Ari had leapt up at the knock on the door, sure it would be Katia: everyone else was already here, after all. He pulled open the door to the family house with a warm smile. The smile abruptly dissipated when he recognised the face.
Darrow (Captain Darrow) had slipped his mind for the most part, in the last few months. There had been enough going on in his own to much be concerned with the particulars of his youngest sister's life, beyond the question of how long Zelda might hold a grudge against him.
For Dionisia, that was. He wasn't sure she actually knew about his, er, lecturing Darrow back in the hospital.
It dawned on him quite suddenly that perhaps he had been stupid to assume his warning had been heeded, and that - just because he'd heard nothing else about the two of them - Darrow had disappeared from Zelda's life after all. Because he was here now, here on the family's front doorstep on Passover, and that could not just be a coincidence.
The greeting that had been on the tip of his tongue dried up about as quickly as his smile had; the only consolation here was that Darrow seemed as thrown off as he was. Only - Darrow was hoping to speak to their father.
Why? Ari very nearly said, but hurriedly bit back the rudeness in it, determined not to be anything but civil until he knew what, precisely, was going on. Of course, he was also determined not to budge from the doorway until he knew what, precisely, was going on. He raised his eyebrows in wordless incredulity, a silent interrogation.
He pulled together a more polite, if just as sceptical, variation of this question eventually. "Tonight? Is he... expecting you?"
Was there any way on earth that Darrow had been invited here tonight by anyone in the family? And with their father's knowledge? With his blessing?
Surely not.
Darrow (Captain Darrow) had slipped his mind for the most part, in the last few months. There had been enough going on in his own to much be concerned with the particulars of his youngest sister's life, beyond the question of how long Zelda might hold a grudge against him.
For Dionisia, that was. He wasn't sure she actually knew about his, er, lecturing Darrow back in the hospital.
It dawned on him quite suddenly that perhaps he had been stupid to assume his warning had been heeded, and that - just because he'd heard nothing else about the two of them - Darrow had disappeared from Zelda's life after all. Because he was here now, here on the family's front doorstep on Passover, and that could not just be a coincidence.
The greeting that had been on the tip of his tongue dried up about as quickly as his smile had; the only consolation here was that Darrow seemed as thrown off as he was. Only - Darrow was hoping to speak to their father.
Why? Ari very nearly said, but hurriedly bit back the rudeness in it, determined not to be anything but civil until he knew what, precisely, was going on. Of course, he was also determined not to budge from the doorway until he knew what, precisely, was going on. He raised his eyebrows in wordless incredulity, a silent interrogation.
He pulled together a more polite, if just as sceptical, variation of this question eventually. "Tonight? Is he... expecting you?"
Was there any way on earth that Darrow had been invited here tonight by anyone in the family? And with their father's knowledge? With his blessing?
Surely not.
