Emerynne avoids her aunt and her mother, and has been doing so since last Wednesday. Initially, Erika and Annika tried to talk to her via texts, calls, letters slipped under the door to her room, by verbally enjoining, by attempting to tempt her with gifts and suggesting truces. They tried to get her to sit down with them, saying that they need to stick together as a family, that they need to communicate and have empathy. Nonetheless, Emerynne spurned it all – choosing instead to spend most of her free time with either Noemi or Matthias, or simply by refusing to go home for anything other than to sleep. And eventually, the Kaufmann sisters leave her be, although not without the last word – a final letter tucked into her sketchbook reading:

We'll talk when you're ready. Stay safe.

"Stay safe." Emerynne's vexation suppurates. Hah! Stay safe. Coming from the one who's running back into the arms of her abuser.

She crumples the note and chucks it toward the bin in the corner of her room; it hits the rim and falls outside. Sighing, Emerynne lies back in bed, going through all that she can and should do to spend this Sunday. Noemi is with Fynn again; they invited her to come along, but she declined on account of not wanting to third-wheel. Matthias is out of town, as he frequently is, and will return in the afternoon, in time for their plans to have lunch together and work on The Heartsease Effect. Until then, Emerynne has four hours. 

She can pay the boutiques in the Marketplace a visit. Maybe see what's playing at the theater in Town Hall, or perhaps finally visit the Welterbemuseum Hallstatt. Or she can go to that trekking trail at the southern outskirts of Hallstatt, however she's too lazy to trek at the moment. The more she deliberates, the better the museum feels; she has been curious about the history of Hallstatt for quite some time now.

Emerynne sits up, stretches and pops a few joints, then gathers her cosmetics kit and heads to the bathroom. Erika and Annika, as always, went to work early morning, so Emerynne is spared forced confrontations and stiff silences. In the washroom, she starts by moisturizing her skin, then proceeds to her make-up. Since summer is beginning to peak, she keeps it simple – sharp, blue eyeliner to match the new color of her hair, she forgoes foundation, contouring, and highlighting, but does apply plum-red lipstick.

Checking the contents of her satchel and her wallet, she slips on her black Converses, ties a light hoodie around her waist for when it gets chilly, and walks down to the World Heritage Museum.

It is a quaint, warmly-lit, double-story building containing a small collection of artifacts from Hallstatt and the Salzkammergut area in general. Emerynne purchases the UNESCO special guided tour and is grouped alongside a loud American family. The tour starts at a flight of stairs set against the wall as they first enter; the guide tells them that dendrochronology proved they belonged to the Bronze Age, essentially dating the salt mines also. In three hours, Emerynne has learned about the digging and salt trade of the Bronze Age, the passing of eras when mining ceased and its recommencement under the Romans, the engineering of the world's oldest 'pipeline', and finally, about the proto-Roman, Germanic community of salt miners that first populated Hallstatt. Indisputably, some of their bones are still housed in the town ossuary and some of their descendants still live in Hallstatt.

And three hours, thirty minutes later, Emerynne is on her way to the Franke house. As she ambles round to the front porch, she peeks into the garage. The Volkswagen is absent; Matthias is yet to return. She settles down on at the top of the stairs and lights a cigarette to smoke while she waits.

Matthias's white pick-up truck pulls into the driveway soon enough. After parking it, he comes around and waves at her. Emerynne rises to her feet, waving back. Upon reaching the porch, he asks: have you been here long?

Not long, replies Emerynne, still quite slow at fingerspelling.

Nodding, he signs: Sonja invited us for lunch today.

"Oh, how nice. What time?"

We can go right now.

"Alright, let's go then."

The Lagerlof house is just next door. The pair are greeted by Amelie, who lets them in.

The interiors are aesthetically minimal. Somber colors, a singular rough-granite wall in the main hall, simple, yet tasteful furniture and furbishing. Amelie leads them into the dining room where another woman sits at the table, poring over her laptop. "Emery, this is my wife Sonja," Amelie introduces. Sonja lifts her head from the screen and stands, a graceful smile softening her sharp features. "Sonja, this is Emery."

"Emery," Sonja utters, her tone suavely modulated and velvety, "I've heard so much about you."

"Likewise," says Emerynne, letting Sonja pull her into a light embrace.

Stepping away, Sonja goes on to hug Matthias and drops a little peck on the side of his hair. Turning her attention back to Emerynne, she says, "well, I've heard you're a ballerina. That's quite impressive."

"Thank you," says Emerynne, "and I've heard you're a surgeon, which is also very impressive."

"Why, thank you. Come and sit. We'll lay the lunch. Matchu, make sure she's comfortable."

Matthias nods, obediently drawing a chair for Emerynne. When Sonja is in the kitchen, Emerynne looks at him, gushing, "Matchu! That's so cute." Nose wrinkling, he shakes his head at her. The pink tinge on his cheeks divulges his embarrassment, making her giggle. "I think it suits you."

Matthias releases a chagrined sound, eliciting another bout of titters from Emerynne.

The Lagerlof couple reemerge from the kitchen, each holding large serving dishes. "Emery, Matchu says you're vegan so we've made vegan food," Sonja informs, setting the dishes down and removing her laptop and papers from the table. "Stuffed bell peppers and spaghetti with veganized meatballs."

"That's so very kind of you," Emerynne says. "I hope it wasn't too much trouble. If I'd have known, I'd have brought something myself."

"Oh, no, no." Amelie mildly waves her off. "We enjoy cooking and experimenting."

"I appreciate it. This is really considerate of you guys."

"And we'd appreciate it if you give us constructive criticism, okay?"

As it eventuates, there is nothing to constructively criticize about the lunch; the peppers burst in spicy-smoky flavor, the meatballs have deliciously crunchy crusts and wonderfully umami insides, the sauce has a sublime tang that brings all the flavors together. This meal is one of the best that Emerynne has had, and so is the company. The women are amiable and sumptuous hosts, indulgent with their conversation and generous with their champagne.

Amelie and Sonja's interactions and behavior around Matthias is the purest depiction of motherliness. The way Amelie promptly refills his plate and persists that he must eat enough, the love that shines in her eyes – like a mother. How Sonja kissed him when they arrived earlier, the tenderness in her gaze and her voice when she talks to him – also like a mother. Heart melting, Emerynne has a newfound adoration and respect for these women. Their integrity and altruism are things that Matthias deserves and she is happy to know that he has them in his life.

When everyone has eaten their fill, Emerynne joins Amelie in clearing the table. Matthias and Sonja have moved to the living room to start working on the edits that he and Emerynne planned for their website schematics. Amelie's protests do not deter Emerynne from helping her all the way through – from emptying the leftovers into Tupperwares for refrigeration to washing the dishes while Amelie dries and neatly puts them away.

Expression cast in a conspiratorial grin, Amelie questions, "how's your pursuit of intimacy coming along?"

Wide-eyed, Emerynne hisses, "shh! Matthias might hear you."

"Relax. He's busy. Now spill, kiddo."

"I think it's going well," says Emerynne, "I want to like... ask him out and stuff, but I get all shy and weird around him."

Amelie raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Why's that?"

"I don't know," Emerynne admits. "The other day, after we had dinner at Rayne's Bistro, I kinda jokingly insinuated that it was our first date and he looked so startled. I thought I'd scared him."

"Aw, he's just shy. Same as you," Amelie says consolingly, adding, "he wasn't scared though. He wouldn't stop talking about that 'date' with you."

Emerynne panics momentarily. "What? Did he say it was bad?"

"No! On the contrary!" exclaims Amelie. She then lowers her voice and says, "he talks about you a lot and he only ever has good things to say."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh." Replacing the last of the utensils in its cabinet, Amelie winks at Emerynne. "So don't be afraid to shoot your shot next time."      

a/n: can't keep talking about matt's other mother and not introduce her. also, we know our shy protags need some motivation to make their move, so...