A clock ticks on plain walls. Sleek lights hang on the high ceiling. The large space beneath is sparsely used. Shutting out the city night and homely drizzle, there’s an airy feel about the room.

I enter through the double glass door. Behind me, Claire peaks in slowly. She brushes at the washed patch where the weather had stained her dress. Between the two of us, there’s not a single item in hand, but it’s not anything unordinary for either of us.

The stroke of time strikes the hour, and we approach an empty desk. A minute passes with our scanning eyes, watching for any sign of hospitality. But our gazes always end up at the desks rim, where a silver bell lies waiting.

I press the pin and a ring bounces about the walls.

There’s the same static air as the sound dissipates. The stress in Claire’s posture relaxes into a disappointed desperation. My feet shift in their place. There’s a single carpeted footstep. A lady appears behind the desk. She hides her unease as she turns the corner. And as unease conceals shock, it’s just as quickly masked by the expected smile.

Her greeting is veteran.

“Hello there,” She says. “I hope I haven’t kept you two waiting long. Did you have a reservation?”

Claire responds in stiff stance once again.

“We don’t.”

“If there were any free rooms we could use, even if it’s just one night, we’d greatly appreciate it.” I add on after her.

The lady reaches to the side to grab something, but I can’t see her hands over the ledge.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.” She says.

As she looks through her pages, I catch the glimpses of ink as they flip above the counter. Each blur passes by in rhythmic succession. She doesn’t flip back once. My eye flickers to the girl beside me. Her eyes squint ever so slightly, a trigger has tripped.

“Where are the two of you from?” The lady asks, still focused on what’s in front of her.

She’s given a hesitant reply.

“We’re from the countryside, far inland.” Claire tells her.

There’s another gap of ambience before the lady takes a moment to keep the small talk going.

“Have you seen the ocean before?” She asks.

Claire continues the conversation.

“Just the other day actually. For the first time.”

The pages keep turning, with seemingly no end; there’s more of everything in the big city. More lights, more people, more eyes.

“It’s okay if you haven’t got an extra room,” I tell the lady, still looking through her papers. “We appreciate that you would go out of your way to check for us.”

The receptionist smiles under a soft expression, and from the edge of my sight, I catch a glimpse of Claire, catching a glimpse of me.

The flipping finally comes to an expected stop, and the lady looks up. As soon as she does, I prepare to ask the next step of my question, but to my surprise, Claire asks the same thing first, almost like she took the words straight from my mind.

“Is there a last room you found?”

She’s given an immediate reply.

“The last one, yes. You two are a lucky pair.”

Claire returns a smile.

“I won’t have you wait too much longer. I’ll just need your names and I’ll let you go.”

There’s another glance between the two of us. My instinct kicks in. Her mind is sharp but she doesn’t know what I know. Before Claire is able to speak a word, I answer for the both of us.

“I’m Klaus, her name’s Claire.”

There’s a stare from beside me, but I ignore it. I watch intently as the lady’s eyes scan across the paper, following the letters of her pen.

“And your second names?” She asks further.

I’m the one to respond once again.

“Lang. For both of us."

----------------------------------

The lights of city night line the walkway, a pristine glow in the fading drizzle. An array of paths run through and between the buildings, winding around patches of greenery. There’s a direct view of the ports ahead. The cranes and late running ships illuminate their own positions. Hidden to the side, the locomotives pierce through the air as they come and go on the still operating tracks.

We head down the path which we’d only just came. Our backs are to the inn, the distance slowly growing. Claire twiddles her thumbs, itching to get her urges off her chest.

“Hey,” She finally says, looking to continue, but instead waiting for my assurance.

“What is it?”

“I’ve got a little idea, or theory or something or another, just, hear me out on this one.”

I nod as we carry on at the same pace.

“Okay, I’m not the best explainer, so, I don’t really know where to start, but. That lady, the receptionist a minute ago, when you asked her whether they had any empty rooms, she said she’d check for us, right?”

“She did.” I tell her.

“Well, I figured since all the other places we’ve stayed have been nearly empty, it would be the same here. So, shouldn’t she have known off the top of her head that there would have been some free rooms?”

“That does sound reasonable.”

“And at the end there, she also said that there was only one room left.”

I nod again, waiting for Claire to carry on, but she takes a moment just staring at me. Like she’s trying to figure out if I’m even listening.

“That doesn’t seem right to you, doesn’t it?” She asks.

“No, it does not, but what’s your point?”

She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, double, and triple checking her logic, so she doesn’t make a fool of herself. But I know how she’s thinking. It’s correct, only incomplete.

“I think, it could be possible that we seem like, how do I put it, like we’re defecting. If you know what I mean.”

Claire studies my eyes carefully as she says that word. But there must have been no comfort in them, because she shies away quickly after.

“Never mind actually, it’s just a stupid idea, I must just be paranoid.”

She hides herself even further away from my gaze with a timid nod. I spare her the anxiety and look away to the faint stars.

“So you think they’re putting us in a specific room to keep track of us?” I suggest.

With those words, the girl looks like she’s about ready to fizzle away.

There’s a long silence as we carry down the walkway. The tension is relived by the wide city design.

As the path stretches above the shallow oceans edge, my steps begin to slow. Leaning over the railing overlooking black sky and shimmering waves, Claire stops and joins my side. A shadow passes the waning moon and lets it reappear again before one of us gathers the courage to speak.

“What is it, that you want to tell me?” Claire asks.

I take a numb hand out of my pocket. Gripped between my two fingers, I hold the weathered envelopes for her to see.

“What’s this?”

Her voice seeks understanding, but I can only stare out to sea.

“They’re from your parents.”

There’s a pause in Claire’s breath. The letters I’ve long guarded slip from grasp.

“Try not to drop them into the water.” I tell her.

She thinks to speak before remembering to breathe.

“Where did you get these?”

“Charles.”

Claire doesn’t question any further. The first flap opens; the first letter slides out. Under the moon and shifting stars, with the city lights behind us, our time seems to come to a halt. My ears synchronize with the melody of disordered ships and trains, as the tides wane. Losing all awareness to the sounds of night, I hear the call of the past, dragging me back to meet the dead.

A white line pokes into my tunneled stare, awakening me to the present. Claire holds out the envelopes in both hands, letters sealed back inside.

“Why are you giving them back to me?”

I turn away, leaving her hands hanging. She doesn’t move them back.

“Did you read them?”

Claire nods, still holding her arms forward.

“Why did you show this to me now?” She asks.

“There’s a request I want to make.”

An abandoned soul lurks beneath her gaze.

“But before that,” I continue, “There’re probably a lot of things you’ve been wanting to be ask me, so ask away.”

Claire takes a moment to gather her thoughts.

“He’s still alive, right?”

“I would think so.”

“We’re going to find him still, aren’t we?”

I bite my lip.

“An old friend of mine once told me not to make promises I can’t keep.”

My reply leaves her in a nervous reservation.

“Okay,” She says, “Next question.”

I await her words, but she hasn’t yet thought it through.

“Do you think dad is trying to find that guy?”

“There’s a good chance.”

“Do you think he’s getting close?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Why are they having so much trouble finding him?”

“Because he’s smarter than them all.”

Claire pauses her rapid enquiring and looks out to sea. I do the same.

“How do you know?”

Her question is incomplete, but it’s all that I need. ‘How do you know where he’ll be?’

“Because he’s telling me where to go.” I tell her.

There’s a look of disconnect between the two of us. Like an ocean apart, and the weight of the water hiding the day dawns on her shoulders.

“Alright then. Last question.”

I answer with a ready silence.

“What was that request of yours?”

An inaudible sigh forces itself out my chest.

“I want you to go ahead without me.”

I’m given only an anxious stillness.

“I’ll catch up with you once I’m done here.”

The growing expectancy lingers.

“I’ve already got the next destination in mind, it’s not too far, so you don’t have to worry about getting lost. And even if you do, I’ll come find you, so really, don’t worry about it too much.”

I begin to notice my own impatience.

“It’s too big for me, isn’t it.”

Claire turns with a surrendering smile, and a tear in her eye.

“I wish we could go back to the way it was.” She says.

“I don't know about that. Meeting me was probably the unluckiest thing that could have happened to you."

I step away from the railing, facing down the walkway.

“We’ll head down to the station first thing in the morning,”

The way I end my sentence makes it seem like there’s something else I was going to say. Claire waits for what I have to say, but I decide against it. They can watch me if they want to. I might not get any sleep with a thousand prying ears and eyes on us. My ignorance has long since been lost to the wind, but not hers. And it’s not my place to take it away.

“Let’s get some rest, we’ve got an early start tomorrow.” I tell her instead.