Harold just remained silent.


    "I''ll step out for a moment," Lorelei said, putting down her violin and heading for the door.


    As she passed Harold, he shifted slightly to the side to let her by. Lorelei''s


    expression flickered for a second before she regained herposure, closing the door behind her without a word.


    The room fell silent again.


    "What did you want to ask, Harold?" Noemi poured him a cup of coffee, her face beaming with a gentle smile.


    Harold took the cup and took a sip. "I recently met a doctor with superior medical skills. She might be able to help me recover my memories."


    At his words, Noemi''s hand trembled violently, and a sh of panic crossed her face.


    "So, I need my personal records from before I was thirteen," Harold said, setting down his cup and looking intently at his mother, who was trying to feignposure.


    "Records?" Noemi''s eyes darted around, her smile strained. "Didn''t I tell you, darling? When we moved, a lot of things went missing."


    "Is that so?" Harold gave a faint, bitter smile. How could personal records just disappear during a move? And why had all the photos of him before the age of thirteen been wiped from the family archives?


    "It''s true," Noemi insisted, trying to maintain her calm. She quickly changed the subject, fearing she would slip up. "By the way, aren''t you preparing for the medical association''s membership election? If you be a member, your father will be so happy."


    Happy? The word stung Harold. Growing up, his father had treated him like a tool to be molded. If he won a medical award, his father was pleased. If he made a mistake, he was met with a cold shoulder.


    By now, he was almost certain his mother knew the truth. Perhaps his life before thirteen belonged to someone else. Perhaps he had only joined the Houston family when he


    as thirteen. If he was adopted, then where was his parents'' real son? If not... then what was his connection to the Houston family?


    "I have things to attend to in Borealia. I''m just going to grab something from my room, and then I''ll be leaving." Harold had wanted press for answers, but with the election so close... Well, he had waited over a decade; a few more days wouldn''t make a difference.


    "Harold..." Noemi stood up abruptly, her heart pounding with fear. "No matter what happens, you must know that I truly love you."


    Perhaps she had sensed something. Harold was too smart. There was no wall that didn''t have a crack; some secrets were bound toe out eventually.


    "You should get some rest," Harold said, turning back with a slight smile. "We can talk about certain thingster."


    At the very least, he needed to find out what was really going on. If he wasn''t a Houston, did he have his own family and friends?


    As the thought crossed his mind, Juniper''s face surfaced once more. Was she his family? or friends Since he had his suspicions, he might as well use the process of elimination. A DNA test would settle it.  swhovels


    After packing his things, Harold paused and sent a message to his assistant: [I need


    you to do something for me.]


    The assistant: [Plucking another hair? Whose?]


    Harold: [My grandmaster''s!]


    The assistant: [Whose? That little terror? I get nervous just being near her. This is like trying to pull a tooth from a tiger! Wait, you don''t suspect...?]


    Harold: [Also, get me Jimmie Tate''s file.]