Just as Malik predicted, his grandmother and two siblings returned to their apartment later that evening following a trip to their local grocery store. They hurried inside with their arms weighed down by plastic bags. Henri and Thea immediately went to Malik's grandmother's aid. Instead of being met with gratitude, the woman regarded them with caution. As they took the grocery bags from her, she cocked her head at her eldest grandson.

"Who're you?" A little boy of about six or seven had stopped himself in front of Thea. Tiny twists of dark brown hair poked out from the bottom of the beanie atop his head.

"That's a great question, Keon," Malik's grandmother said. She squinted at the Beck siblings. "Who are these people in my house, Malik?"

"Friends of mine," he explained while taking the last bag from her. Flashing her a nervous smile, he hurried into the kitchen. "They're gonna be staying with us for the night. If that's alright."

"Staying...with us." She said the words as if he'd just told her aliens existed. "Let me get this straight. You disappear for a night and show up with some random white girl and—" She squinted at Henri. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

He extended a hand toward her. "Henri Beck, ma'am." As she warily shook it, he gestured at his sister. "That's Thea, my sister."

"Sister?" Amaya, Malik's thirteen-year-old girl sister, questioned. "Are you sure?"

"I'm adopted." Thea moved into the kitchen to help Malik put away the groceries. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Jackson."

Malik's grandmother rolled her eyes. "Call me Grams." She side-eyed her grandson. "I'm assuming you found them wherever you've been for the last twenty-four hours. Real nice of you to call, by the way. Definitely wasn't worried sick about you. I almost filed a missing person's report, you know."

Amaya shot him a disapproving look. "You know you can't get in trouble again, Mal."

Again?

More bits and pieces of the boy's secret were revealing themselves. The interaction back at the college, the comment from the receptionist at the J. Edgar Hoover Building... A few more tugs at the frayed threads keeping Malik's mystery under wraps would see the entire thing unravel. He tilted his head at the boy and studied him intently.

Malik hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Grams. I meant to call. Seriously, I did. It's just...it's been a crazy day. Super hectic."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I meant to call. Seriously, I did. I was just... It's been a crazy day."

Henri stifled a scoff. Crazy was the understatement of the century. Hectic didn't even begin to cover every that'd happened since the attack on the Smithsonian.

Grams nodded slowly before closing the apartment door. "Well, you can tell me all about it during dinner." She took off her coat, hung it on a nearby hook, and waltzed into the kitchen as if it were her throne room. She reached into one of the overstuffed bags and pulled out a case of ground turkey meat and a bag of corn tortillas. "I hope you kids are hungry."

###

Thea insisted on helping Grams prepare tonight's meal of hard-shell tacos and Spanish rice despite the woman's pleas. Henri suspected she didn't trust the girl's abilities in the kitchen based off her appearance, which might've been valid had she not been raised by one of the best cooks Henri had ever seen.

Aminata Beck might not have been a professional chef, but she could've bested a few Michelin-star chefs if she put her mind to it. Thea absorbed all the woman's teachings like a sponge while Henri failed to make rice without burning it. His father was also useless in the kitchen. It was one of the few traits they shared.

While Thea lent her hand as sous-chef to Grams, Henri and the rest of the children in the apartment got to work setting up the small dining table. They retrieved placemats, dishes, and cutlery and placed them neatly atop the table. There weren't enough chairs to seat the six of them, so Henri opted to fashion one of his own out of an empty laundry basket.

By the time dinner had finished, Henri was practically salivating. All he'd eaten that day was a honey bun from the vending machine. That wasn't exactly a balanced meal. As he, Thea, and the Jackson family took their places around the table, he did his best to not drool at the sight of his plate.

Now, he'd eaten in some of the best restaurants in the world. Thousand-dollar dinners and meticulously crafted dishes were no stranger to him. But the haphazardly constructed tacos and spread of orange rice sitting before him spurred a unique feeling within him. Perhaps it was the sense of normalcy it brought. Or maybe it was because it reminded him of how separated he was from his family—literally and figuratively.

"We make tacos every Tuesday. Taco Tuesday, you know? It's kind of a tradition," Malik told Henri.

"That's cute," he replied with a twinge of sadness in his voice. A lump rose in the back of his throat.

The Becks didn't have Taco Tuesday.

Malik picked one of his overflowing tacos up. Before he could take a bite, his mother smacked him upside the head. Scowling, he immediately put it back down before rubbing the sore spot.

"You miss one meal here and forget how we do things here." Grams shook her head at him. Then she extended her hands to either side.

Henri and Thea exchanged startled glances.

"Right, right," Malik said. "Sorry, Ma."

"Who wants to say grace?" Grams said.

"You guys actually do that before every meal?" Henri couldn't believe it.

The Beck family wasn't exactly religious. His mother held the strongest faith out of the four of them, and even she hadn't attended church in years. Praying before meals wasn't something they'd ever done. Even with his hyperthymesia, he couldn't remember the last time they shared a home meal together.

"Yes, we pray before every meal," Grams said. "Now, who'd like to do it?"

"Not me," Amaya grumbled. "I did it last night."

Malik simply shrugged.

"I'll do it," his little brother chirped.

Before he began, everyone joined hands and bowed their heads. As he was sitting beside Malik, they were obligated to join hands. Embarrassment flooded him as he felt his palms start to sweat. The other boy hadn't seemed to notice, as he simply bowed his head and closed his eyes in anticipation of the prayer. In fact, everyone else had done the same, even his sister—who was atheist as one could be.

Henri peaked through one eye to observe everyone's still faces. Across from him, the adorable Keon stumbled through his unrehearsed prayer. The scene brought a smile to his lips.

Once the little boy finished, he clapped his hands together. "Bone apple teeth!" Seconds later, his mouth was full of taco meat.

"It's bon appetit," Henri corrected.

"He knows," Malik said while ruffling the top of the boy's hair. "He thinks it's funnier that way."

"That's because it is!"

Shrugging, Malik decided to attack his food as well. Henri watched in awe as the two Jackson boys mauled their plate of tacos like a bear ravaging through a fully stocked campsite.

"Ugh," Amaya groaned from beside her mother. "Boys are disgusting."

"That's what I was about to say," Thea said.

Henri had to agree with them. At least he had table manners. Malik and Keon obviously didn't, nor did they seem to care.

"So," Grams began about fifteen minutes into dinner, "you mind telling me what's been going to, Malik?"

He took a long sip of water from the glass near his hand as his eyes shifted from his mother's. The boy seemed to hold a sense of fear for the woman. Henri wasn't sure whether to admire her for it or to fear her as well.

"It's a long story," Thea answered on Malik's behalf. "Your grandson saved us from being kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Grams exclaimed. "By who?"

Henri stirred in his seat. "We...don't know who exactly, but I have a theory." He drummed his fingers against his placemat. "Our parents were taken after we were attacked at The Smithsonian Museum last night. Whoever took them has been trying to get us too."

"They almost got us today," Thea added. "We went to the FBI for help, but..." Her words faltered as a dark look crossed over her face.

"The FBI..." Grams rubbed her temples. Then she turned to Malik. "What kind of trouble did you just bring into my house?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but Henri spoke first.

"I'm not sure if you heard my sister before," he started, "but he saved us. Without us, we might've been kidnapped too. Or worse."

"We appreciate your hospitality," Thea added. We didn't want to intrude in your home, but Malik insisted we stay here for the night. We'll be gone by the morning, I promise."

Grams went quiet for a few seconds. She seemed to be calculating the situation beyond her dark eyes. Finally, she nodded slowly. "Well, if you're truly friends of my Malik, then we're happy to have you here. Ever since the incident, he's found it hard to make friends."

"Ma," Malik warned with his eyes bulging.

"Sorry, sorry."

Henri's curiosity bubbled inside him like boiling water. "I keep hearing about this incident. What...what exactly happened?"

"We don't have to talk about it," Malik interrupted. While his skin might've been too dark to reveal his blush, it was apparent his face was burning with the force of a thousand suns. "It's not a big deal. Leave the past in the past, right?"

"Right..."

Before anyone could say anything else, he popped up from his seat with his empty plate in hand. "I'll do the dishes tonight." With that, he fled the dining table and sought refuge at the kitchen sick. Henri watched him curiously the entire time as his brain theorized about what the boy's "incident" could've been. He didn't want to pry, as Malik clearly didn't want to talk about it, but that did nothing for his piqued interest.

He thought back to when they met one of Malik's ex-teammates on his old college campus. This incident, whatever it was, stopped him from playing basketball. It might've even gotten him kicked out of his school. Poor grades couldn't be ruled out, but Henri knew plenty of dumb students who finessed their way through school.

But he had a feeling something else caused Malik to leave school and work nights at the museum.

"Well, Henri and Thea," Grams said. Her strong voice yanked Henri out of his thoughts as if he were a fish caught on a line. "You two don't look like the troublemakers Malik used to involve himself with. Please, tell me about yourselves."

"You mean you haven't heard of us?" Henri asked.

Thea rolled her eyes. "Of course she hasn't, you idiot. Our parents are the celebrities, not us."

"I'm just saying. Who knows, maybe she's heard—"

"Wait a minute." Grams' brow creased. "Your parents are celebrities? What'd you say your last name was again?"

After they told her, she still didn't seem to know who they were talking about. It wasn't often that Henri had to explain who his parents were. Almost everywhere he went, people seemed to know them. Their status was likely the reason Henri and Thea made it into half the places they'd been thus far.

There was something refreshing about the mundane normality of Malik's home life. There weren't any preconceived notions inside Gram's house—at least, not the kind he was used to dealing with when it came to meeting other people in their social stratosphere.

"So, your millionaire historian parents were kidnapped, and this isn't all over the news?" Grams shook her head in disbelief.

"Arkangel's probably keeping it under wraps," Henri told her. "That is, if it is them behind this."

"Now that's a name I recognize." The older woman frowned deeply. "They manufacture Keon's medicine. I swear, every couple of months the price goes up. Sooner or later, we might have to start looking at alternatives."

Henri glanced at the little boy, who seemed to have a perpetual smile on his cherubic face. Keon didn't look sick, but many illnesses operated under the surface. If his ailment required medication from Arkangel Industries, it must've been serious.

"Why would a pharmaceutical company take your folks?" the woman inquired.

"They're not just a pharmaceutical company," Thea explained. "But to answer your question, I think our parents found something during their expedition through Egypt—something Arkangel really wants to find. Our Dad is the key to getting to it. At least, that's what they made it seem like."

"Well, what are they looking for?"

"A library."

Grams frowned. "A library?"

Henri nodded. "We know it sounds absurd. They're searching for the Library of Alexandria—which may or may not even exist. We don't know. But apparently, some people out there think it does. I don't think it's simply the library they're after, though. I think it's what might be inside."

"And what's inside?"

He didn't answer. That's because he didn't have one. Once Grams realized this, she let out a sigh.

"So, the FBI's going to rescue them then? You mentioned earlier you went to them for help."

"We...don't know."

Henri clenched his fists beneath the table. "We can't go to anyone else for help. We have to do this on our own."

"On your own?" The grey-haired woman laughed. "You're kidding, right? How the hell are two children supposed to stage a rescue mission? You two aren't little international spies, are you?"

"No, we're not," Thea said.

"Also, we're not children. She's twenty and I'm eighteen."

Grams chuckled. "Like I said. Children."

He pursed his lips. "We'll figure something out. All I know is we can't involve anyone else in this. For their safety."

"What do you call this then? Surely you staying in my apartment for the night is involving my family. My grandson has also been helping you, it seems. That means he's already involved."

Henri stammered as he struggled to form a rebuttal. She had a point. If Sergei and his men were tracking them, they very well could've traced them to this apartment building. They were potentially putting Malik and his family at risk just by spending the night there. Flashes of the quick gunfight in Callahan's office probed through his psyche.

If something like that happened to Grams or any of Malik's siblings, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"Maybe we should leave now then—"

"Nonsense." Grams waved his words off. "You and your sister are staying here for the night." She winked at him. "I keep a .45 in my closet."

He wasn't sure that would be enough to thwart Sergei if it came down to it. Nonetheless, he appreciated her support.

"You're going to need a plan," the woman continued. "Do you have any leads? Any information that could help you find out where your parents were taken?"

They didn't. Sergei was still in the country hunting them down. Henri wasn't sure what that meant for his parents. Were they being held somewhere in Washington D.C.? He doubted it. If Arkangel needed them to help find the Library of Alexandria, they were probably on the way to Egypt by now if they weren't already.

Getting from America to Egypt shouldn't have been difficult for the Beck siblings. After all, they had enough in their trust funds to support them for decades. But their parents controlled those funds, and they weren't exactly around right now. All of Henri's belongings—including his wallet full of credit cards and the cellphone housing his banking apps—perished in the fire.

Thea still had her phone on her, though. Perhaps she could purchase them a couple of plane tickets to Cairo.

But even if she could, Grams was right. They needed a plan. He and Thea couldn't just waltz into Egypt hoping to find their parents. They'd have to track down Arkangel, figure out how they'd rescue their parents without being killed, and escape with their lives. Seal Team Six would even struggle with a mission that complicated.

Henri felt himself shrinking into himself.

"We know we need a plan," Thea eventually said. "We'll figure one out tomorrow before we leave." She rose from her seat with her empty plate in hand. Smiling, she nodded at Grams. "Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful."

"You're welcome, Thea." She regarded the girl with a wary glance. "I hope you and Henri know what you're doing."

He resisted the urge to laugh. "Oh, we have no idea what we're doing. But we have to do whatever it is. I'm sure you understand. If it was Malik or—"

"I understand completely. If any of my children had been taken, I would've lifted heaven and earth to find them."

"Grams is strong like that!" Keon said with a toothy grin. "She's the strongest."

Henri believed him.

He just hoped he had the same strength when the time came.