Once Harker had taken the kids to school and his Dad had run off for another urgent 'client meeting', he decided to head for the Institute.

The vulture from the logo seemed to be beholding him with its large, unblinking eyes. Harker used to find it unnerving, but now he just found it annoying. This ceaseless watcher that loves to spectate on him as if waiting for his downfall.

But as he was about to get inside, he saw the figure of someone he didn't expect.

"Joan?" He called out.

Joan turned around. She was talking to someone, some scientist with large spectacles, freckles, and chapped lips that he seemed to like to pick on. Harker thought that he looked familiar...

And he froze when he saw his name on the ID card.

Henry Clerval.

But he looked nothing like the Henry Clerval that was Edmund Walton's right hand man. No, he was certain that Henry had blonde hair, and this one was a brunette.

"Oh, Harker. What are you doing here?" Joan asked. "This is Henry M. Clerval, by the way. Henry, this is Harker Jones. My... research partner."

Henry M. offered his hand. "Nice to meet you, Sir."

Harker now recalled why he looked so familiar. He was the one that Harker had stolen the ID of back when he sneaked in at BITMAC and met Victoria Seward for the first time. They seemed to be lab partners working together in their neurology research.

"Nice to meet you too... I was... I had something to inquire about at the front desk." Harker said, turning to Joan. "What about you?"

Joan looked away, her voice softening. "It's Victoria... I'm here to retrieve things she must have left for the burial."

Harker's eyes widened. He couldn't believe that Joan would still want to give her sister a proper burial after everything, along with the fact that Victoria just handed her to An Xin members as a sacrifice.

But he soon realized there must be more to it. It can't be the only reason.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Seward. Victoria had been a good colleague to all of us, and she was one of our best." Henry M. said. "She was very dedicated, in a way that I thought only existed with researchers in fiction. Because of this, uh.... Not many had interacted with her often. She wasn't really on bad terms with them, but it's mostly professional. I will try to get them to visit the funeral, though."

Joan shook her head. "There's no need. The ones who want to come will come. If there isn't any, that's alright too. It's a closed casket."

"Oh." Henry M. looked like he wanted to ask something more, but shook his head.

Harker couldn't take it anymore and blurted out. "Are you by any chance of English descent?"

The man blinked. "Yes, I am. How can you tell? I mean, my ancestors were from England, but my great grandfather had moved to America after World War 1. I don't have an accent, right?"

Joan knew what he was getting at, and asked as well. "You see, my sister... We found her with this journal for a Henry Clerval too. He was a sailor from the late 1700s."

Henry M. suddenly went 'Ah!' as he came to an understanding. "Yes, yes! I remember now. That journal actually belonged to me, it's an heirloom. I was wondering where that journal went, I was quite upset that I lost it. My grandfather said it belonged to my great great uncle.... or maybe there's another great there, I'm not sure."

He added. "Anyway, my dad wanted nothing to do with it but he did name me after that great uncle. Said that he used to be a very smart man, the pride and joy of his parents until he ran away. When he left, my great great grandfather was born and only heard things about him."

Harker and Joan looked at each other. So that's how Victoria got the journal and learned about Eden.

Henry M. then asked. "Well, if you have the journal, can I have it back? It matters quite a lot to my family."

The journal was lost after all the chaos back in the Arctic.

Joan looked apologetic and shook her head. "I'm sorry. When we found it with my sister, it was destroyed beyond repair and we didn't think it was that important so we disposed of it."

The descendant of Henry Clerval frowned. "Oh... That's unfortunate. Can't say that I'm really mad though, not even with Victoria. I never really liked the thing, I just kept it because.. Well, my father told me to. He's the kind of man that will not take 'no' for an answer, you know?"

Joan nodded. "Yes.. I know that type of father."

"Victoria told me... She and I understand each other in this regard. So I felt a sense of closeness even though we don't really talk much. God knows I tried my best to make friends but... I know Victoria is just like that. She had her own goals, and she's much more inclined to live her life achieving them and ignoring all distractions."

Harker knew there was more to Victoria being a 'goal-oriented' person, but didn't speak out. He can see Joan spacing out from being reminded of her sister so much. Besides, Edmund...

Victoria was also another thorn in her heart.

Harker knew he had helped pluck out the thorn that Edmund Walton made, and was helping to slowly heal that wound. But Victoria's memory might take a longer while, as it's even more complicated. Their complicated relationship had spanned for centuries, after all.

Joan then picked up what seemed to be a box of Victoria's things from the ground. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Clerval. My partner and I will be going to the front desk now. I know I shouldn't keep you from your work too long, have a nice day."

"It's no trouble at all. I'll... see you at the funeral." Henry M. said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. "Just give me a call."

"I will."

They parted ways, and Harker and Joan silently approached the front desk. Harker asked about his father's visit, and got the time that he did, but nothing besides that he appointed a meeting with a 'Yakov Perelman'.

He wasn't actually working in the Institute and was instead a sponsor funding some of the experiments. So Harker could only get his telephone number in the end and his name to follow along his father's trail.

He explained this to Joan as they went back. Joan was headed to her own flat, at a penthouse downtown. Harker could notice that though she did show interest in the topic and was responsive, she was far from fully present and aware of her surroundings.

This was proven when she suddenly tripped on some uneven tarmac from a road widening. Harker stopped her fall, but the contents of the box spilled out. historical

"Oh, sorry... I wasn't...."

She trailed off before she could finish the sentence as she saw a photo on the ground.

It was a photograph of just Joan and Victoria. Joan picked it up, smiling softly....

"This was the day. The day she could have been free." Joan said. "This was the day that...."

"My parents died after the fire, and we moved for a new life. Yet in the end, it was only me who did that. Even when they're gone, Victoria was stuck in this state of trying to prove herself... even to a bunch of ghosts."