Things have a funny way of working themselves out.

“Here, drink this.”

Sitting on a wooden bench in an office behind the museum’s info center, Mather accepts the paper cup from the woman and drinks.

“Better?” Mather nods. “Good. I’m Mathilda.” She extends her hand. Mather, still holding the cup, a bit wonky over passing out, and lost without Mouse, fumbles with the cup a moment before crushing it and placing the remains into his jacket pocket.

“Uh, I’m Mather.” He clasps her hand while trying not to look at Mouse’s final resting place.

“Well Mather, nice to meet you. What brings you to our museum today?”

“Well, I… um, forget. I think maybe I was going to steal something. I don’t remember.”

Mathilda laughs. “Oh, you poor thing. You must have bumped your head.” She strokes the hair away from Mather’s forehead as he shies away from her fingertips.

“Can… May I have some more water please?”

Mathilda drops her hand. “Sure.” She winks. “Don’t go anywhere now.”

And perhaps things just got a whole lot worse.