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Jeff's car didn't allow for going without notice, but it was the only thing that could fit three people. A car that said Grover county Sheriff on the reservation didn't exactly fit in, especially since it was a different county. Jeff was at least out of uniform, dressed in a pair of well fitted jeans and a flannel shirt. He was never without his hat either, and maybe Micah thought about it too much.

That wasn't the reason for their visit though. Sasha was excited to see the cultural museum again as well as the gift shop, but Micah was hoping to find something different even then. They let Sasha lead the way up into the building and they checked in for the museum.

"You ever been here before?" Micah asked, not that he was an expert with his one previous visit.

"No," Jeff muttered, his head on a curious swivel, trying to take everything in from a distance. The old photos stood as tall as they were, making a lasting impression. "I didn't ever think to try coming here."

Micah shrugged and watched as Sasha picked up a headset for an audio guide portion. "I'm hoping maybe they have some sort of documentation of all of the members," Micah said.

"We could just ask Troy," Jeff sighed. He wasn't a fan of researching from a distance like Micah was doing.

It didn't take long for the woman working the museum to approach them. Micah was fairly sure it was the same woman as the last time—he only hoped she didn't remember him as well. "Welcome, can I interest you all in a tour? Or do you have any questions?" She offered, smiling politely.

Jeff cleared his throat and elbowed Micah in the side. Micah scrambled to remember how to speak. "I'm looking for a family member actually. I was wondering if you had some sort of ledger of the tribal members?"

"Not on display within the museum. Some people are born in the tribe with one name, and after attending boarding schools or adoption, they're given different names. Sometimes it can take a lot of research depending on how far back you're looking. What's the name?" She explained.

"Uh, Chase Fyant," Micah spoke the words carefully.

She raised a dark eyebrow at him. "Family, you said?"

"Yes," Micah answered with less certainty. All he had was his birth mother's word after all.

"And what exactly would be your relation to him, or what business do you have with him?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

Micah certainly wasn't missing her defensiveness. He could see that Jeff wanted to step in and speak up, but he instead put his hands firmly on his hips and kept his mouth shut while staring at Micah. Micah let out a sigh. "I think he's my biological father. I'm just not sure I want to approach him yet."

Her mouth seemed to drop open and then snap shut. She dropped her arms to her side and fidgeted for a moment. "Well, then. Sometimes it's a small world. That's my Uncle Chase. I didn't... he's never said anything about having a son."

Jeff grinned and swatted him in the arm. "I told you this would work."

"You just wanted to go through the tribal police," Micah hissed at him before turning his attention back to the woman. "I don't think he knows about me. He was only a teenager and so was my mom. I'm, uh, Micah. This is Jeff, and over there is my half-brother, Sasha."

"I'm Abby," the woman introduced herself quickly, putting out her hand. "Oh, wow. Sorry, it was just a little weird to hear someone asking about him like that. Clearly I can tell you all you need to know, you don't even need the museum."

"He's alive, right?" Micah had to ask while shaking her hand. He wanted to say he could see some sort of family resemblance from her long dark hair, but he knew that was also too general.

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