"Vespie! No! Why did you do that?" Papa looked at Mamà wide eyed. "You're sure?"

Mamà nodded, her pretty black curly hair bouncing around her face. Papa held me close, his body shaking as he sat me down on a counter. He touched my face and smoothed my hair down, worried eyes darting over me before a sadness settled on him. Water ran from his closed eyes.

"I ok, Papa, see? No cwy, Papa."

But Papa didn't look at me. "You know what happens now, don't you?" he said to Mamà.

Again she only nodded, as he crushed her into a hug with me, kissing her. Why were they crying? What happened now?

Mamà and I moved away. And I learned not to bring attention to myself, staying under the radar my parents were always checking. To protect me he'd always said. 

My alarm clock blaring shook me from the memories of my four year old self's world imploding for some stupid attention grabbing thing I'd done. I'd sat awake all night on a motel bed since Fox dropped me off and told me he'd be outside in his car. All night in the brightly lit room, I suffocated under a fear of shadows and the weight of everything I'd learned the day before. Dad had hidden things from me. This would be something to cry to Mamà about, but she was who knows where.

I let the alarm scream electronic obscenities at me for five solid minutes before I realised the world would go on even though I was sinking. Numbly, I took the purple box, identical to the ones my ring and bracelets had come in from my purse.

We lived with distance and seeing each other sparingly, but Dad never let me feel his absence. He was there. Every night he read me bedtime stories over the phone, watched movies with me on facetime, discussed life goals, supported me through sports, crappy friendships and everything a normal dad would do. I'd always felt his love.

Love that I'd left trapped in a box all night. Inside it, layers of thin delicate chains that matched the bracelets I wore, all looped together to form a twisty shiny drapey necklace. Dad, I wish I could talk to you.

The necklace stuck in the box as I lifted it out and only came free after a tug. Under it was a note I read after slipping it on.

My Vesper.

I love you, Minnow.

You'll hear some things, and I know you'll have questions. I'll try to answer them some day. For now, I hope your mother is able to explain how and why and what is coming—to tell you her part in this story.

I never took the stone as they claim, all I've ever done is protect it, as was my duty. Like I've protected you all your life. Which is why, no matter what, I need you to stay far away from all of this.

I'm sorry, Minnow, but know that everything we did was for loving you.

Papa

Mamà? I couldn't imagine what she had to do with anything. Except, you know, not telling me that Dad was the High Grand Water Sorcerer.

Who, according to Fox, was going to have his powers taken.

Yanking open my door, I knocked on the hood of Fox's car parked right in front of it. He slid out and my eyes betrayed me by traveling over his torso as he stretched. "I said stay inside where it's safe, Little Witch."

"I was thinking, I need to prove Dad didn't do this."

His eyes darted between mine, and he sighed, shaking his head as he gestured me back into the room. "Not happening. My job is to keep you safe."

"But," I protested as he firmly pressed me into a stool in the kitchen. "I could—"

"No!" His sharpness softened with a small smile, as he tried to joke, "You trying to get me fired, Minou?" 

I wondered at the possibly French endearment he seemed use when he was in a good mood. My hopes it was a good sign were dashed with a knock. Fox peered out the window, uttered a curse and glared at me. "What the hell's she doing here?"

I refrained from telling him the obvious; I'd called her. Chewing my lip, I buried my argument beneath excitement at Chloe being there. Still, I tried to work out how to convince him.

"So," Chloe poked me when Fox went into the bathroom, giving us ten feet of privacy. "He's a hottie."

A giggle burst from me before I could stop it. Did it really matter if he heard us? I'd already told him I thought he was cute when I'd asked him out. Still, I grabbed my phone and tapped out a text. At least I have something to look at. Out loud, we carried a different conversation, a habit formed from childhood due to Mamà's constant presence. "I need to skip out on work for a while." 

"I figured. They probably wouldn't get the bodyguard thing." She answered, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she returned my text. Look at? I was thinking more along the lines of something to do.

"Not possible," I answered aloud. He's my security.

She frowned at my answer and Fox who'd returned. "Ugh, I know, I know," she sniped at him as she stood. "Time for me to leave. I'm going anyway."

Slapping her shades on, she muttered controlling meathead under her breath and left. Fox's jaw twitched at the words, as they did the night before and he slammed the door shut after her, breathing so deeply, I knew they'd bothered him. A sore point that I felt the need to soothe.

"Don't feel special that she hates you; she hates all my security. Except the last guy."

"Do tell." Fox drawled sarcastically, crossing his arms.

He and the last guy were light and dark in comparison, their only similarities being build, height and eye colour. And maybe the way their hair swept back in loose waves.

"Pavie was nice." I cringed after saying it, realizing I was telling Fox he wasn't. Words meant to backpedal were already in my mouth, but Fox repeated the unusual name to me. While it usually brought questions, a look at Fox told me he knew Pavie.

"Figures, you know each other. You probably work for the same company. Pavie was a sweetheart, a little sad though. Dad fired him."

"Of course he did." Annoyance laced his tone, for Dad or Pavie, I wasn't sure. "Why?"

Because: we'd been friends, Dad thought he was too unstable, Pavie had tried to tell me to stand up for me. "Because we got too close for Dad's liking."

Fox coughed, "You slept with my brother?"

"I..." could not form words. Did it sound like that's what I meant? "I di—"

Sweet Churro! Did he just mutter what I think he did? You sure have a type, huh?

Red heat rushed to my face. "I didn't say that! We were friends. Really close friends. And even if I did say that, what's the big deal? We're grown ass adults! Also, did you have to sound so surprised? What, am I not cute enough?"

I regretted my words, as he slowly looked me over, eyes pausing momentarily on the wideness I was most self-conscious about. He swallowed thickly and looked away, as uncomfortable as I felt.

His answer, whatever it might have been, didn't come because, I laughed, hoping to ease the tension. "Not sure why that was where you went with it, but ok! I thought you guys had rules about what you are and aren't allowed to talk about with clients."

Once again, I felt like I'd said the wrong thing. Like I'd punched him in the gut, his lips pursed in a strained smile and he nodded. Clearing his throat, he dipped his head and opened the door. "Necessary communication only.  Get your stuff, Little Witch, we're leaving."

A/N: I love throwing bits of other languages in here and there, mostly in sayings, endearments and curses. So far this book has Japanese and French. 

Minou- French slang for kitten, pronounced mee-noo, not to be confused with Minnow (the little fish) which is what Vesper's dad calls her. I didn't mean to make the nicknames so similar, but then Fox would have been calling her "ma grande" which literally translates to "my big girl" and Vesper would not have liked that, even if he didn't mean it that way. It's also not as cute, so there's that. 

Do you have any favourite words, sayings or endearments in other languages? Mine is yelling anything in French (big surprise there) and ti spacco la faccia in Italian. It's so much fun to say and also supremely satisfying.