Chapter Thirty-Three

Maria was speechless from the first step through the door. Sam lived in a small mansion titled 'The Pink Dollhouse,' which was a large building painted pink. It was divided into four different apartments, connected only by a kitchen and a living room.

When Maria walked in, she was greeted by an orange cat sitting on the seventh step, who glowered at Sam upon their arrival.

"Shut up, Pip." Sam's words were spiteful.

"Be nice!" an old voice screeched from the next room.

"Then tell Pip to stop growling at me!" Sam yelled back, taking off her shoes by the door.

Maria pondered taking her own shoes off, eventually doing so after seeing twelve sets of shoes placed by the door. The front room led to a stairwell leading to the upstairs and another hidden one leading downstairs—the house smelt of a mixture of cigar smoke, fabrics and old perfume. The décor of The Pink Dollhouse was cold; ancient-looking rugs before wooden rocking chairs and old couches, the fireplace in the living room weren't maintained as the soot tainted what was once white brickwork.

However, the most ancient thing in the room was a silver-haired woman sitting in a rocking chair, her face so saggy with wrinkles; it obstructed her eyes. Despite this blindness, her hands skilfully knitted, not once getting tangled. Another woman walked into the room, taller than the other, but had large breasts which dominated most of her figure. Her white hair was styled to be short, and when she talked, her heels clicked. The tea tray she held clinked with her feet, her cleavage bumping the rim of the tray as she waddled.

She plonked the tray on a coffee table before the wrinkled woman and looked up to Sam and Maria. She squinted when Maria followed Sam, startled. She put some tiny spectacles to her face, "Samantha! I think you're being followed!"

"She's my guest, Miss Dubois," Sam informed, taking off her gloves and placing them on a table.

Maria peeked her head into the living room, noting the green and pink floral wallpaper. She didn't walk into the room.

"She's a friend of a friend. She won't bother you; we're going up to my apartment," Sam informed.

"Remember to blow your nose child!" The wrinkled women suddenly bellowed, she waved her knitting needles in the air, "There's nothing less attractive for a young lady than a dripping nose!"

"Yes, Miss Thomas," Sam chanted.

Sam tugged on Maria's hand and walked to the stairs, deliberately walking around the grouchy cat, before rushing up the rest.

"Are they your Grandmothers?" Maria asked as she heard the two women yelled at each other in discussion.

"No," Sam sifted through some keys before unlocking the door. "The Pink Dollhouse has four families in it. Miss Dubois and Miss Thomas live together on one of the apartments. They use to be fashion designers or something forty years ago." Sam pushed the door opened and gestured for Maria to enter.

Maria felt like she had walked into a different building. The tone of the apartment was drastically unlike downstairs, where the living room had an old-timed atmosphere, this room was more open and simplistic. The four windows had drawn curtains, coating the room in a welcoming glow. It was small and basic.

A set of furniture sat in the centre of the room, a green couch and matching armchairs, and a wide circular coffee table with a wilted flower sitting in a purple vase. Under the middle window sat a large oak writer's desk covered in neat stacks of paper, a large radio and globe of the world. Aside from display cases showing off china and a fascinating gold telescope, the room was bare of most accessories.

Sam tossed her bag onto the armchair and took out her hairpins. The room had two doors which led to other rooms. Maria followed Sam into her bedroom through the left door.

Sam had a cosy room, existing a dark green bed in the centre of the wall, a similar writer's desk to the one in the living room, a floral divider, a dark oak chest at the end of the bed, matching side tables and a doorway to a wardrobe.

Maria rocked on her heels as Sam wandered around her room. She picked up some pants and a shirt before disappearing behind the divider. Sam didn't make conversation as she got dressed, which left Maria alone to wander around the room. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the side table. The surface was bare of dust and featured a black and white photo of a woman, a man and a young child.

"Is something wrong with Phantom?" Sam called. Maria heard the swish of clothes as a pink dress was flicked over the top of the divider. Maria for a second forgot Sam called Raphael Phantom.

"I tried to go to his apartment. But he wasn't home." Maria gently placed the photo back on the table, momentarily mesmerised by the woman. It was remarkable how similar Sam looked to this woman, the only difference being longer hair and a brighter expression captured in her eyes.

"That's my Mother," Sam informed. She had emerged from the divider, fixing the buttons at her wrists, "And my Father. It's one of the only family portraits we have."

Maria was rattled by how boyish Sam appeared with a simple trouser and shirt change. She appeared more rugged, but, knowing she was a girl, Maria thought the clothes made her look like a small boy.

"You look like your mother," Maria stated as Sam ruffled up her hair, messing up whatever style made it feminine, to begin with.

"I'm aware." Her response was flat as she walked to the wardrobe and pulled out her brown coat.

Maria bit her lip, unable to withhold her question. "Why do you dress like a boy?"

Sam froze mid jacket adjustment and frowned, "I get taken seriously like this." She looked under her bed.

"Women get taken seriously, though." Maria tucked her legs to her chest as Sam shuffled closer to under the bed. "And you look nice as a girl."

Sam groaned, "You sound like my Father." Her tone sounded saddened, more than annoyed.

"But how come a boy? You don't seem to hate that you're a girl. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been embarrassed when I pointed it out," Maria informed as Sam's head disappeared under the bed as she tried to reach something. "Girls can wear pants. It's not frowned upon or anything."

"Wow, you're nosy, aren't you?" Her voice was muffled when she spoke, clearing when she pulled out holding a box. Upon opening them, it was the same boots Maria had seen Sam wearing when they met.

"I like knowing," Maria replied, folding her arms.

Sam sat on the bed and reached down to her feet, fitting herself into her shoes.

"I don't like dresses, okay? Or jewellery or make-up or perfume or anything like that." She tightened her laces and continued with the other. "And what I wear doesn't make me look like a boy, everyone assumes. You ask any guy I play soccer with at school or Phantom or anyone at the police station, and I look like a girl to them." She stood up and gestured to herself, "I mean, come on."

Maria smirked at Sam's awareness at her height and build. But she knew there was an underlying reason. She had no doubt that's how Sam justified it; however she spoke with a hint of panic. She seemed over-eager to justify herself. Despite this, Maria nodded. "Alright."

Sam nodded matter-of-factly and sighed. "Are you sure he didn't just ignore you?" Sam quizzed, "I mean, it's been a rough couple of hours."

Maria dropped her legs back to the ground and shrugged. "I'm aware. But Anita might be getting adopted, and I'm leaving soon," Maria explained, "I just feel he ought to know."

"Anita's getting adopted?" Sam was shocked.

Maria nodded, "Yes. She was meeting them when I left. They seemed to be getting along quite well. I was told if it's a successful adoption she would be with them tomorrow sometime."

Sam blindly braced herself against her desk, wide-eyed staring at the ground. "That's remarkably quick."

Maria shrugged, "They've got other kids, and they don't live in Paris. I'd imagine they'd want to get back to them as soon as possible."

Sam bit the inside of her cheek, an action visually noticeable by the way she contorted her face. "So, there isn't much time before she gets adopted out?"

Maria shook her head. "Like I said, tomorrow, day after to be generous. I just thought Raphael might want to give her a proper goodbye."

Sam paced before Maria, her head following each slow step as Sam thought. "The Unknown Royals are still interested in you, correct?" she asked.

Maria almost asked why they mattered now, but they had attacked them only a few days ago. Could Raphael be hiding from them? Anita doesn't have anything they want. Raphael had the ring, she had the pendant, and they assumed they had the crown. Maria nodded.

"Okay." Sam stopped pacing as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Maria watched her jaw clench, and everything tense up. Her eyes hardened as she glared at Maria, "You're going to have to level with me here. I know a lot of about Anita and Phantom, but I still don't know why those guys are after any of you. If you want my help, you tell me what's going on."

Maria felt her mouth go dry, feeling very reluctant to talk about what was going on. If she told Sam about it, would they go after her? Would she even believe in what had happened over the last couple of days?

Maria's silence prompted an eye roll as Sam walked to the door. "Don't waste my time, Maria," she said firmly, "Either tell me what I want to know or get out."

"Okay! Okay!" Maria slipped the necklace over her head and held it out. She found it surprisingly easy to explain everything to Sam, who walked to her desk and sat down, interrupting the story to ask an occasional question, but otherwise staying silent. Maria told her about the night Raphael and Anita saved her on the bridge, the information about the Unknown Royal and the jewellery they seemed to be after. She explained how Sam's attack wasn't the first, detailing the attack in Notre Dame by who she now knew to be a Detective Leroy, and telling her about Anita's attack but safe passage home. The longer she spoke, the more like a fairy tale it seemed to even Maria, but Sam didn't judge, she silently took in the information. "Anita saw you out the window, and we followed after you. The rest you already know about."

Sam's fingers drummed against each other, staying silent for a minute. The hesitation prompted a sigh from Maria, "You don't believe me."

Sam pursed her lips and shook her head.

"No, I do. I got attacked, remember?" She pushed up one of her long sleeves and showed a fresh bruise where someone had grabbed her; Maria hadn't noticed it before. "I'm remarkably ordinary. Not even my Father's work gets the attention of criminals. They would've seen me when Phantom was talking to me at the café, perhaps even saw me when I was considering them. I mean, Detective Leroy was at the police station when I went after the information." She looked at the pendent Maria had given her, running her fingers over the Royal Crest and the beetle simple. She sighed loudly, "This is insane."

"You don't know the half of it," Maria replied, taking back her necklace.

"Why did you come to Paris?" Sam asked. "You don't go to that church unless you're getting adopted or have some escort."

Maria gulped and pondered lying, but chose against it, not wanting Sam to go to Raphael without her on the off chance she guessed she was lying. "I was suspected to be the Lost Royal," according to Sam's reaction, she knew the myth, "I'm not though."

A silence lingered long enough for the moment to be awkward. Eventually, Sam said, "I'm sorry."

Maria forced a smile, "It's fine." She straightened her posture, realising she was slouching, "Do you know where Raphael might be?"

Sam took a moment to consider and nodded. "I have an idea." She stood up, going back to her wardrobe and pulled out a larger brown coat, "It's not a safe place though. I can deliver the message for you." She spoke as she fitted her arms into the sleeves.

Maria's teeth gritted as she stood up. "I'm going!" she informed resolutely, "I don't care if Raphael hates me. But I need to see this through, and I want to try at least and help him. All I've done is…" Maria's breath wobbled as she blinked away tears of frustration, "ruin everything. I need to fix this. Let me fix this, please."

Sam buttoned up her coat, her face not giving away any sign of sympathy. "Fine." She started for the door, "We leave now, though."

Maria nodded, following her out the door.

They were greeted by a man, dressed similarly to Sam, but with a top hat. "Samantha, I'm home," he called out, taking off his hat and placing it on a hat rack. He turned and saw his daughter and Maria. He appeared visually shocked at the sight of the girls. "I didn't know you had friends over."

"Don't worry, Father. We're just leaving now," Sam informed flatly.

He held a hand out, gesturing for her to stop, as he focused on Maria. "You're aware this is my daughter, correct?"

Maria watched Sam's anger flare. "Much to your own disappointment, I'm sure. Excuse us." She attempted to push past him to grab her hat, but he blocked it again.

"Sam, don't talk like that, I'm not disappointed in you," he countered. His voice was similarly flat. Maria could see he was visibly tired by how heavily he leaned on the wall. "I just don't understand why don't you wear one of your dresses if you're going on an outing. You loved your dresses."

"Because I don't want to, Father." Sam attempted again to grab her hat from the table, only for her Father to grab it first.

"Samantha."

"Father. I have a guest. I don't want to have this argument with you right now, please."

Maria watched Sam's Father consider her, this obviously being a roundabout argument between the two, before sighing and hanging her back her hat.

"Be safe then, please," he added, "And don't get into any more trouble."

Sam begrudgingly hatted herself and nodded, "I promise I won't embarrass you, Father." Before he could object, she grabbed Maria's hand and pulled her out the door, slamming it behind them as they left.

*

"What was that all about?" Maria asked. They made their way outside and walked down the street, Sam's hands buried in her pockets and eyes to the ground.

"It was nothing," Sam replied.

"Didn't seem like nothing." Sam didn't respond. Maria tugged on her elbow, "You can tell me, you know. It's not like I'll have anyone to tell."

"That hardly puts confidence in you," Sam countered, replacing her pocketed hands with folded arms. "But fine. If you must know, my Father and I don't get along very well. We see things differently, unfortunately."

"How so?" Maria shivered at a cold breeze, the hair on the back of her neck making goosebumps run up and down her spine.

Sam's coat protected her from the wind. "My Mum died when I was little. It's just been Father and me since. Almost ten years even. In that time, he has always been more interested in his work than in his own daughter." Sam's tone shifted to forced nonchalant. Maria had no doubt it no longer bothered Sam, but she could tell it wasn't just something she could dismiss. "He's a detective. At first, it was just a late night or bringing work home, but then it graduated to days at a time in his office, forgetting to come to get me from school, leaving me with relatives, or long-term babysitters. I started seeing him less and less, and he still saw me as the little girl he left behind when I was six or seven. The one who wears frilly dresses and likes tea parties and jewellery and teddy bears." Sam halted, and Maria watched the change, the anger rose as Sam spoke. "I just wanted to try and understand my Father, to connect to him again. So, I tried to help. It didn't work, and our relationship has been strained ever since. Happy?"

Maria didn't know how to respond. The story felt familiar to her somehow as if she had heard something like it before. She returned to Sam's side and put an arm around her in her best attempt at comfort. Her attempts were met with a long sigh from Sam. "If Phantom is where I think he is," Sam shouldered Maria's arm off, "Then we'll have to hurry. I don't fancy getting there before it gets too dark."