of the academic year. Everyone tended to get very excited by the prospect, as there weren’t many opportunities to see loved ones when you were bogged down in the rigors of training. Even phone calls and texts could be taxing after a long day.
Genie made a disturbingly realistic retching noise. “I’d rather just wait until graduation to see my dad. It’s easier knowing he’s an ocean away.”
For a clever man, you can be exceedingly dense sometimes. It had been so long since the Door mess that I’d almost forgotten what I’d seen and heard that day, when we’d found Genie under the hypnotic spell. She’d spoken about arranged marriage, and how much she hated the idea. I hadn’t realized there were deeper familial tensions, but I supposed that should have been obvious from her frantic state that day.
Persie looked suddenly sad. “You don’t mean that. I’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior, and he’ll be thrilled to see you again, doing so well here.”
“If I were to hold my breath on that, I’d die.” She grabbed a hobnob and devoured it with remarkable aggression.
Against my better judgment, the words “You don’t get on?” somehow slipped out of my mouth. Genie was an enigma to me: bright and ferocious and brave, but there were occasional glimpses of vulnerability, and I wanted to know those parts, too.
Genie paused, a few crumbs dropping into her coffee. “We do and we don’t. I understand now why he’s always been so overprotective, but I could do without all the hyper-traditional bull he’ll inevitably spew.” Her voice cracked, and she took a sip of her drink. “Still, I miss the stuffing out of him, and I do love him. The trouble is… this was never part of his grand plan for me. He’s come around in the past few months, sure, but I’m sure he’ll scoff and roll his eyes a lot.”
“Well, at least you have that in common,” I joked, then worried she might not be in a joking mood. To my surprise, a grin shot back at me from over the lip of her mug.
“Says you.” She laughed. “I’m shocked your retinas are still attached.”
I smiled back. “I’ve trained them, over the years.” Curious, I turned to Persie. “How about you? There’s already a bit of excitement rippling through the Institute about the famous Harley Merlin coming to visit. Although I’d say you’re just as much of a celebrity as she is, after your recent heroics.” To have a famous, or infamous, parent undoubtedly came with a lot of unfair expectations, but she was enthusiastic, beaming as she spoke.
“I’m really looking forward to it. My parents are already counting down the days, and my mom’s complaints about video calls get worse every time I call. I think it’ll put their minds at ease if they can actually be here for a while and see firsthand that I’m doing okay.”
I nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“How about your family? I know your dad is sort of out of the picture, but will your mom come?” Genie interjected.
I kept forgetting that these two were as thick as thieves. Nothing remained a secret for long. Not that I’d asked Persie to keep my family particulars from Genie, but everything I said to one seemed to reach the other via some female osmosis. However, there was nothing more I wanted to add about that part of my life. My dad had forgotten about us, so I’d made the decision, a long time ago, to forget about him. Which begged the question of why I wore his bracelet around my wrist, even now. I had no real answer to that, other than it served as a reminder that I had survived without him for most of my life, and I would continue to do so.
“I’m a scholar’s assistant. I can take vacation days to go and see my mum whenever I want,” I replied, avoiding the subject.
“I like the way you say that. ‘Mum.’” Genie chuckled to herself, the charming sound lowering my guard for the question that ambushed me next. “Are you still in touch with your dad? Would he come to see you if you asked him, or do you not know where he is?”
I hesitated a moment too long. “I have no idea where he is, and I don’t much care.” That was half-true, but I had no desire to be fully honest, not even with Genie. “Anyway. You’re here for the pixies, right? You’re always