An extended arm blocks our path. An older lady in a white uniform holds us at the front of the line, awaiting orders to allow us to pass. There’s a kid who looks no older than myself standing beside her, dressed in the same uniform. He looks lost, but idles patiently, nonetheless.

I keep a hand in my pocket. It works away at the newspaper that sits within, ripping into several thin strips.

Claire ganders about the corridor. Above windowless walls, a peaked glass roof lets in the evening light. From below, the howling of arriving trains moves closer, and to a stop. But of all those that have come, there hasn’t been the sound of a single departure. The walkway is already narrow, but right down the center, a makeshift partition runs through, separating our line from the frantically scurrying railway workers.

There’s a restless buzz bouncing about the passage. Those in line behind us are whispering amongst themselves. They all share the same common confusion. On the other side of the divide, a different uncertainty lingers.

Claire leans over, speaking over the murmurs and scuttling footsteps.

“What’s going on?” She asks.

A grain of rolled paper falls from my pocket.

“You’re only wondering that now?” I ask in return.

“Well, I don’t really know what’s considered normal, so, wait, are you making fun of me?”

I roll the final scrap and let it fall to the ground.

“If I was making fun of you, I’d make it more obvious.”

A shout from down the hall takes Claire’s attention off of me. The lady ahead nods as she receives her signal, then she turns to us.

“You two are together?” She asks.

“Yes.” Claire replies, before I get the chance.

“I’m going to have you two follow Arthur, he’ll show you where to go.” She says, gesturing to her helper.

We’re taken down the corridor to an open lobby, separated into several improvised booths, each with its own number. An interviewer sits across many more just like us at the tables. For the most part, they’re wearing that same white uniform, but a few of them are in plain clothes. Our guide keeps us at another partition. There’s a distinct difference in the restriction of mobility beyond it.

“I’m going to need to ask you two to leave your bags with me, you’ll get them back after we do a quick search.”

Claire looks at me for some sort of validation. I hand my bag to the kid, and she does the same. He accepts them with a smile.

“I’m also going to need you to leave anything you have in your pockets.”

My fist clenches. I reach for the two envelopes. There’s a brief moment when my senses pause and I’m left with just my thoughts.

Suddenly, Claire takes the boys attention, as she flips her pockets inside out. Quickly, I fold the letters over themselves, and jam it up my sleeve. As his eyes turn to me, my hands leave my coat, pulling out the insides as well.

“Thank you,” He says. “You can head down to number 47 now, it shouldn’t take long.”

The partition is broken as we’re allowed to pass. As soon as we’re through, I place my hand back in my coat, leaving that envelopes back where they were.

We walk by the others being interviewed. A man vibrates his heel repeatedly. Another keeps pulling down on his shirt. Claire shuffles ahead beside me, like she’s incomplete without her things in sight. I provide her with some reassurance.

“Just let me do most of the talking.”

The numbers on the tables grow larger, and number 47 comes into view.

Awaiting us is a man wearing a black buttoned jacket. He invites us to have a seat, before flipping to a clean document and uncapping his pen. I ask an urgent question before he has a chance to speak.

“If I may ask, has something happened here, I’m just a little bit worried.”

The man looks at me skeptically, ignoring my question.

“Could I get your names please?” He asks.

Claire blurts out her name almost immediately.

“Claire Lang.” She says. “Claire is spelt with an ‘e’ at the end.”

I give a few seconds for the man to quickly scribble on his paper, but he looks up at me, unimpressed by my slack.

“Klaus. Lang, as well."

He writes as he continues the interview.

“You're siblings?" He asks.

Claire glances to me.

"No, I've just been staying with them for a while." I tell him.

His eyebrow flinches and he takes a quick note, but doesn't question it any further.

“What are you two here for?”

“We’re looking for my father. He went missing about a year ago.”

Claire is given the same look as I was.

“How old are the two of you?”

“Fifteen.” Claire responds once again, instinctively.

“I’m the same.” I add.

The man rolls his pen about the papers for an uncomfortable amount of time. Claire looks like she’s about to explode in her seat. Finally, the man taps the back of his pen on the table.

“Fifteen is a little bit old to be staying with your parents, don’t you think? You two from the country or something?”

Claire nods, and from the opposite side of the table, there’s an inaudible sigh.

“That’ll be all from me for today.” The man says.

He points his pen down the aisle.

“Just head down that way, the guys there will have your things.”

We stand and push in our chairs, looking towards the exit. But our interviewer leaves us with a final piece of advice.

“I hope you find your father okay.” He says.

----------------------------------

It’s a night between seasons; a setting orange sky and light drizzle. Walking through the near vacant streets, the pebbled ground beneath us begins to slope downwards, as we approach the riverside.

Claire runs ahead, passing by the last closed shops, and towards the railing overlooking the water. She leans over the edge. Her silhouette casts a lost figure over the evening reflection. Looking out at this small island town, she seems right where she belongs. But this place won’t welcome us so easily.

I make to her side, and see where the city lights stop. She speaks in a voice captivated by the fallen sight.

“So that’s it.”

A ways upstream, two arms once connected dip into the river. A road now broken splits the divided city in two. The flailing beams bob in the water, from the distance appearing no longer than the suns flickering image.

The low tide brushes up against the wall. A riverside breeze and the dipping light drown the need for either of us to speak, even if only for just a moment.

“How did you know it would be here?” Claire asks

“Lucky guess.”

She brushes my answer off, not asking any further.

“Do you think they’ll catch him?”

I take my eyes off the wreckage and look into the depths.

“Maybe.”

There’s so much more I could say. But I don’t. A part of me wants it all to stop and wants to believe it will. But I know it won’t. I want to see it for what it is. But everything, everyone, has a reason.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

I reply a truthful reply, but I can’t tell how much of it is lies.

“To be honest, I would have preferred it if you never found out.”

My stare is still towards the water. I can’t look her in the eye.

“It’s dangerous just to know his name.”

As the sun sets further, the flowing mirror looks back at me. I thought I had changed, but I’m just the same as I used to be. There’s no one left I can lean on now, though. What would she do if she were in my shoes?

“Didn’t I tell you, you don’t have to worry-”

My hands grasp Claire by the shoulders.

“No, don’t tell me I’m worrying too much, that is what he’s capable of. What if you were on that bridge, then what? Then forget about finding your father, what would I tell him if I did? What do you think he would do if he found out his daughter died out looking for him? Do you have any idea how important you are to him? And your mother too, you’re their legacy. You can’t have so much disregard for your own safety.”

A tear escapes Claire’s eye.

She stumbles to her knees.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

Claire pulls back her tears in a single sob.

“No, you’re right.”

I step back and lean back over the railing. The half-lit light on the shallow waves fades as the evening sun dips into the night, and the blurred lamps grow more prominent.

“I’m not going to stop you from coming with me, but you have to be absolutely certain.”

The heel of Claire’s shoe taps the stone as she stands behind me.

“You’re, still going?”

“I have a feeling I’ll find him along the way.”

“Why are you doing all of this?”

I turn to face her.

“Because I have to.”

Claire wipes her arm across her face.

“I won’t let you go alone.” She says. I can’t help but smirk.

“Figured you’d say that.”

I look directly into her eyes, and she looks back in mine. There’s a naïve resolve within, but it’s in no way hidden. But perhaps that goes for both of us.

“We should get heading back. There’ll be trouble if we’re caught out after curfew.”