Now at the door, Emilie opened it a crack, hoping she could keep him at bay with it somehow. He was dressed like he always was; button-up shirt, pressed slacks, Italian leather shoes... even on a day off with the family. She supposed that the lack of a blazer made it casual.

"Green again, Emilie?" Thomas raised an eyebrow at his daughter, looking rather unimpressed. "You know how your mother feels about the hair."

"Dad," She stared to argue, a scowl quick to form on her face. Emilie scoffed in frustration. It was no use to argue with him, he would always win. She learned from the best, but he would always be a little bit better.

After a couple of quick words in Latin, and a ruffle of her fingers through her hair-- she was back to her natural straw-blonde.

"Hey, cool." Her dad grinned, "That's a neat trick. Why don't you teach me how to do that sometime?" He joked.

"Why? You want to go blue on weekends?" Emilie smirked, and they both laughed. It was almost a perfectly normal family moment. Hallmark-worthy. That was until Thomas's smile dropped into a scowl. It was not unlike Emilie's, though her father's was more practiced, colder, worn.

"So where is he?" Thomas's voice grew as cold as the expression on his face.

"Where is who, Dad?" Emilie blinked at him, making a face as if he were asking something ridiculous and she didn't indeed have Ciaran stashed away in the closet.

"Don't lie to me, young lady." He pushed open the door and started to look around the room.