She shook her head. No, she did not have any contact information about Raine. She didn't talk to Raine, Zel did.  Emeline was not in the business of talking to her brother's friends. She had never attended Hogwarts, it would have been weird. No, her friends were people she met through work.

And then, Adon asked why she felt like it was her fault. Either he was way out of the loop, or this was a concern, a worry, that non-werewolves didn't have to think about.

But still, the aurors were nice. Em was mostly comfortable with them.   She'd be patient.

"I--" Emeline began, looking at her siblings anxiously. "The werewolf games. Where werewolves were being captured to, to fight muggles." Her eyes met Adon's, "The person who did this, or people-- they still haven't been caught. Zel wouldn't be a werewolf if I hadn't  bitten him." And she wouldn't be a werewolf if her father hadn't been such a hateful man. She didn't want to know what he'd done to deserve his fate.

She released Emeric and sighed. "Are you going to be the one interviewing Zel, if you find him?"

Remaining impassive was harder than Migs had anticipated.  With a fair bit of effort, the Auror trainee refrained from offering blind comfort and reassurance.  Again, with some effort, Migs also refrained from glancing at the older Auror when asked whether they'd be interviewing Zel when they found him.  He assumed that wasn't a given.  The Powers-that-be were probably going to worry about those details after they had found the young man.  However, he wasn't sure if they should admit such vacuities and he doubted demonstrating his inexperience by glancing at Eleor would help.   

He left that question to Eleor and focused on the other information.  If the disappearance was related to the werewolf games, as Emeline feared, that decreased the likelihood that the disappearance was random of unplanned.  Someone connected to the games would have likely identified him ahead of time and, presumably, there would have been some coordinating. 

"Did Zel happen to mention any abnormal interactions with anyone?  Anyone paying him a peculiar level of interest?"

Emeline didn't like that her question went unanswered. Clenching her teeth together, she inhaled slowly through her nose and exhaled. She had to cooperate the best she could, but the fact that she didn't have answers for the questions that he was asking only frustrated her more.

"No. Nothing abnormal." Em replied tersely, "Everything has been normal." Or as normal as it could be, given their family situation. "I'm not around him all the time! I work two jobs. And he's a private person, he doesn't... Tell me everything. I don't tell him everything."

Inwardly, Adon chided himself.  This was an emotionally charged conversation, and likely Migs' first interview in the field.  Maybe his first interview at all. Adon ought to have checked in about Migs' experience  beforehand.  And he oughtn't to have let him fly quite so independently.  But he hadn't wanted to coddle.  But Migs didn't--and could hardly be expected to--understand the intricacies of what the victim's family were feeling.  Adon wondered if he knew of any Auror who truly did. Except, perhaps, himself.  Migs'' instincts, otherwise, had been good: all the' questions, if answered in detail, would have been informative, and had they been in an interview room on Level Two, they would have also been fully appropriate.

But they weren't there.  There were in Emeline Trumble's home, in front of Zel Trumble's very young and very startled younger siblings.  Elements willingness and gratitude at their presence had slowly shifted from overwhelmed to guarded.  And it was now Adon's job to satisfy Emeline's very pressing emotional needs, to build sufficient rapport so as to enlist her support in future, while yet not appearing to correct Migs and undercut his authority and, dare Adon say it, probably his fragile ego.  Any trainee would feel as though they were merely play-acting at authority at this point in the game.  Adon had had the rare advantage of years of formal interviewing, leadership, combat, and fieldwork before he had even begun his Auror training.  In stark contrast, Nagde was fresh out of school.  Practically Zel's peer, and younger than Emeline.  He needed to remember that.

"Of course," Adon cut in emphatically.  "That makes perfect sense.  We were not meaning to ask for a catalogue of interactions."  His tone was, as best he could convey, apologetic.  "I have been through this personally myself--twice; I know that it is natural to revisit and analyze the days leading up to the event, trying to make sense of it."  She had obviously already done so, coming to some very detrimental conclusions about her own culpability, but he'd see if he could try to tack back to that later.  "What we are trying to convey," he said, looking supportively at Migs, "is that we want you to know that anything that may come to you in the coming days--concerns, hunches, recollections, interactions of note, details like what he was wearing," he gave a congratulating glance at the little brother Luke at this point, "those may be very helpful to us.  And we want you to know you can come to us personally."  He fished into the deep interior breast pocket of his robes, presenting his card.  He gave a more open smile.  "I'm just next door, if you need me. And as an Auror-in-training, Trainee Nagde here is practically required to be at your beck and call."  His eyebrows rose mischievously to his minion-for-the-day.

"Just so you know, we're here for you, and we're here for Zel.  As luck would have it, you've actually  got the majority of the Auror Corps actively on this case, so while I cannot promise you that we'll  be the ones interviewing Zel, I can say that I'll do what I can for you," he extended the glance down to include Luke as well as Emeline, "to be the first to see him, once we find him."

That had made all the difference in the world.  Say what he would about Adnan Musallam--and Adon did, as a matter of fact, and it was not generally favorable these days--at least the Head Auror had allowed his elder brother to be reunited with his family before the full debriefing.

Well, that about covered it--addressing her question he hoped, rather seamlessly; asking her assistance; reaching out... the only things left to cover were:

"We will read the letters and contact you if we have any further questions. And please--do the same."  His tone indicated a winding down--his slow shift of weight, then movement towards the entrance of Zel's room all but confirmed it: they would not draw out this meeting longer. They'd follow-up, if necessary; that would, most likely, have a better shot of keeping the fragile equilibrium they were barely keeping together. 

He made his way back through the main room, where the little sister--Zena, he remembered by the briefing papers they'd scanned--had obviously been waiting, with several tea cups she'd presumably prepared in the time they'd been away.  The sight of it was wholly heartbreaking. That's right, he remembered: they'd been offered tea.  Unexpectedly, Adon's throat had grown tight and he took a beat to take a deep breath, hoping no one had noticed. "No time for tea today," he said to the young girl regretfully, waiting for the others to catch up to him in the front room, "but perhaps later this week, hmm?"  He wasn't sure what this would do to his schedule this week, but he would make the time, if he were home at a decent hour.

Turning back to Emeline, he asked, candidly, "Do you have any more questions for us before we leave?"