Maybe, Zelda thought, this would be easier if her father knew. If he knew, he would be perfectly ready to get rid of her, and she could have professed ‘if you don’t go for this, I am going to die alone’ with all the confidence that it warranted. But he didn’t know, she had made sure of that. There was a part of her that was sure this would not be the end of things with Mr. Darrow - but right now she felt distinctly defeated, really just wanted the conversation to end.

“I love you too.”

That brought a smile to Brannon face, albeit a brief one. “Maybe the next one can be one with a real occupation,” he said, although he wasn’t particularly hopeful. In the scheme of things, though, going from ‘werewolf-who-should-have-been-dead’ to ‘sailor’ was, technically, an improvement. Maybe the next one would even be respectable.

“Let’s go say our goodbyes to Captain Darrow,” he said, turning his attention back to the door. “We’ve a whole passover dinner to get started with.”

Nobly, Zelda thought, she did not make a face at that. She turned back to the door, held it open for her father, fixed Alfred with a look that attempted to convey as many apologies as she could.