Deception | Sequel to 21M (discontinued)

XIV. Obdurate

"I haven't seen him." Arthur frowns, his accent deep and low due to the somber mood present.

"I'm tired of giving him space. I'm going to find him," I determinedly speak, set in my ways as I stalk past the threefold holding opposite approaches. I know Harry better than anyone else here, and I know that he shouldn't have to be alone. Obviously, something is not right; that's why it is taking so long for his return. I don't want to let him sit and dwell about whatever Estelle has told him so far.

My shoes clomp on the floor as I pass Arthur and Klara, heading for the staircase exit instead. The echoing of my feet pounding off the cement doesn't last long as I hear hushed voices that pause me. Stopping in my ascension, I grip the handrail and slow my movements, using caution not to make much noise as I take on another step. At the base of another set of stairs, I look around the corner to see Harry sitting beside Estelle.

A breath of relief slips delicately past my lips as I see that neither of them are yelling or using hurtful words. They almost look peaceful; similar from behind, so to say. His hunch is way more prominent than her intentional leaning forward, and from the way she fiddles with her hands and stares off, I can sense the slight tension lingering in the air between them.

Easing into a crouch, I hug the rail with my arm and sit on the first step on the floor above them. I can see through the bars as Harry looks down at his feet; I wish I could go down there and bring him comfort, even if just a small hand squeeze, but I can't break their moment, especially so abruptly.

"What?" Harry stands up so quickly that I swear I see air whoosh with his hips. I am about to stand up and run to him when I refrain, letting him have space, just not too much. "Do I know him?" he continues, my ears struggling to hear Estelle speak.

I think I hear her whisper, "You do."

Who does he know?

"Who?" Harry gasps, eyebrows so tightly scrunched. My stomach swirls at his expression; so frantic and unstable but he also looks frozen on the spot and numb. Harry's mouth is agape when he twists his fingers through his hair, staring down at Estelle with such intensity I even shrink back.

"Nate. Nate Muller." Estelle responds and I frown before a painful memory shoots through my body and electrifies my nerves.

Nate. Fred's son. Vivid memories of Arthur and Nate in the file room play like a sped-up film in my mind. The threats; the assault he gave to my cheek; the blackmail he had on Harry; I forgot about all this drama while I was away and now I'm unpleasantly reminded that just because I left, that doesn't mean that our problems did.

"Shit," I mutter to myself, feeling assaulted and violated all at once again. It seems silly to be so scared of Nate when I tolerated Amon for months, but with Nate, I get a sinister vibe that not even Amon could top. Nate intentionally wanted me uncomfortable; he wanted me to feel threatened and scared. And it worked when he assaulted me in this exact staircase.

"He's your brother, Harry," Estelle reiterates and I freeze, a choke lost on me. Suddenly, I feel like a hurricane has torn up my insides. How the hell can that be? Harry's sibling died when his mother di- . . . but Anne didn't die. Therefor, a sibling could have possibly not died. Which means, Nate could so be Harry's biological brother.

Holy shit.

"I don't believe you," Harry speaks, louder than before and much more flummoxed. "Why would my mum allow a scumbag like Fred Muller to watch over her child? It doesn't make sense why she'd do that."

"Why do you think Des has stuck around Fred throughout the years?" Estelle asks lightly, treading carefully on such a risky topic. "Fred was a close friend of your father, who would do anything for him. When Anne's uncle tried to kill you three, she knew keeping Nate would be far too risky. He needed to be put in a house that no one would suspect."