[Authors Note: A little addition to chapter 50]

See Yourself Be Yourself

[50.1] Little Matters

“She’s my daughter. I feel it.” Cerberus gripped the tree trunk so fiercely that he should’ve scored the bark.

“A wild assumption,” Ruth said, firm but restrained. “She, Miss Valerie H Weber, appears to share many traits with your kind. Likely a crossbreed. One of the early efforts.”

Cerberus let his arms go slack at his sides, then turned.

"My daughter... would've... been a crossbreed."

Ruth lifted both hands, palms out. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just the old language.”

Silence drew between them longer than either expected.

"...You should be glad I'm still only a sliver of me right now."

“I meant no offense.” Ruth kept her voice level. “What does it matter if this girl is directly related to you?”

Cerberus tipped his head, slowly. “It matters. In several ways.” He paused. “But the fact you didn’t start with the obvious question tells me more than you’ve ever admitted.”

Ruth cleared her throat. "I don't know what you're going on about."

"How...how could she be my daughter when this is how it is?" Cerberus gently raised his hands, like a conductor cueing a silent orchestra.

"When you're around places and people like the company, you learn not to fixate on little matters like time. You know that just as well."

Cerberus straightened. “I know. I know so many things I wish I never had to.” His gaze went distant. “And there’s so much I still don’t. Like the moment my daughter took her first breath. Her first laugh. Her first tears. Her first hug. Her first meal. Her first book. Her first game. Her first drawing. Her first song."

“I know I’ve lost those moments.” His voice didn’t crack, but it wanted to. “But I have hope. Hope that my wife and daughter still exist. In some form. Somehow.”

Ruth folded her arms. “I will never forsake hope.” Her mouth tightened. “But my aunt and my niece? That’s too much.”

"So says the old woman who can twist reality to her needs."

“Bend,” Ruth corrected. “Lightly. With the softest touch. That’s all I can do. I swear.”

“Can,” Cerberus said, “or want to?”

Ruth exhaled through her nose. “This is pointless.” She glanced away. “Fine, then. Perhaps she’s your daughter. My niece. Now what? What do we do about it?"

Cerberus gazed skyward for a long moment, then answered, quiet and absolute. “Everything we can.”