ATM Rewrite: B2 — 28. Acceptance (Patreon)

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1. Jarlath Moore (Our Struggling Father!)

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Jarlath stood in the opulent lobby of the hotel, taking a moment to let his Irish temper fall to a simmer. The high glass front entrance spanned three tiers, allowing natural light to flood in and illuminate the sparkling crystal chandelier that hung majestically above. The floor’s polished granite gleamed, reflecting the elegance of the space and the subtle patterns worn into the stone.

So, he internally growled, staring around the extravagant hotel lobby and shoving his hands into his his pockets, all of this is essentially mine… Dammit.

His heated green eyes darted to the Foundation personnel, packing up material and exiting through the back of the hotel to store it elsewhere. Ferdinand gave him a strained smile and wave on his exit; Jarlath had just finished grilling the Ethics Bureau representative for the last two and a half hours.

Sora’s too soft… If this is mine, then I don’t want the bastards inside it. It isn’t like we need their protection anyway… The trouble is, should I impose on Noelia to spell it?

A frustrated snarl rumbled in his throat as his temper flared again, simmering annoyance burning him up inside; he usually blamed it on his hot Irish blood, but he may not even be Irish for all he knew.

Not wanting to be anywhere near the Foundation men after listening to everything they’d done to his life…the things they had no business being a part of, he stormed toward the revolving doors. Things weren’t right. He didn’t feel right, and he needed to find a solution to move past the badger tearing him up inside.

Passing through the revolving doors, he entered the security area. He gave a true wave to Paul and Jack, operating the secondary security door. The long-standing guards didn’t seem to know how to respond to him as Paul waved and Jack saluted like a soldier.

“Mr. Moore!”

“Mr. Moore, it’s good to see you up. I heard you were recovering from an injury.”

“Aye, but I’m back now,” he stated, readjusting his shoulder bag to shake their hands. “It’s good seein’ old faces. I’ll be countin’ on ya.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Relax, Jack,” Paul chuckled. “Do you need us to call a vehicle for you or get the car elevator ready?”

“No, I’ll be takin’ a walk… I need to clear my head.”

They nodded, not pushing the topic, and he left the lobby; the humidity clung to him like a second skin as he exited. He looked up at the sky, a tapestry of orange and pink as the sun began its descent. He released a heated sigh, the warm air filling his lungs as he tried to cool his rising temper.

Everything I built for us was just made…practically worthless. I have plenty of money, and the Foundation comes in and buys out the entire hotel, adds alien technology, and reshapes my suite without so much as consulting Sora, much less me. I want to rely on your judgment, Mia…but you’re making it so hard for me.

He glanced at his watch: 6:42 p.m. Fortunately, he had some time to compose himself before taking his wife out. Taking out his phone, he sent a text to a nearby restaurant Sora had frequented recently; he’d seen it on his bills and wanted to retrace the places his daughter had been recently. He’d already been to the monster one, so the Italian restaurant seemed like a good change of pace for them.

Reserving a private space on their 3rd floor, he paused over his recent contacts. Dialing Tom, the phone barely rang before Tom’s familiar voice answered.

“Jarlath! I heard you were under the weather. Eh, everything…good?”

Jarlath didn’t waste any time. “Hey, bud, I heard the Foundation clued you in about this whole monster craic. Has a week been enough time to wrap your head around it?”

Tom sighed, a weary sound that carried over the line, followed by a brief pause before he spoke. “Yeah, they filled me in, but… damn, it’s a lot to take in. Monsters, really? And Mia… She’s some kind of fox goddess? I mean, it kind of makes sense now, but still…”

His voice grew softer, and there was a noticeable hesitation in his cadence. “I understand if you weren’t comfortable sharing that part of your life. Honestly…if you ever wanted to do the whole mind wipe thing they mentioned, I’d be cool with it. I get it, man.”

Jarlath felt a twinge of relief at Tom’s understanding. “Thanks, Tom. It means a lot to hear ya say that. But right now, I think I need my best friend right now… You wouldn’t happen to be free right now?”

Tom’s voice was steady and reassuring. “You got it, man. I’m here for you, no matter what. Is Sora okay?”

“Aye, bud, she’s doing great. See ya soon.”

“We thinking about that private club down from your hotel?”

Jarlath looked over the laughing tourists and locals of Miami, a frown touching his lips. “I’d rather have a natter somewhere a bit quieter… How about poppin’ by the hotel lobby bar? The place will be dead as a doornail; I’ve made sure of it.”

“Your Irish side is coming out strong… You must be mad. A whole bar to ourselves, huh? Count me in! See you soon, Jar.”

Hanging up, he took another deep breath, allowing the warm evening air to calm his nerves. Despite the challenges, he knew he had the support of Sora and Mia, but a few itches in the back of his brain were digging up some unpleasant thoughts.

Jarlath re-entered the hotel, making a few passing gestures to Paul and Jack, who nodded respectfully. Silence greeted him as he stepped into the grand lobby, now devoid of any Foundation personnel. The quiet space felt oddly somber, a stark contrast to the earlier activity, and he felt a somber heaviness in his chest.

Taking it in for a time, his nose twisted with a resentful fire. The Foundation thinks they can buy their way into our lives. They project their influence on us and make everything look like a fairytale. Nothing comes free; they’re trying to use my daughter to open Avalon to them again.

Mia may be fine with it…but intruding on my life, changing my friends for life…uprooting the lives of the hotel staff to suit their goals with the only option being to follow the status quo or have your brain wiped? It’s not the benevolent organization they attempt to portray. They treat people like machines to be moved and programmed to their design.

Restless and unable to stand still, Jarlath wandered through the hotel’s luxurious amenities. Walking through the on-premises restaurant, he scanned the elegant tables, waiting to be put into use. Fine china and crystal glasses were in ornate cupboards, ready to be set.

Proceeding to the second level, he studied the fitness center, with gleaming equipment that promised to sculpt the perfect physique. He continued to the cigar and wine lounge that overlooked the sandy beach, exuding an old-world charm, with rich leather chairs and dark wooden shelves lined with an impressive collection of cigars and fine wines.

He glanced at the east and west pools, their crystal-clear waters rippling gently under the ambient lighting. Further up would be the hotel theater, awaiting any request a tenant had. All of this was meant for a collection of powerful men and women.

It had not only been a business decision to connect to other influential figures but also to provide an environment that could give Sora everything she’d ever need. Now, he was left here feeling stupid. Mia didn’t have her powers, and so much of her plan rested on the shoulders of Noelia; without a doubt, his wife was manipulating the tanuki to her ends, and Noelia may even be willing to accept it—to finally have a family. Mia knew that would tug at his heart.

His jaw ground slightly. Damn your fox nature…

Finally ending up at the lobby bar, he left his hands in his pockets. The bar was a masterpiece of modern design and opulence for the wealthy and powerful. High-backed leather stools lined the marble counter, and the shelves behind it showcased a vast array of top-shelf liquors stocked to any tenant’s desires, their bottles glistening under the soft, ambient lighting.

He spun in a slow circle, taking in the large windows that offered a deck-side view of the pools out back, now glowing under the evening light. Plush, deep-seated armchairs and low tables were strategically placed for intimate conversation, though tonight, it looked eerie while so empty and silent.

Pressing a button to open up the glass walls, Jarlath’s skin prickled as a sharp gust of air struck him, and a sudden rush of stomach acid hit his gut. Was it his guilt and uncertainty gripping him this tightly?

He took a seat at the bar, his thoughts turning inward to Mia and her sister, with everything his wife had said on the topic. Memories flooded back—Mia’s hot skin against his on the sandy beach, the fear in her voice, her pleading eyes, and her ears pulled back in distress. Her searching red eyes looked to him for support, and he felt the weight of her unspoken anxiety.

How can your spell be so powerful…without magic? he growled, a million questions clouded his mind as he leaned forward and rubbed his forehead. Is this a meltdown? I don’t break down; I find solutions… I don’t understand who I’m supposed to be right now. Sora and Wendy need me. Mia needs me…and now Noelia’s broken heart is being tangled in Mia’s web.

“Mr. Moore?”

“Hmm?”

Releasing a stressful puff of air, he showed a half-smile upon seeing a familiar face. “Chris… You’re taking over the management of the hotel again, I hope? Just getting off shift?”

The man who used to manage the hotel staff walked forward, studious eyes locking onto him. “Indeed, Mr. Moore. Dr. Ferdinand told me you’d like me to take back the responsibilities of managing the building. I finished my last one in the elevator just now and plan to look over the staff schedule tonight. With only a few families to care for, it really shouldn’t be a problem, and elevator personnel could easily be replaced with an access code.”

Enjoying the momentary, logical discussion on schedules, Jarlath straightened. “It’s good to have you back. I’d like to set up a meeting with all the remaining staff to hear their concerns and thoughts. Mind setting that up sometime in the future? The schedule shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I’ll see it done,” the man said, walking around the bar. “…You look like you could use a drink. I took a few mixer classes. How about Irish whiskey, mix in spirit with oloroso sherry, lemon juice, bitters, an orange-ginger marmalade, and…a housemade ginger syrup?”

Jarlath slid his hands through his hair and laughed. “I can’t drink too much before taking Mia out tonight, but why not? I’ll take a whiskey. I’m waiting for Tom to get here… Ah, and I’m so scattered I didn’t let Paul or Jack know.”

Chris took out his walkie-talkie, strapped to his official hotel suit. “I’ll let them know. I can remain nearby for anything you might need while you’re in your meeting.”

“You don’t need to be doin’ that, Chris,” he protested. “I don’t want to be takin’ your night away.”

“What night would you be talking about, Mr. Moore?” the man whispered with a sad crease to his brow. He selected a bottle of Irish whiskey off the shelf and gathered the ingredients. “To be honest, Mr. Moore, after all the money I’ve been getting from the Foundation…people are changing around me. I’d like to spend some time by myself tonight, believe it or not. Would you mind? I’d rather not go home right now.”

Jarlath’s smile softened as he stared at the cocktail the man was making. “Of course not, Chris. Grab a drink and relax.”

Now paying more attention, he saw the trouble behind Chris’ eyes, reflecting the haunted look of a man who had come into money, only for the vultures to start circling.

“Thank you, Mr. Moore. I’ll leave a walkie-talkie for you. Let me know if you need anything; I’ll be in the wine and cigar area, watching the NFL recent game since I missed it. I’ll make sure to replace anything I use.”

“I’m sure you will,” Jarlath said, taking the bottle of whiskey on the counter before it was used in the cocktail, he took a swig and handed it back to Chris to finish making the mixer. The smooth, familiar flavor slid down his throat, helping to calm his nerves. “Thanks for the drink.”

Getting up, he went to one of the high-back chairs, sitting down and waiting for Tom to make his way inside. Chris dropped his drink off when it was done, leaving it on the table beside him. After cleaning up, he removed himself to the 2nd floor to try to forget his own troubles.

“Life is complicated,” he whispered to the empty lobby while watching the ocean’s ebb and flow. “What should I do?”

As he sat in the still, lavish bar area, the walls seemed to close in around him. His mind kept ticking to the same thoughts.

What if you’re wrong, my fluffy spitfire? Did you take my worries into consideration? Did you dismiss them, thinking I don’t understand? But…what if you’re the one who doesn’t understand?

A soft melody played in his mind, a somber reminder of the emotional wreckage he felt navigating this turbulent time. He leaned against the arm of his chair, closing his eyes as he let the sensations course through him.

Darling, are we adrift, searching for a glimmer of hope in the chaos that is our lives? I love you to a depth that transcends words, but the current path we’re on…that you’re forcing on us leaves me in a sea of uncertainty. Can’t you see that? Are you acting rationally or out of pure fear? How can I even ask you that without you feeling cut…especially when you’re so vulnerable right now?

His gaze lifted as he heard the tapping of shoes echoing through the hall, and Tom came strolling toward him.

“Jar! I see you’ve gotten started before me… What’s up, man?”

“Tom.” He rose, shook his hand, and went to him with the bar, finishing off the rest of his drink. “Grab a bottle and join me… I feel like the sky is falling on top of my head! You may want to have your mind wiped after this.”

“Cheers to that,” Tom chuckled. “Seriously, if you need someone to shoot the shit with, then I’m here for you. Where should we start?”

Taking the whiskey bottle off the counter, he went back to the chair, Tom sitting beside him to stare at the rising and falling surf. He didn’t want to get right into the weeds quite yet, so he started with a lighter topic once they settled in.

“So…you know we’ve adopted Wendy?”

Tom poured himself a glass and set the bottle down.

“Hmm. Yeah, and the plural in there brings me a smile,” Tom said, holding up his brandy. “Mia’s back, huh? That’s something to raise a glass for. Man, that takes me back to our post-college years… You know, she told me that if I let Katie go I’d regret it. And damn, I do. Everything makes sense now that I know she’s some sort of fox goddess. No wonder you waited sixteen years for that woman.”

“Aye…” Jarlath took his bottle and lifted it to his lips at the comment; there was a difference between the wife he knew and this frightened fox mother that had returned to them. “Mmm… She wants to open up the marriage to another woman.”

Tom spat out his liquor, hand clasping his throat and choking. “She what?! I didn’t know she was like that! Damn, but…shit, uh, are we talking about a previous marriage with some other goddess? I guess she is a fox goddess,” he mumbled, his mind spinning way out of control and making him smile a little. “Woah. So…is she hot?”

Rubbing the neck of the bottle, Jarlath leaned against his cheek while staring at the green glass. “…It’s Noelia.”

His lawyer’s eyes went blank, no doubt running through all the memories he had of Sora’s caretaker since childhood. “Like, the…the Cuban immigrant Noelia? You’re joking. Huh… Is it for…Sora’s sake? I mean, she was a great mother figure to Sora, I suppose.”

Jarlath felt his stomach acid acting up again but didn’t want to be drunk when taking his wife out tonight. “It’s more complicated than that… Noelia is like Mia, only much younger, and a tanuki—just think of her like a raccoon woman,” he mumbled at Tom’s questioning stare.

“She was hiding behind illusions the whole time we knew her. In a way, she infiltrated our lives…and the raccoons and foxes are basically mortal enemies. She was abandoned by her father, though, and left to be killed by Mia since Noelia can’t have children.”

Tom’s brain was shifting into gear while picking apart his explanation, sitting back and working through it with his lawyer mind state. Instead of freaking out, he simply downed his glass and leaned against the side of his chair, lightly chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. Noelia’s been hiding her true self all these years, she’s actually a tanuki—a kind of raccoon woman—and she and Mia have this complicated history because they’re supposed to be mortal enemies. And now, Mia wants to bring her into your marriage…because Noelia can’t have children and was basically left for dead by her father? She feels…bad for her?” Tom summarized, his voice steady despite the craziness of the situation.

Jarlath forced a laugh, feeling the weight of how much was left unsaid. “Not exactly, bud. The situation isn’t about her feeling bad for Noelia, but other issues I’d rather not get into. Essentially, she doesn’t expect she’ll be able to stay with our family, and she is trying to groom Noelia to be the perfect replacement wife and mother.”

Tom let out a low whistle, pouring himself another drink. “Man, that’s a lot to unpack. So, Mia’s trying to secure a second mother figure for Sora and Wendy, thinking she’s going to be taken away? You’re obviously torn about this—shit, I can’t imagine it.

“You wait for this woman for sixteen years, and the first thing she does when coming back is throw another woman into your bed… What the hell? I don’t know how to feel about that myself. Does she have a good reason to think that? I mean, she must… How old even are they, by the way?” he asked with a bit of curiosity.

Jarlath puffed out his cheeks, his skin suddenly burning after Tom kept clarifying what he understood aloud. “Mia…millions of years old, but Sora is her first child in all that time. She’s new to being a mother…scared. She claims Noelia is mentally a 28-year-old, but romantically…an 18-year-old.”

He paused for a moment, scratching his neck and feeling the sweat underneath his armpits. “The real problem is…I don’t know if she’s acting rationally, despite all that wisdom. I suppose you could say she has a blind spot in a specific area that makes her act out and shut down…and I don’t know how to approach the subject without hurting her.”

“Shit.” Tom leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his gaze on the seagulls flying over the beach. “That’s a tough spot. You’ve got all this history, all these layers of complicated emotions and fears. Mia’s been through a lot, it sounds like, and she’s acting out of a place of deep insecurity and fear… If that’s what you’re really saying.”

Jarlath nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he listened to his friend’s calm, analytical voice. “Exactly. Well, that’s my fear, bud. She’s scared of being forced to leave us again… She has valid reasons. I just don’t know if they’re well-founded, and she’s opening up this can of worms that is completely unnecessary.

“She thinks that if Noelia is with us, she’ll be able to protect our family if something happens to her. But it feels wrong, Tom. I can’t shake the feeling that she’s trying to control everything out of fear, and that’s not the foundation we should be building our new lives on.”

Tom took a slow sip of his drink before crossing his legs. “So, what’s your plan? How do you address this without pushing Mia further into her nightmares? Wouldn’t she already know?”

Jarlath sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Probably not anymore…and that’s part of the problem. I don’t know. I love her with all my heart, and I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t just go along with this without voicing my concerns…to both of them. I need to find a way to look past the image she has in her mind. I’m open to Noelia’s involvement in our family to reassure her; I really am… Just not with all this manipulation.”

Setting his glass down, Tom got up and moved to the open doors as the gentle ocean wind pressed against his frame. He was silent for a minute before turning to look at him.

“I’ve seen a lot of different marriage troubles in my years as a lawyer in Miami, bud, and your situation tops the list. Then again, maybe it’s not all that complicated, despite your fantasy elements involved. Maybe it’s about finding a way to build up Mia’s confidence. If she can see that she doesn’t need to manipulate the situation to protect herself and her family—to see everyone else as not understanding the weight she’s feeling—she might be able to let go of some of that fear to hear your worries without shutting down.”

Jarlath looked out at the horizon, the waves crashing rhythmically against the shore. His best friend’s words reached his troubled heart.

“The trouble is…I don’t know how to do that.” Lips pulling into a line, he decided to throw out a Hail Mary. “Herald, are you listening? What do you have to say about our family situation from your point of view, if you’re supposed to protect us from outside forces?”

Jarlath’s words hung in the air, the silence that followed feeling heavy and charged. Tom turned, brow furrowing in confusion as he looked between Jarlath and the empty room.

“Herald? Are you expecting someone, Jar?” Tom asked, glancing around the empty room.

Before Jarlath could respond, a soft, almost musical laugh echoed through the bar. Jarlath’s gaze snapped to the source of the sound—a single woman who now sat comfortably in an armchair that had been empty just moments before. She was a vision of elegance and enigma, dressed in a black slit dress with a matching mob cap tied with a large bow. Her bleach-blonde hair was tied into several locks with thin, ebony ribbons.

“Jarlath,” she greeted in a voice that was both soothing and unsettling, lowering a newspaper covered in bizarre symbols to reveal a face that seemed to shift between youth and maturity with every blink. Her deep purple eyes, with shifting lines like an ever-changing maze, locked onto his.

An elegantly designed parasol rested beside her, and a closed paper fan lay on the arm of her chair. Her hands, covered in inky silk gloves that seemed to absorb all light around them, flared at the edges with strange designs. Her fair, long legs crossed gracefully, emphasizing her black stilettos. Her presence exuded a high-class aura that made Jarlath instinctively straighten.

“Herald,” Jarlath acknowledged, feeling Tom’s bewildered gaze burning into him, yet he couldn’t keep focused with the gorgeous woman sitting between them.

Tom’s confusion gave way to a mixture of curiosity and unease. “Uh, Jar, who is this beautiful woman…who just emerged from nowhere? Has she been here the whole time?”

“This,” Jarlath tiredly replied, still staring at the entertained blonde, “is the Herald of Sakura. She’s…basically Mia’s insurance policy.”

The Herald smiled, a serene and almost knowing vibe closing around his throat. “I understand you have questions, Jarlath. Your wife will be cross if she learns we’ve talked. That being said, concerns about your family, about Mia and Noelia, certainly are of importance. However, I’d be more concerned about your daughters than your wives. Mia expects to be forced out of your lives… I’m doubtful, though not certain.”

Jarlath rubbed between his eyes, emotions a swirling tempest. “Wives… So, to your all-seeing vision, the wives part is basically set in stone. And why should I be worried about my daughters?”

Tom promptly sat, listening intently, almost looking hypnotized by the incredibly powerful entity.

The Herald’s eyes softened, and she inclined her head slightly. “Firstly, Mia’s decisions are deeply rooted in her past, in her experiences, rather than what she foresees in the future. I’ve warned her as much, yet the woman has the will of a mountain. She believes she must control everything to prevent the loss she dreads. It’s not uncommon for those who have suffered to cling tightly to whatever they can control… Even more so for those with millions of years of self-inflicted trauma.”

Jarlath exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the world fall upon his shoulders. “So, she is acting emotionally…and she won’t budge. And what about my daughters? Why should I be worried about them?”

The Herald’s eyes softened further, a hint of compassion breaking through her serene facade. “Mia does not know this, Jarlath, but we have a contract predating hers… It is your family who is a real danger to your daughters, and they will find a way to reach out to them that even I cannot prevent. In fact…an incident has already happened.”

Tom’s gaze snapped to him. “Your family? I thought you grew up in the foster system.”

Jarlath’s vision narrowed. “We’ll talk about it later, bud… Mia won’t share anything about my past. If we have a predating contract, then what are the details…or did I not want those disclosed.”

A chill ran down his spine. She spoke with a certainty and gravity that left no room for doubt, yet her cryptic warnings only seemed to deepen the mystery surrounding his family and their hidden connections. Nilly herself was an unknown element that dug at his mind.

Jarlath shook his head, trying to process everything. “I get it’s complicated. Mia’s past, our family’s past, it’s all intertwined in ways that make me want to scream. And now you’ve mentioned my daughters—I need to know.”

Tom leaned forward, his expression grim. “Do you think Mia’s decisions are putting them in danger? Is it even possible to change things with all her power?”

The Herald remained composed, her gaze fixed on him. “You must tread carefully, Jarlath Moore. The threads of destiny are delicate, fate has already set into place within the short term. Meddling could have unforeseen consequences I would rather avoid. Yet, your role in this is pivotal.”

“And that is?” Jarlath asked, looking for any kind of higher guidance in the maelstrom he’d been thrust into, and the guilt from his earlier conversation with Mia returned about drinking poison off the same vine. “How do I reconcile with these dark feelings I have in my chest… How do I trust Mia after—”

He paused as a tear fell down his cheek, and he reached up to brush it away, Mia’s terrified cries resonating with the guilt that quaked through his whole soul, her words stabbing him in the chest:

“How can you be sure? I’m so terrified that I’m opening up Noelia into our lives…when it kills me inside thinking about what I’m doing, but…I have to leave Sora with someone I know I can trust. Noelia is such a wonderful soul that makes me rethink everything I thought about tanuki…and that scares me, too! Is that the plan? Is she just a pawn in her father’s quest to kill my sister? I’m…scared you’ll leave me because of how horrible of a mother I am. How can I think—”

Jarlath whispered the words he’d told her. “It’s going to be okay… Can you tell me, Herald?”

Jarlath sat in stunned silence, his mind reeling from the distrust and negativity that had tainted his heart; how could he feel this way when Mia needed him the most right now? Tom glanced at him, concern etched on his face, but before he could speak, the Herald continued with an air of finality.

“My answer is the same as the one I gave your wife, Jarlath. It isn’t that I cannot tell you more,” she said softly. “But were I to tell you of the dangers I am concerned about, you would not remember. As for your family, even my eyes cannot see them. That being said, your sister, Rose, is a pivotal figure from your past—rebellious and intertwined with the threads of Fate.”

Heart pounding against this ribcage, his eyes widened. “I…have a sister named Rose?”

Tom’s face blanked as if hearing gibberish as the woman continued.

“Slowly, you are awakening to who you really are due to the damage done to your vessel. You should ask Sora about Rose.” Her tone turned more sober. “But I’d suggest waiting a week before broaching the topic. It would not be wise to distract her in the immediate future.”

Rose’s name pricked him like a thorn—not her true name, yet a name from his past that stirred distant memories—one he couldn’t quite grasp. The Herald’s cryptic warnings and instructions added layers of complexity to his already turbulent life.

“I have to wait a week…but I can do that if it’s for Sora’s sake. Mia…what about Mia?” he asked. “How do I reconcile with her when she’s so wrapped in fear?”

The Herald’s gentle, deep-purple eyes met his with unwavering intensity. “Be her protector…and validate her. Despite Mia’s shortcomings and her fears…her mistakes, in bringing Noelia into your lives, she has crossed a boundary that even Inari could not. Be proud of her. Accept Noelia. Show her love and kindness, and she will bloom into the woman Mia dreams she could be. Noelia will help Mia confront her own demons in ways you cannot.”

Jarlath felt a surge of conflicting emotions—love for Mia, frustration at his own failings, and a newfound set of budding emotions towards Noelia. If she could support his wife in ways he couldn’t, then how could he deny her? Mia hadn’t made totally rash decisions but decisions based on past trauma. And how could he blame her for that? In fact, adding Noelia to their family may have been Mia’s way to find a way through that trauma.

The Herald’s words resonated with a clarity that cut through the fog of uncertainty that had enveloped him.

Jarlath nodded slowly, absorbing the advice. “And how do I approach Mia about all this? How do I get her to see that she doesn’t need to control everything, that we can face these challenges together?”

“Do what you know to be right, Jarlath. Protect Mia from herself,” the Herald repeated. “Be her knight. Embrace Noelia, not just for Mia’s sake, but for your family’s sake. She can become everything Mia is to you if you give her the chance. This is your path now, a path of guardianship and love…of acceptance. And now my contract with you is fulfilled.”

With those enigmatic words hanging in the air, the Herald rose gracefully from her chair, her presence shimmering with an otherworldly light as she spread her paper fan to hide her lower face. She inclined her head to Jarlath and Tom before turning and walking towards the door, her steps soundless against the polished wood floor before fading away.

A mixture of disbelief and curiosity was written on Tom’s face while watching her departure, the orange sun descending in the sky casting a glow across the bar. “Jarlath…what just happened?”

Jarlath took a deep breath, a thankful smile lifting his mouth as the darkness in his heart parted. “I wish I knew, Tom. At least I have something to focus on now…something to guide me through this chaos. I have some wives to spoil.”

Walking over to his bewildered best friend, Jarlath pulled him into a strong hug, making the man choke. “Thanks for being here with me when I needed ya, bud. Hit me up when the next game comes around, and I’ll make some time. Sound good?”

“Hey, I kind of lost track of it all by the time that goddess or whatever showed up… Damn, man! How many of them do you have on speed-dial? Hook a buddy up!”

He laughed and clapped him on the back before pulling away. “How about I try to figure out what happened to Katie, huh? If anythin’ to close old mysteries.”

Tom’s grin widened. “Now that’s a thing my boy would say! Glad to have you back, Jar.”

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