When Harold Quinn answered, his voice was gruff, “Yeah.”

The old woman paused as if attempting to sense his mood, the brightness in her face faded when she succeeded in this endeavor then she nodded.

Then quietly she said, “We’re lucky it worked.”

He nodded back though she couldn’t see him. He’d heard her. Communication with that world was difficult. Messages were received only randomly, messages sent might never be known if they were heard.

Tunahn and Isis and his Circe happy with her king.

Yeah, he was lucky it worked.

“You want to try again…” she trailed off and he nodded again even though she couldn’t see him, somehow he knew she sensed this too.

Harold was right for she smiled a gentle smile.

Then she reached out blindly, touched his arm and whispered, “I’ll never be far, father of the golden Circes.”

Then she turned and walked quietly out of his garage, her cane clicking on the floor as she went.

Harold watched the door close behind her before he walked into his daughter’s office and settled in her chair behind her desk after pulling out his wallet. He flipped it open, gently tugged out the oft-touched photo and looked into a pair of familiar golden eyes.

“She’s happy, Andie,” he whispered to his wife.

Andromeda Quinn did what she always did.

She smiled back at him, her beautiful eyes lit with that bright, golden light Harold Quinn loved so f**king much.