Thoughts fought for attention in my mind, what should I do? Spy on them, obviously, but how? I could hover outside the window, but with two people in the room, they'd be watching most sides and see me sooner. But... And this was a fairly major detail, would my mother betray my presence?
Instinctively I lowered myself to the room the man, Jason?, had been writing in. I knew my mother would be looking for him, as the rest of the people in the mansion hadn't looked important at all. But... if I knew him from somewhere, so would my mother.
That would explain her being here, a little. Though I certainly have never seen this place before tonight and none of the others looked familiar in the slightest.
So, what was going on?
I moved from window to window, using ledges to move around a little faster as my maneuverability in the air was still much slower without any grip.
He wasn't in any of the rooms on the top floor, even after searching the rooms on the front side. He must have gone down.
I searched the second floor for him and was lucky to find him in one of the rooms on the dark side of the house. It was a lounge type room, with one wall used for books, the others for different paintings. But, despite the rich decoration, the room didn't look out of place and I didn't consider it to be special.
The music room had made a much larger impression on me, anyway.
He stood with his back to the window, on purpose? It was annoying I couldn't see his face. I noticed now that this room had much thicker glass than the others. Probably to keep the sound from outside away, a room for relaxation or a quiet read.
I hoped I would be able to hear their voices.
My mother opened the door a bit hesitantly, she didn't look at home here, had she been here before? Looking around to, taking in the room, I decided this was her first time here. I smiled as her eyes stayed, for a moment, gazing at one of the paintings on the wall. She liked it as well.
He spoke first. "You're here." A statement, meant to provoke the other to speak.
The glass was a true divider, his voice was distorted slightly, muffled, only the lower tones escaped outside. Even his voice sounded vaguely familiar, but with this distortion I couldn't be sure.
She looked at him, anger in her eyes. "Why did you do this to me? I thought you were dead!" Anger and tears.
The room wasn't lit very brightly, perhaps to make it easy on the eyes. The downside of this was that I had to make sure to not show myself against the dark sky. My advantage was the height of the windows. Most people rarely looked up normally, something I had noticed as soon as I started climbing trees as a little girl. It was quite funny to say 'hi!' to passing strangers and have them looking all around, but not up. My attention got back to them again.
He replied calmly. "Unfortunately events have forced me to take this choice."
She scowled. "And the man I knew is gone?"
Who was she talking about? Him? Someone else? If only she would use a name, anything to help me understand.
He shrugged. "Yes, there was no need for him anymore."
She wanted to scream, I saw it in her face, but she gathered herself to stay calm. "You're so cold."
He nodded. "Possibly."
Her face again contorted in pain and relaxed again as she held herself together. "Stay away."
"As you wish."
"No." Her voice sharper than I'd ever heard it. "It's an order, a command you will regret if you ever defy it."
He nodded. "I understand."
Mother left the room as calmly as she could keep herself. It wasn't easy, I could tell. Through the thickened glass I could just hear the man sigh deeply as soon as the door closed. It surprised me slightly, he had been so cold to her as to be mean.
"Not the best ending, regrettably, but at least a definite one."
With those words he turned around to gaze outside, the light for me more than enough to see his face.
My heart stood still. I both understood so much and so little right now. At least my mothers' visit was less of a surprise now. Though it didn't explain the now and the here. Why was he here... Was he Jason?
He must be him...
It couldn't be true, yet it was so undeniable. The words of my mother verified it as did his face, his eyes. Everything in me screamed it couldn't possibly be real, that I was dreaming. But... I knew I wasn't. This was the cold reality I wasn't prepared to face.
He was my father.