The air by the docks was heavy with mist, the gray morning blending into the dull steel of ships towering above the brothers. The dockhands moved like shadows through the fog, their voices low and muttered. For Leon and Adélard, each step felt like venturing deeper into a labyrinth where everything looked the same, and nothing made sense.
They'd been asking around for what felt like hours, but each lead dissolved like smoke in the morning air. No one knew where their mother had gone. Some hadn't even seen her, while others seemed to find the brothers' desperation more amusing than alarming.
Leon's legs were beginning to ache, and a knot of fear tightened in his stomach. What if they never found her? What if something had happened?
But every time the thought surfaced, he pushed it down. His brother wouldn't let that happen. Adélard was like a rock, steady and unshakeable, his gaze sharp as he scanned the murky docks. If he was worried, he didn't show it. And if he didn't give up, then neither would Leon.
"Come on," Adélard said quietly, steering them toward a narrow alley between two warehouses. "There's one more place we haven't checked."
Leon glanced around uneasily. The buildings seemed to lean in around them, their dark windows like empty eyes watching their every move. The alley was damp and smelled of salt and something rotting. The farther they went, the quieter it got, until the sounds of the bustling docks were just a murmur behind them.
"Where are we going?" Leon whispered, trying not to shiver.
Adélard didn't look back. "There's a man named Hector down here. He used to work with Mother sometimes—getting odd jobs, finding work. If anyone knows where she might be, it's him."
Leon swallowed. "What… what if he doesn't know either?"
"Then we'll figure something else out," Adélard said firmly. "But let's not think about that yet."
The alley opened into a small courtyard, hemmed in by tall, crumbling buildings. It was quieter here, almost eerie, the only sound the drip-drip of water from a rusty gutter. A few men lounged against the walls, their clothes grimy and their eyes sharp as knives.
Adélard stepped forward, keeping his expression neutral but his back straight. He looked older than his years in that moment, his face set with determination.
"We're looking for Hector," he said loudly enough for the men to hear.
One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a scar across his cheek, pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over, sizing them up. He glanced from Adélard to Leon, then back again, his smile slow and mean.
"Hector, huh?" he drawled. "And who's asking?"
"Adélard Aschemist," Adélard replied, his voice steady. "I'm looking for my mother. She was here yesterday—tall woman, blonde hair. She always wears a scarf with flowers on it."
The man's gaze flicked over the brothers again, lingering on Leon in a way that made the younger boy's skin crawl. Leon stepped closer to Adélard, resisting the urge to duck behind him.
"Haven't seen her," the man said lazily. "But Hector's around. Maybe he knows."
Adélard stiffened slightly. "Where is he?"
"Right here." A new voice cut through the fog—a gravelly tone that seemed to drag against the air.
A figure stepped out from the shadows of a nearby doorway. Hector was a short, wiry man with graying hair and a face like old leather, his eyes cold and calculating. He looked them over, his gaze narrowing.
"Adélard, huh?" Hector grunted. "Haven't seen you in a while. What's a kid like you doing down here?"
"I'm looking for my mother," Adélard repeated. "She was here yesterday. You might have seen her."
Hector's eyes flickered, but he didn't respond immediately. He just stood there, scratching his chin thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving Adélard's face.
"And why would I know where she is?" he asked slowly. "You know the kind of people down here. Folks come and go. Maybe she's gone, too."
The casualness of his words sent a chill down Leon's spine, but Adélard didn't flinch.
"She's not gone," Adélard said firmly. "If she was, we'd know. And she wouldn't leave us behind."
Hector raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're awfully sure of that, kid. But hey, I like your guts."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping. "I saw her, alright? But she was in a hurry. Said she needed money. Said she was willing to do anything for it. I tried to tell her it wasn't worth it, but—"
"What do you mean, 'anything'?" Adélard interrupted sharply, his eyes flashing.
Hector shrugged. "Who knows? All I know is she went to see a man named Rourke."
Adélard stiffened at the name. "Rourke?"
Hector nodded. "Runs things down by the lower docks. Nasty piece of work, but he's got money. If your mother needed it that bad, he's the one she'd go to."
The air seemed to freeze around them. Leon looked up at his brother, feeling the shift in Adélard's posture, the tension coiled in his shoulders.
"Where is he?" Adélard demanded, his voice low.
Hector jerked his head toward the far end of the alley. "His office is in that big warehouse by the water. But listen, kid—if she's dealing with Rourke, you don't want to get involved. He's dangerous. People who go in there… sometimes they don't come out."
Adélard's jaw tightened. "Thanks for the warning. But I don't have a choice."
Without another word, he turned on his heel, tugging Leon along with him. The younger boy stumbled, trying to keep up, his heart racing.
"Adélard?" he whispered. "Who's Rourke?"
"A bad man," Adélard muttered. "But we'll handle it."
Leon's chest tightened. He didn't know much about this Rourke, but the fear in Hector's voice had been real. If their mother was mixed up with someone like that…
"Brother, what are we going to do?"
Adélard looked down at him, his gaze fierce. "We're going to get her back. Whatever it takes."
Leon nodded slowly, clutching his brother's hand tightly. They had come this far. They couldn't turn back now.
No matter what waited for them at the end of this path, they would face it together.
Because that's what family did.