“ID please?” I stumble to pull out my passport to give it to the police officer across from me. I had arrived in New York City early this morning and went straight to the police station. Maiden Mary did well to have Mr. Freedmen get me a personal jet to New York City. Mr. Freedmen, after all, owed me when months ago, I opened my mansion to hide him. I have a great many personal favors from a mélange of different people for hiding them in my house: in particular, my passport to get me to America came from a favor.
Bing!
I jump a bit at the sound of the machine the officer put my passport in.
“Here. Just go with Molly now.” I smile at the officer as I take my passport. I then turn to the brunette with a red hairband and red lipstick. Following her, I vaguely wondered if she has ever seen the show, Sherlock, to coordinate her appearance to look like the character she shares a name with. All too soon, we arrive at the morgue and Molly takes a moment to ask if I am ready to see the bodies. I take a deep breath and with as much confidence as I can muster to answer her.
“Yes. I can do this.” After all, I had figured this would happen one day when the last time Tatiana and Rick came to me, they were on the run hiding at my place.
“Okay, here goes,” she said, uncovering the first body. Without even thinking, I gasp covering my mouth before taking my hand away intrigued. “Are you okay?” Molly asked. I wave her off inspecting the body.
“Yes. . . it’s just this is. . . easier than I thought. Can you uncover the other body so I can see them together?” Molly raises an eyebrow at my odd request. She probably is not sure what to make of my weird reaction to my friend’s corpse, but I just have to make sure of something. The first body indeed looks like Rick, but there is no way this is really him. He looked exactly as he did on his wedding day thirty years ago. The last I checked only I should look the same. I’m the one who accidentally mistook a stone filled with anti-aging powers for ice and swallowed it whole at his wedding. Since that day, I have not aged, but he definitely has. In fact, Rick even had a few grey hairs the last I saw him.
“Here is the other body. Is there a reason for wanting to see both bodies,” Molly asked?
“It is just too unnatural to see one without the other,” I said looking at Tatiana who looked as eerie as Rick’s corpse: they both looked as young as they were on their wedding day. It is almost too scary to look at them, let alone touch them, but I needed to check something. “Umm, do you mind if I...” I asked Molly gesturing to the bodies.
“I don’t think that would be....,” Molly started, but I did not wait. I swiftly pulled on plastic gloves of my own from my pocket and pulled up Rick’s body a bit to look at his back before moving on to do the same with Tatiana’s body. Having given up on stopping me, Molly asked, “What are you looking for?” I nod my head in understanding.
“To see if they are really Rick and Tatiana. I gave them that cut in their back.” I did not. Molly looks at me suspiciously. I shrug. “It was at a shooting range and I am exceptional at missing my target with an arrow.” I’ve never shot an arrow in my life, but I’m pretty sure I know where that cut in their backs is from. Molly shakes her head before grabbing a clipboard and pen.
“Are you sure that these people are Rick and Tatiana Royals?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. The quicker I get through these formalities the sooner I can retrieve their bodies to test out my hypothesis for their young form.
“Please sign here and then I’ll bring you back upstairs.” I thank her as I take the clipboard to sign my name. It takes a little while longer for me to be able to leave the station. I had to give a statement to the police about how I know Rick and Tatiana and went through so much paperwork for their bodies to be released to me. It is evening by the time I leave the station and I am exhausted walking out the door.
“Bonsoir, Prof.” I immediately snap my head to the source of this voice. In front of me is a young girl with dark chocolate skin who looked almost like a punk doll. She wore a purple bonnet, a black lace-trimmed blouse with puffy blue sleeves, and a black skirt. Craning my neck to look even further down to try to find a sparkle of a memory of who this girl is I can see she has on a purple apron, thigh-high black stockings, and spotless blue suede shoes. “I’m sorry you may not be comfortable with French. Ich bin Tatiana und Rick’s kind.” The girl then proceeded to pull out a gold owl necklace. A custom-designed necklace that I gave Tatiana for her wedding gift, and just as I programmed it to do so its eyes shined when it faced me.
*German translation of "Iche bin Tatiana und Rick's kind" is "I am Tatiana and Rick's kid"
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