"Hello, Northwest," Angela said distanly as she entered the room.

"Hello," the man answered. Fiddling with his hands and with nothing else to say, he asked the only thing he could think of. "How's Father Time? Is he walking the mall? Getting vaccinated for pneumococcal pneumonia?"

"That is why I asked you here. He hasn't made contact since he embarked on an expedition."

"No search party?"

"Disillusionment had come to Dad. When the expensive suits dismissed his quest for a mythic kingdom off the recorded books of history 101, he bet on himself and left his comfort zone leaving instructions that if he did not return from Shard Mountain, no rescuers should be sent to avoid the risk of suffering his inevitable fate; a wish the execs are more than happy to honor."

"How many stages in a midlife crisis?" The preservationist turned toward the door.

"He wanted you to have his watch," Angela said softly.

Locke slowed to a stop, shoulders slumped as thought they became heavy. "What?"

"He willed you his pocket watch. Of the treasures you've searched for, how many were a gift to you?"

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