Chapter Forty

Raphael watched as Sam left the room in silence. The only noise being her quiet footsteps as she descended the stairs and left the house.

He felt a strange satisfaction at hearing Sam say his name, a peculiar fluttery sensation in the pit of his stomach that made him want to laugh. He felt very giddy.

His fingertips were tingling, craving the cold ivory of the piano. He took a moment to think of what to play, his hands playing before his head had decided. At first, he didn't recall what the song was called or where he had heard it. He had a strange gift for remembering stanzas of chords. He could hear every instrument and could recall what they each sounded like when he listened to orchestras. However, unless it was on a piano, he had no clue how to replicate it.

What's this called…? He mused as he slowed it down, believing it to sound too fast.

When slowed, the playful tune sounded happier, like what one would hear in a child's room, to create a lively atmosphere but wouldn't distract them while they played.

His hand rested heavily on the last note as he chewed the inside of his cheek. Sounds like a music box chime.

Raphael felt back straighten, his right side shooting a line of pain up his side for his surprise movement. He ignored it as he ran out of the room; in his haste, he stumbled, getting to Anita's room and searched every surface, every shelf, tabletop and clearing on the floor. He eventually found the music box with a posing ballerina sitting amongst Anita's toys in the trunk at the end of her bed.

Curious, he twisted the handle and prompted the child-like music he had just been playing in the music room. The remainder of the song made him shudder, but as the woman twirled he brought the box to his chest, he felt the discomfort of the moving plastic against his chest.

Anita gets adopted today. If you hurry, you can still say goodbye.

Raphael felt he had been slapped. "I need to say goodbye…" he almost fell over getting up, but started running, his words turning to yells, "I need to say goodbye!" He barrelled down the stairs, skipping three at a time and leaping the final five as he opened the door and hurried outside, stopping at the gate to return to the house, grab his fedora on the hat stand and close the door behind him.

Raphael sprinted the few blocks to the church. His lungs burning, his side sending waves of pain across his right side, making his hand and leg go numb. But he kept running, maintaining his speed with one thought; I'm coming, Anita.

People parted for the determined boy as he ran down the street, scrunching his hat in his hand as he forced himself to run faster.

I'm coming, Anita.

His eyes teared up, and he gritted his teeth.

Please still be there.

*

Anita stood outside the church, dressed in another white lacy monstrosity of a dress that made her legs itchy. But she was too scared to start scratching as both Sister Wendy, and Olivia Alexandrea stood behind her.

She was watching Mr Vickers, the church gardener, loading the horse-drawn cart that sat just outside of the gates. The suitcases were her own, clothes and gifts from the church to congratulate on her' espousal.' She seemed to have more things than the couple adopting her. Olivia Alexandrea had said her husband would be getting their bags.

When the gardener loaded the last of the bags, he turned to the driver and started chatting. Anita managed the smallest of smiles at the sight of this.

"Are you ready to go, Ann?" Mrs Alexandrea put a gentle hand on Anita's shoulder and kneeled down to her size. Anita turned to her and shrugged. "When Christopher comes down, we'll head off."

Anita felt strange as she said, "Yes, Mother."

Mrs Alexandrea had lectured her multiple times for Anita to call her 'Mother' when the adoption was official. Anita felt awkward calling someone Mother, as she had very little or no memory of ever calling anyone Mother. She had never assumed this stranger would be the first person she said it to.

The man pushed open the door as if called, holding a carpet bag, a suitcase, and a large cream coloured sack slung over his shoulder. Even Mrs Alexandrea seemed surprised by the extra suitcase. "What have you got there?"

"Just extra luggage," he said simply, walking past both girls towards the cart.

Anita narrowed her eyes and gulped, glancing down at the scrapes on her arm from the tree. She looked from her future Father to the church.

Future Father.

The term Father seemed even stranger to her than Mother. She wondered if Raphael would have ever considered being her Father if he ever would have been ready. She had never seen him as a Father figure, more a big brother. Perhaps that was why he didn't adopt her, why he seemed so against adopting her. She looked back to Mr Alexandrea and sighed, wondering how long it would be before she felt comfortable calling that man her Father.

She feared both.

However, she had found evidence of the Unknown Royals in the man's bag, not the woman's. She wondered if Mrs Alexandrea genuinely wanted a daughter or if she was, in fact, connected to the Unknown Royals. Were they even looking for a daughter? Did this have anything to do with Raphael?

She hoped they didn't plan on a ransom situation or a swap. Given the situation, she doubted Raphael would even notice she was gone. He hadn't visited her, meaning he hadn't suspected the people adopting her. She hadn't expected him to hold her hand throughout the entire arrangement but wished he had done something, something to prove he still cared, even the tiniest bit. But the sadder part of her mind was stronger than the logical, as she assumed he wasn't going to help her while he was under his I-can't-protect-you-anymore mentality.

While she passively stood by and watched Christopher Alexandrea pack his wife's carpetbag and his suitcase and sack, she planned her escape plan, her runaway tactic.

If we're going to the train station, I can lose them in the crowd. They wouldn't go back to where they live by carriage, especially if it's outside of Paris.

"Time to go, sweetheart." Mrs Alexandrea held a hand out for her to take.

Anita chuckled nervously as she took it.

If the carriage ever slows down, I could open the door and flee down the road, assuming there wouldn't be anyone to catch me.

She looked back to Sister Wendy, who had already begun waving. Without a gesture, she turned back around and continued shuffling down the driveway.

Perhaps I should wait until I'm out of Paris. Hitch a ride back in with someone, or even leave Paris altogether.

Anita stared at the looming gates as they approached, growing fearful the taller they became. She was amused by the irony that she had spent so long never crossing the line into the church but now so desperately wanted to stay inside its walls.

Maybe I'm overthinking, she finally confessed as they cross onto the pathway. Perhaps Maria was right. Maybe I'm just scared. And that's okay, Ann. You're allowed to be scared.

Anita's sudden panic gripped her ability to move, causing her Mother to pull on her arm. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Anita turned around, still only seeing Sister Wendy by the church doors. "Where's Maria?" she asked.

"Who?"

"My friend. Where is she?" Anita pulled her hand from the woman and went back into the church, but Mother grabbed her shoulders, halting her attempts.

"We don't have time, Ann. You can write to her perhaps. But we need to leave, now."

Anita was pulled towards the carriage, but she pulled away. "No! I need to say goodbye!"

"Anita, don't be difficult," Olivia Alexandrea reached for her again but missed as Anita ran back to the nun.

"Sister Wendy, where's Maria?" she asked.

Nun shrugged, "I haven't seen her since we ran into her this morning," she informed.

Anita was suddenly picked up by Christopher Alexandrea. Anita struggled but stopped when his thumbs dug into her hips. She winced. He plonked her back on the ground, this time in front of the carriage door. "In the carriage, now," he demanded, pointing into the carriage.

Fear. It gripped her chest and restricted her ability to breathe, a lump formed in his throat at the newfound fear of this man. She braced herself on the handle of the door and pulled herself into the cart, casting as intense a glare as she could muster.

The interior of the carriage was as pleasant and polished as the exterior. The outside was a shiny black; the inside was a cushioned red, holding four people facing each other. The Alexandreas followed behind her and sat down immediately; Anita was curious about it and wandered around the small square of space before sitting down next to Olivia Alexandrea.

She looked out the window, Sister Wendy still waving her goodbye, but Maria was still nowhere to be seen.

Anita hadn't expected to be so saddened by her absence.

"We'll be off in a moment," the driver called as he prepared himself.

Christopher Alexandrea sighed as he leant his head on one of his hands. "I'm eager to leave," he said, "Paris is too crowded." He ran his fingers over his eyes.

"There are certainly more people here than I remember," Olivia replied.

Anita stared at Christopher's hand, noticing the thick scratches that had only just stopped bleeding. "What happened to you?" Anita asked, gesturing to her own hand.

He looked at his and forced a shocked look, "Oh dear. I don't quite recall." He hadn't attempted hiding his neutral tone towards the injury.

She had remembered seeing him early in the morning, for a split second, but he was unharmed. She pointed this out, "You didn't have it this morning." Anita felt her eye twitch, the only external response she had as she made a dark assumption. "What did you do to her?"

The carriage jerked forwards from the sudden movement, the wheels creaking as they slowly rolled. Anita watched as both adults reached for their doors and locked the doors with a metal latch. Tears swelled in her eyes at how sickeningly scared she became.

*

Raphael's lungs ached, and he wanted to stop, but he willed himself to keep running the final stretch. He ran past the black metal fences surrounding the church, racing an invisible force to the front gate only around the corner. He started to slow down when he turned onto the street, eventually stumbling to a stop as Anita stepped into the carriage, followed by a man and a woman.

Every muscle tensed as he forced himself to run again, waving and calling out Anita's name.

"Anita! Anita!" He followed the carriage long after it had taken off. His voice carried into the cart as Anita's blonde head peered through the rear window, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him and a sad smile forming on her lips as she pressed her hands to the glass. "Anita!" Raphael was amongst the street, still pursuing them, as he dodged other road vehicles. The carriage was gaining speed, and Raphael's fatigue had begun weighing him down.

Anita seemed to yell something, the woman next to her attempting to calm her down and sit down. Please stop! Raphael pleaded, unable to form his request into words as he slowed down and stopped in the middle of the street, the carriage and Anita becoming smaller and smaller until they disappeared around the corner.

"Anita…" Raphael felt dizzy as he panted, leaning heavily on his knees, "God, I'm gonna be sick." He continued wheezing as he straightened, pressing a hand to his injured side. "I'm not giving up, Ann. I'm not giving up." Mid-pant, he darted to the side and down an alleyway, using some garbage cans as leverage to pull himself up to the fire escape. His gunshot wound wasn't helping him as he dangled by the metal bar. His side sent sharp pain up his arm and caused him to dangle by one arm. "Merde…" He kicked his leg up and managed to roll onto the cold metal, taking a moment to breathe as he started up the stairs to the roof.

He followed the rooftop thieves' pathways, a series of well placed wooden planks, metal railings and conveniently placed thick ropes which acted as a means of balance. Raphael knew the ins and outs of almost every type of thief in Paris, and the rooftop thieves were always the most practical when it came to quick escapes and means around the city.

Raphael leapt over gaps between the buildings, getting to the corner of every second street to find the carriage Anita was in. While there was half a dozen at any time, Raphael found the one he assumed to be Anita. He had to cross a whole street to keep up with it. He jumped down from a ledge and slid down the roof, dropping to the ground and running amongst the road.

Raphael returned to the rooftops quickly, as they would constantly disappear from his eye line. His hat nearly flew from his head several times as he jumped, barely managing to catch it before rolling from momentum and continuing.

He soon watched them go down a long stretch of road. He was exhausted, everything was burning and breathing became an issue, but he was determined as he made a final sprint across the building rooftops. Some were slanted, forcing him to slide and scratch his legs on chipped titles. He pushed off the gutter and latched onto the next building by the fingertips. He shuffled his way to the side with struggled effort and used a window frame to push himself onto the next building.

He continued his chase and managed to outrun the carriage down below. He jumped for the final building on the street but slipped the last second and crashed into the side of the brick wall; stunned, he started to fall, his hands slipping from whatever ledge he caught until he crumbled on the floor of the alleyway. Determined not to lose consciousness, he quickly forced himself to his feet and limped out of the alleyway and onto the street.

The carriage was yet to pass him.

Raphael hadn't much to do with animals, especially horses, but even he knew how to stop them drawing a cart.

He stumbled onto the road and raised his hands, signalling to the approaching horses he wanted them to stop. They obeyed, and the man driving demanded he move. The horses, distressed by his sudden presence, reared up despite their saddles and shook the carriage.

The driver cursed at Raphael in French, insulting his intelligence.

Raphael ignored him and approached the cart; despite the driver's objections, Raphael approached the door and pulled it open. A silver-haired woman and a middle-aged man resided within the cart, shocked by the sudden delay caused by the boy. It wasn't Anita's carriage.

He had lost her.

Raphael felt sick as he apologised and closed the door, the driver begrudgingly continuing down the street after the disruption. People who frequented the streets stared, some taken aback by the noise of distressed horses. Raphael ignored them, going to the side of the road and sitting on the curb to catch his breath. He didn't know where her carriage had gone, but the feeling of losing her, of never seeing her again, made him queasy.

Raphael started trudging back towards the church, a new weight resting heavily on his shoulders.