Hearing my biological mother’s name on her lips is like a dash of cold water in my face. Magda’s body is still in the custody of the Agency of Otherkind Investigations. They hadn’t released her in two years. They’d said an in-depth magical autopsy involved all sorts of complicated things, and it could take months. They had been hoping to find even the smallest clue that would lead them towards her murderer, the Devil Claw Killer having been notoriously hard to catch. Then they’d said there were some unique peculiarities that made it important to keep her longer than usual, but that I need not worry because she was being magically preserved.
“What about her?” I ask stiffly, fully aware that Smithers is listening to every word.
Rosalie is perched on the edge of his desk, tapping her heels on the ground as if I am inconveniencing her, whilst not bothering to hide her interest in my private life.
“Storm had asked me to keep an eye on what was happening with her,” says Remi. “And keep you updated if anything changed.”
Hearing this makes me bite my lip. It actually hurts to know that Storm had been thinking of me but never called.
“How is he?” I can’t help but ask.
“He’s fine. He’d probably have called you himself if he wasn’t in Paris right now.”
My heart lurches. Paris, the city of love. Is Storm there for work or for a holiday? I desperately want to ask, but I would only be embarrassing myself. His personal life is none of my business. His silence made that clear.
“So, erm, you said something had changed with Magda?” I ask, my voice cracking. “Did you have a breakthrough?”
“Unfortunately not. No new leads. Look, I’m sorry to have to tell you this. My contact at the morgue just called me to say that her body had been releas
ed last week.”
“What?” I ask in shock. “What do you mean released? Where is she?”
“You weren’t down as her next of kin,” says Remi apologetically. “The morgue was not aware, and we felt it was best not to tell them in case the information leaked.”
“I don’t care,” I say. “I want her. Where is she?”
I had been scrimping to save enough to pay for her funeral. I need to give her a good funeral. I need to lay her to rest with flowers and a church and everything. She’d been a woman of faith. She would want a decent burial.
The fact that she was released a week ago horrifies me. Did they give her a pauper’s funeral? Is she in some unmarked grave somewhere where I will never be able to visit her? I am shaking as I wait for Remi to confirm this.
“She was released to her employer. To the Palace. To Princess Caroline.” Remi pauses. She knows that I did not like the Princess Caroline, and that the princess practically hated me.
“What does that mean? How can I get her back?” My brain struggles to catch up with this news.
“You can’t. The funeral is today.”
“What?” I almost drop the phone. “Today? It can’t be.”
“Today at three o’ clock,” she confirms.
My heart squeezes painfully. My shift ends at five o’clock. I’ll never make it.
I am barely able to pay attention as Remi gives me the address of the church where the funeral service is being held. I mumble it several times under my breath, memorizing it. I can’t ask Smithers for any notepaper and a pen. He’ll probably make me pay for it.
When I get off the phone I stiffly tell him that I need to finish my shift early.
“No. Where am I supposed to get someone to cover you at this late hour?” he says. “Rosalie is clocking off at two o’ clock as it is. We need all the hands we can get.”
“Please,” I say, hating to beg. “It’s a family emergency.”
“I thought you didn’t have a family,” says Rosalie snidely.
Nasty piece of work, hisses the little voice, sidling into the front of my mind. We should slap her.
“I don’t,” I snap. “Because they’re all dead. It’s a funeral, if you must know.”
“It can’t be a close family member,” she says pertly. “How come you only found out about it just now?”