“Wow.” For a moment, she’s happy and sad all at once and can’t find any words. “This is the first good thing that’s happened to me in weeks. Thanks.”
“So.” Daniel braces himself, and he looks set to be punched. “Have you talked to your sister about your mom yet?”
“No.” She doesn’t go for another roll-up.
“Ellie…”
A reproving Daniel is quite the sight. It’s as though gravity were disappointed in you. It’ll still attract things to each other all the same, but the protest will be palpable.
“Have you talked to your parents?”
“Ouch, but fair.” The mountain heaves a sigh. “We’re back to them not speaking to me. Like I wasn’t going to bring Belt with me. They think I’m embarrassing them.”
Belt and Daniel have been together for a couple of years now. Ellie thought Daniel’s parents, her aunt and uncle, had finally made their peace with Daniel because he is their son or maybe out of sheer exhaustion. Apparently not. It must take so much time and energy to be so petty for so long.
“Well, yes, being them is embarrassing, but it’s not becauseyou brought your boyfriend.” Ellie looks around. “Where is he anyway?”
“Making my parents uncomfortable by having a thoroughly respectable, if somewhat one-sided, conversation with them where he expresses his genuine condolences over Aunt Vera’s death.” Daniel holds a hand up in surrender. “It was his idea. I just didn’t stop him.”
A man steps into their ignored corner. He’s not a relative. She knows all of her relations in the US by sight and, in any case, they’re all Taiwanese. He looks kind of familiar, so he’s probably a maintainer who worked with her mom. Honestly, though, it’s not like there’s a shortage in the world of solidly built white men with blond hair who are about a head taller than her.
The man’s face is stern. He holds out an envelope, staring expectantly. Ellie has no idea what this is about. She meets his gaze and takes the envelope. The man turns to leave, but immediately turns back.
“You know.” The pressure keeping the man’s voice level could transform rocks. “They could have done it. They could have changed the universe into one where Vera could be cured.”
“Yeah.” Ellie keeps her gaze locked with his. “I can tell from the way she stayed in her coma.”
“You didn’t give them a chance.” His face flushes. “Maybe they needed more time.”
“Because she was all about perverting the universe for her own benefit.” Ellie crosses her arms. “What might have gone wrong in the universe to save her?”
“Do you see her?” He points to Chris, across the room, accepting condolences and barely able to hold back the torrent of tears. “You did that to her.”
“But you, of course, wouldn’t know anything about being an asshole to someone who’s recently lost her mother.”
The man grits his teeth. His face hits full boil.
“You don’t deserve to call her ‘mother.’”
Daniel takes the tiniest of steps forward. He waves at the man.
“I think this conversation is over.” Daniel’s voice is this quiet rustle that nevertheless fills the room. “Don’t you, Tom?”
Tom stumbles back a step. His gaze widens and his face pales. He’s only now realized Daniel is right here.
Looking at Daniel or, rather, Tom’s reaction to Daniel, Ellie suspects she sees Daniel differently from everyone else, or at least differently from Tom. She can’t help but see Daniel as big and affable. They’ve known each other since they were kids. He’s the guy who makes food appear out of nowhere and jokes about the workings of the universe. Based on the panic smeared across Tom’s face, the man who barged in then insulted her sees someone else entirely. Daniel’s presentation has clearly shifted from “feed you” toward “kill you.” To Ellie, it’s subtle. To Tom, maybe not.
Tom stammers something about reading the note from the Chief Architect. He backs away a little too quickly and nearly trips as he turns to flee.
Ellie stares up at Daniel, disapprovingly. Daniel stares back, puzzled.
“What?” Daniel’s puzzlement dissolves into a grin and his gaze sparkles when it shifts to the envelope. “Aren’t you curious what the Chief Architect has to say?”
It can’t be business. There’s a hierarchy to the folks who maintain the universe. There’s a small list of people the Chief Architect delegates to and Ellie is not on it. Maybe she’s going to express her condolences. Or maybe she’s going to insult her, like Tom, but more formally.
Ellie takes a deep breath before she rips open the envelope and takes out the note inside. It’s some subtle shade of cream with few sentences written with a precise hand and an unmistakable signature. Her heart pounds, and she forces her hands to steady.
Apparently, it is business even though Ellie has never met the Chief Architect. Unless getting annoyed at her eulogy counts.
