51 Chapter Fifty One

Raphael stayed by Anita's side for the two days she was there, while Maria stayed by for one.

Anita hadn't spoken since she woke up, at least not normally. She spoke in whispers or mutters. The nurses had assured Raphael that it wasn't uncommon for children to seem distant after a traumatic experience. Hopefully, they expect improvement in the coming days.

"Now, can you please answer a couple of questions for us?"

"Of course."

She held a clipboard and went through some paperwork Raphael hadn't gotten around to the previous day. She asked about their address, Raphael's parents, and his family name. She paused when he said his surname was Dane. "It says here that Anita's last name is Alexandria," she informed, "Is this some distant relative surname?"

Raphael shook his head, Anita giving a flash of worry to the name change. "No. There was a mix-up with recent adoption papers," Raphael assured, "We're under the process of getting it fixed currently."

The nurse smiled and nodded, "Very well. And what is your kinship to Anita then?"

"I'm her older brother," Raphael replied.

He gave Anita's hand a gentle squeeze when he saw out of the corner of her eye, she was staring.

After some other minor document fixes, Raphael was able to take Anita home. The walk down the streets was quiet. A serene type of silence both hadn't experience in a while. Connected at the hands, they walked down the next street to their house, Raphael pulling out his key to get inside. Anita noticed them before Raphael, stopping in her track and causing his arm to jerk backwards from holding her hand. "Ann? Is something the matter?" She appeared pale and used a trembled hand to point down the street.

Standing on the brick fencing of their house were three thug-like gentlemen as if they were waiting for someone. Raphael smirked at the sight of them and kneeled down to Anita.

"This is going to be scary," he admitted, "But this is all according to plan." He straightened out the ribbon on her dress and stood straight, taking in a deep breath to compose himself before re-taking her hand and walking down the street casually.

When they were within fifteen meters of the house, the men pushed off the wall and blocked their path. Raphael attempted to square up, keeping Anita behind him. "Can I help you gentlemen with something?" he asked. Anita whimpered behind him, recognising them as thugs of the Benji Gang.

"Yeah, Phantom," one of their voices was laced with disdain and reeked of something equally awful. "You've lost ye touch. Not as careful with yourself as you were." His accent was wildly inconsistent, making Raphael uncomfortable.

He blinked. "I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong person."

The thug grabbed a fistful of Raphael's shirt and lifted him from the ground, surprisingly strong for an otherwise unremarkable sized man. "Don't get smart with us, Phantom. We have orders."

Raphael bit back a sarcastic remark as he countered, "I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about." He pinched the man's hand with a sudden strength; he yelped and dropped him. "But you're scaring my sister and quite frankly myself. So if you'll please step aside, gentlemen." Raphael pushed his glasses back of his nose.

"Cut the crap, Phantom." Another voice lurked from further down the street as a much larger man marched down. The three thugs parted for him to stand in front of Raphael.

When most people think gang leaders, many things come to mind. Some believe they're rather dirty looking, do nothing but smoke cigars, wear the same shirt five days in a row and appear otherwise unhygienic. While others can view them as more sophisticated entities that dress in suits and seem tall and intimidating. Benji was the latter.

Dressed in a pressed black suit, with panther hair to match, he stood several inches taller than Raphael. "Your disguise cannot fool everyone," unlike his grunts, he was aggressively articulate, almost over pronouncing his words to hide his foreign accent.

"This isn't a disguise, and I haven't the slightest clue who you are," Raphael replied, maintaining his clueless façade.

He knew who Benji was, he knew the bounty they had on his head, he knew that if he weren't on the street in a public place surrounded by eavesdropping women from each house, Benji would've shanked him by now. At one point, the two considered each other comrades, perhaps business partners in specific endeavours. Raphael used his resources to find certain paintings. But when Benji's resources began running dry, Raphael's interactions with him became minimal until he won Anita from him.

Or rather stole.

Benji proved he was still angered by Raphael's denial as he subtly showed off the pistol resting on his hip under his jacket amidst his laughter. The firearm hadn't shocked Raphael, but the sight of it did make him sweat.

Anita's breathing audibly hitched as she leaned against Raphael's back, not brave enough to look at Benji.

The gang leader's face rested on a smirk as he tilted his head to Anita, whose eyes were round orbs staring at the ground. "This won't take too long, sweetheart," he assured, turning his attention back to Raphael.

He was unable to hide his anger as one hand curled into a fist. "Don't talk to her like that," Raphael hissed, "She's a child."

Benji laughed again, "I think you and I both know there are certain resources that are beneficial to us."

Raphael shook his head, breaking his disguise of ignorance, "Please. You never even acknowledged her skills until I utilised them." Raphael reached behind him and took Anita's hand, "And she's a person, not a thing. And you certainly don't deserve her, and I will make sure you never touch her again." He attempted to walk around Benji but felt his hand press against his shoulder, preventing him from walking.

"Don't tell me you've caught this fever of stupid that's going around, Phantom. First, you blab about where you live of all places, and then you become so cocky you don't even realise this entire area is surrounded." In response to this, Raphael noticed more figures further down the street, sitting on benches or on the street corner reading newspapers.

"If that's the case, I'm surprised you bothered to come in person," Raphael whispered back, "I almost feel special."

Benji shoved Raphael, him stumbling into two of his grunts who restrained him. In a single swipe snatching the glasses off Raphael's face and examining them.

Anita released the smallest squeaks of fright, stepping closer to the gate and away from the threat. Raphael knew better than to fight against his captors and tried to stay quiet.

But he couldn't help himself.

"May I have those back?" he requested, "I'm awfully blind apparently."

In response, Benji snapped them in half, the glass cracking and digging into his palm, but he didn't seem to mind.

"This will be you if you don't cooperate," he dropped the glasses and stood on them, "Now hand over the girl."

Raphael's resolve hardened, and he yanked his hands from the grunts.

"Over my dead body," Raphael replied.

Benji laughed again, "That can be arranged." He unholstered his gun and launched forwards, attempting to push aside Raphael to grab Anita. His attempts failed as Raphael gripped Benji's wrist, managing to overpower him enough to not touch Anita and stumble back.

Flustered, the gun was raised, and Raphael felt his heart leap.

"Police!" someone chanted. This was followed by a dozen more officers coming from all walks of life, cars, bushes, down the street, inside neighbouring houses.

Raphael heaved a sigh.

Some of the thugs attempted to flee but were quickly subdued. Benji's gun was still aimed at Raphael, but he didn't try to run away. Within a moment of realising his defeat, he dropped the weapon and complied with the demands of the police.

Amongst them was Detective Riley, directly approaching Raphael with a raised eyebrow, "Fancy seeing you here," he stated.

"Indeed…" Raphael felt a bit shell-shocked and quickly admitted it, "Forgive me, I'm a bit jarred."

Detective Riley looked to Anita, who clung to Raphael. "We were given a tip that the Benji Gang would be in this area," he informed, folding his arms, "Wouldn't have any clue about that?"

Raphael shook his head, "None indeed sure. I think they mistook me for someone else," he looked to Anita, "They were after Ann. Are we in some sort of danger?"

Detective Riley saw the glasses on the ground and picked up the frame, handing them to Raphael as he replied, "I can understand the confusion in some sense. You have a remarkable resemblance to another criminal. The Phantom of the Paris."

Raphael smiled as he ran his fingers over his Grandfather's broken frames. "If I became a criminal, I wouldn't pick such a cliché title."

He doubted the Detective believe him, but thankfully, he didn't pursue it. He just asked a handful of questions before Raphael said, "We don't mean to sound uncooperative, but is there any way we could do this later? We just came from the hospital. We need some rest."

The Detective nodded, "Of course. But would you be willing to come down to the station later for some follow-ups? There's a lot of questions just hanging in the air."

Raphael nodded, "That's fine, sir."

Raphael got to his front door when the police and the Benji Gang were either captured or scared off and felt his legs give out from fright. He sat on the front step and caught his breath, his heart throbbing in his ears as he tucked his head between his legs to compose himself. "Oh God… that was scary," he confessed, sitting straight.

Anita sat next to him, slightly paler but otherwise fine.

After a moment of stunned silence, the two shared a chuckle. Amidst Raphael's laughter, he stood up, producing a key and unlocking the door. "A part of me thought that wasn't going to work," he confessed, "Detective Riley was pushing it ridiculously close."

Anita slipped in and promptly went up the stairs. A moment later, he heard her bedroom door open and close. Raphael dropped his key into a bowl and sat at the bottom of the stairs. But an idea formed, and he couldn't help but smile as he jumped to his feet and sprinted up the stairs.

About an hour later, Raphael knocked on Anita's door. "Ann? Can I come in?" he asked. He heard no response, so he slowly opened the door.

She was sitting on the ground, three plushies sitting in her lap as she looked up from one of her books. Raphael approached her, kneeling and sliding before her as she placed the book down and hugged the toys closer. "You okay?"

Anita shrugged, holding a bunny toy close to her face.

"I know that this has all been… an insane couple of days," Raphael confessed, "But it's all over now. And I have a bit of a surprise for you." His statement rewarded him with a quizzical look from Anita. "Come with me. I've got something I want to show you."

Raphael guided Anita up to the attic, where all was dark until Raphael turned on the dozens of lights. The room had been organised so that all replicas depicting places sat on easels. Depictions of rivers in Rome, buildings in America, cottages in the countryside and many more. But amongst the works that showed colourful, daytime environments, at the end of the room was the image of Paris at night time. The work Raphael had been working on for weeks and recently gotten stuck with. It demonstrated a gorgeous night-time setting with Paris lights and the Eiffel Tower in the background. Despite the still image, it made the painting's location seem alive.

Anita recalled Raphael telling her it was unfinished because there was a park bench in the foreground with no one sitting on it. But now there was; three cats, one ginger, one blonde and one small white one. Anita raised a pinkie to the feline, barely touching it to make sure it was dry before she allowed her hand to simply run over the brush strokes in awe.

"I finally figured out what to fill the picture with," Raphael informed, "I personally think it's quite charming."

Anita giggled as she agreed with him. After a few moments of quiet, Raphael finally announced, "Pick one."

She gave him a confused look.

He repeated himself. "Pick one. Whichever one you like the most, we'll go there," Raphael explained. He gestured to an image of countryside Italy. He spoke about Switzerland's majesty, the possibility of Hungary, Russia, Germany, or somewhere overseas such as Canada or America. "Nothing ties us to Paris anymore, Ann. We can go anywhere your little heart desires, completely start over, just the two of us like we always planned."

Anita was in a state of shock, managing a few croaked words. "But what about Sam? Or your friends and connections? Maria?"

Raphael kneeled before her and took her hands. "We can write letters, and visit, Ann. But this is our opportunity now. To leave all of this behind, everything that has happened to us can stay here." He stood and approached some paintings, flicking through some until he found one of a caste on a hill. "We can find our own castle and become knights like you said you've wanted to." He gently replaced the painting. "I can sell all of these, and we will leave, and I'll get a proper job. We can live out the rest of our days as humble sheep farmers or toymakers, or crazy cat people. Just pick, and that's where we'll go."

Anita seemed genuinely stunned, and Raphael thought he may have laid on the decision too thickly. But he meant what he said. Raphael was prepared to leave Paris for her, to set up shop somewhere where no one knew their names, where they had no history, no pain, no reminders of what they've had to overcome. He was ready if she was.

She considered this extensively, circling the paintings in wonder.

Eventually, she approached one. Holding her hand out until she contacted Raphael's painting of Paris. "I don't want to leave Paris… Ralphie…" she groused.

Raphael blinked, a touch surprised. "Are you sure, Ann? Money isn't an issue. We don't have to stay."

Anita shook her head, turning to him. "Paris is our home, Ralphie."

Raphael nodded, unable to hide his smile.

"If that is your wish, then of course." Anita embraced Raphael. "You are my home, sweetheart." She dug her face into his chest to hide her sob. Her occasional body trembles gave her away. Raphael gently stroked her hair. "We'll stay in Paris, Ann. We'll stay at home."

*

Fete de Paris had been done for a couple of days by this point, but the streets of Paris were still crowded with everyday merriments. Street musicians played their tunes on the corners of roads, and lanterns were still strung up along most fences, allowing shopkeepers to have enough confidence to sell their wares well into the night.

Raphael and Anita were amongst the tomfooleries as men and women waltzed in gleeful steps around the park.

They each took refuge under a large tree, watching as more and more Parisians joined the small party.

Within moments of sitting down, the pair heard the familiar fiddle of a violin that overpowered other instruments by sheer passion alone. Raphael saw Maria's golden hair among the top hats and colourful headbands as she twirled around and danced amongst the people, her violin skillfully in hand. He managed to catch her eye, to which she smiled and nodded before disappearing amongst the crowd.

He leaned closer to Anita, so she could hear him. "I know today has been nothing but surprises for you," Raphael said, "But I do hope your little heart can handle one more."

Anita beamed her signature, rosy smile as some kids suddenly approached them. One of the girls, quite suddenly screaming, "Tag! You're it!" as she tapped Anita on the shoulder.

The suddenness of it shocked her at first, but upon receiving an encouraging nod from Raphael, she stood up and started running amongst the children, sometimes managing to tag someone.

"Fancy seeing you here," someone said.

While Raphael was distracted, someone had approached him. Sam, dressed in her comfortable brown trousers and a regular shirt, sat beside him. "We've got to stop meeting like this," Raphael replied, "Out of everyone in Paris, it seems like I'm always running into the same exact people. I'm starting to feel special."

"You're certainly a special case," Sam admitted. "How's Anita?"

"Still a bit rattled, obviously. But I feel like she's getting there," Raphael replied. He heard Anita laughing as she ran away from another girl. "We're not leaving Paris anymore, just so you know. Anita really wants to stay."

Sam nodded, "That's good. It's hard to make friends these days."

Raphael snorted, "True. Very true." He looked to Sam, a smile still plastered on his face, "Just in case I haven't already, or I forget to later, thank you. Like from the bottom of my heart, thank you, Sam. You have no idea how much I appreciate your loyalty throughout all this. I really needed it."

Sam scoffed, "Don't get too mushy on me, Phantom. It was nothing."

Raphael gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. To onlookers, it may have appeared strange, but he still did it without hesitation. "Truly. Thank you."

Sam cleared her throat, attempting to hide her blush as Raphael stood up and excused himself.

Just outside one of the park exits was a bridge. Since most of the festivities went on inside the park, in comparison, the bridge was silent. He leant heavily on the bridge railing to look down into the water. In the dim light, he could make out his silhouette. In his peripheral, he saw something moving along the railing. He lifted his head and saw a tiny white kitten approaching him, offering a small meow in response when he stroked its head.

"How'd you find one on such short notice?" Raphael asked.

Maria approached and stood next to Raphael, peering into the water herself as she shrugged. "Walked in, asked for a white cat, they gave me her," she answered matter-of-factly, "She's adorable, though. I almost want her."

"Thank you," he said as he rested the cat on his hip, so it wouldn't fall into the brook below. "So, what's your plan? Are you going home?"

Maria shrugged, "There's nothing really keeping me here. I love Paris, but… it's not home, not yet anyway." Her confession was met with slightly saddened eyes as she found the outline of the palace across the city.

"It's been quite the last few days."

"Yes, it has. I certainly won't be forgetting it," Maria informed.

Their entire conversation neither made eye contact with one another. While their tone was casual and relaxed, both harboured feelings of sadness. When the silence overwhelmed them, Maria spoke up, "My train leaves tomorrow afternoon. If it's okay with you, I'd rather say my goodbyes now than tomorrow." Her voice faltered slightly, but she maintained her composure. "I promise I'll visit and write. I don't know how Anita feels about me right now, but I'll be quite saddened if she won't say goodbye to me."

The information was quickly stated. It took Raphael a moment to comprehend it. When he finally had, she moved onto a different part of the conversation. Raphael realised he didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to still be a part of his life, here, in Paris. He wanted to play instruments with her, go on outings to see orchestras when Anita didn't want to, and explore different parts of Paris. He wanted her to stay.

Having not taken in what she was saying, he suddenly said, "You're really leaving."

Maria seemed happy with the interruption as she sighed and nodded, "Yep." She pushed off the railing and stood facing him, the pair holding eye contact for the first time in the conversation. Before Raphael could say or do anything, Maria approached him and placed the lightest of kisses on his cheek, but she lingered, and for a split moment, Raphael felt a strange sense of serenity. It lasted a moment, but when it disappeared, he longed for it back. Maria seemed bashful by her gesture but said, "I promise I'll come back though. We could perhaps pick up where we've left this."

Raphael chuckled in disbelief but nodded in understanding. "Yes," he held out his free hand to shake, "then here's hoping it is au revoir and not goodbye."

Maria looked at his hand, her eyes suddenly glassy, but she didn't cry. "Yes. Au revoir, Raphael."

"Until we meet again," he finished.

Like the kiss, the pair held the handshake longer than needed and were slow to let go of one another when Maria left the bridge. She didn't look back, and Raphael was grateful for it.

The cat under his arm meowed again. Distractedly, he placed it back on the railing and looked back to the water. Seeing his blurry image left alone for only a short time before another figure approached him.

Anita stood beside him and climbed the railing to look down at the water. Her eyes widened when she saw the cat. A tad unprepared, Raphael scooped up the cat and placed it beside her. "A parting gift from Maria," he said, "She's leaving tomorrow and wanted to make sure you got this."

Anita's fingertips barely grazed its soft fur as if she didn't think it was real. When she was satisfied that it was, she picked it up delicately and placed it on her lap, gently stroking it as the pair sat in silence.

Raphael didn't mean to be dramatic, but he had come to the bridge for a specific reason. He fished around his pockets and pulled out his Father's coin engraved with the strange beetle crest of the Unknown Royal. There was so much trouble caused by this coin, what it represented, what it leads to. His Father, in some way, was connected to the Unknown Royals. But he wasn't in the catacombs or at least prays that he wasn't. But if he wasn't there, then where else could he be? And why would he be associated with such a horrible association?

Raphael sighed through his nose as he held the coin again, his lips determined not to cry as he did so. "If my father was still alive," he mumbled, "We would've found him by now." His voice wavered as Anita looked at him, "If my Father was still alive, he would've come back, right?" Anita didn't answer him. "I don't know if I'd recognise him if he came back," he confessed, "And I don't know if I'd want to."

He flicked the coin into the air and allowed it to drop into the river below, the last trace of his Father's whereabouts floating with the currents down the Parisian river.

Anita didn't understand as she watched the coin disappear in the murky water but said nothing as she reached a hand out and held Raphael's.

Raphael had expected it to be harder, to let go of the prospect of finding his Father. But he knew that the man he remembered was far more valuable to him than the man he may find if he kept looking. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and Raphael felt he could truly breathe for the first time in a while.

He offered a genuine smile to Anita as he tightened his grip on her hand. "Come on. Let's go back to the festival."