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His eyes lingered on the signature, Whosaskinus ‘Sasha’ LOLOMG; Oscar couldn’t tell if it was her hand, she’d never written any of the London and Other London Outstanding Mercenary Group’s reports, that had been Hamid, who’s hand was impeccably legible. Even if Oscar had known her writing well, after a lifetime writing in a different language, it might have become unrecognizable to him anyway. But her voice wasn’t, he was sure of that despite all the caution betrayal had carved into him over the last 12 months. Her words rang in his head like she spoke them, even after a year apart, even though he’d known her only at a distance and for mere weeks.
Tears started to spill down his cheeks as he returned to the top of the page. His vision blurred completely when he reached his own name again. He took a moment to wipe away the tears and continued. Curie’s explanation for the letter’s existence was thorough but for this he’d have to make his own inquiries. He swallowed and set it down. He’d verify it first, then show Zolf at the right time.
Oscar turned to other work. The delivery was slim, holding only a few reports; Cairo had fallen but they’d expected that for months. If blue veins entered a place it was only a matter of time before it fell to them. A slip of frail paper barely the size of a postcard said “No sign, E.” The other notes required ciphering, or merely translation and he set them aside. He didn’t want to start on them. He felt lost, hallowed out.
He picked up Sasha’s letter and read it again. And read it again, and read it again. She’d lived, she’d loved people, she’d loved them… loved him, even though he’d been an arse nearly the entire time.
“Wilde!”
Oscar startled and clutched the letter to his chest, looking up to see Zolf standing at the door frowning at him. He shouldn’t but… he held the letter again so that he could look at it, saw his name, saw Zolf’s just before.
“I haven’t verified this… but… I think it’s real. Curie thinks it’s real and the providence is… sound.” He waved a hand vaguely over the words, and then held it out.
Zolf stepped slowly into the room still frowning. “Rare to see you so…” He took the letter from Oscar and turned it to read. Oscar watched as Zolf’s eyes flicked across the page several times, and then Zolf fell to his knees, tears falling freely down his cheeks. He raised an arm to swipe a sleeve across his face and Oscar decided to avert his gaze.
“You’re sure of this?”
“No…” Oscar didn’t know how to explain, he’d stopped trusting his gut the moment his closest friend cut open his face, “but, it sounds like her, and frankly it’s so absurd a concept that… well, time travel to the fall of Rome? …seems an unlikely thing to hang a con on.”
Zolf seemed to read it again and Oscar let him, he’d read it enough times to have it memorized anyway.
“She lived at least, seemed happy. Loved you more than I woulda expected.” The last was spoken ruefully.
“Did you love her?” Oscar wished he could pull back those words.
Zolf didn’t speak for a bit, “yeah, guess so, funny how that goes sometimes, up till then not sure I really cared for anyone, not like that. I’d have given my life for hers crossing the channel, couple other times too.”
“Seems like she inspired that sort of thing.”
Silence reigned. Zolf’s eyes drifted across the letter again.
“I never should have left.”
“Maybe not, but if you’d stayed you might not be here and…” Oscar weighed his words, “I need you here.”
Zolf nodded and put the letter back on the table and left.