Hannabella glanced up for only a second as Martin pushed open her door and launched us into her office space. It was a small room, mostly taken up by the mountains of paper and boxes that came with being a member of the refugee board. Hannabella sat hunched over her desk, a pair of dainty spectacles on her nose, silently counting out figures from a letter. She held up one finger for us to wait as she finished up and scrawled something at the bottom.

"Oh, Ferdinand, how nice to see you again," she said, getting up to kiss both his cheeks before flopping back in her seat and feigning exhaustion with drooping arms and her head thrown back. "As you can see, I've been quite busy. My apologies to you and the LeClaires for not coming to visit."

Ferdinand shook his head. "There's nothing to apologize for. There were enough visitors as it was, even at such an early hour this morning. And I think the LeClaires are enjoying teasing the inevitable arrival of Mrs. Hannabella Lephard, renowned opera singer and the queen's favorite."

"I'll make sure to come by when the most people will see me so the LeClaires can get as much fame from it as they possibly can," Hannabella said.

Martin practically hopped from foot to foot, chewing on his lips and looking like he might want to leap into the conversation at any second. I nearly felt the same as him. Whatever he had to say, I wanted to know it as soon as possible.

"Sorry, I think Martin brought us in here to tell us all something," I said, butting in just as Hannabella was launching into a tale about her last show which sold out in a matter of minutes. I felt horrible at her shocked blinking, but if Martin wasn't allowed to speak sometime soon, I felt I might burst.

Martin cleared his throat, his hand jamming into his jacket pocket. "Yes, thank you, Nadia. I haven't been entirely honest with everyone." When Hannabella's eyes widened and her mouth fell open, he quickly raised his free hand in the air. "Oh, no, no, not that I mean I've been lying to everyone! Merely that I omitted a little project that I began to work on a few days ago."

Hannabella narrowed her eyes. "Martin, will you just spill the beans already? You're making Nadia sick, the poor darling!"

My stomach felt positively crawling with nerves, so I knew I must look pale. Martin stared at me with horror.

"Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry!" he said, rushing toward me and then stopping again. "Well, I guess I'll just say it. I sent out enquiries to some of my contacts in the Misplaced Records ministry, asking about any information they might have about a family with the surname Surikov."

I blinked, not immediately able to make my mind and mouth work in concert. I gaped at Martin, wondering if I had heard him correctly. "You were asking about my family?" I finally managed to choke out.

"Yes. The Office of Misplaced Records is an organization set up by one Galina Mosin, a socialite and expatriate of Rumonin. She fled the city soon after the first Vigilant Men uprising, and set up a ministry here in Flauns, devoted to restoring what had been lost in the riots. Little did she know her work would be made a hundred times more complicated when the Vigilant Men struck again!"

"Martin! Keep to the point!" Hannabella wailed.

"Yes! Yes, sorry! Anyway, she has done her best to collect records that were lost in Rumonin. Deaths, thefts, births, anything. I wrote to her about Nadia's family, just on the off-chance she might know something of them. I felt so bad for our Nadia. I didn't want to just stand idly by while she came into our city with no one and nothing." He smiled at me, soft and tender. "I kept it a secret because I didn't think Galina would even get back to me. I didn't want to get Nadia's hopes up. But today... I received a letter, rushed over by an express courier no less! I haven't a chance to read it yet."

He pulled from his pocket a crumpled piece of paper, which he brandished in the air. An elegant handwriting spilled across the page in emerald green ink, so fanciful that it seemed like it must have come from a castle or time long forgotten. Martin folded the wrinkles out of the paper, offering it to me, but my hands shook too much to take it from him. I shook my head, stepping back.

"I- I can't. Please. Could you?" I barely knew how the words even made it across my lips. My whole face felt as numb as a child spending all day in the snow. Ferdinand pressed up against my side, one hand reaching down to take mine. The warmth of his palm steadied me a bit as Martin cleared his throat and peered at the letter.

"Well, it says, 'Dear Mr. Leopard, I hope you are doing well? I was so pleased to receive your letter. I have been recovering from a small illness, but am feeling much more like myself with each passing day. As you may have heard, my dear friends have been hosting me at their--"

"Oh for goodness sakes!" Hannabella cut in, grabbing the paper from him and taking it with her to sit at her desk. "We don't need to hear every single word, Martin. The poor girl is ready to faint waiting to hear about her family."

Martin sheepishly shrugged, and Hannabella centered her spectacles on her nose. In a clear voice, so perfectly trained for drama on the stage, she skipped through the pleasantries and went straight to what we all wanted to hear.

"I looked into the surname you inquired about, and was able to find records pertaining to a Count Leonid Surikov and Countess Helyna Surikov, along with their five children. I am sorry to report that most of the family was killed during the Uprising, and that the Count was killed during this current attack. My heart is heavy that I could not provide you with better news, but we know the locations of their burial sites and can provide that to you should you wish to visit them once the Vigilant have been quelled and travel is allowed to Rumonin once again. Unfortunately, it looks like yet another of our esteemed and respected families was destroyed by the rabble, and I mourn their loss though I did not know them." Hannabella trailed off here and let the letter fall onto her desk.

Martin, his face paler than the marble statues in the hallway, took my hand. "I apologize, my dear. I shouldn't have brought you the letter and gotten your hopes up without first reading it."

Ferdinand held me close and Hannabella removed her spectacles, her brows drawn together. They all stared at me, their anticipation of my grief evident. But then I laughed, the sound filling the somber room like a thunderstorm indoors, and everyone blinked in shock.

"Martin, there's nothing to be sorry for," I said, tears springing into my eyes despite my smile. "You found my family! Their names, where they were buried... it's all within my grasp now." I clutched his hand tightly. "I couldn't be more grateful or happy. All my life, I thought they'd be forgotten, and that ate away at me. I lost them and couldn't even recall a face or name. Now I have their names, and perhaps someone might know them or have pictures or them, or can tell me what they were like! You gave me my family back, Martin, even if they are no longer with us."

No one seemed to quite know what to do with my lack of tears and wailing. I barely knew what to do with myself, either. My family had been nothing more than misty echoes in my mind for most of my life. I had even, in the confines of Mr. Lennox's apartment and studio, began to doubt if they even existed in the first place. Though it seemed even more ridiculous, I couldn't help but wonder if I had just sprung up from the ground, like a flower, and been picked by Mr. Lennox. The hazy image of a woman being swept away by panicked crowds just felt so distant and foreign, like trying to remember a play you slept through.

Now, knowing their names, they felt real. My mother, father, siblings, had all been real people that had loved me. Leonid. Helyna. Vague memories surfaced, long ago forgotten. A man with dark hair laughing as he called out 'Helyna'. A woman holding me up to kiss my cheeks. I wanted to wrap my arms around the letters of their names, as if they were people, because my heart soared at the thought of knowing who I was, after all these years.

"I'm surprised Lennox didn't lie to you about your name," Ferdinand said.

"I thought he'd just made it up," I said. "But, I think he'd been watching me long before he took me. He probably knew my name and where I lived. He might have even known that my family were either dead, or thought me dead." I clenched my hands into fists. "It would be just like him, to give me the truth but frame it as a lie. What better way to keep me from searching for my real family, if the name I needed to use was presented as a fake?"

"Nadia, are you sure you're all right?" Hannabella asked, coming out from behind her desk and cupping the side of my face with her hand. "This is a lot to take in."

"I think I may feel the sorrow later, but for right now I'm just happy to have any piece of them with me," I replied, placing my hand on hers. "I thought I was entirely alone in the world, but now I'll know where my family is buried, and I can go see them when it is all over."

"Perhaps we should go out to get some tea," Martin said. "It may help soothe your nerves, and I can tell you more about Galina Mosin."

I smiled and nodded my head. "That would be lovely." A nervous energy coursed through my veins, making me feel like I needed to run a thousand miles. I couldn't think of just returning to my sitting room and acting as if nothing had ever happened. Going out could help distract me for a bit.

Hannabella turned to Ferdinand. "Will you come with us? We've missed you, even if it's only been half a day."

"I promised Katya that I'd take her out to this candy store, but I can tell her that something else came up..."

I interrupted him. "No, please don't do that! If she's feeling anything at all like I do, I want her to get some time to spend with the family she thought she'd lost." I placed my hand on his arm. "Go have a nice day with her, and I'll see you later today."

He looked hesitant at first, but once I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, he sighed and shrugged. "Fine, I'll go with Katya. But I want to be sure you're actually okay?"

I nodded, smiling. "Like I said, I think it will hit me later. But for now, I'm fine."

He sighed and looked to Hannabella. "Please watch over her. Send someone to the LeClaire's if you need me. They'll know where the candy store is."

Hannabella laughed. "Of course! Now go, before that little sister of yours grows fangs and two horns!"

Ferdinand stooped down to peck my lips and crush me in a quick embrace. My face burned hot at the thought of the Lephards watching it all, but then Ferdinand was out the office door and heading to the street. I watched his back retreating, wondering if I had made the right choice. But then he was gone, and Martin and Hannabella were chatting calmly around me as they got ready to leave. I made an excuse about wanting to fetch my hat from my room, and slipped away upstairs.

As I entered my empty room, so cold and silent without Ferdinand in it, the weight of the letter smacked me in the gut. While downstairs it had felt like something almost joyous, upstairs, alone and in the gloom, it changed and morphed. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I lowered myself to sit with my back against the wardrobe.

My family had only been memories, yes, but there had always been that small hope, buried deep inside, that they might still be alive out there. Whether we ever met again or not, I had always carried some tiny idea that maybe my family were living normal and happy lives. When Mr. Lennox beat the backs of my legs with his cane during a hard rehearsal, I'd imagine my mother baking pies for my siblings. When I was crying alone because the other corps girls ignored me, I'd think of my sisters and brothers throwing a birthday party.

With the arrival of that letter, all those memories crumbled. The safe haven I'd created of that family disappeared, to be replaced with the stark reality that once my mother lost me in the crowds of the first Uprising, she had not survived for much longer. That last glimpse of her face had been the last I'd ever get. She had not moved on and created a beautiful life. She had died, along with my siblings. And my father?

That was perhaps the most painful of all. He had been alive. He had been in the same city as me for years and years, and I never found him. Had he been to my ballets? Had we passed in the street, neither one of us knowing that the only person we had left in the world was right there? Had I abandoned him when I'd run with Ferdinand? He'd died while I'd lived, yet again, and I could have been there to help him. It burnt worse than any fire. My real father had lived alone while I was being tormented by a fake father.

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms. Where I had felt to so happy only moments before, now I felt like I could barely move. I cried for my lost family, and the happiness my father and I might have experienced if we had only known each other was alive. Regrets and lost opportunities flooded me, filling my chest with dark shadows. I gasped for breath as the tears ran down, wondering if I could ever recover.

A few minutes passed, and the Lephards did not come for me. Perhaps they knew I was crying, or perhaps they hadn't yet noticed. Either way, I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand and swallowed down the last hiccups of crying. I didn't want to stay in this empty room, and I didn't want anyone to pity me.

I pushed myself to my feet and grabbed my hat, placing it on my head and looking in the mirror. My eyes and lips were beet red, and my skin still glistened with tears. I sniffled, trying to set my face to rights, and then turned to head downstairs. Whatever I felt now, I was glad that I had learned what happened to the Surikovs. I might be an orphan for true now, but now there were names and faces to replace Mr. Lennox. And anything I could do to further eliminate that man, I would gladly do a hundred times over.