His visitor turned out to be Chris, who opened the door with some hesitation and stepped into the room.

“Wanted to let you know your brother said dinner would start soon.”

Ian answered, “Fine,” and, unwittingly, straightened his back upon noticing that Arnold was peeking from behind the Hach.

A thought struck Ian and he started rummaging through the small boxes on his dressing table while saying, “Hawks, stay put.”

Ian found what he was looking for and marched towards Chris, outstretching his hand.

“Here.”

“Uh…” Chris allowed Ian to drop three small Stones in his palm. “…S Batteries?”

“You loaned me this amount a few months ago,” answered Ian, avoiding his eyes.

“Um, Sir, isn’t the word le—“

“You didn’t have to.” Chris smiled brightly and elbowed Arnold. “But thanks.”

Ian mumbled, “I don’t want to owe you.”

Before Chris could say anything else, Arnold burst out:

“Sir, your face! You—you—you’re hurt!”

Chris froze. Ian quickly turned his back to them and untied his hair, fixing the fringes to hide the scars.

“Leave,” he said.

Chris ventured, “Um, we should go—“

Arnold shook his head and stepped into the room before Chris could stop him. “But—but, Sir, you have to d-do something about—”

“Leave!”

Chris took hold of Arnold’s arm and pulled him back towards the door as gently as he could.

“It wouldn’t kill you to be nicer, Ian. He’s not trying to arrest you. We’ll see you downstairs. Come on, Arnold.”