"𝑁𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑛𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑛𝑜-𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑦. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓: 𝐴 𝑀𝑎𝑛 𝑊ℎ𝑜 𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑂𝑤𝑛 𝐻𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑑."
—𝐷𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑦

𝒩.

"𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎, 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘? 𝐀𝐑𝐄 you ready to go?"

Natalia fixed the long sleeve of the simple black dress she was wearing, and nervously checked the clock to see that they should've left five minutes ago.

"Diego! We're going to be late!"

"Right here, gorgeous."

She turned to the entrance of the bedroom to see Diego, and her smile of relief was quickly wiped away when she noticed he was wearing his gear on top of his usual black sweater and jeans.

"Seriously?" She scoffed as she walked toward him and folded her arms. "We're going to your father's funeral, where you'll be seeing someone of your siblings for the first time in forever, and you're going like that?"

"See, baby, that whole sentence is the reason why I'm wearing this," he answered. His eyes roamed over her dress, which was quite fitting, and he grinned. "I like your dress though."

"Be serious." She sighed as she turned the lights off and walked towards the door.

"I am serious," he answered, playfully smacking her butt as she passed him. "You look sexy."

"I'm not kidding, Diego," she chided as she turned to him. "Seriously. We're nearly thirty. Act your age."

He rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath, though Natalia chose to ignore it as she grabbed a light jacket and shrugged it on.

"What was the emergency at the gym?" she questioned as she grabbed her purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder.

"Well . . ."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at him. "Hm?"

He sucked his cheeks in and shook his head. "You'll get mad."

"Oh, God," she groaned, shutting her eyes as she leaned back against the door. "What did you do?"

"Do you promise not to get mad?"

"Diego."

"Do you promise?"

"Fine, whatever, I promise," she conceded as she put her hands on her hips. "What did you do?"

"I wanted to find out how he died. So" —he dug out a thick wad of papers from his back pocket and brandished it towards her— "I stole the autopsy report from the coroner's office."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Diego?" Natalia exclaimed, seizing the papers and hitting him with them. "Tell me this is a joke. You did not just—"

"You said you wouldn't get mad!" he protested, raising his arms to block her swats.

"I didn't think you were going to say that you did something illegal!"

"Oh, come on. It's not illegal," he tried to reason, though it convinced her no further.

"Oh, yeah? Breaking and entering, on top of theft, is not illegal?"

Diego scrunched his nose. "Well, when you put it that way . . ."

Natalia smacked him once more with the papers before turning away and unfolding them. She let out a sigh as black-and-white photos came into her view, the first one being of the upper half of Reginald's corpse in the morgue.

She shuffled the pictures before examining the file. Heart failure, it claimed. That's what killed him.

Her eyes roamed over the rest of the report; he was found by Pogo, he was the owner of his institution, and most of the rest of it was unknown.

She looked up to Diego, who raised his eyebrows.

"Interesting, huh?" he questioned as she shoved them back to him. "I wouldn't have thought his death would be so . . . normal. I mean, heart failure, it can happen to anyone."

Natalia shook her head. "What did you think it'd be?"

"I don't know, murder?" Diego shrugged as he tucked the papers back into his pocket and grabbed a duffel bag.

She wrinkled her nose. "Do I want to know what's in that?"

"Hm?" Diego glanced down at the bag before pressing his lips into a thin line.

She sighed. "Let's go."

Locking the apartment behind them, the pair headed down to the parking lot and quickly got into the car.

Diego started the engine and backed out of the parking spot before merging onto the road.

Natalia sighed, rubbing her forehead as she leaned back against the seat. "Promise me you'll keep your temper today."

"Promise you?" he questioned incredulously, a scoff escaping his lips afterwards. "You just blew up at me, and you want me to keep my temper?"

"I had a pretty valid reason!" she pointed out with a roll of the eyes. "And I bet you'll dig up the smallest thing just to get a shot at Luther or Vanya!"

"I wouldn't—"

"Promise me."

"Fine," he yielded with a reluctant nod. "I'll keep my temper."

"Good."

"And if I don't?" he asked as they came to a stop sign, his voice suddenly coy. She watched with annoyance as his upper lip curled. "You'll . . . punish me?"

"You also have to promise that you'll keep those disgusting jokes to yourself when we're around the family."

"Disgusting?" he scoffed as he pressed the gas pedal. "You didn't think it was so disgusting when we—"

"Promise me!"

"Fine, fine, whatever, I promise," he sighed. "God, you take the fun out of everything."

"Maybe it's because we're en route for a funeral?"

He scrunched his nose. "Whatever."

Natalia rolled her eyes before turning her gaze to the window. Despite the gloomy mood that was sure to soon overtake them, the weather was quite nice. Though there was a bit of a chill in the air, the sky was a fair shade of blue and the Sun shone strongly through the few clouds.

She twisted her ring as the roads became familiar. She wasn't sure if she was quite ready to go back to their home—she had just left only a few years ago.

Sure, the first few years there hadn't been so bad—if you didn't count all the lecturing, strict rules, and deadly missions that they had gone on. And, yeah, some of her best memories had come from those years.

But then when she thought of the year where not only her best friends left, but also when the love of her life broke up with her and disappeared the next day? The feeling of warmth left and was replaced with nothing.

And though she had had Klaus for the next couple of years, once he had left, the Academy was lonely. It wasn't like she made good talk with Luther, and as much as she loved Grace and Pogo, it just wasn't the same. And with the death of Ben lingering in the air, with every glance to the bedroom across the hall, the memory of the home grew cold.

Diego glanced towards her, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Why you so nervous?"

"Nervous?" she chuckled awkwardly, shaking her head as she turned towards him. "I'm not nervous."

"Yes, you are," he rebutted. "You're all uptight. That means you're nervous."

She scoffed. "You think I'm nervous because I rightfully got mad at you for not only breaking and entering but also stealing?"

"And for preparing myself for the worst with my gear," he added with a slight grin. "Answer the question, princess."

"I don't know," she sighed, resting her hands on her lap and stretching the bottom of her dress. "I just don't really want to go back into that house."

Diego gave a small shrug. "Me too."

"I mean, there are some good memories in there, but . . ."

"Oh, I remember some of those good memories," murmured Diego with a smirk, and he took one hand off the wheel before placing it on her thigh and squeezing it.

Natalia smacked his hand away. "Are you serious?"

He chuckled as he returned his hand to the steering wheel. "Just getting them out before we get there, baby."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the window, feeling a small sense of dread creep up inside of her. She was more than sure that there would be at least one incident to come.

The sight of the towering Academy made her insides numb a little, and, almost immediately, all her memories came flooding back, the good and the bad. She wasn't sure which kind she had more of, but she wasn't eager to find out.

She could tell that Diego was beginning to feel the same grim mood she had as his expression soured and his grip on the wheel tightened.

"You okay?" she murmured as he parked the car.

He only pressed his lips together and shrugged.

Walking into the main foyer gave her a strange sensation—it had been quite a few years since she had been here. All of a sudden, she was twelve years old again, glassy-eyed and scared to death as she walked into the welcoming yet foreign home.

Now reassured by the crackling fire in the next room, Natalia unzipped her jacket and pulled it off. She turned towards the living room, and her eyebrows furrowed as she saw Grace sitting by the fire, her head slightly tilted as she stared off.

"Mom?" Diego called, though Grace made no movement to show that she heard the voice.

Her ears suddenly perked up as she heard the sound of heels clicking from the floor above, and a smile came onto her face.

"Oh, Alli's already here."

"I'm going to the living room," Diego immediately muttered.

"Oh, come on," she sighed. "You're going to have to say hi sooner or later."

"Later," he concluded firmly, grabbing her jacket from her with a kiss on the cheek and disappearing into the living room on the right.

Natalia sighed before heading towards the stairs, and as she rounded to the second set to reach the next floor, she was delighted to see that Allison was just there, leaving the hallway of their bedrooms.

She was wearing a blue blouse that ended at her waist, though the high-waisted black pants helped her fit into the occasion.

"Alli!" she called.

"Hey, Lia," Allison greeted with a small grin as she approached. "You holding up all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Natalia sighed as she embraced her tightly. "How about you?"

"As good as it gets."

Natalia pulled back from the hug, and she folded her arms. She shook her head, glancing around for a moment before murmuring, "I can't believe he's gone."

"I know." Allison gave a small shudder. "I still feel like he's breathing down the back of my neck."

She pressed her lips together. "Hm."

Allison sighed before waving a dismissive hand and shaking her head. "Onto lighter and more important matters—"

"Alli!"

"—let me see that ring!"

Despite the grim situation, Natalia couldn't help but smile as she showed off the ring that decorated her fourth finger.

"Wow." Allison grasped her finger, tilting it so that the diamond sparkled in the light. "It's gorgeous."

Natalia giggled. "Isn't it?"

Suddenly, their attention turned downwards as the sound of Vanya's voice echoed through the foyer.

"Hey, Mom. Mom?"

Allison tugged on Natalia's arm, and the two of them made their descent.

"Vanya?" Allison called out as they reached the bottom step. It seemed as though she was startled at the presence as she remarked, "You're actually here."

"Hi, Vanny," Natalia greeted with a small grin.

"Hey, Allison," Vanya said, and her nervous smile grew more relaxed as she turned to the other woman. "Hi, Lia."

"Hey, sis," Allison murmured as they approached. She let out a soft chuckle before hugging Vanya, and it seemed that that took the smaller woman by surprise as she awkwardly hugged her back.

Natalia smiled as they pulled away, and she took her turn in giving Vanya a tight hug.

"Ah. What is she doing here?"

Natalia turned to see Diego walking out of the living room, a grimace on his face as he glanced at Vanya.

"You don't belong here," he continued as he made his way towards the stairs. "Not after what you did."

Natalia shut her eyes and silently groaned. That promise lasted about three minutes.

"You're seriously gonna do this today?" Allison called with unimpressed brows as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her pants. She leaned over to look at him as he headed up the stairs and continued, "Way to dress for the occasion, by the way."

"At least I'm wearing black."

"Goddammit," Natalia muttered under her breath. She gave the two a smile. "I'm gonna go yell at him. I'll catch up later."

Hurriedly, Natalia followed Diego up the stairs and caught him just before he could enter one of the hallways.

"What the hell was that?" she whispered, punching him in the arm. "You promised!"

"You tellin' me you think she deserves to be here? After shaming the family name?" Diego scoffed, glancing at her before continuing down the hallway. "No."

Natalia grabbed his arm to keep him in place and rolled her eyes as he sighed and turned towards her.

"Listen to me," she muttered, "behave yourself."

"I'm not a kid," he retorted.

"Yeah, but you sure are acting like one!"

He swallowed, staring at her for a moment before raising his hands in surrender. "Whatever."

"Good," she sighed. As he began to walk down the hallway, she quickened her pace to match his. "Where are you going?"

"What, you gonna babysit me now?"

She scoffed. "I feel like I have to."

Diego didn't answer, however, as his pace slowed and an amused grin appeared on his face. He leaned forward, and Natalia followed his gaze to see that he was peering into Reginald's room.

The door was open enough for them to see that Luther was rifling through his possessions, clearly looking for some sign of disturbance. He was wearing a large overcoat and fingerless gloves, no doubt to help conceal the change in appearance, though it didn't help much.

The pair stopped at the doorstep, and they watched as Luther moved the blinds and checked the locks on the windows.

"I can save you some time," Diego called as he leaned against the entrance, causing Luther's head to whip around towards them. "They're all locked. No forced entry, no sign of struggle. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Diego walked into the room, and Natalia didn't like the grin that grew on his face as he leaned to take in Luther's large figure.

"Oh, you got big, Luther," Diego drawled as Natalia crept close behind him. "What's the secret, huh? Protein shakes? Low carbs?"

"What do you want?"

A small smirk came upon Diego's face as he fished the wad of papers out of his pocket and offered it to him. "The autopsy report."

Luther reached out to grab it, and Diego grinned as he lifted the papers out of Luther's reach with a teasing "Ah."

He then offered the disgruntled Luther the papers once more, and they were snatched out of his hands.

"And you have this why?" Luther questioned as he unfolded the papers.

"Well, that's because I . . . ," Diego said as he turned and sat down on the sofa chair in the corner, "broke into the coroner's office. And surprise, surprise, Dad's death was . . . normal. Just a boring, old heart failure."

"Yeah, so?"

Diego shrugged. "So, why are you in here, checking all the windows?"

"Were you the first one on the scene?"

"Pogo found him," Diego answered.

"Yeah, I talked to Pogo," Luther replied as he shook his head. "He said he couldn't find Dad's monocle."

"What's your point?" questioned Natalia.

"Can you think of a single time you saw Dad and he wasn't wearing that monocle?"

Natalia and Diego glanced at each other and remained silent; Luther was right.

"No," Luther said, taking their silence as an answer. "Which means someone took it. Which means there's a chance he wasn't alone when he died."

Diego got up from the chair and kept his voice low as he scoffed, "There is no mystery here. Nothing to avenge. Nothing to solve, nothing like that." He turned to face the disrupted bed as he continued, "It's just a sad old man who kicked it in a big, empty house. Just like he deserved."

"Diego," Natalia whispered, though it was ignored.

"You should leave," Luther muttered, his angered eyes set on Diego's. 

Diego gave a short nod, his lips stretched into a small smile. "Whatever you say, brother."

He crept back, though he kept his gaze facing Luther for a few moments before turning towards the door.

"Nat," he murmured as he reached the entrance. "Come on."

"You go," she called. "I want to talk to Luther."

Diego cast a wary glance to the both of them before sighing and turning back to the door.

Once she knew he was gone, Natalia tilted her head and asked, "How've you been?"

Luther, however, kept his gaze fixated on the door that Diego had just disappeared from. "Did you tell him?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Did you tell Allison?"

"I haven't told anyone, Luther," she reassured him. "I promised I wouldn't, and I keep my promises."

Luther swallowed before moving his eyes towards her. She saw a hint of gratitude on his face, which she most definitely wasn't used to, and he gave a nod. "Thanks."

She gave him a small smile before turning and heading out of the room.

Diego was waiting at the end of the hall, his arms folded as he leaned against the wall. His eyebrows raised as she approached.

"What were you talkin' 'bout with Luther?"

"Nothing," she reassured him as she brushed past him to head towards the stairs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait." Diego grabbed her arm, bringing her to a stop. As she turned to him with a silent groan, he raised his eyebrows. "Don't keep secrets from me. What was it?"

"Nothing, Diego," she insisted. "Just how he's been."

He, however, didn't seem convinced. "A whole lifetime of hating Luther and you suddenly wanna know how he's been?"

"Diego, his—your father just died. They were close; he had stayed here this whole time until he went to the Moon," she reasoned. "I just wanna make sure he's okay."

"No, there's something else, Nat." He stepped closer to her, and his grip on her arm loosened. "Don't lie to me; I can tell."

"I'm not lying to you," she replied firmly.

An amused smile tugged on his lips as he joked, "You cheatin' on me with him?"

"He's been on the Moon for the past four years," she pointed out with a light scoff.

"Did you guys" —he raised his eyebrows suggestively— "you know . . . do it when you two were the only ones left?"

Natalia slapped his arm, eliciting a chuckle. "That's disgusting."

"You didn't say no."

"No, we didn't," she reassured him with a shudder. "In fact, we barely even talked."

Diego tilted his chin up. "Then why do you wanna know how he's doing?"

"I already answered that question, Diego."

"Not fully," he pointed out with a shake of the head. "There's another component, ain't there?"

"No!"

"Tell me, baby," Diego whined softly, moving his grasp to her waist. "What is it?"

"If I could, I would," she sighed. "But I can't, so I won't."

His eyebrows furrowed, and his voice softened as he asked, "That serious?"

"Yes," she answered. "Now, can we drop it?"

"It's nothin' bad?"

"Just don't worry about it," she pleaded. "Okay?"

Diego stared at her for a moment before sighing. "Fine."

Natalia sighed and glanced over her shoulder before heading down the steps. She paused when she realized no one was following, and she turned to see that Diego had disappeared.

She sighed. As long as she wasn't there to witness whatever he was doing, she didn't care.

She continued down the steps, a small grin coming to her face as she remembered all the hide-and-seek and tag they would play, running up and down the stairs. When she forgot about all the bad things that had happened, this place had been pretty fun.

Her fingers trailed along the wooden railing. She remembered how tightly she had gripped the railing when she first came, almost afraid that her knees would give out and that she'd tumble back down the stairs if she didn't hold tight enough.

She sighed. Her first day had been both the best and most terrifying day of her life.

"Is that my favourite person in the whole wide world?"

Natalia looked behind her to see that Klaus was just a set of stairs above her, and her grin widened.

"Klaus, hi," she greeted as the two met at the bottom of the staircase. She embraced him tightly, trying her best to ignore the strong stench of alcohol before pulling back. "How was rehab?"

"Oh, no fun at all." He pouted. "Just got out a couple of days ago."

"Did it" —she shrugged, a look of hope on her face— "help?"

"I relapsed barely an hour later, so if you consider that—"

"Well," she sighed, "at least you went there."

"Against my free will," Klaus muttered. His face brightened as his eyes cast down towards her left hand, and he grinned. "Oh, but that ring on your finger . . ."

"Yeah." Natalia smiled as she raised her hand for him to get a better look. "Diego and I got engaged!"

"Oh my God," he gasped. "When?"

"Oh, a little less than a month ago?" she guessed with squinted eyes. "Just a few days after you got into rehab."

"Ah, rats" —Klaus snapped his fingers— "just missed it."

Natalia giggled before embracing him once more. "I'm happy to see you again, Klaus."

"Oh, I'm happy to see you, too, Nutella," he sighed as he patted her back. "And are you happy enough to give me money?"

Her eyebrows raised as they separated. "Depends on what you'll do with it."

". . . Buy insurance?"

"Doubt it."

"Yeah, ya got me. I wanted to buy . . . a house?"

"Try again."

". . . Clothes?"

"Well, if it's clothes you want . . ." Natalia grinned as she dug through her purse and fished her wallet out. She could see Klaus's excited grin out of the corner of her eye as she opened her wallet, and she picked out a card before handing it to him. "Here's a thirty-dollar gift card to JCPenney."

His face, as expected, dropped as he slowly took it. "Oh . . . thanks."

𝒩.

A little less than an hour later, Natalia found Diego lurking near the bedrooms, and his attention turned to her as the sound of her heels clicking echoed around the hall.

"Hey," he greeted as she approached. "You happen to know why Klaus asked me if it's possible to buy drugs with a JCPenney gift card?"

Natalia shut her eyes, a small giggle escaping her before she shook her head. "Don't worry about it."

He raised his eyebrows but questioned no further as he shrugged. He leaned back against the wall and peered into his bedroom, which looked exactly as it had when Natalia had left.

"Made some pretty good memories in there, huh?"

Natalia gave a small hum as she wrapped her arms around him, pressing into his back as she rested her chin on his shoulder. "Lots."

"Although," Diego suddenly said with a small grin, "I'd say the memories in that coat closet on the first floor were even better."

"Diego," she groaned, though a light laugh accompanied it. "You promised me you wouldn't—"

"I said I wouldn't around the family! They aren't here!"

"Well . . . speaking of," she sighed, placing a kiss on his neck, "Luther's calling a family gathering in the living room, five minutes."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Something about Reginald, I assume."

He scoffed in amusement, turning towards her and raising his eyebrows. "Great hypothesis, Dr. Hargreeves."

"Hey, not yet. You keep making fun of me, though, and I'll stay Dr. Kim forever," she giggled before intertwining their fingers and pulling him towards the stairs. "Let's go."

All of the siblings were already in the living room by the time they entered, and the fireplace was crackling heartily in the back of the room.

Luther and Vanya were sitting on opposite couches while Allison was sitting on the arm of one of the chairs beside the fireplace.

The clinking of glass made Natalia look over to see that Klaus was at the bar, unsurprisingly making himself a drink.

She released Diego's hand before heading over to the couch Vanya was on and sitting next to her. They exchanged a short smile while Diego headed to the open chair next to the fireplace.

Natalia's lips pressed together tightly as she clasped her hands. It was awfully awkward, and it seemed as though everyone could sense that the friendship that the group had once shared was now long gone.

Natalia's gaze found Diego, who was staring into the fire, before quickly latching onto Allison as she took a sip of the rum that swished in her crystal glass.

As they heard the sound of Klaus pouring alcohol into a glass, Luther stood up and awkwardly began, "I guess we should get this started. So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at Dad's favourite spot."

"Dad had a favourite spot?" questioned Allison with furrowed eyebrows.

"You know, under the oak tree," Luther reminded as he looked towards her, though she only returned with a baffled expression. "We used to sit out there all the time." His eyebrows furrowed as he registered their confused looks. "None of you ever did that?"

"Will there be refreshments?" interrupted Klaus as he stepped through, a glass in one hand and a smoking cigarette and a small trophy (Natalia assumed he would pawn the latter) in the other. "Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner."

"What? No. And put that out," chided Luther as Klaus stuck the cigarette between his teeth. "You know Dad didn't allow smoking in here.

"Is that my skirt?" suddenly asked Allison, drawing their attention to the knee-length black skirt that Klaus was wearing.

"What?" Klaus questioned, turning towards them after placing the trophy on a side table. "Oh, yeah, this! I found it in your room. It's a little dated, I know," he sighed as he stepped towards them, letting the skirt flow around him as he took his cigarette out and waved his hand, "but it's very breathey on the bits."

"Listen up," Luther interjected. "Still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?"

Diego turned to him, his chin tilted upwards as he asked, "Like what?"

"Like the way he died."

A humourless smile reached Diego's lips as he nodded his head down. "And here we go."

"I don't understand," said Vanya as Klaus took a seat next to Natalia. "I thought they said it was a heart attack."

"Yeah, according to the coroner," Luther confirmed.

"Well, wouldn't they know?"

"Theoretically," he agreed.

"Theoretically?" Natalia repeated with tightly knit eyebrows.

"I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened," he protested calmly. "The last time that I talked to Dad, he sounded strange."

"Oh," Klaus exclaimed, gurgling his rum as he leaned back, "quelle surprise!"

Ignoring this, Natalia pushed, "Strange how?"

"He sounded on edge," Luther answered. "Told me I should be careful who to trust."

"Luther," Diego said quietly as he got up from his chair and stepped towards him, "he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles."

"No." Luther tilted his head in Diego's direction. "He must have known something was going to happen." As Diego gave him an amused smile, Luther turned to Klaus. "Look, I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad."

Klaus began to splutter as he straightened up, "I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, 'Dad, could you just . . . stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?'"

"Since when?" Luther questioned incredulously. "That's your thing."

"I'm not in the right . . ." Klaus looked around, clearly searching for the right words before settling on: "frame of mind!"

Natalia scoffed as she leaned back in her seat; she wasn't surprised in the least.

"You're high?" Allison questioned.

"Yeah!" Klaus laughed. "Yeah! I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?"

"Well, sober up, this is important," Luther demanded. "Then there's the issue of the missing monocle."

"Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?" Diego muttered as he tilted his head down.

"Exactly. It's worthless," Luther pointed out as he turned to him. "So whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge."

Klaus shook his head. "Where are you going with this?"

Diego's lips curved into an amused smile as he peered at Luther. "Oh, isn't it obvious, Klaus?" he drawled before his lips fell into a grim line. "He thinks one of us killed Dad."

"You do?" Klaus breathed out in shock as he looked towards Luther, whose apprehensive expression gave him away.

Natalia was just as shocked as she questioned, "How could you think that?"

"Great job, Luther," Diego scoffed, shaking his head before heading towards the exit. "Way to lead."

Luther shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying."

"You're crazy, man," Klaus breathed out as he got up and pointed the butt of his cigarette towards him. "You're crazy. Crazy."

"I've not finished," Luther told them as everyone began to get up, though no one listened as they started to head in Diego's footsteps out the door.

"Sorry, I'm just gonna go murder Mom," Klaus quipped as he stumbled away. "Be right back."

"That's not what I was saying."

Natalia rolled her eyes as she left. The family meeting went just about as well as she had thought it would.

She needed to think. Somewhere where she'd get peace and quiet for once. Her room.

As she headed for the stairs, she spotted Diego at the bottom of the steps, leaning against the railing. He was looking down at the tiled floor, but he looked up at her as she approached.

"Can you believe him?" he scoffed. "I guess—"

"Diego, I kinda just . . ." Natalia sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I think I need some time by myself right now, honey."

His expression softened, and he tentatively placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because of what happened in there," he answered as he jerked his thumb towards the living room.

"No, I'm not," she reassured him with a shake of the head. "Given Luther's thoughts, I think you were right."

His eyes widened comically. "Wow, are you saying that I was . . . right?"

She shrugged. "I just did."

"I'm flattered."

"Diego," she sighed, "can I—"

"Yeah, go, go." He nodded, gesturing towards the stairs. He kissed her cheek. "I'll be here if you need me, princess."

Natalia gave him a small smile before heading up the stairs, and as her hand trailed along the railing, she found herself quickly consumed by her thoughts.

Sure, she knew that Luther was going to overreact about this, especially since Reginald's death was played off as a natural one. Yes, she wasn't surprised that he strongly believed it to be murder. But, holy shit, she did not expect him to think the murderer was one of them.

Had he no compassion? she pondered as she reached the landing of the second floor and continued towards the hall. No love for those who he called his siblings? No empathy?

Did he really think Allison could have done it, what with her living in an entirely different city and wrapped up by fame?

Or Klaus, who, even if he hadn't been stuck in rehab at the time, would most definitely not have the capability nor the skill set to murder his father and get away with it?

Or Vanya, a timid, shy, small woman, who, although did write that shaming book, could barely hurt a fly—did he think she had done it?

Diego, admittedly, was definitely suspect number one on Luther's list, and Natalia was honestly surprised that Luther hadn't pointed the finger at him during the meeting. But Natalia knew for a fact that it hadn't been Diego because—other than her simply just knowing Diego inside and out—he had had a boxing match the night Reginald had died.

And her? Well, she knew that she hadn't done it. But apparently, Luther may think so.

She suddenly found herself stopped in front of her old bedroom, and a small smile came upon her face as she lightly pushed the door open.

The room was exactly as she had left it all those years ago—a few books on her desk, the bed made—though the only difference was that her curtains were drawn. She was certain that Grace had kept all the bedrooms clean, judging by the fact that there was barely a speck of dust on her desk and bookshelf.

She sat down on her bed, momentarily forgetting about the current dilemma as she let her fingers roam over the soft blanket that was sewn with memories. All the times she and Diego would stay up until the sun rose, kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other; the nail polish that she, Allison, and Klaus would spill on it while giggling; the tears that had soaked it whenever Reginald had scolded her . . . Some memories weren't great, but the good ones made up for it.

Her gaze flitted from wall to wall. The room felt a lot smaller than it had been before. Her head turned towards her door as she heard a couple of other doors shut, though she shrugged it off; some of the others must've had the same idea and gone to their rooms.

Her eyes drifted over to the textbooks that were piled up on her desk. Everyone used to study together. Play together. Talk together.

And now look at them: they couldn't be farther apart.

Luther had always been a bit distant from most of them (except Allison, of course). He had always been the strict one who'd take the fun out of everything—he was Number One, after all. And he'd never let them forget that.

Natalia found her grip tightening on the blanket, and she quickly released it before patting it down to smoothen the wrinkles she had created.

Did Natalia really believe that Reginald had died of natural causes? Well, probably. The facts were in the autopsy report, after all.

Did he have enemies? Yes. Were they willing to kill him? Some of them, probably. But how likely was it that they wouldn't take the chance to make it bloody? If it was revenge, why make it look like a heart attack?

Natalia didn't think it was revenge, nor did she really agree with Luther's idea of murder—especially with his suspect list.

She sighed as she got up from her bed, twisting her ring. She glanced at the clock to see that nearly twenty minutes had passed, and she decided that maybe now was the time for some company.