Aftermath

Ch 65: The Postmark

A/N: Once again, please note that the bolding denotes writing from letters or reports. Happy reading!

Kota

I was greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee the next morning when I went downstairs. A second sniff verified that it wasn't Marc's special blend. Not as good, but it was coffee, so it would work. I reached for a cup, though since the vise was back and tightening around my skull, I only poured half of a cup.

My thoughts were on the newest of my father's letters. Some about the letters had nagged at me as I had cleaned up and dressed. Two letters arriving in one day, even if they had been written days apart, pointed to an escalation. I needed to reread them.

A rolled newspaper in hand, Victor came in the back door, dressed in a fresh white shirt and a pair of black pants. He left the door open a few inches as he walked in. "Good morning," he drawled before sitting down at the table with his own coffee mug. The table was littered with electronics: Victor's phone, several large iPads, and other devices. A screensaver darted across the screen of the laptop next to him, serving as proof that he had been up and working on something already.

I fought off a yawn. "Morning."

The door opened further as Max came in. He sniffed at me, receiving a few pats on the head, and after checking his water bowl, he left the room.

Guess that's a testament to how boring we are. That was fine; I would settle for boring over bombs. I shut the back door before taking my cup and sitting down perpendicular to Victor.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked, his tone way too casual.

I remembered my resolve to be more open. "About the same," I admitted. "Headache. Kind of sore. I did too much yesterday."

"At least you know it," Victor said mildly.

I nodded, mostly glad he wasn't going to gripe about it like some of my brothers would. The headache was punishment enough.

"Maybe you shouldn't be drinking coffee." Victor pushed the laptop over a few inches before unfurling the newspaper.

I warned him off with a dark look. "Take it from me and you will pay."

He held up his hands in surrender. "I wouldn't dare." He eyed me up and down. "Are you okay?"

"Asked and answered." I took a long, satisfying sip, which elevated my mood slightly. "Or are you getting at something?"

Victor shrugged. "Last night was the first time I've ever heard you explain what happened with your father," he said. "That couldn't have been easy."

No, it hadn't been. "I needed to tell her."

He kept watching me, probably thinking of all the things I hadn't told her, though spurred on by my brothers, I had gone into more detail than I had meant to. "I might have scared her off," I said.

Victor smiled. "Haven't you noticed? Sang doesn't scare easily."

He was right. I was probably thinking about it way too much. To compound matters, I had been asleep when she had come to bed. I wished I had made myself stay up so I could know what she thought. "By the way, what was going on last night?"

Victor quickly realized I was referring to whatever had caused their phones to go off. "It wasn't too bad. North and Silas were trying to get a couple of phones wired. They thought they could handle it, but they needed a distraction. On top of that, there were some technical issues. We got it handled, though."

"I'm sure you did." Fighting off another yawn, I leaned forward and pulled the folder of letters in front of me.

Victor barely looked up. "Haven't you read all of those?"