Reunion Road
Note: I've chosen three weeks and a day forward of the last hard date for our campaign I have, 20 April 1870. Given the game canon as established on 15 Aug 2015 references events from our Yucatan Time Stone mission in the past tense, I felt the time jump of 2 weeks and 1 day to be a reasonable amount to get everything done and everyone back to England..—Maer
Saturday, 07 May 1870
Josephine's Mews, Little York Place
London, England
3:30 p.m., local time
Josephine had everything on her tea tray in readiness for Evie's visit. Lemon, milk, sugar. Tea pot filled with hot water, warming under its cozy. Cups and saucers, mismatched and yet harmonizing prettily. Sandwiches waiting under a dampened towel to keep them soft. A small plate of chocolates. Even a vase of violets, a fragrant memento of the previous night's adventures. A double shot glass stood duty as a vase for the demitasse spoons, a metal counterpoint to the flowers.
She frowned, tucking secondhand napkins from Petticoat Lane in a spare corner of the tray. She was oddly unsettled and it made her fidget with the china, caused her to pace back and forth between her kitchen table and the kettle sitting warm on the hob. Dissatisfied, she stalked off to her larder, her boot heels rapping on the stone floor. She rummaged through the provisions on the open shelves, looking for something to add to the tray. The shelves offered nothing that suited her. She frowned and checked the tray and kettle again.
Dammit, Jo. Stop dithering. Evie isn't coming for your crumpets or china. She's coming here for you.
Nevertheless, she couldn't stop pacing.
Quentin watched bemusedly as his wife fussed over the tea tray. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her fuss over something so much that didn't include cleaning her weapons and reporting to the Colonel. Heck, she’s already spent more time on this tray than she did picking out her wedding dress.
He looked around the kitchen that served as a storeroom and library and recalled the loft overhead. The place was assuredly hers: an eclectic mixture of Trumpshaws and things found around the neighborhood, along with a few items from her early life on the Continent. She took a pride in its eccentricity and its location, though precisely why she took pride in living in an area where thieves might attempt to rob you any time of day was unclear to him. He enjoyed it as an extension of her.
Three weeks here now. At least we finally got a larger bed. That cot she called a bed wasn’t fit for one person, much less two, even if we are newlyweds.
He cleared his throat. "Jo, do you want some help or should I just stand around looking decorative?"
"By all means, help, please." Josephine sighed, turned around, and let her hands fall to her side in exasperation. She crossed the floor to where Quentin leaned back on a kitchen chair, sat on his lap, and slipped her arms around him for balance. "I need a distraction, love. Otherwise I shall simply fidget myself to pieces."
Quentin slid his right hand around his wife's waist and twined his left hand in hers. "Distraction I can do." He stood, lifting her to her feet. "There's this dance I learned in Buenos Aires."
Josephine laughed and smiled up at him. "Lead on, sir."
Evaline unconsciously smoothed down the slight wrinkles in her dress and then sighed and forced herself to keep her hands still. Her handlers in Russia (as she thought about most of them) were constantly telling her to stop moving about so much, that it made her look "twitchy". But she just couldn't help it. Which, when she thought about it, was very amusing. When she was Evie, she could sit still for hours on end, waiting for a shift change. But when she was Evaline, she couldn't bear the lack of motion. All the more evidence she really was two people in the same body.
The carriage wheels rattled on the street as the horses brought her closer to Jo's house. Well, her and Pavel, she amended to herself, looking up at Pavel sitting calmly in the seat across from her. She had managed to convince the Colonel that he hadn't needed to send his own guards with her but she had known better than to try and get Pavel to stay home. And he wouldn't come in, anyway, he would just stand politely at the door, keeping an eye out. And that was probably a good idea when it was Evaline visiting.
She had thought about coming in as Evie, through the skylight like old times. But she needed some practice as Evaline. Like dipping an unwary mark, playing each side of who she was still required some work every now and again. And over the last few weeks, she had spent a lot of time as Evie, running with the jaguars and all.
Besides, she thought, I really want Jo to see how good of a job I've done becoming Evaline. Or what a great scam I'm running. Either way.
And with that thought, the carriage pulled a noisy halt. She looked out the window to confirm they had, indeed, stopped in front of Jo's familiar doorstep. Pavel got out and helped her out of the carriage. She smiled at him and said, "I'll try not to keep you waiting too long. I'll bring food if I do." Pavel shrugged as if to say that whether she brought food would be immaterial. She shook her head at the idea that she rated a bodyguard. And now that she thought about it, had she ever come in through Jo's front door before? Maybe only that first time that Jo had brought her back. Maybe I am entering like old times, she thought and stepped forward, knocking firmly at Jo's door.
Quentin and had just rolled his wife into a deep dip when he heard the knock. "I do believe the butler is still on holiday," he said before pulling Josephine to her feet. "I suspect that is our guest. Should I answer or do you want honours?"
"We'll go together." Josephine cut a roguish grin, linked arms with her husband, and pulled him toward the front door. She was grateful that Quentin's long legs kept pace with her hurried step but as she crossed the front room, she faltered. She smoothed her dress and hair, uncharacteristically flustered.
What if too much has changed between us? What if Evie and Quentin dislike each other? She'd thought not, but the thrill of seeing Evie again might have blinded her to the truth. Sentiment has no place in the Game, Jo, her father whispered from memory. This isn't the Game, Father. This isn't a mission. This is my heart and hers. There being nothing for it, Josephine took a deep breath, banished her last minute doubts, and opened her door with a smile. It grew wider and warmer when she saw who stood on the step.
"Hello, Evaline." Two words only, but they spoke volumes. Then: "Do come in."
Evaline (Evie?) noticed there was someone else in the room but she only had eyes for Josephine. She smiled as she stepped in, back in familar territory. Once she got past the door, she curtsied, an action that had been completely foreign to her just a few years but now was as practiced as picking a lock. She shyly smiled, head down and eyes up, focused on Jo and quietly asked, "How have I done, mother?"
Oh, Evie...! Her heart aching with love and pride, Josephine swept Evie in a fierce hug and closed her eyes to keep her tears from spilling over. Evie's Eldren frame felt unfamiliar in Josephine's arms but Evie's spirit was like warm sunlight on a summer's day, brightly shining and banishing all doubt. Taking a deep breath and missing the cat scent she knew so well, Josephine whispered into Evie's ear, "Magnificently, my darling. Simply magnificently."
"The road ain't ended yet," she whispered back. "I missed you, Jo." And she had. She hadn't even realized how much until this moment, with her tightly holding the woman who had helped give her everything.
Then Evie stepped back and grinned, letting herself slip back into the cant. "But that's all the scraping you get, Jo. Now it's time for you to shed light on the dark of him." Evie nodded her head towards the man standing next to Josephine. It was clear just from his posture and the way he looked at Jo that he was over heels for her. Who was this man that had captured the heart of her favorite spymaster?
"Of course." Josephine breathed a shaky laugh and drew back, her hands on her cheeks as if to hide her merriment … or her tears. She put the starch back in her spine and cut an impish smile at her former protégé and partner. "It's a long story and I refuse to tell it standing up. I've tea ready. This way," she said, twining her arms with Evie's and Quentin's before leading them both back to the kitchen.
She'd steadily made improvements in the months since Evie's last visit. There was a square carpet in the front room and a polished bench for waiting clients. The chairs at Josephine's desk were cushioned where before they'd been plain wood. Bookcases flanked the door to the rear and books actually sat on the shelves. The gas jets were no longer bare but fitted with frosted globes that softened the flickers and warmed the room.
Then they went through to the kitchen and the majority of the improvements were revealed. White mantle lamps in milky glass shades hung in regular intervals overhead, throwing a steady bright light. Reading would no longer be a prolonged strain on the eyes. The tall bookcase shelves marched in their soldierly ranks on the right. The short alleys they made beckoned with the curiosities that Josephine collected there: books, maps, equipment for expeditions, and pantry stores. The stairs to her loft doglegged on the left and a rack of wall hooks graced the angled landing five steps up. The sink and cook stove sat primly in their rear corner, spit polished porcelain and blacked iron, and the sturdy oak table, a full nine feet by three, held pride of place in the center of the room. The table's long benches had cushions marking the places and two Winsor back chairs sat at either end. Centered on the table was the tray that had vexed Josephine prior to Evie's arrival, graced with china and food.
"Do have a seat," Josephine offered.
Evie could tell as she walked along that Jo wanted to show off some. And that was okay by her. After all, Evie had gotten her chance as she entered. Who was she to deny Jo her shine?
As they approached the table, Evie resisted her cat like urge to jump on the table and sit cross legged. She was Evaline today and being Evaline meant standing patiently, waiting for the gentleman to seat her and then Josephine (or perhaps in the other order, she mused). So she did exactly that.
Hrm . . . Well, I should at least show the lady a seat. Years of dinner parties and boys school formals took over. Walking to the right of the head of the table, Quentin made a deep bow, withdrawing the chair with his left hand even as he indicated it with his right. He elevated his eyes to look at his wife's guest. "Ma'am".
Evie might have preferred less formal (and had hoped use of cant might have indicated that), but that carriage had pulled away the moment she decided to come as Evaline. Not like she hadn't gotten her share of formal dinner parties in court ...
As she looked into his eyes, she smiled politely but warmly (a talent by itself, she thought). "Sir, my thanks." Evie then fiddled with her dress and as he pushed her chair in, came to a seat.
She liked the table, it was clearly a step up from Jo's last dining setup, which was so much more piecemeal. This felt like Jo, even so. The only thing that would make it more in line with how Evie remembered the place would be for it to have a selection of maps or books stretched across it.
"Thank you," Josephine said as Quentin as he seated her. Darling, said her tone and her smile. She waited until Quentin settled at the head of the table before she poured the tea.
"You asked how Quentin and I first met," she said as she handed the first cup to Evie and following it with the sugar bowl. She remembered Evie preferred it sweet. Josephine cut a look at her husband as she poured his cup and gave it to him. A tiny smile curled at the corner of her lips as she poured her own cup and added a dollop of cream, stirring it slowly. "If I recall correctly, I woke tied to a chair, suspended back to back with him over a lime pit in East End."
Of course she was. That was Jo, simple and pure. Evie twirked a bit of a smile as she maneuvered a few cubes of sugar into her cup. If it weren't complicated, it weren't Jo. And Evie guessed that went for Jo's men, too.
"I was there on the Colonel's business," Josephine continued after she'd taken a sip. "I was hunting an assassin. Quentin was hunting for his sister. In so doing, we inconvenienced the Asian Tong of Limehouse and that was how they thought to get rid of us." Her eyes twinkled merrily over the rim of her cup as she glanced at Quentin. "To this day, I am not quite certain who was more surprised by our escape, the Tong or Quentin and I. Would you like a sandwich, Evie? There is ham or cucumber as well as curried egg." Josephine picked up a pair of tongs and a clean plate from the stack sitting beside the tray and waited for Evie to indicate her choice.
"I do believe it was the Tong who was most surprised by our little escapade," Quentin drawled as he put a slice of lemon into his tea. "I do hope we taught them the error of their ways, though I doubt it."
"We had ample opportunity to hammer that lesson home," Josephine agreed. She tipped her head toward Evie and said, "At least a dozen times. We had to fight our way out through several floors and back alleys but in the end, we won free and made our way back to the Colonel. And after that, Quentin made his way to Egypt, where he delivered the lesson to the Tong's associates."
"But get to the good bits," Evie impatiently leaned forward a bit. "So how did you, you know, come together? As more than just adventurers, I mean." She wanted to hear about how Jo ended up in his bed, by Hell's Bells!
She smiled that well practiced innocent face of hers. Jo might not buy it, but Quentin probably would. It did have a way of softening any of her impatient requests.
"Oh, and I will partake of a ham sandwich." The cat in her was never far...
"Well," Quentin drawled with a smile. "There was the point where we were bound and suspended off that beam by the Tong. We exchanged boot knives."
"It was the least I can do," Josephine explained as she served up Evie's choice on a small plate. Once everyone had been served, she sat with her tea and stole a glance at Quentin over the rim of her cup. Had she been alone with Evie, she would not have hesitated to dish out the details but with Quentin present, she was suddenly unsure of what she could say. She discreetly nudged Quentin's foot under the table and continued. "He'd lent me his to cut us free and I lost it moments later neutralizing an adversary. It wasn't long after that when Quentin had to take his leave of London. I didn't see him again until a few months ago in February. The Colonel sent us to the Balkans to investigate suspicious activity and that was when we finished forming the partnership that began in Limehouse."
Finished forming the partnership? Is that was this was, an agreement between two individuals to get married because they worked well together? It could just be the formality of the lunch setting that was keeping the story so...well, normal. Normal for Jo at least.
Evie had kind of hoped after her and Alexi that Jo had found...well...a better reason to get married. She grabbed her ham sandwich and started eating. Having food in her mouth would keep her from running off her mouth and saying something stupid. She didn't have any right or place to judge. What went on in the dark of a marriage wasn't laid open to anyone but those in it. Evie lived that every day.
"And well, getting married, that was actually your husband's doing," Quentin said to Evie. "He was rather intent on it once he caught up with us. I hope you won't take this amiss, ma'am, but your husband can get some of the craziest ideas inna his head sometimes."
Evie almost spit a bite of ham out of her mouth and barely managed to cover her startlement. Quentin didn't know the half of it. She shouldn't have been so surprised by that fact. Alexi was a meddler...a fidgeter. That was why his eyes wandered. But she had just thought that he might not play Cupid with someone he had slept with in the past. Now you know better, chimed in her inner voice. And how long will it be before he fidgets his way out of your marriage?
Maybe she really ought to see that lawyer Neese suggested, Evie internally conceded. Not to necessarily do anything. She still wanted what she and Alexi had to work. But from her thieving days, she knew it was always best to have a backup plan, no matter how smooth the road ahead looked.
"Quentin." Josephine gave her husband's arm an affectionate swat as she rose for her pantry shelves and disappeared behind them. Soft sounds of bottles shifting underscored her words as she continued, "You make it sound quite horrible, as if we were married off in a shotgun wedding. I assure you, Evie, it wasn't anything unseemly. I'll have you know that—."
A crash was followed by an aggravated sigh and Josephine stepped into view with a broken wine bottle in her hands, her dress doused in red.
"I was saving this for a special occasion, but …," she shrugged and breathed a laugh. "Quentin, darling, would you be so kind as to run out to the Celluccis and ask if they've a decent red to spare while I change out of this?" She nodded toward Regents Park. "Please?"
"Jo," Quentin said mock seriously as he put down his napkin and rose. "I hate to say this but you've got red on you."
"And as usual, none of it's mine." Josephine stood on tip toe to kiss his nose and he carefully took the bottle from her hands.
Quentin knew when he was being dismissed, and was glad for the reason to let the girls talk amongst themselves. He circled his arms around his wife for a quick hug and return kiss. "I'll hurry back." But not too quickly.
"We'll be here," Josephine promised, her eyes smiling as she caught his unspoken message. She deftly took the ruined bottle so he could grab his coat and leave. By the time the front door closed, she had traded the broken bottle for an intact bottle of white and was marching for the sink. "White wine removes red, so we'll just set it to soak."
As she spoke, she plugged the drain, stripped out of her skirt and bodice without batting an eye, and once they were in the sink, emptied the bottle over her clothes. She turned to Evie standing in her boots and underthings, throwing a glance at the floor above. "Come up and keep me company while I change? We can talk until Quentin returns." Josephine's smile deepened as she saw Evie's metaphorical whiskers twitch. "I know you're dying for the details of how he and I … met."
Evie grinned the grin of a cat who had gotten exactly what she wanted. "Of course, Jo."
She gave some thought to changing to Evie-form, but it sometimes played havoc with dress and bustle. And honestly, she wasn't sure how much Jo had told Quentin about what her situation was. She'd hate for him to come back and find a strange beastie in the room with his wife in her underthings. People would talk, she thought, amused.
"Race you there!" Josephine ran happily for the stairs. She didn't think she would win. That wasn't her goal. It felt like old times again. Evie was here! Josephine wanted to run, laugh, do some crazy wild thing. In the many months since Evie's transformation and wedding, Josephine had scarce opportunity to visit her. Those occasions she'd had, they were both under observation and Josephine, in particular, had been on the Colonel's business.
But tonight, oh tonight, we shall play ...
Josephine's sudden intense desire to draw the evening out, to suck the fullest measure of joy from it, slowed her steps so as to make it last ... but not by much! The race was a challenge, not a cinch. Neither she nor Evie would countenance anything less.
Evie picked up the front of her dress and ran for the stairs herself. Now she really wished she had changed back to her normal form, but she'd make do with what she had.
She gave Jo the straight line to the stairs because she had a plan - something she used to do back when she was walking the rooftops. Jo was on the first stair when Evie used one hand on the rail to jump, almost float, onto the railing itself where she started to run up the rail, getting ready for the right hand turn that was about to come up.
"Oh, you sly cat, you!" Josephine cried merrily, not put out in the least. She simply poured on the speed and thundered up the treads.
The tricky part was the turn. She only had one hand free for balance, with the other holding up her dress. She had tossed off her shoes on the run, but she didn't have the grip with her feet that she would have had if she had paws. And last and most importantly, it was a sharp turn and the weight of the dress was throwing her off balance.
Evie had to slow down to make it and she almost fell off the rail, teetering as she came around the corner. It let Jo get ahead of her for the moment, but Evie put on the speed. A win was still within reach. And Evie didn't like losing...
Josephine measured Evie's pride against her difficulty in stockings and had to suppress the impulse to slow her pace. However much she wanted to keep Evie safe, she wanted to preserve Evie's spirit even more. The latter would always ensure the former. So instead, she gave it her all and made it an honest contest.
Evie sprinted up the last part of the rail and dove for the upper landing, hitting the floor with her hands and rolling to a semi stand. Kind of. The dress had gotten a bit tangled in the process and she was pretty sure she wasn't going to be able to stand without either straightening the dress...or tearing it.
She looked around and Jo was standing there and Evie realized that in the process of tumbling, she had completely lost track of who had crossed first. It had been close. Very close.
She looked up at Jo. "Who won?" Then she smiled. "And can I get a hand getting untangled?"
"Of course!" Josephine gave Evie her hand and put her back into it, hauling the young woman up. "And I believe you won." Josephine's lips curled deeply on a wry smile, adding, "By a cat's whisker."
Evie grinned. "I'll take it, even if it ain't true. Bird in the mouth is worth two in the hand and all." She lifted a foot up and straightened a stocking as she delicately balanced on the other foot. She was proud she hadn't let the physical skills fade while she worked on how to survive in the Russian court. "So, let's get you changed, hmmm?"
"Oh," Josephine said, glancing down at herself before walking to her trunk. It sat upright beside a larger bed and a smaller wardrobe. "Perhaps we should. And you? I still maintain a change for you here."
"If you think Quentin wouldn't find it strange..."
"He has traveled the world over and sampled many of its female mysteries," Josephine chuckled. "I daresay a change of clothing would hardly make him bat a lash." As she spoke, she quickly pulled out clothing more suitable for both of them.
"I more meant a different kind of change, Jo." She had shared her secret with more people than she had expected. And Quentin probably already knew. But habits died hard and she had been keeping all kinds of secrets for most of her admittedly short life.
"I know what you meant." Josephine put a change of clothing on the bed and faced Evie squarely. "Perhaps I should mention that this is also a man who faced down a vampire cult to rescue their sacrificial victim while they called forth the forces of Hell. I truly do not think the sight of you in trousers would give him pause." If the memory of that night bothered her, Josephine refused to let it show. "The sight of me in them certainly hasn't."
"Bloody Queen's balls, Jo, I meant, does he know who I really am?" And that really answers the question for yourself, doesn't it, Eglantine Varney?
She might be two people in one body, but when it came down to it, she thought of herself as the beastie girl who had made her way up from the streets. Take the girl out of the streets, but you can't take the streets out of the girl.
"No." Josephine smiled a catlike smile. "And yes." She quickly stripped to the skin and donned the clothing she felt best in: a combination of shirtwaist and jodhpurs, waistcoat and boots. "I've told him a little about you, that you were once my partner. He's an intelligent man, Evie. He knows what that would entail. He is not inflexible in thought or action. Nor is he the sort to insist on convention where it would promote hypocrisy or harm." Her voice going oddly soft, Josephine added, "Were he, I would have given him the slip in Limehouse."
Aw, hell. Josephine trusted Quentin. Was the concern of a secret that was no longer really as big a secret worth hurting Josephine's feelings? If she chose not to change, despite wanting to, Evie was saying that she didn't trust Quentin, and therefore didn't trust Josephine. And no statement she could make would be farther from the truth.
So she reached up and pulled off her necklace and let herself change into her cat form. Well, she thought, among the many benefits was the fact that it made it easier to get out of the dress. Of course, she'd have to change back in before leaving. Couldn't risk someone who had seen her go in as Evaline see her leaving with Pavel as Evie. But it was worth it.
"Oh—!" Josephine cried softly and crushed Evie in a fierce hug, dress and all. She buried her face in Evie's fur and the clean feline scent made her nearly weep. She drew a shaky breath and whispered, "I've missed you so much."
"I missed you too, Jo." She hugged Jo back tight. "We need to not let it be so long. I needed you." She hadn't realized until now exactly how much.
"I …," Josephine began and then wilted all the way to the wide worn planks of the loft floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and hid her face in them. "I know I've been … reticent about my life with Quentin but … Were it not for him, Evie, I would not be alive with you now. That cult would have killed me for their blood magic and I would be screaming in hell. I hope you will not think less of me when I say I am so very glad to have been spared that." Josephine raised her head. "But I swear to you, Hell itself notwithstanding, if you need me, Evie, I will claw out of its deepest pit to go to you. Hell does not easily give up its own. But then again," Josephine added, steely despite the tears trembling on her lashes. "Neither do I."
Evie shivered a little. She still didn't much like thinking about those dark places. They still occasionally haunted her dreams. Thankfully, less and less frequently. But she pushed the shivers away by giving Jo another hug.
"So," she said as she released Jo from the hug, "tell me about the man who stole your heart?"
Josephine hugged Evie back and ducked her head again, this time to hide a blush. Quentin did that to her. "He is ... not what I expected, Evie," Josephine breathed. "No matter where the mission took us in Romania, he didn't interfere, he acted independently, and together we accomplished more than I could have alone. I didn't fear being stifled or weighed down by him. On the contrary, he gave me wings. I could go as far as I must with him at my side. It was ... strange and frightening and exhilarating all once." Josephine rose, stretched her hands toward the beams overhead, and spun on her toes. Then quick as a cat, she sank on her haunches to hug Evie again. "I have you to thank for this, do you know that?"
"How do you mean, miss?" To Evie's ears, she sounded just like the street girl she had once been. She knew that she was an equal with Jo now, but sometimes she just fell back into old habits. Maybe because, she thought, it was hard to think of your mother as an equal. She shook it off and continued onward, honestly curious. "I mean, I don't see how." And she really didn't. It was her what owed, not the other way around.
For an answer, Josephine drew her father's watch from her pocket and held it so Evie could see it.
“I found this amongst my things after my father left.” Josephine stroked the watch with her thumb, her eyes shuttered as memories came and went. “I think he knew he wasn’t coming back and in my heart of hearts, I think I knew it too. My heart and I stopped talking from that day forward, but I listened when it spoke to me about you.” She slid a look at Evie, her lips gently twisting in smile of wisdom won through pain. “It told me it was time to love again.”
"We both rolled triples then, didn't we, Jo?" Where Evie had ended up was so far beyond the dreams she had when she was little...she might as well have pictured herself on the moon. And she owed all of that to Jo taking a few moments to talk to a street urchin rather than just find a block walker and turn her in.
"We did," Josephine agreed. "Little though either of us expected it." She paused and looked down, oddly shy. "When you arrived, you called me 'Mother'. A slip of the tongue, perhaps? I wouldn't try to ... that is ... I—I cannot presume to trespass upon her memory. I know how much she means to you." Josephine understood that although Evie had come far from the street urchin of years ago, her heart was still tender in many ways and Evie's mother was ground she took pains to tread carefully, if at all. Josephine dared look up, hoping she hadn't ruined everything.
Evie smiled a big grin at Jo. "You've been everything a mother would be to me, Jo. I still miss my mother, but she'd love that you loved me the way you have. I was so jangled up about her when I was young, I couldn't tell you what you deserved to hear." Then she got a little nervousness of her own. "It ain't scribed in a book anywhere and maybe never can be, but it's scribed where it's important." And she put her hand over her heart.
A warm joyous pain twisted through Josephine's chest and she couldn't speak. She could only pull Evie to her and hug her hard and try to catch her breath again. Her memories stirred and her father whispered from deep inside.
Tell her, Jo, he said. It's time. Don't make her wait as I had with you.
Josephine held Evie tighter and took a deep breath of the clean cat scent she loved. Bolstered by it, she straightened and gently cupped Evie's face in her hands. "You thought you would steal my purse the day we met. Instead, you stole my heart. I've loved you from the beginning, Evie, and I've always been proud of you. You will always be my daughter, no matter what happens or what anyone says. And no matter where you go or what you do or with whom, I will always love you and you will always have me to come home to ... because I love you and no one and nothing can steal that from me and you."
Josephine's throat tightened and her voice cracked as she set free what she'd carried unspoken for years. She gently ran her hands to the cat girl's shoulders and gave her a trembling smile.
"Til the road ends," Josephine promised. "And beyond."
Evie grabbed Jo in another hug, not saying anything. After all, everything important had just been said.
—Finis—
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