His eyes go bigger. "...right. we can do that. I'll look around. Uhm. We'll talk about when they started acting weird after?"
"...Yeah." She is not looking forward to that conversation. But it has to happen if she's going to fix any of what she fucked up.
"...yeah. We'll figure something out. Promise," Even squeezes Mutt's shoulder. "Help me look around, okay?"
Between you all, you're able to find paperwork that should go a long, long way - taxes, passports, birth certificates, bills, going back to when your parents first started handling their finances together. One of them has certainly been meticulous!
Arie is... not much more calm. The study was rich ground, of course, but in between documents she had to talk to Ethan. She might not have known what to say, but she expected anyone else would know what to say even less. She promised to find Mom and Dad, as if she had any reason to think that she could. She gave him the iron fish, and made him promise to always keep it with him, as if that would keep him safe. She's been rereading this spreadsheet for the last five minutes without actually retaining any information.
Nul... You understand the words, but a lot of this is... dense. You're not completely sure how the different things connect - you have some information, gleaned from the part of you that sings harmony with Mica's half of the soul, things bleeding through... but Mutt's lack of education is complicating the flow of information. If you take more time, you're sure you can learn to make sense of it.. you can understand the meaning and importance in fits and starts, but it's still slow, strange going.
Arie. Ethan was quiet, subdued. Scared. He clearly doesn't know how to deal with all of this, knows that it's all important, but... he's scared. Luckily, he's not denying that they vanished. Unluckily, he's being quiet. Clinging more, now. He followed you and Nul into the room with a plastic chair from the little desk in his room, has the fish sticking out of a pocket of his cargo pants, is fidgeting away with the tablet your parents gave him last year for Christmas. The sound is low, but every now and then an impressed computerized voice tells him he's "Doing Great!" He keeps touching the fish. Making sure it isn't gone. Glancing over to make sure you're still there, too. He thinks he's hiding his nervousness, but... he's still a little kid, and you've known him all his life.
If this were a couch, Arie would scoot closer, assure herself of her brother's presence under cover of comforting him. But it's chairs. At least there's the sound of the video game. Okay, that's two hundred and... and... these numbers are starting to just look like squiggles rather than anything meaningful. She clears her throat and says "Nul, do you want to switch for a while? I think I need fresh eyes."
