, and on his way back he was humming. He's never hummed before." Daniel said the last part with special gravity, like he was telling the end of a ghost story–like he was never seen again. Then he giggled and stepped back from the position they were currently in, pulling his mouth away from where it had been nearly pressed against Frank's ear.

It seemed the kiddo was either much better at coping with trauma than Frank had ever been, or much better at hiding it. Either way, Frank was happy to see Daniel laughing. It felt like a reminder, and a promise–he could heal. He didn't have to become like Silver, although their powers were similar, because he could cope and overcome.

Shaking off his introspection, Frank thanked Daniel and let him return to the play he kept glancing back at. Daniel wrapped him in a tight hug before running off.

Then it was just him and his thoughts entering the stolen car.

If Silver was there that night, if he had visited the lab, what did that mean? At the very least, it seemed clear that something was off about that night. But if Silver had known they were there, why would he let them leave? And why would he let them take the serum with them? Unless ...

Frank's mind whirled around the possibilities, but try as he might, he couldn't seem to pull together a complete picture. Inclined as he was to trust Daniel, there was also the possibility that he was wrong. The kid could have heard Stanley or Chevy walking by, and his sleep-addled brain might have mixed things up.

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