《Pockets of Gold and Silver》


 Notes About This Story

    Hello, everyone. This is -Werewolf14-


    This story has elements that might be triggering for some people, including violence, murder, death, and manipulation/abuse.


    Like my other stories, Pockets of Gold and Silver has violence. However, like I mentioned above, there are topics that go beyond just some fight scenes. This chapter is a trigger warning for some of the overarching topics in this story. There will be a trigger warning at the top of the chapter with the specific warning and whether it''s for the entire chapter or just a part, and a summary will be posted at the end with the basics (skimming over it, no details, enough so nothing is missed but nothing past that)


    If you feel that any of the previously-mentioned topics are a triggering subject for you, I would recommend considering if this story is right for you. Not every story is right for everyone, and that is ok. I do not wish to have anyone stumble across an unwanted surprise.


    And, also, I welcome constructive criticism- I''m always looking to improve my writing. If you see something, let me know. But you do not need to be flat out rude. If you don''t like this story (or any story, for that matter, on Royal Road or elsewhere), you can stop reading at any time. No one is forcing you to read, and that hateful comment you post is not necessary. While constructive criticism is helpful, just plain rude comments do not help anyone.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Plagiarizing is not, and never will be, ok. Taking someone''s hard work and using it as your own is incredibly disrespectful to the person who put in the time and effort to craft their story. Instead, please write your own, in whatever genre and style you enjoy. I know you can create a wonderful story that is truly your own creation. If it''s something you love, someone else out there will enjoy it too when they discover it. Please do that instead of stealing someone else''s work- write your own story.


    NOTE: I have only published Pockets of Gold and Silver on Royal Road and Wattpad under the username -Werewolf14-. If you see this story anywhere but here on Royal Road or on Wattpad under the username -Werewolf14-, it does not belong there and do not read it- it has been stolen.


    Pockets of Gold and Silver is a complete story and will be getting a chapter about every day :)


    I hope you are having a wonderful day, and I hope you enjoy Pockets of Gold and Silver!


    -Werewolf14- :)

 Pockets of Gold and Silver - Maps

    Here is the map of Waverwell as I picture it. It''s a valley sort of shape, lowest in the middle and getting higher as you go further out to the sides.


    The colored portions are where each city lies. The grey lines represent the major roads, and the brown line represents the Waverwell Trainline. Major locations (Waverwell government building, the Moonfall Precinct, etc.) are indicated, and each of Zip''s Camera Traps are shown as well.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Here is the map of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit''s house. I decided to leave it as black and white since it wasn''t an entire country, as Waverwell''s map is. This is how I picture the layout of their house looking. Each person''s room is slightly different. Ren has their room pretty open, while Ashley has his room filled with bookshelves.


    I hope you enjoy Pockets of Gold and Silver!


    I hope you''re having a wonderful day. If not, I hope tomorrow is better for you!


    -Werewolf14- :)

 Prologue - NYTE

    TRIGGER WARNING: murder/death. See the summary at the end for the brief version of this chapter


    Prologue


    NYTE


    For everything to make sense, there are several things one must know.


    One: they didn''t know who he was, only that someone was there.


    Two: they needed to find him.


    Three: he didn''t want to be there.


    Four: he wanted to try to make things right.


    And five: he wanted to know what he witnessed and why.


    What the reason was behind everything he saw. Why he heard those screams echo in the air. Why he saw that blood splattered across the ground. Why he saw those hollow eyes staring blankly at something he couldn''t see. Why he saw those three figures snickering like someone had just told a funny joke.


    The day had started off just fine. He''d gone to his job. It was boring, but it brought in enough money that he lived comfortably and was saving away a good portion. A friend was going to come over, and they''d binge-watch television together and eat until they swore if they ate one more bit they''d explode.


    He was looking forward to it.


    But the drive changed things. Changed everything.


    He put on his blinker and turned onto Myway Highway, a road that cut through Silverlight Forest, perhaps better known to many as Pocket Forest, due to it being surrounded by grasslands. A pocket of forest that lay in the heart of Waverwell.


    He steered his car onto the highway and turned up the music a little more, humming along. Trees passed him by and he saw a raven gliding over the canopy.


    But then a scream tore through the forest, shattering the serene silence he had been basking in. Instantly, his hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he stiffened, eyes glancing all around as he tried to figure out where the scream had come from. His knuckles turned white as he thought about what he could do. There was nothing playful about the scream; it contained nothing but pain and agony, and he knew it couldn''t have been kids.


    Another one ripped through the trees, echoing in a haunting sort of way.


    He wanted nothing more than to keep driving. Home was a short half hour from here, without traffic. Driving at this time at night, he knew there would be no traffic. Thirty minutes and he''d be home. Only thirty minutes. He''d text his friend that he wasn''t feeling well. Rain check. He knew he''d get questions tomorrow, but he''d have the night to figure out what he was going to say. It would be so easy: keep driving, pull into his garage, lock himself in his bedroom, and tell his friend they''d meet up another night.


    Every instinct told him to keep driving, speed up and don''t look back, try to forget the screams he knew were forever imprinted in his mind.


    But a little voice in the back of his mind told him that if he left, who knew what could''ve happened? He''d regret it for the rest of his life. And he knew he would. What if hehadbeen able to do something?


    That made his decision.


    And so he found himself pulling off to the side of the road, gravel crunching beneath his tires. Every breath he took sounded like it was coming through a microphone, and he could hear his heart pounding in his chest.


    He closed the car door behind him as softly as he could. Trembling slightly, he looked around. A strangled cry sounded a little ways off, just across the road. After glancing each way, he crossed the pavement, staying low before walking into the trees. The soft glow from the moon cast enough light for him to be able to see. His body locked up when a twig snapped underneath his foot, but nothing happened and he continued walking.


    Soon after, he passed through a thick patch of trees. He froze before ducking behind a bush. Before him was a sight he''d never forget, and horror washed over him as tears burned in his eyes.


    Three figures surrounded a fourth person, who lay on the ground, bloodied, body torn, face contorted in agony beyond belief. Their head was bowed down toward their shoulder, and he wasn''t sure they were conscious. Scarlet dripped from cuts and gashes that riddled their umber skin. It stained their clothes rust. The color almost matched the red sneakers they wore, laces tied in neat daisy chains.


    The three figures stood tall, heads high. Each wore a mask. One was a sheep with a lion''s mane and a gas mask. Another was a wolf with black fur and two streaks of gold running from each corner of the eyes. The third was a peacock with a purple scarf wrapped to partially cover the eyes. But he could still see them, and he shuddered. The glittering violet eyes of the peacock seemed to stare directly into his soul. A shiver ran down his spine.


    The figure in the sheep mask knelt down, pulling out a knife. The blade gleamed wickedly in the dim lighting. It was dragged across the person''s cheek, drawing a few beads of blood before the flat of the blade tilted their head up. Unfocused eyes watched the figure in the sheep mask.


    The figure said something he couldn''t quite make out, but he could clearly hear the person''s reply.


    "No," they said. Their voice was strained, but it was sure.


    A punch had their head snapping to the side, blood dribbling from their mouth. They groaned and a shaky hand rose to press against their cheek. Their eyes trailed over the trees and undergrowth, flickering over the bush he was crouched behind. He froze, silently begging anyone who would listen that the person did not see him. Their eyes paused and locked onto where he was.


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    "No," they repeated, gaze moving away from the bush.


    "Do... do what you want, but-but I won''t... I won''t talk." They had to pause to draw in a hoarse breath, but their voice still remained sure.


    What he saw next he knew could only be done by the most twisted of individuals. The three figures further mangled the body of the person leaning against the tree, demanding that they tell them whatever it was they were looking for. But each time the person said no.


    He bit down on his fist to keep himself from crying out. Rust spilled across his tongue. Tears burned in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. His muscles froze to keep himself from moving. The leaves of the bush he was crouched behind obscured a portion of the scene before him, but he could still see. He wished again and again that he was able to do something, but he couldn''t think of anything hecoulddo.


    What''s happening?was all he could think. Horror seeped through his veins. How the three figures could be doing that was beyond him.


    If only I could do something.


    He''d left his phone in the car, but with how far out into Silverlight Forest he was, he knew there wouldn''t be any reception. He could run out at the figures and try to get them to stop, but what would he be able to do? He didn''t know how to fight or defend himself against one person, much less three who were so clearly experts at it.


    His legs were beginning to go numb from crouching in the same position for so long, but he didn''t dare move. He kept his teeth locked around his fist; he didn''t know what would happen if he let go.


    With a quick hand motion from the figure in the peacock mask, the other two stepped back from the person laying against the tree. The figure said something that he thought sounded similar to ''finish it'', but he wasn''t quite sure; horror had him paralyzed and terror''s talons pierced through his insides. The figure in the wolf''s mask snickered and drew a thin knife. The blade glinted darkly in the moonlight, and it was twirled between lean fingers before being firmly grasped in a fist.


    The person laying against the tree looked up, staring down their attackers.And now murderers,a little voice in his mind thought. What if he were to run out to them? Try to keep them from killing the person? Fight them, maybe? He didn''t know how, but maybe he''d be able to do something?


    But he knew he''d get killed, too. He hated himself for thinking that. Hated himself so much for thinking abouthimselfgetting killed when someone else''s life was about to end.What a monster he must be,he thought.


    The figure in the wolf mask drew closer to the person laying against the tree. They kept their eyes on the figures, looking between each in turn, and they shifted to sit up a little straighter, despite their injuries.


    Moonlight gleamed off the wicked blade as the figure in the wolf mask crouched down. The person stared directly at the figure as the knife was drawn across their throat. Blood streamed down their collarbones and chest, and they slumped to the side, going still.


    He bit down harder onto his fist to keep himself from screaming.They- they''re dead,was all he could think, and the thought was on repeat in his mind as he began to tremble and panic.They''re dead. They''re dead, they''re dead, they''re dead. They were murdered.


    The figure in the wolf mask wiped the blade off on a sleeve before turning around and moving to murmur something he couldn''t hear to the figure in the peacock mask. After running fingertips across the blood still dripping from the person''s throat, the figure in the sheep mask rubbed it between gloved fingers, staring at it.


    He didn''t know how long he spent crouched behind the bush, eyes squeezed tight and teeth continuing to dig into his fist. The next time he looked up, the three figures were long gone and the only thing remaining was the person''s body, blood beginning to dry. There was no sign that the three figures were ever there.


    I''m sorry,he thought, willing the person to hear.I''m so sorry. I''m so, so sorry. Please... I''m sorry. I''m so, so sorry...


    Tears ran down his cheeks. He held back a choking sob as shivers ran up his spine until he couldn''t hold them back any more and they racked his body. His skin became slick with salt as he cried into his hands, unable to quiet the grief that coursed through him. The confusion, the anger, the guilt.I''m so, so sorry. Please, you have to believe me. I''m sorry... I''m sorry, I''m sorry, I''m sorry.It was the only thing he could repeat over and over in his mind.I''m so, so sorry.


    Eventually, the tears slowed and left behind salty trails. He ran his hands over his face and took several deep breaths to calm the quiver in his throat. When he glanced up, he saw the person''s body. One of their hands lay off to the side, as if reaching out toward him, and he wanted to vomit.


    Did they know I was there? Did they know I saw them get murdered and did nothing?


    Their head had fallen toward their shoulder and their eyes stared through the ground at something he couldn''t see. He wanted to go over and close their eyelids. Maybe then they could rest a little easier. But he didn''t want to disturb them.


    I''m so sorry,he thought once more before he rose to his feet, using a branch of the bush to steady himself. He didn''t want to go and leave the person''s body alone. Maybe he could give them some sort of burial? He didn''t know what he''d write on whatever headstone he''d fashion; he knew nothing about them. But then no one would likely ever know they were there, and detectives would never be able to track down those three figures that murdered them. Whoever they were, they deserved justice.


    I''m sorry, whoever you were. I wish I knew your name. I''m so sorry.


    He cast one last sorrowful look back at the person''s body, silently trying to tell them just how sorry he really was. Guilt gnawed at his insides.


    The moon was nearly setting by the time he reached his car. It took everything he had to open the door, and he only managed to get in and lock the car before he stopped. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel and exhaled shakily.What did I see?


    His phone had a dozen texts and missed phone calls from his friend, at first asking where he was, but then becoming worried pleas for him to reply. He didn''t respond; he didn''t have the energy. When he closed his eyes, his mind jumped back to the horrific sights he''d seen. A few tears dripped down his cheeks, and they soon became thick trails of salt as shivers wracked his sides.


    "I''m so sorry," he whispered, voice a hoarse rasp. "I''m so sorry. But-... but I promise I''ll find out who murdered you. I don''t know where to begin, but I promise I''ll find who did this. I-I... I could only watch as you were murdered, but I-I-I promise I''ll find them. I''m so sorry."


    SUMMARY: an unnamed person (referred to using the pronouns he/him/his) was heading home to binge-watch television with a friend and was driving along Myway Highway in Silverlight Forest (also known as Pocket Forest) when he heard a scream. After deciding to pull over and investigate since he knew he wouldn''t be able to live down not stopping to see what was going on, he found himself a witness to the murder of a person (also unnamed, as he didn''t know who they were, and referred to by the pronouns they/them/theirs). He saw that the three murderers were all wearing masks: one was a sheep mask with a lion''s mane and a gas mask, one was a black-furred wolf with golden streaks running from the eyes, and the third was a peacock with a scarf wrapped around its violet eyes. He was hiding behind a bush when he witnessed the murder and spent a long time frozen behind it afterward in tears. When he stopped crying, the murderers were gone and left no trace they were ever there, apart from the person''s body. Distraught by what he had seen, he returned to his car and vowed that he would figure out who was responsible.


    Thank you for reading Pockets of Gold and Silver''s prologue! I hope you enjoy it :)


    I hope you''re having a wonderful day. And if not, I hope tomorrow is better for you!


    -Werewolf14- :)

 NYTE - Chapter 1 - Ferris Dipper - Pineapple Doesnt Belong on Pizza

    Chapter 1


    FERRIS DIPPER


    Of three things Ferris Dipper was certain. One: he was not crazy. Two: Charlie was the crazy one. And three: pineapple did not belong on pizza.


    Charlie sat across from him on one of the stools at the kitchen counter, legs up on the one next to her and lounging in her seat. She held an opened container of pineapple slices in one hand and a fork in the other. Ferris stood on the other side of the counter, assembling a few pizzas and spreading the sauce on the crusts.


    "Have you ever tried pineapple on pizza?" Charlie asked, skewering another slice and popping it in her mouth. Her short hair fell from her forehead as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes.


    "Once, and it was a huge mistake." Ferris curled his lip.


    "You can''t say you hate it if you''ve only tried it once." Charlie cracked open one eye to peer at him.


    "I just did." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.


    Ferris slapped away Charlie''s hand when she leaned across the counter and tried to sneak a few slices of pineapple onto the closest pizza. He circled them with a finger. "Ah, ah, ah. No pineapple near the pizzas. It''s a pineapple-free zone here."


    "You make such boring pizzas." Charlie sulked, giving Ferris a playful pout.


    "You''d just add pineapple. That''s two-thirds of your pizza."


    "Two-thirds, not three-thirds. That last third makes all the difference. Sauce and cheese are the basic elements of a pizza. The toppings are what make it interesting." Charlie tapped her temple and smiled.


    "Cheese pizza is one of the most popular pizzas. Pineapple? Not so much. It''s logic."


    "You can''t hate on a pineapple pizza if you''ve only had it once. You''re missing out." Ferris scowled at Charlie, though there wasn''t any genuine anger behind it.


    Kristin walked through the front door, running a hand through his dark, curly hair.


    "Oh, Kristin! Wassup," Charlie said around a mouthful of pineapple.


    "Hey, Charlie. Pizzas? Make sure to save a few slices for Ashley. He''s supposed to get back tomorrow morning and he''ll probably be back before breakfast." Kristin tugged off his jacket and threw it over the sofa before walking into the kitchen.


    Ashley, Kristin''s twin brother, had gone into the nearby town of Moonfall to pick up supplies for their camp. It was a day trip and it was often easier to just stay overnight and return the following day. The dirt roads had proved to be difficult to navigate at night since they snaked through Silverlight Forest and the trees blocked out much of the light.


    "Will do. I''ll put them in the fridge for him. But Kristin, question." Charlie waved her fork as she spoke. Ferris rolled his eyes, already knowing what she was going to ask.


    "Shoot." Kristin leaned his back against the counter, arms folded across his chest.


    "Pineapple. Pizza. Mix them. Yay or nay?"


    "Nay all the way. Pepperoni and sausage. That''s the way to go."


    "Really?" Ferris sighed. "Come on! Cheese pizza! It''s the best."


    "Oh, I see. Debate with Ferris?" Kristin snickered.


    "He makes boring pizzas."


    "I do not! Cheese pizzas are the best! I thought you would''ve agreed, Kristin."


    "Come on, Kristin. Side with me. I''ll share some of my pineapple pizza with you!" Charlie ate another slice.


    "We''re bribing now, are we?" Kristin laughed, throwing his head back a bit. "Keep eating those and you won''t have any more pineapple to put on a pizza."


    Charlie frowned, looking at the container that was now more than half empty and contemplating for a moment. "Yeah, you''re right."


    "You''re not going anywhere near the pizzas with those pineapple slices. I''ll get over pepperoni, but keep that pineapple away from me." Ferris frowned, but he couldn''t hold back a small smile.


    The banter slowed, and Ferris returned to assembling the pizzas, moving from the sauce to cheese. Kristin swiped a cutting board with a partially assembled pizza, which Ferris let go with a dramatic sigh, then set it down next to Charlie. "Wanna split the pizza in half? Pineapple on one, pepperoni on the other?"


    "Sure!" Charlie tipped the remaining pineapple chunks onto her half of the pizza, moving the pieces around a bit until they were evenly spread.


    "Perfect," she said with a smile. Ferris rolled his eyes and continued to make the remaining pizzas, sprinkling cheese on the last one.


    Ferris looked up a few minutes later. "Has anyone seen Ren or Zip? I haven''t seen either of them since breakfast." Charlie shrugged, plucking a piece of pineapple off the shared pizza.


    Kristin paused from arranging slices of pepperoni, narrowing his eyes in thought. "I think Zip is working on some new contraption on one of the bikes. Ask him what it is; I''ve got no idea. As for Ren... I think they''re doing something with one of the dogs. They might be working on tracking with Pyxis." He winced, unsure, but Ferris only shrugged.


    "Alright. Once the pizzas go in the oven, they''ll be done pretty quickly. I hope they get in here soon." Ferris added the last bits of cheese to fill in gaps on the crusts.


    After checking that both ovens were preheated, he picked up a pizza in each hand and moved them to the stove, opened one of the oven doors, and placed them in, careful not to burn his fingers.


    "Ferris, let me add some pepperoni on one of those remaining pizzas," Kristin said. "We''re gonna have four slices, and that''s not going to be enough since both Zip and Ashley like pepperoni pizza, too."


    "Yeah, sure, put them on." He pushed a pizza across the counter.


    xxxx


    When Zip walked through the front door, Ferris was taking the pizzas out of the oven. Zip tugged off his coat in smooth movements and draped it over the back of the couch, a foot or so away from where Kristin''s lay, slightly crumpled.


    "Just in time, Zip," Ferris said, peeling a corner of one of the pizzas up to look at the bottom of the crust. The edges were a bit burnt, but it was still edible.


    "Oh, uh... y-yay."


    "What were you working on?"


    "I, uh. I was fixing that bike that broke. Was able to figure out what was wrong and... and get the right parts. A few weren''t available so I had to figure out how to get around that. Took a while but... it... got it done." Zip shifted on his feet, shoulders shrugging up. His nose wrinkled, and his brown eyes remained close to the floor.


    "Was that the same bike that you fell off of, Charlie?" Kristin slowly turned to face her, a gleam in his eye.


    Charlie leapt off the stool. "No! That wasn''t my fault!"


    "You tried to jump the bike when you didn''t know how, and you wound up breaking both your arm and the bike." Ferris snickered.


    Charlie''s arm had healed without any lasting issues, thanks to Kristin''s skill in medicine. Ferris knew her -and the rest of the group- well enough to know where the line was when it came to teasing, resulting in friendly banter to keep things light in what could be tough times when working to protect Silverlight Forest from criminals seeking to engage in the illegal trade of plant and animal parts.


    "Not my fault you made it look so easy, Mr. I-Can-Jump-Anything-Without-An-Ounce-Of-Effort." Charlie crossed her arms across her chest.


    Ferris opened his mouth to reply, but Kristin cut him off. "Anyway, you said you fixed the bike, Zip?"


    "Yeah, I... I did." Zip rubbed at his cheek before scratching at the back of his neck.


    "Hey, Zip," Charlie said. "You just smeared some oil or somethin'' on your face." She gestured with a hand.


    "Wh-what?" Zip flushed and scrambled over to the sink, nearly tripping on the rug covering the entryway as he hurried from the living room into the kitchen. He switched on the tap, methodically cleaning the oil from his skin.


    "Food''s ready," Ferris said as he cut the last pizza into eight.


    "You burned them." Charlie held up her slice of pineapple pizza, the back facing him.


    "You want to make them next time?" The words slipped out before Ferris had fully thought them through, and they held a bite he hadn''t intended. Something flashed across Charlie''s face, but it was gone before Ferris could identify it.


    "I left them in a bit too long," he added, voice softer than before.


    "It would seem so." Charlie''s voice was flat. Too flat.


    "I''m going to go find Ren." Ferris slipped out of the house and into the courtyard of their camp. He told himself it was to give Charlie space, but he knew that wasn''t the real reason. You know it''s not, guilt told him, weaving through his chest and clinging to him with iron talons.


    The camp wasn''t all that big; their house, a garage for their vehicles and where Zip worked, a storage shed, and the dog house, where their three dogs, Morpheus, Somnus, and Pyxis, stayed and were trained. They had come in handy again and again, tracking down offenders and chasing them so they could be arrested. The courtyard was soil that was more often than not a muddy mess when it rained even an inch or two, and there was a grassy field to the side of their house with a picnic table the group had assembled a year ago when they first started working in Silverlight Forest.


    Since Ren was the one who trained the dogs and worked with them, Ferris headed to the dog house.


    "Ren? You in here?" He rapped one the door a few times with his knuckle before opening it.


    The room was spotless, equipment each in labeled drawers that lined a portion of the walls, harnesses hanging on hooks, and bowls freshly washed and filled with water in each of the dogs'' pens, where a dog bed lay and a little door led to a fenced run for each dog. Morpheus was curled up on his bed, shaggy brown and black fur brushed until it shown and tail covering his nose. He watched Ferris through impassive grey eyes. Somnus snored as he lay on his back, head hanging off the side of his bed. Several scars littered his face, and his ears had been cropped short, the doing of his life before being rescued by Ren when they''d found him in the streets of the Warren.


    "Yes?" Ren appeared from the outside training area, with Pyxis just behind them.


    Fluffy, chocolatey fur hung off her lean frame in thick clumps, giving her an intimidating appearance on her size alone. With her head over waist height, Pyxis was the biggest of the three dogs, and had at least forty pounds on Morpheus, fifty or sixty for Somnus. There had been a few people they''d gone after that had taken one look at Pyxis and stiffened in fear. But while she knew how to fight, she was their tracker; Morpheus and Somnus were the ones who tended to take down the offenders. Pyxis would be the one who would relentlessly follow their trail, alerting the team when she''d found them.


    Ferris scratched Pyxis behind the ear when she walked over to him, just how she liked.


    "We made some pizzas for dinner," Ferris said.


    "Oh, great. I just finished working with her. Pyxis, come." Ren opened the gate to Pyxis''s pen, and the dog bounded over to them and laid down on her bed after a drink of water.


    xxxx


    Dinner was filled with quiet chatter, mainly Charlie''s. Ferris often wondered how she could manage to talk and still get so much done, but he also guessed there was more to it than simply chatter.


    Everyone in their group had one thing in particular that was common ground for them: a past they''d each sought to escape for one reason or another. A side to each of them that they never spoke of.


    They had all met the year before in the town of Moonfall. How they''d each gotten to Moonfall they never really mentioned, and no one asked. When they talked, it was always something that happened after they''d met or something simple¡ªhobbies, favorite music, pets.


    Ferris had assembled what Charlie named the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, or SFPU. He''d found each of the members, and they''d formed a team.


    Under the supervision of Waverwell government, a camp had been constructed with a generous grant to buy the supplies needed to keep the forest safe, with a yearly allotment of money to continue their work.


    Cynthia Corville, the President of Waverwell, was one of their biggest supporters and had travelled to their camp several times to get a first-hand look at how they operated. The group had grown close, and, after a period of time, they''d settled into an easy friendship where they''d joke around when at the camp and relaxing, and would work together like a well-oiled machine when tracking down offenders.


    The Silverlight Forest had thrived when the pressure of the offenders had lessened, though six people covering the entirety of the forest was a herculean task and they couldn''t always be everywhere at once. Unfortunately, they still found snares regularly, and they still lost animals- the price of plant and animal parts on the black markets of Waverwell was still high. It ate away at them, but they just vowed to work a little harder, to find new, better ways to protect the forest. There were always new strategies and technologies to implement.


    "You''re quiet, Ferris." It wasn''t a question, what Charlie said, but rather a statement.


    "Sorry, I was lost in thought. What''s going on?" Ferris blinked a few times to clear his head. He knew he should be getting more sleep, but the yearly report for what had been happening in Silverlight Forest he needed to send to Waverwell government was due soon. Do it right, and the SFPU might get a bigger grant, but do it wrong, and there was the risk of the whole operation getting shut down. While Cynthia and most of the government supported the SFPU, some opposed it, saying that there was a lot of money to be made in Silverlight Forest, new jobs to be created.


    "Nothing much. We were just chatting. Pyxis is getting tracking down pretty well, Ashley still hasn''t responded, and Zip''s got some new tech-y contraption going."


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    "I''m sure he''ll respond soon, Kristin."


    "I know, Ferris. I know. He''s just always the one to respond the fastest." Kristin picked at his pizza crust.


    "Maybe his phone got turned off," Charlie offered, and Kristin shrugged in reply.


    "What''s this new tech-y contraption, as Charlie called it, Zip?" Ferris took a bite of pizza.


    "I-... It''s... I call it... I call it Hades. It''s nowhere near done... but it''ll be able to. It''ll be able to disable machines from a distance." Zip''s gaze stayed locked on his plate, and his dark hair obscured much of his face. His fingers tapped in an even rhythm against the table as he spoke.


    "Does it need a person to operate or can it operate autonomously?"


    "It... either. But... but autonomously it still needs... input before to know what to... do."


    "You''re a genius, Zip! Can I drive it? Oh, imagine getting it to chase around the people we''re tryna catch! They''re gonna be hightailing it outta here with Hades right on their heels and then we''re gonna be waiting for them! Oh, you''re amazing, Zip." Charlie rubbed her hands together, eyes brightening.


    "Zip said Hades will be able to disable machines from a distance. It''s gonna go after their vehicles, not go after the people themselves." Charlie sneered in response, but Ferris knew there wasn''t any true malice behind the action.


    "You''re no fun."


    "Wait," Ren said. "Zip, do you mean disable machines from a distance as in we''re a distance away from the vehicles or Hades is a distance away from the vehicles?" They''d been silent for most of the dinner but now spoke.


    "We''re.... from a distance."


    Charlie picked up another slice of pizza and took a bite. A long string of cheese bridged the gap between her mouth and the slice, and she laughed.


    "Stretchy," she said around the bite, a wide grin on her face. Her hazel eyes sparkled. Ferris rolled his eyes but had to smile.


    "This Hades robot is gonna be awesome. Remember that time that Morpheus was running after that guy for like a mile and he somehow managed to stay just out of reach and get away in his car? Would''ve been nice to have then, but I''m glad we''ll have it now." Kristin ripped a chunk from his pizza crust.


    Zip opened his mouth to reply, but jumped out of his seat when the tv suddenly turned on. The group fell silent and watched as the screen turned from black to light blue and then to red. ALERT was printed in large, white letters.


    "Someone''s here," Ferris murmured. He had some guesses on where they might''ve entered and who it might be.


    "Camera Trap 17 triggered. One person, identified as Pyr Iskie. Moving toward Camera Trap 19." The automated voice on the tv fell silent, and the screen changed to show the live video of Pyr. It was grainy and black and white, but the array weapons Pyr had were visible as he stalked through the forest.


    Zip had several projects he was working on, and the Camera Traps were one of them. His goal was to have the entire forest covered, though only about half of Silverlight Forest had them.


    "I thought we''d arrested him like a month ago," Charlie said.


    "A month and a half," Ren replied, tucking their chair in. "And it seems he somehow escaped."


    "Let''s go. We''re leaving in five." Ferris stood up, clapping his hands together. "Ren, get the dogs ready. We''re bringing all of them. Zip, get the truck going. We''re bringing two bikes too, so the big one. Kristin, Charlie, you''re with me. Weapons and gear. Still going for the live and peaceful arrest if at all possible but still need to be prepared for anything. Get ready and be at the truck in five."


    The casual calm that had once been the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit immediately gave way to a controlled frenzy. Ren and Zip hurried out the front door. A few moments later, their biggest truck''s engine rumbled to life. It could easily hold all of them and the dogs, with room for anyone they''d arrested and two bikes, in case they needed to give chase.


    Kristin and Charlie followed Ferris into the gear closet, a portion of the extra garage they had to hold supplies. What had started off as durable clothing and boots soon morphed into camouflage clothing, bulletproof vests, radios, and weapons as the offenders they were going after grew smarter and more dangerous.


    "Take it." Ferris thrust two bags of gear, which Kristin took but not before casting a look at Ashley''s bag. One was labeled ZIP, and the other REN. They contained all but the weapons. Ferris took his bag and quickly slipped on the clothing. It was loose and designed to take a beating and not tear. He pulled on the vest afterward, letting his mask dangle around his neck. It was easier if those they''d arrested never got to see their faces. They didn''t want to be recognized in public, to have someone make the connection that they were the ones running the SFPU.


    Charlie had already donned her gear and was pulling out the weapons. Knives which they''d strap to their bodies, and guns which they''d carry. "One minute," Ferris said. "Make sure Ren and Zip are ready." Kristin nodded and left for the courtyard.


    Ferris and Charlie gathered the weapons: a gun for each of them, knives, and handcuffs for the arrest. "Let''s go."


    "Let''s go." Charlie''s eyes gleamed as she shrugged her gun over her shoulder. The Charlie Ferris saw now was vastly different from the Charlie who had been eating pizza. No more joking about pineapple, instead a stoney determination to use the knowledge she''d documented through hours and hours of wandering through Silverlight Forest to catch the latest intruder who wished harm upon the Forest.


    Outside, the sun was setting, and it bathed the sky in fire as it slowly disappeared beneath the horizon. If this hunt proved to be like last time, it would be difficult and require ultimate teamwork between both them and the dogs. Pyr was like the fish in Silverlight Lake: slippery, and just when you thought you''d caught him, he had another trick up his sleeve and would manage to break free.


    Zip had pulled the truck out into the courtyard, and the engine rumbled, ready to venture into the forest toward Camera Trap 17.


    "Welcome aboard, Ferris."


    Ferris took Charlie''s outstretched hand as he hopped into the back. Ren crouched by the three built-in travel kennels for the dogs, and they were strapping on Pyxis''s vest. Morpheus and Somnus were sitting in their kennels, the former with a calm expression and the latter nearly bouncing on his paws. The dogs wore their usual collars that identified them as working dogs on one side, with their names on the other. SFPU was written across their vests in bold yellow letters.


    "Everyone ready?"


    "Yeah. Let''s catch this Pyr." Charlie clapped her hands and gave a thumb''s up.


    "Let''s go," Ferris said.


    The truck left the camp behind as Zip piloted it through the gate and out onto the paths in the Silverlight Forest.


    Kristin tapped around on a tablet he''d taken from its charging port on one of the walls, pulling up the map of Silverlight Forest. A little numbered dot represented each of the Camera Traps Zip had set up. "Pyr passed by Camera Trap 19. He''s working his way east."


    Ferris looked to Charlie. "East? What''s east?"


    "As far as wildlife goes, not too much. I mean, they''re fairly spread out over the forest. Many of the deer are further north-." Charlie stopped speaking, and she sighed, lip curling.


    "What is it, Charlie?" Hurry up, Ferris thought.


    "Pyr''s going after the Silverlight Pack. They''ve gone kinda southwest from their den. He''s likely heading for them. Why the hell did he go from the southwest quadrant, though? He knows the den is on the eastern side of the forest. Did he somehow know where they were heading? None of them have tracking collars, and the camera traps alert at people, not wolves. Some fancy shmancy coding trick or somethin'' you did, Zip."


    Oh, no. Don''t you dare, Pyr. Leave the Pack alone.


    "We''ll have to figure that out. Read the entry we have on Pyr, Kristin. Hasn''t he done this before?"


    "Yeah, I believe so. Let me pull it up." Kristin exited out of the map and opened the list of entries on every offender they''d come across: a document with their name, who they were, what they were targeting, any past offenses, and any other information they had on them. Pyr''s was one of the longest entries they had.


    "Pyr Iskie. He is well-known as a trapper throughout Waverwell, but especially in the Pocket Forest or Silverlight Forest, depending on who you''re talking to. Most often, he targets the Silverlight Pack, and has been heard saying on numerous occasions that he wishes to take down Ten, the alpha male, but that he would settle for Madaket, the alpha female. He has said he would kill them, skin them, and then make a coat out of their fur."


    "Now, that''s just gross. Ew. Who the would want a fur coat?" Charlie wrinkled her nose.


    "Pyr." Zip didn''t look up as he turned down another one of the dirt roads that snaked through Silverlight Forest.


    "It would seem so," muttered Charlie.


    The Silverlight Pack had six members: Ten, Madaket, Red, Selene, Anastasia, and Beck, the only yearling pup to survive. The forest was big enough to sustain their small pack, but Ferris guessed the pack wouldn''t be able to get much bigger.


    "We caught and arrested him about a month and a half ago," Kristin continued. "We later discovered several snares¡ªwhich we removed, of course¡ªthat he had set. One had killed a rabbit but the others were still empty. He managed to escape the prison he was in about a week ago. Exactly how is still being worked out, but it would seem he''s still hellbent on hunting down the Si-." The tablet dinged, and Kristin sighed with a frown. "Oh, he''s now near Camera Trap 23. He just triggered it."


    "How far out are we, Zip?" Ferris knew they were getting close. His stomach twisted at the thought of Pyr reaching the wolves before they reached him. They all knew the forest well, Charlie perhaps best of all, but Silverlight Forest was big and the wolves could easily turn. Pyr could do the same, though Ferris knew the dogs would be able to hunt him down.


    "About thirty seconds. I... closing in on Camera Trap 23. He might''ve moved, so general location."


    Ferris nodded. "Yup. Everyone ready? We leave as soon as we''ve stopped. Ren, get the dogs and have them pick up on Pyr''s trail. Charlie, Zip, make sure the bikes are ready; I have a feeling we''re might need them. Kristin, you''re with me. Stay alert, be ready for anything. Let''s go."


    There was a feeling of calm that always washed over Ferris in the moments before he left the truck to start tracking down whoever was the latest to enter the Silverlight Forest in hopes of hunting down its flora and fauna. The world seemed a little sharper, and anything unnecessary faded into the background.


    Ferris''s fingers tightened around his gun. It was always an absolute last resort, only to be used in a life-or-death situation, and was always to be aimed at an arm or a leg¡ªsomewhere non-fatal. They wanted to stop the poachers, not kill them. They''d only had to use a gun twice, both times being in the arm, and it was never something they wanted to do.


    Zip stopped the truck, and everyone began to move. Ferris pulled his mask up over his nose, securing it behind his head, and opened the back doors. Ren unlatched the gates of the dogs'' kennels, and they released them from their stays. With a call, the three dogs jumped down, eyes locked onto Ren for the next command.


    "Pyr is still within Camera Trap 23''s sights." Kristin held the tablet in one hand and zoomed in on the video with the other. "Numerous weapons. At least two guns, maybe three. I mi-. Is that a bow?"


    "Is he gonna shoot some targets? I''m keeping it if he does have a bow. The arrows, too. I''ve always wanted to practice some archery." Charlie mimed shooting an arrow.


    "You''re not keeping anything, Charlie," Ferris said. "All weapons are confiscated and given to the Moonfall Precinct as evidence. Let''s go. Surround him. Kristin, come on. Charlie, Zip, you''re on bikes. Get them ready for the chase I''d bet Pyr is going to give us. Ren, you''ve got the dogs."


    xxxx


    Camera Trap 23 wasn''t very far from where Zip had stopped the truck. Ferris stayed low to the ground and kept his footsteps quiet. The dogs led the way, and Pyxis sniffed the air with Morpheus right behind her. Somnus''s tail wagged as he kept his attention on Ren, waiting for a command.


    Ren stopped beneath Camera Trap 23 and called the dogs to them. "Pyxis, find," they said. Pyxis put her nose to the ground.


    "She''ll track him?" Ferris asked as he made his way to Ren.


    "Yeah. She''s the best at tracking, and we''ll need the best to catch Pyr. Morpheus and Somnus can do it, but they''re not as good. Oh, wait. She''s found something."


    Pyxis looked up and let out a quick bark. "Kristin, let''s go." Pyxis kept her nose on the ground, tracking a trail invisible to Ferris, one that would lead to Pyr Iskie. Ferris trusted Ren''s training capabilities; they''d brought the three dogs to the highest level of ability. Morpheus and Somnus followed close behind Pyxis, with the rest of the group on their tails.


    A few deer broke into a bounding run, startled by the group''s quick movements, but the forest was relatively quiet.


    After a few minutes, Ren stopped, holding their hand out. Ferris almost stumbled into their arm but caught himself. He turned to them. "We''re close," was all Ren said. Pyxis''s body language had changed; all the dogs'' had. Their muscles were tensed, ears pricked.


    Morpheus scented the air, ears swiveling, until he let out a loud bark.


    Time seemed to slow down, and Ferris''s senses sharpened as the hair on the back of his neck stood upright.


    Morpheus lunged to the side, and Pyxis scrambled behind a tree. Somnus tackled Ren to the ground.


    A spray of bullets rained through the air, sending waves of bark flying as they careened into trees. Ferris flattened himself to the back of the nearest tree and peered out around the edge when the world fell quiet again. Ren was crouched at the base another tree with Kristin beside them, giving a hand motion to Morpheus, who immediately lunged off into the grass, slipping through it nearly silently. With another hand motion, Pyxis and Somnus froze in place, laying down.


    Ferris lifted his gun to his shoulder and scanned his surroundings. Where was Pyr?


    His answer came when a cry shattered through the forest. Morpheus''s muffled snarl followed. Ferris rushed forward, grip tight on his gun and the weight of the knives heavy where they were strapped to his body.


    "Get off me, you stupid, stupid dog!" Morpheus''s jaws were locked onto Pyr''s upper arm, fangs lodged in tight. A growl rumbled in his throat as he kept his grip and resisted Pyr''s attempts to break free, although the poacher somehow managed to get to his knees.


    Pyr didn''t look much different from how he did the last time Ferris saw him; his hair was still cut short, strands dark like oil. The same scar carved down his cheek, starting from just below the inside of his eye like a tear. Ferris had been unable to figure out how and where Pyr had gotten his clothes, but he knew from the material and design that they weren''t cheap; either Pyr was standing on loads of cash, or someone he knew was.


    "Ferris." His voice was cold. Somnus bounced on his paws, flashing his fangs.


    "Somnus, Morpheus, take down," Ren said. With a bark, Somnus took off. He slammed into Pyr''s other arm, jaws snapping shut like a trap. Pyr went back down, unable to stand under the combined weight of the two dogs, and Ferris pulled the handcuffs out from his pocket. Growls rumbled in the dogs'' throats as they held the straining Pyr down. His gun was a foot or so away, knocked out of his grip by the dogs.


    To Pyr''s credit, he had hardly made any sounds of pain, and Ferris knew how much the dogs'' bites could hurt; he''d been the one they''d bitten during some of their training sessions. But it didn''t change the fact that Pyr had killed the protected wildlife of Silverlight Forest and had entered again with the intent to slaughter once more.


    "I was simply walking. You can''t arrest me for walking in Pocket Forest!" The more common name for the forest, though Silverlight Forest was the official name.


    A flash of silver glinted from a pocket on the side of Pyr''s thigh. Ferris pulled out several snares, neatly coiled like snakes, along with cartridges of bullets in his back pocket and an array of knives from his coat.


    "You''ve killed numerous species. This part of Silverlight Forest is off-limits for the public. The signs posted along the fences make that more than clear. And you''re walking through the forest with several loaded weapons, an array of knives, and a dozen or so snares. I''d say you''re not just going for a hike, Pyr Iskie. We''re bringing you in, where you will be tried against a jury for escaping prison and attempted snaring and poaching of the protected species of Silverlight Forest, the Silverlight Pack included. You''re under arrest, Pyr Iskie." Ferris kept his voice level, though a mix of happiness and anger swirled within him: Pyr was one of the most notorious of the offenders, and while it brought him no small amount of joy to be arresting him, Ferris knew Pyr had recently escaped from prison. It could happen again.


    "Somnus, Morpheus, let go," he said. The dogs did so immediately and returned to Ren, who stood beside Kristin, both waiting to help Ferris bring Pyr to his feet.


    Ferris placed a knee on Pyr''s back and pulled his hands together. But before he could lock on the handcuffs, Pyr lurched up, twisting around, grabbing his gun, and driving the butt of it into Ferris''s temple. Stars explode in his eyes as Ferris fell back, and his vision darkened as his head swam. He heard twigs snap and voices talk, but he couldn''t make out what was said and he blacked out for a few moments.


    When he came to, he was flat on the ground and he blinked sleepily as he tried to get his mind working back up to speed. A hand pulled down his mask, and he sucked in a greedy breath.


    "Hey, Ferris," Kristin murmured. He reached out and brushed some of Ferris''s hair to the side to look at where he''d gotten hit. Ferris winced at the pain, though Kristin was touching him gingerly.


    "I-. Take it easy, Ferris. It seems Pyr hit you pretty hard." Ferris instantly regretted it when he sat up and almost vomited his dinner. The world rocked and spun and he nearly toppled over. Without Kristin holding him upright, he would''ve. He blinked a few times to clear his vision.


    "Pyr," Ferris said. "Where is he?"


    "Ren''s going after him, and Charlie and Zip are on their way." It took Ferris far too long to process what had been said, and he knew Kristin had noticed.


    "Go get Pyr. I''ll be fine."


    "I know we need to get him, but they are more than capable of catching him, and I''m pretty sure you''ve got a nasty concussion and am not going to leave you alone."


    "Ok," Ferris said. It was too many words to keep track of, and he felt like he could nap for a week.


    "Do you know what happened?"


    "I-... no. No, I don''t. It was Pyr, though. Nothing else it could have been. God, I feel sick." Ferris pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.


    "Just sit back and take some deep breaths. Charlie and Zip should be here momentarily. I''ll check you out when we''re back to the camp. How are you feeling?"


    Once more, it took Ferris longer than it should''ve to process what Kristin said and formulate a reply. "Sick, tired, sluggish. A killer headache. Like I am on a boat on the choppiest waters ever to have existed."


    "Ferriiiiiis!" He whirled around, grimacing and bracing a hand against the tree trunk as his head spun and his stomach threatened to expel his dinner.


    "Hi, Charlie," he gritted out before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the tree.


    "You ok?" Charlie skidded to a halt on her bike and and set a leg down to balance herself. The engine purred softly.


    "Pyr knocked him out for a few moments." Kristin answered for him. Ferris''s mind had gone fuzzy.


    "He''s dead." Charlie''s voice was cold, terrifyingly flat.


    "Don''t kill him," Ferris grumbled, hoping that the words were audible.


    "I meant that in a... metaphorical way." When Ferris cracked open his eyes and just watched her for a few moments, she added with a noncommittal shrug and smile: "Mostly."


    "Ren''s going after Pyr with the dogs. Where''s Zip?"


    "He''s not too far behind. Needed to lock up the truck and told me to get a head start. Which way did they go?"


    "That way." Kristin pointed. "Go track them down. It''s just going to be the two of you and the dogs. I''m going to need Zip to help me get Ferris back to the truck."


    "On it. Come here, Pyr. Oh, hey! That rhymes! Fancy me! Don''t argue with Kristin, Ferris. If he says he and Zip are bringing you back to the truck, they''re bringing you back to the truck. Don''t want you getting any more hurt. Besides, I''ll be sure to let Pyr know that he shouldn''t''ve done that to you. He''ll get the message, don''t you worry a hair on your head. He''s not gettin'' away! No wolfskin jackets for him. See ya!"


    A grin wide enough to split her cheeks spread across Charlie''s face. She revved the engine of her bike, and sped off in the direction Ren had gone in pursuit of Pyr, back tire throwing up a spray of dirt.


    "I know you want to help them catch Pyr, but you''re in no shape to do so, Ferris."


    "I know." He sighed.


    "When Zip gets here, we''ll help you get back to the truck. When we''re back at camp, I''ll take a better look at you. You''ll be back to normal soon enough."


    "I know." He sighed again.

 NYTE - Chapter 2 - Chad Malcolm - We Are Going to Change the World

    Chapter 2


    CHAD MALCOLM


    Chad Malcolm was, in one word, forgettable.


    If he hadn''t been introduced as Chad Malcolm and walked out wearing a signature suit, one would likely never realize it was him. One could see him again and again on a stage, and still not recognize him.


    He was someone who would be living in the background of someone else''s life. The guy who just ordered coffee, the guy who just sat down a few seats away on the train, the guy who just checked out at the store. Someone who was seen but never looked at twice.


    Soft features that seemed to almost belong to anyone. One said his eyes were forest green, one said dark brown, one guessed stormy grey, one thought light amber, and another asked if they were neon blue. Someone thought his hair was bright red, like fire, and another said black, like charcoal, while another yet said brown, like chestnut. Curly hair, straight hair, spiky hair. Tall, short, somewhere in the middle. Light skin, dark skin. Lots of freckles, a dusting on the bridge of his nose, no freckles. Every description could fit him because someone would swear on their life that it was him.


    People knew he wasn''t a kid, that he wasn''t young, but no one could really pin an age on him. He didn''t really seem to be any age in particular. He was an adult, was full-grown. There was no doubt about that, nor was there that he wasn''t super old, but no one could give a guess with even a hint of confidence.


    There just wasn''t anything about Chad that stood out.


    He was someone that one could be walking next to for blocks on blocks and he could slip away and they''d never know he was there, never know that they''d seen him.


    Chad''s wife, Darcy, was very similar. She, too, was forgettable. And she, too, would have someone swear on their life that just about any description was her. Red hair, brown, black, blonde. Skin a pale white, a deep bronze, or a dark brown.


    But, unlike Chad, there was one feature about Darcy that never changed: she always wore the same necklace. A chain of rubies, which glowed in the light and almost made it look like she wore a string of blood.


    However, there was nothing forgettable about the Malcolms'' lifestyle. Running Leviathan Inc., the most successful company in the history of Waverwell, gave them more money than they could possibly ever use. Though they certainly tried to put a dent in their wealth with their luxurious lifestyle.


    Clothing never worn more than once, the finest foods, the most expensive wines, sprawling estates, the most up-to-date appliances, personal chefs, butlers always at their beck-and-call.


    xxxx


    Chad adjusted his tie. "Honey, what are you going to say again?" He looked up when he heard his wife''s voice and met her gaze through the mirror that was on the wall opposite hers. Someone was doing her makeup and another was curling her hair.


    "I''m going to announce our findings on Arkreon. That it''s going to change the course of history for energy production. That it''s a game changer. I''ve got the speech here, written with Malibu''s help. Don''t worry, I''ve practiced."


    "I know. I was your audience last night. Remember?"


    "Oh, I remember."


    Chad smiled at his wife.


    "Ok, ok. That''s enough. I''m going to talk with Chad now. I''ll call you back when I need you again." Darcy stepped out of her chair, waving away her assistants with a perfectly manicured hand. She opened a drawer on her vanity, pulling out the chain of rubies she always wore and handed it to one of her assistants, who fastened it around her neck. Her baby blue dress cascaded toward the floor, showing only a little of her matching heels. The V-neck of it revealed the smooth skin of her collarbones and chest. Flowers had been stitched onto the bodice, and sequins glimmered beneath the overhead light.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "You want to talk with me?"


    "I want to see your speech."


    "Very well." Chad pulled the papers from the inside pocket of his suit and unfolded them, handing them to his wife. His suit was a dark blue that drew shadows close like a magnet. Apart from when he''d tried it on to get it fitted properly, he hadn''t seen or touched it before about an hour ago when he''d changed for the announcement.


    Darcy read over what he was going to say a few times. "Yes, yes, that will be wonderful. I can''t wait until we completely switch over to Arkreon. We''re going to go down in history." She dropped the papers onto the counter of her vanity and crossed over toward Chad.


    "Go down in history is right," he said, stepping forward and taking Darcy''s hands in his own.


    "Arkreon will change Waverwell forever. Our names will be written in the history books for generations to come. Everyone will know who we are. We''ll be just as famous as any of the Presidents of Waverwell, if not more."


    "I couldn''t have said it better myself." He smiled as Darcy straightened his tie and adjusted the collar of his shirt.


    He bent down for a kiss. "Shall we head out, my dear?"


    "I think we shall."


    "Let me grab my speech, and then we''ll be on our way."


    Chad tucked the speech back into the pocket of his suit, then laced his fingers with Darcy''s.


    xxxx


    When Chad and Darcy stepped out onto the stage, lights flashed as photos were snapped at a thousand a second. News crews operated cameras that followed their every move. Most belonged to Waverwell News or Did You Hear?!, the gossip magazine offshoot of Waverwell News.


    Chad adopted a look that was confident and distant, a slight smile on his face that was pleasant but revealed little. Darcy smiled and waved her fingers, but her expression was closed off too and Chad knew her well enough to know that her smile wasn''t entirely genuine either.


    Darcy stepped up to the lectern first. On the front lay Leviathan Inc.''s logo; the head of a teal serpent, neck arched in a graceful curve, with a flared frill on the back of its neck. She adjusted the microphone and then tapped it a few times to make sure it was working, which it was, of course. For something as trivial as a microphone, it was expected that it would work.


    "Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for gathering to listen, whether it''s here with us, at your homes, or wherever you may be watching. On behalf of everyone working at Leviathan Inc., I welcome you to this announcement. It is one we are honored to be able to make, and we are thrilled to be able to share with you." Darcy bowed her head, thanking everyone again for listening, and stepped off to the side.


    Chad stepped up to the microphone and reached into his suit pocket to pull out his speech. He placed his hands on the lectern and took a deep breath.


    "Thank you, Darcy," he said. "Hello, everyone. For the last seven years, it has been our absolute pleasure to provide so many of you with the energy that powers your homes and businesses. And it will be our pleasure to continue to do so. As Leviathan Inc. has continued to grow, we knew we needed to find a more efficient solution to the growing demand for energy. Something that could change the field of energy and flip what was possible upside down. And I am pleased to announce that, after five years of research, our efforts have yielded what we have named Arkreon."


    Chad paused as a round of applause rippled through the crowd.


    "Arkreon burns brighter and longer than coal, making it the future of energy production here. One pound of Arkreon can produce enough energy to power the average house for a week, the average business for three days, all of Corville for an hour. This means that we can do far more than what we could do with only coal or oil or solar power. This will completely change the landscape of energy production and what is possible. We have already begun the preliminary stages of switching to Arkreon, and we will continue to implement the next steps of the switch over the next few weeks. We anticipate providing energy solely off of Arkreon in the next one to two months."


    Another round of applause spread through the crowd.


    "Thank you for your time. My assistant, Malibu Hide, will answer any questions you have."


    Malibu strutted across the stage toward the lectern. She wore a skirt and a jacket and carried a binder. In it was everything they had decided to share with the public, though Chad knew she wouldn''t need to read it; she already knew what she could and couldn''t tell.


    "Hello, Chad."


    "Malibu."


    "Good afternoon, everyone." Malibu turned toward the crowd and pointed at someone who had their hand up. "Yes, what''s your name?"


    "Henry. I''m from Did You Hear?!."


    "Hello, Henry. What''s your question?"


    Chad slipped off the stage and returned to the dressing room for him and Darcy. After closing the door, he leaned against the wall as Darcy sat at her vanity, touching up her lipstick.


    "Well, I''d say that went well." Darcy turned around.


    "I''d say it did as well. We''ll have to make sure the switch goes smoothly. We''ll get back to Corville tomorrow morning, though I have a meeting in Cat''s Cradle tomorrow evening at the Night Owl." Chad rubbed his chin. The past few weeks had been exhausting, but he knew it would all pay off and be worth it.


    "They got it done?" Darcy stood up.


    "They said they did."


    "Good."


    Chad stepped toward his wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We are going to change the world," he said as he pressed his forehead against her hair.


    "We are going to change the world," she echoed as she wrapped her arms around his waist.


    They didn''t pull apart for several minutes.

 NYTE - Chapter 3 - Charlie Springs - Id Deliver You in a Box if I Could

    Chapter 3


    CHARLIE SPRINGS


    Charlie Springs was like a hive of bees.


    At least, that''s what she thought she was like. Always hopping from one thing to the next, never staying on any particular thing for too long unless it piqued her interest, careening through time at a million miles an hour. And if something annoyed her, people knew.


    Not that she particularly cared what people thought of her. She''d tried that. Didn''t work.


    But she didn''t like Pyr Iskie, and she was going to make sure it was crystal clear to Pyr exactly what she thought of him.


    And so she barreled down the path in the direction Kristin had pointed her in at a breakneck pace. The engine of her bike purred, and the wind pummeled her face, though her goggles kept her from squinting. She was glad she''d cut her hair after leaving for Moonfall and had kept it shorter; she knew if she hadn''t done that she''d have a nightmare of a time untangling the knots. One of those ''rebellious'' things I di-. She shook her head to put a firm stop to the rabbit hole she was about to go down. She couldn''t lose her focus, not now.


    "Here, Pyr-y, Pyr-y, Pyr-y," she sang under her breath, repeating his name again and again as it rhymed. Pyr-y, Pyr-y, Pyr-y, Pyr-y.


    Charlie heard them before she saw them: the dogs'' snarls, Pyr''s cries, Ren''s even voice, and someone''s shout. And when they came into view, she swerved to the side to come to a stop, sending a spray of dirt and pebbles flying. Pyr brought up an arm to shield his face, and Ren did too. Somnus scampered out of the way. Morpheus took that moment to latch onto Pyr''s arm and claw at him until he fell. When Pyr kneed Morpheus hard in the side, he just snarled and bit down harder.


    Ren bent down toward Pyxis, placing one of their hands on her fur. Their headphones were still securely lodged in their ears, held in place by the elastic headband they often wore. "Pyxis. Ferris, find."


    "Hello, Pyr," Charlie said with a smile as she stepped off of her bike. "Easy way or hard way?"


    "You''re not catching me. I already escaped. Now, call your stupid dog off of me."


    "I think not. You see, you knocked out one of my-." Charlie exhaled slowly, taking a deep breath to calm herself when Pyr snuck his free hand into his pocket and flung a knife at her, which whizzed by mere inches from her face. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she knew she had to keep a level head.


    "That was rude. Attempted murder is now gonna be added to your list of offenses."


    "I didn''t try to murder you. If I did, it wouldn''t be attempted murder. You''d be dead. I''m not going to do something halfway." Pyr bared his teeth.


    "The knife you just threw at me says otherwise."


    "Ren, let''s cuff him."


    "Charlie, watch out!"


    Pyr jabbed an elbow into Morpheus''s throat, causing the dog to choke. He wrestled his arm from Morpheus''s jaws, then fished out another knife that he tried to stab into the dog''s chest but since Morpheus had moved, it got lodged in his vest. Morpheus''s teeth snapped shut next to Pyr''s ear, and Somnus came and crashed into his back, fangs intended for his arm instead digging into his shoulder.


    Charlie rushed forward and shoved Pyr to the ground. She pressed her forearm into his back, pinning him down as he tried to rise. "Gotcha, Pyr."


    "Ren, little help?"


    "Yes." In another situation, Charlie would''ve snorted at Ren''s answer, maybe made some snarky comment. But right now the two of them had Pyr pinned to the ground. They couldn''t let him escape again.


    When Pyr''s hand started to sneak down, Charlie shifted and slammed a foot down on his fingers. "Nice try."


    "Morpheus, sit. Stay. Good." He had tried to come over and help, despite the knife sticking out from his side. But when Ren gave him the series of commands, he immediately sat.


    Pyr strained against Charlie''s hold, twisting his arms. Charlie curled her fingers.


    He lurched up and flipped them over when Charlie''s grip gave ever so slightly. "You don''t ''gotcha, Pyr'' anymore," he spat.


    Pyr scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping a few times as he made a break. "Somnus, take down." Ren pointed at Pyr, and he bolted, throwing himself into the air with a snarl and sending Pyr face first to the ground, jaws locking around his arm. Morpheus watched, a paw lifting, as if to give chase like Somnus had done, before settling back on the ground.


    When Charlie and Ren reached Pyr''s side, he smiled, looking over his shoulder, though it was more a baring of teeth. "You can''t catch me. I keep escaping."


    Charlie sighed, then knelt down. She wrapped her arm around Pyr''s neck. Somnus allowed her to bring Pyr to an awkward sitting position. She patted Pyr''s shoulder, then rubbed his hair with her free hand as she spoke. "Ah, Pyr. Pyr-y, Pyr-y, Pyr-y."


    "Aww, giving me a nickname. How sweet. You know, I thought you had a thing for that guy I just knocked out."


    "Don''t interrupt me."


    "Evading what I said. Interesting."


    "Don''t interrupt me," Charlie spat, tightening her grip on Pyr''s neck. "As I was saying, ah, Pyr. Whatever shall we do with you?"


    "Let me go."


    "Rhetorical question. You know, you''ve been pretty bad, haven''t you? You knocked out my friend and stabbed one of our dogs. Not to mention the wildlife you''ve killed, and that you were going to kill the wolves. And...," she paused, sucking on her teeth and drawing in a sharp breath. "I can''t let you do that. So, here''s what''s gonna happen. Ren is going to put on the handcuffs. The dog will release you when we tell him to. And then we''re going to bring you back to Moonfall so you can be charged, where you will be tried against a jury for escaping prison, snaring and poaching the protected wildlife of Silverlight Forest, or Pocket Forest, if you prefer that name, including the Silverlight Pack, as well as the assault of us. Attempted murder of me, as well. And, because the law says so and it''s rather enjoyable to say, you''re under arrest, Pyr Iskie. Feel free to keep your mouth shut, or chat up a storm. We''re all listening, though, so if you say anything you''d rather keep to yourself, that''s on you." Anger flared in her stomach as she listed everything Pyr would be charged for, but she bottled it up and shoved it to the side.


    Ren locked the handcuffs around Pyr''s wrists. "Somnus, let go," they said and the dog immediately released Pyr''s arm, and Charlie hauled him to his feet after pulling another knife from one of his pockets.


    "And, in case you were thinking of doing that oh-so-very-stupid thing of trying to attack me, threaten us into giving you the key, or using this little lock pick to free yourself, don''t." Charlie pulled a thin strip of metal from Pyr''s sleeve and held it up, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.


    "Naughty, naughty."


    Pyr grumbled, curling his lip, but didn''t respond.


    xxxx


    The walk back to where Zip had parked the truck was relatively quiet. Charlie couldn''t help but say that she was a little disappointed that Pyr hadn''t put up much of a fight and that he''d held his tongue. Only once did he make any effort to escape, though he''d barely made it two steps before Charlie grabbed onto his arm and yanked him back to the path.


    His jacket was stained red with drying blood. They would bring him to the Moonfall Precinct, and then he''d be transferred to the hospital, where he''d be treated for his wounds before being officially charged. Charlie wished she could see his trial and could tell him to enjoy his nice, long stay in prison, but she knew she couldn''t stay away from the SFPU for that long. Other offenders to catch, and all.


    Morpheus limped behind Ren, knife still sticking out to the side. Ren had tried to get a look at the wound, but since the blade had pierced through his vest, they couldn''t see it very well and had decided to let Kristin choose how best to care for the wound, being that he was the group''s doctor, appointed by the fact that he was the most knowledgeable out of anyone and was willing.


    Somnus watched Pyr like a hawk, walking by his side and eyes never straying from him. His muscles were tensed, ready to react the instant Pyr tried anything, though he never did.


    The truck was rumbling softly when they reached it. Zip stood outside the back door, already having pulled down the steps that were stored beneath the seat closest to the doors and set them on the ground. "Ferris and Kristin are... are in the front. Kristin-. Kristin will drive. Says F-Ferris''ll be fine till back. We''ll be... back here."


    "Sounds good," Ren replied.


    Charlie placed a hand on the middle of Pyr''s back and shoved him forward. He stumbled, shooting an icy glare over his shoulder, before catching himself when Charlie yanked back on the collar of his jacket. "In you go."


    She followed Pyr up the steps and pushed him into his seat. Ren locked in his handcuffs, while she strapped his seatbelt on tight. Somnus walked into his kennel when Ren opened the door and called him, though he sent one last look to Pyr.


    Once Pyr was securely restrained, Charlie opened the divider between the front cabin and the back of the truck and popped her head through. Kristin was fiddling with some of the knobs Zip had installed in the truck, while Ferris was curled up in the passenger seat, head resting on his fist. "How ya doin'', Ferris?"


    "Tired. I-. I can''t believe Pyr knocked me out." He stared blankly at the floor, and Charlie could almost see the energy seeping into the cushions.


    "You''re weak," Pyr spat. "It wasn''t even a challenge."


    "Shut it, Pyr, before I do it myself."


    "See? You need your girlfriend to defend you."


    "You''re lucky the Moonfall Precinct needs you in one piece. Otherwise, I''d happily deliver you in a box. Maybe even several, if I was feeling creative."


    "I''d be careful, Pyr," Ferris murmured. "When Charlie decides she''s going to do something, it''ll get done. If she decides to make your life miserable, you''d better brace yourself."


    "Is that what she did to you?"


    "No. But I know she''d do it if she decided to." Ferris shrugged, leaning his head against the window. He''s not wrong.


    "That''s enough talking, Pyr. Do I need to tape your mouth shut? Perhaps sew it shut? I''m sure I could find a needle and thread somewhere." Pyr narrowed his eyes but didn''t respond.


    Ren lifted Morpheus into their arms and helped him into the truck. Zip helped steady Morpheus as Ren walked up the steps into the truck. They placed Morpheus in his kennel but left the door open in case he needed anything. He laid down and rested his head on his paws. As per the usual, his expression gave away little.


    Ren and Zip took opposite seats at the very back of the truck, closest to the doors, providing a barrier between Pyr and the exit. Zip watched his fingers as he drummed them against his thigh and Ren kept their gaze locked onto Morpheus, but Charlie knew both were aware of everything going on around them.


    "Everyone buckled?" Kristin shifted the truck into drive.


    "Let''s go," Charlie said.


    "Camp and then Precinct?"


    "Yup."


    "You can''t arrest me," Pyr said as Kristin started off toward the camp. Charlie had shut the divider, and without any windows in the back of the truck, Pyr wouldn''t know where they were going. She knew Kristin would take a bit of a roundabout way in case Pyr tried to remember the turns they had made, though not as roundabout as the SFPU would''ve liked due to Ferris and Morpheus''s injuries.


    "We can and we did."


    "I''ll sue you."


    "Have fun with that."


    "You''ll go to jail." Charlie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Not gonna work, Pyr.


    "We won''t."


    "You''ll lose all of your money."


    "I don''t think so."


    "Your little... organization will get shut down." Pyr scowled at her, lip curling into something somewhere between smirk, sneer, and snarl.


    "I think not."


    "You''ll lose everything."


    "Do you guys hear that? There''s, like, this voice talking, I think. I feel like I heard something, but I don''t know what it is. Do you hear it?" Charlie rubbed her ears, frowning in mock confusion and looking around Pyr but never directly at him.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Ren stared at Charlie for a few moments before it clicked in their mind. "I''m not sure," was all they said in reply. Zip didn''t look up, but offered a soft hum.


    "I could''ve sworn I''d heard something."


    Charlie kept Pyr in her vision, just in case he tried to pull an escape act. But she denied him the satisfaction of the attention she knew he wanted.


    Kristin piloted the truck over a familiar bump, and soon turned the car sharply to the left. Ren and Charlie leaned into it, but Pyr was thrown to the side. "Bad driver you''ve got there," he growled.


    He''s a better driver than most. Ashley taught him.


    Charlie resisted the urge to give a snarky reply and held her tongue. She''d get more satisfaction without a reply than with, and she basked in it.


    Eventually, the truck went over a familiar series of rocks and Charlie knew they were at the camp. After a brief pause to open the gate, the only way in or out of the camp, the truck drove into the camp and turned around so it was facing the exit.


    Kristin pushed open the divider in the truck. "Alright. Zip, Ren, take Pyr to the Precinct. Charlie, help me get Ferris and Morpheus inside. We''ll take a look at them. Bring Somnus and Pyxis to their pens and get them settled. I''ll be inside with Ferris and Morpheus."


    "Yup."


    Ren tied a bandana around Pyr''s head before opening the doors to the truck. In ideal circumstances, they would''ve gone directly to the Moonfall Precinct, but since Ferris had been knocked out and Morpheus stabbed, it was more pressing to get them back so Kristin could better care for them.


    Few had been to their camp, and those that had were in the Waverwell government who were assisting in the protection of Silverlight Forest. They wanted to keep it that way. Ren stood at Pyr''s side, ready in case he made a move to escape. He leaned against his bindings but made no further attempts, and Charlie guessed it was more a testing of them as opposed to an actual effort to break free.


    After releasing Somnus and Pyxis and telling them to hop out, Charlie scooped Morpheus into her arms, careful not to jostle him too much or bump the knife in his side, and stepped out of the truck.


    She looked back at Pyr one last time, sending him her most withering glare when she couldn''t resist the urge.


    Anger burned in the depths of her gut, churning at the thought of if they''d arrived just a little later, if Pyr had made it just a little further into the forest, that he might''ve reached the wolves. The Silverlight Pack, the creatures who kept Silverlight Forest in balance. If removed, it was like taking out that crucial little cog that kept the machine going. The one that without it, the machine would cease to work as intended and would fall into disarray. Charlie didn''t want to know what that would look like, though she had some pretty good ideas.


    It was tempting to rough Pyr up, to lash out at him. He''d hurt both Ferris and Morpheus, had killed and attempted to kill numerous species in Silverlight Forest, had been intending to slaughter the Silverlight Pack. She knew that if asked, she would be believed over Pyr. She could say that he''d hit first, that it was in self-defense, and she would be believed, even if Pyr said she was lying.


    But her gut was telling her it wasn''t right. Even for someone as terrible as Pyr Iskie. They''d caught him, he was restrained, and he couldn''t hurt anyone right now. Pyr would be brought to a hospital to get treated for his wounds and make sure he wouldn''t die, and then he would be officially charged. Charlie knew the list would be long, but she didn''t feel an ounce of sympathy. Rather, she felt glad that the list would be so long. And with the severity of the charges he would likely get, she knew there was a good chance he would be locked away until he died.


    xxxx


    Charlie set Morpheus down on the couch. "Stay," she told him, though she doubted he would move.


    She walked back outside, to where Kristin was helping Ferris out of the truck, and brought Somnus and Pyxis to their pens. She made sure they had water and access to their runs if they desired before returning to the courtyard. Ferris leaned heavily on Kristin''s shoulder. He was unsteady on his feet, though he managed to stay upright. The wound on the side of his head had mostly stopped bleeding. "Can you hold the door?" Kristin jerked his head toward it, and Charlie nodded.


    "Yup." She pushed her back into the door, allowing Kristin to support Ferris and lead him over to the couch, where he sat down next to Morpheus.


    Ferris stared at the dog for several long moments as Kristin disappeared into his room to grab supplies.


    "What... what happened to Morpheus?" The dog lay on his side, knife that was still embedded in his vest facing up.


    "He got stabbed." Charlie figured it was probably better to be short and honest; easier for Ferris to follow.


    "Stabbed?" Ferris echoed.


    "Stabbed," she affirmed.


    "Stabbed?" Ferris repeated.


    "Stabbed." She nodded.


    "Morpheus got stabbed, and you''re worried about me... getting a bump on the head?"


    "You got knocked out."


    "Morpheus got stabbed."


    "You got knocked out, and Kristin will make sure Morpheus is fine."


    "Him... him first! I''ll be fine! I don''t want him to die."


    "He won''t die." Kristin walked out from the hallway where their bedrooms all were, bag of supplies in hand.


    "Priorities," Ferris muttered. "I''m fine. Treat him first."


    "You''re not fine; you got knocked out. I''m fairly certain you''ve got a concussion."


    "I''m fine. Treat Morpheus first. I won''t die, he might."


    "You''re not the one who was designated doctor in the group, so I''ll be the one to determine that."


    "Ooh, Kristin," Charlie said. "Pulling the Designated Doctor card. I like it." She grinned, ignoring how her stomach twisted.


    "Kristin... please. Morpheus first." Exhaustion hung over Ferris in a nearly visible blanket, but the pleading was clear across his face. Kristin hesitated, pausing for a few moments, before nodding.


    "Ok," he said. He knelt by Morpheus''s side and pulled on a pair of gloves.


    "I hope Ren isn''t too attached to the vest," Kristin said as he cut through the straps on Morpheus''s vest and took off most of it, leaving only the side with the knife stabbed through it.


    "I''m sure the knife in his side is far higher on their list of concerns right about now," Charlie said.


    "Yeah, I''d think so too. Eesh, sharp knife Pyr used."


    "Can we use it as a kitchen knife? Ours always seem to be kinda dull."


    "No way we''re using the knife of a criminal who stabbed our dog to cut veggies with. Uh, uh. Besides, it''ll probably be used in the case against Pyr." Kristin frowned as he examined where the knife had pierced through the vest.


    "How does it look?" Ferris had shifted so he was mostly laying down on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, an arm draped over his eyes.


    "Actually not too bad. The vest stopped the knife from going in too far. It seems to be a pretty shallow wound. Lucky you, Morpheus. I''m going to sedate him some though and give him some pain medication so it won''t feel too bad. Charlie, can you get my bag? I''m going to bring him to my room. Don''t need the couch getting all bloody. Ferris, don''t move. If you feel any different, call for me immediately. Seriously."


    "Ok, ok, ok. Will do. Can you turn off the lights? It''s so bright."


    "The family room doesn''t have lights; it''s all windows."


    Ferris frowned. "That sucks. Go help Morpheus."


    "Morpheus, just hold still. You''re doing awesome." The dog seemed to just melt into the couch as the sedative took effect, and his eyes closed partway, turning distant.


    Kristin''s room was the closest, the first in the hallway where the group''s rooms were. Charlie held open his door as he carried the limp Morpheus through and set him on the desk he''d converted into a table for when anyone ¡ªor the dogs¡ª got injured. A series of little bins lined a wall, filled with gauze, wraps, braces, needles, and an array of equipment he''d stocked up on through various trips to Moonfall and things he''d asked to be brought with the few massive shipments of supplies when the camp was being built.


    "Thanks, Charlie. You gonna be fine in here?" He put on a new pair of gloves.


    "I think so." She hung near the back of the room. Blood had never really bothered her, but there was something different about seeing it now, coating the knife''s blade and Morpheus''s vest and fur. It wasn''t the same.


    Kristin''s room was somehow shrinking. Rapidly. The edges of Charlie''s vision were turning fuzzy, and the blood that was turning Morpheus''s fur and Kristin''s gloves scarlet was quickly becoming all she could see.


    "Charlie, out. I don''t want you passing out on me. There''s one of me, and two who are injured. Don''t make it a third." It took a minute for Kristin''s words to register. She didn''t like them, but she found herself nodding.


    "Ok."


    "Out." He didn''t look at her and focused on cleaning out the wound on Morpheus''s side. The knife had been discarded off to the side.


    "Ok."


    "Make sure Ferris is doing fine. I''ve got this under control. Shouldn''t be too much longer."


    "Yeah, yeah, ok."


    Charlie took a moment to brace herself against the wall outside Kristin''s room until she wasn''t quite so dizzy. Why did that bother me so much? I''m not queasy over blood. Weird.


    "Hey, Dipper," she sang as she strolled into the living space of the house.


    "Morpheus... is he doing ok?"


    "Yeah, he''s fine. Kristin pulled the knife out of his side. I don''t think it was really all that deep."


    Neither of them spoke for several long moments, and Charlie flopped down on the couch. The silence that settled over them was comfortable.


    Ferris sighed. "He got me."


    "Hm?" Charlie blinked and turned to look at him.


    "Pyr got me. He got me. I... he got me."


    "He did, but we got him and he''ll be locked away hopefully for forever. How ya doin''?"


    "Tired. Got that report for Cynthia nearly complete. It''s due tomorrow morning so I''ll have to finish it tonight and send it off. God, my head is spinning." Ferris sat up but hunched over and placed his head in his hands.


    "Want me to finish it? It''s just editing and stuff, right?"


    "Yeah."


    "I can do that. You''re better with the fancy government talk, but I can edit."


    "I...," Ferris''s voice trailed off and he sighed again. "I might take you up on that."


    "Yeah, ''course. Want you doing better. You should take it easy; you just got knocked out."


    "Thanks, Charlie." The corner of Ferris''s mouth tugged at a smile and he glanced at her through his fingers that still supported his forehead. Charlie patted his shoulder.


    "You''re welcome, Dipper."


    "Springs." Their acknowledgement of each other.


    "Kristin! How''s Morpheus doing?" Charlie turned around when she heard Kristin walk out from his room.


    "He''ll be alright. He''s waking up, though is still pretty groggy. No work for him for the next week or so, and nothing too strenuous for several weeks."


    "Yeah, sounds like a good idea."


    "That''s why I said it." Kristin snickered at Charlie''s half-hearted glare. "Ferris, you''re up."


    "Alright," Ferris said. "What do I do?"


    Charlie watched from the couch as Kristin ran Ferris through a series of tests, first checking his balance and then memory and coordination. It was a bit odd for her to see Ferris stumble slightly since he often had the best balance out of the group, though she knew it wasn''t without reason. His memory and coordination were better, but he still struggled a bit.


    "I''d say you''ve got a bit of a concussion."


    "That''s unfortunate. Can I sit down now?"


    "Yes, of course." Charlie moved over and Ferris sat down next to her.


    "How long does it take to go away?"


    "Hmm. About a week, maybe a week and a half or so. You''ll have to take it easy and gradually get back to things. No Ultimate Ballgame, so you''ll have to sit the next match out. I heard Charlie volunteer to finish the report for Cynthia, so that''s good. But take it easy, Ferris."


    "No Ultimate Ballgame?"


    "No Ultimate Ballgame."


    "It''s ok, Dipper. I would''ve beat you anyways."


    Ultimate Ballgame was the game they played every week or two. There was a huge field about a five minute walk from their fence, and they''d put up a net to divide it into two. The rules were simple: hit the ball over the net in three hits or less, and the ball couldn''t touch the ground for more than five seconds. Everything else was free. Hit the ball with your arms, legs, head, anywhere was fair game. The field was massive, so most of the game was spent sprinting after the ball and hitting it as far as you possibly could to get it over the net. Charlie and Ferris were always on opposite teams and had a friendly rivalry going. They were about even in wins.


    "No, I don''t think so. I''ve won the last two."


    "I let you."


    "Sure you did." Ferris gave Charlie a flat look.


    "Uh, huh. I''m getting food. That pizza wasn''t enough."


    "Grab me something? Something light."


    "There''s a, uh, sandwich or something from yesterday. I''m taking the salad. Some sort of wrap. A lot of random stuff. Hopefully Ashley got some good stuff cuz we''re running a bit low."


    "Are there any... I don''t know. Like, crackers or something. I''m a bit hungry but nauseous at the same time." Charlie flipped open a few cupboards after skewering a bite of the salad.


    "There''s... whatever these are." She held up a box of crackers. She wasn''t sure how long they''d been opened but with how quickly they went through food knew they were edible.


    "Those''ll be fine."


    "Want anything, Kristin?"


    "I''m fine. That was my salad, you know."


    "You didn''t label it. If it''s not labeled, it''s up for grabs." She walked the crackers over to Ferris and sat down on the arm of the couch.


    "I know." Kristin frowned at his phone.


    "Ashley still not reply?"


    "No. I''ve called him like a dozen times or something. Texted him a bunch. Everything." He shut his phone off and shook it, as if hoping it would somehow yield a reply from his brother.


    "Did he say exactly where he was going? I could tell Ren and Zip to search after they''ve dropped Pyr off. Or I could go myself."


    "The usual food and supply run. It doesn''t take this long, even if he''s moving at a snail''s pace."


    "Perhaps he got really sidetracked?" Charlie tilted her head to the side.


    "I know you''re trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate it, but not right now."


    "Alright."


    "Maybe call him again," Ferris offered.


    "Yeah, worth a shot."


    "I guess I''ll give it another go." Kristin''s shoulders drooped.


    "Wonderful," Charlie said. She sidled up beside Kristin as he set his phone on the counter and tapped around, hitting Ashley''s name and then the call button.


    If there was one thing about Ashley, it was that he was always on time, whether it was meeting someone somewhere, being ready to go at a certain time, replying to a text message, or picking up a call. Out of the six of them, it was the most unusual for him not to reply, especially with how many times Kristin had reached out. Charlie had sent Ashley a quick message a few hours ago. She knew Ferris had called him and that Zip had sent a few messages, and she guessed Ren had as well.


    A round trip to and from Moonfall, with the time in the middle to pick up supplies, could be done in one day, although it was often easier to just stay overnight and return in the morning, as navigating the uneven, winding roads in Silverlight Forest at night was difficult.


    The phone rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. Ashley picked up quickly, always before the third ring and often just after the first. And then it went to voicemail, and Ashley''s voice rang out through the speakers: Hello, this is Ashley Baok''s voicemail. If you''re calling and it is urgent, please call my brother, Kristin. You should know his phone number. Otherwise, please leave a voicemail and I will get back to you as soon as possible! And if this is Charlie, please return my book to its location. You know where it is. Thank you, and have a nice rest of your day!


    "Hey, Ashley. It''s Kristin... again. We''re worried about you. Please call back. Or message. I don''t... please, just let us know you''re ok. If something''s going on, we''re all here to help. I don''t care what it is. We''ll figure it out. Please... We just want to make sure you''re ok. Call us back, message us," Kristin''s voice trembled, and he huffed a choked laugh, running a hand over his mouth. "Maybe those smoke signals you were reading about? I just want to make sure you''re ok."


    Tears rolled down Kristin''s cheeks, and he slowly crumpled to the floor. Charlie scooped up the phone before it could fall.


    "Hi, Ashley. It''s Charlie. Still Kristin''s phone. You gotta come home, alright? I''ll temporarily steal more of your books. Maybe I''ll rearrange them all? You''re leaving me far too much time to plan a prank. You gotta come home, alright? Just... come back. Anyways, bye. Come home though. See ya." Charlie hung up, and her usual carefree, joking tone had melted into something more desperate. Come on, Ashley. Please. Where are you?


    "I''m sorry, Kristin," Charlie murmured. She knelt beside Kristin and placed a hand on his shoulder.


    "What are you sorry about?" There was an edge to Kristin''s voice she hadn''t heard before.


    "I... I don''t know," she eventually admitted. "I don''t really know what to say, and it felt like it might be the right thing."


    "You don''t need to apologize if you haven''t done anything wrong."


    "I know... it''s just a habit." She huffed a humorless laugh.


    "Where is he, though? He should be back by now. He''s always back by lunch, and he never misses a message. Hell, it''s usually me who he has to ask if I got his message or phone call. Why hasn''t he replied?"


    "I''m not sure. Let me message Ren and Zip to drive around and see if they see the car in Moonfall. They should be finished with dropping off Pyr and going through all of that at the Precinct."


    Ferris flopped down heavily next to the two of them. "I just messaged them."


    "Did the screen bother you? You shouldn''t be doing anything to mentally taxing." Kristin narrowed his eyes.


    "It was fine."


    "I''m going to turn on the news," Kristin said, standing up. "I need something to distract me. I didn''t check it earlier, so let''s see what''s going on in Waverwell.


    Charlie grabbed her salad from the counter and walked back over to the couch, leaning against it from behind. The lettuce was a bit soggy from soaking in dressing for more than a day, but it still held some of the crunch Charlie always found so satisfying.


    The evening news played, jumping from the Waverwell News studio in the little town of Raconteur -a town pretty much dedicated to reporting, either on tv or in print, with a handful of houses and other businesses- to reporters in locations of interest. It started with updates on Leviathan Inc.''s Arkreon announcement, then to a crash in Cloverleaf, a robbery in Corville, and then a daring rescue in the Underdown.


    The stories were interesting, but none were able to hold Charlie''s attention and she was beginning to tune out. But then the Breaking News anthem rang through the speakers, cutting off where someone was describing what had happened in the Underdown, and the screen turned red with white writing.


    "Breaking news tonight out of Moonfall. I''m your host Shaheena Driscoll from Waverwell News." The screen cut to her, where she sat at a lengthy desk with the other host, Jaymes Haverfield, next to her. The weatherperson, Sarah Seaville, stood at the end.


    Shaheena continued: "Authorities have just reported that a body was found in the Pocket Forest."


    Charlie''s blood ran cold, and she nearly dropped her salad.

 NYTE - Chapter 4 - Cynthia Corville - Speculations are Simply That: Speculations

    Chapter 4


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    While Cynthia Corville loved being a part of Waverwell''s government, and was honored and thrilled to be able to be the President of Waverwell, she didn''t particularly love the meetings where it seemed destined that nothing get done. The ones where neither side of a debate were willing to compromise or find some way to work out whatever issue they were discussing. The ones where the meeting just dragged on and on and on with no resolution in sight.


    And, of course, she was sitting in one now.


    They were discussing the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, comprised of Ferris Dipper, Charlie Springs, Kristin and Ashley Baok, Zip Furr, and Ren. She knew Ren was their chosen name, as opposed to their legal name, but since they''d requested that they go by only Ren, that was what was written on all documents, except for where it was required that their legal name be printed.


    The Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, and keeping Silverlight Forest safe, was something Cynthia had grown passionate about. She had grown up in Corville and belonged to the family that had a massive part in crafting Waverwell. Nearly everyone in her family held some position in government. Cynthia hadn''t had much exposure to the world outside the gilded buildings of Corville, much less the relatively untouched land comprising Silverlight Forest.


    But when she''d gotten the opportunity to travel around Waverwell, she''d chosen places she knew nothing about, including a few days in Silverlight Forest. And those few days took her breath away and sparked a love for the forest. When she ran for President of Waverwell, she vowed she would protect those spaces in Waverwell, those ones that still held their original natural beauty, and keep those with pockets bogged down with money from taking and taking and taking.


    "While I think the work done by the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit might look good on paper, I do not believe it is worth the time and money that has been invested into it. Taxpayer dollars are being funneled into their group, and that money needs to be used for worthy causes, causes that will better Waverwell, the very ideal that we signed up for and vowed to uphold when we ran for election. The Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, while arguably a nice thing to think about, will not better Waverwell." Cynthia took a sip of water as Harold Morris spoke. While she didn''t agree with him in the slightest that Silverlight Forest would do a better job at ''bettering Waverwell'' if it wasn''t protected, she listened to him and weighed his words.


    Harold wore a grey suit that almost looked brown and a striped tie, and his thinning hair was brushed back.


    "If I may, Harold." Now it was Gabriella Torres''s turn to speak. She wore a flowing purple dress and matching high heels. Her brown hair had been meticulously worked upon until it cascaded down her back in graceful curls. Grey eyeshadow lined her sable eyes, and her lips had been done in a delicate pink. Her outfit and look was different from Harold''s in every way.


    Harold nodded in reply to Gabriella''s statement.


    "I don''t believe removing the protections from Silverlight Forest would be the right decision to make here," Gabriella continued. Cynthia had to agree with her. "We can absolutely hold our promise to better Waverwell while continuing to protect Silverlight Forest and its inhabitants, both plant and animal alike. I believe that not protecting Silverlight Forest would be not upholding the promise I made, that we all made, to the citizens of Waverwell that we would better our country. Silverlight Forest is a unique feature of Waverwell, one not found anywhere else in our country. Using taxpayer dollars to fund the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit and to help keep the forest safe is, in my mind, a very worthy cause." Gabriella''s voice, while respectful, held a twinge of the bite that would weave its way in when she felt she was defending something crucial.


    "While I''m not debating the fact that the inhabitants of Silverlight Forest are pretty to look at, they can find a new home, and the jobs that would be created by developing the land cannot be overlooked." Harold moved his hands as he spoke, enunciating every word. "And scientists believe there is oil beneath the forest. Think of what that could do for Waverwell."


    "Scientists believe there is oil beneath the forest. Do they know it''s actually there?" Cynthia scribbled down a few notes, the highlights of what had been said so far. Lots of repeats. Same thing, different words.


    "And what would be the cost?" Gabriella asked. "What of the destruction that would be wreaked on Silverlight Forest? The loss of that landmark feature of Waverwell? The one where thousands would go hiking on the portion that is available for public access? What of the smoke and smog created by the pollution from burning the oil? What of the health problems caused directly from burning the oil that is allegedly lying beneath Silverlight Forest?"


    Now it was Linda Machowski''s turn to pipe up. She rarely spoke, instead sitting at one of the corners of the table, and propping her pad of paper on her lap and nibbling on the end of her pen. "I agree with you, Cynthia. You''re right that scientists only believe that there are oil reserves beneath Silverlight Forest. But it would create jobs. To clear the forest, to drill for the oil, to build on the land. The money from the oil would boost the economy. New housing space would be created, as would new businesses. It''s like a giant bag of money right there."


    "I agree with you, Linda," said Harold.


    "But can a building ever replace the serene feeling of walking through trees? Of sharing a private moment in time with a deer? Of roasting marshmallows with friends over a fire beneath the moon and stars?"


    "Gabriella," Cynthia said, leaning over. "I do not believe they''ll listen."


    "Perhaps we could come to some form of agreement as to what should be done with the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?" Harold''s eyes scanned over the ten people sitting around the table.


    "I believe we can," said Gabriella.


    "My opinion is that we are giving too much money to the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit."


    "Why is that?" Cynthia took a sip of water.


    "Because we could be developing the land, getting an absolute answer on whether or not there is oil ¡ªwhich I firmly believe there is ¡ª and we could be bolstering the economy through the businesses and jobs created by developing the land Silverlight Forest currently resides upon. And another... bonus, for lack of a better word, is that we wouldn''t have just one road cutting through the land: we''d have many, leading to far less time traveling through Waverwell. Myway Highway, while great and a crucial road, is still a two-lane road, leading most to use the train or take the much longer route through Corville, Dal, the Underland, the Warren, and then up through the tunnel to Cloverfield."


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Harold, I was there when we were discussing Myway Highway. We decided that a two-lane road would work, and that it didn''t need to be any bigger. And since its completion three years ago, I haven''t heard a single complaint. Apart from the occasional traffic, there aren''t any problems with it. Most people do, in fact, take the train or drive the longer route through the cities, as opposed to the forest. I''m all for boosting the economy, but I think we first need a definite answer on whether or not there actually is oil beneath Silverlight Forest before we can come to a decision on whether or not to develop the land."


    Delta Bass. He was the youngest out of everyone in the room, and one of the youngest in the Waverwell government. He had looks that had many fawning over his every move, resulting in one of the highest follower counts on Muse, the popular social media website. Tawny air messed up to perfection, sharp features, and impeccably dressed in business casual. An expensive T-shirt underneath a suit jacket, or, when he wore them, a button down with the top few undone. He often looked like he had just rolled out of bed and was on his way to a modeling photoshoot.


    "Delta, we have not decided anything when it comes to Silverlight Forest, and we were actually discussing the yearly funding we send to the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, not whether or not we should be developing the forest. And please, remove your shoes from the table. It''s not professional." Gabriella laced her fingers together, and her nails clicking on the table.


    "Of course, Gabby." Delta swung his legs down.


    "It''s Gabriella."


    "Same thing."


    "It is not."


    "Alright, alright. Pretty close. My bad." Delta held up his hands, smiling.


    "No, it''s not ''pretty close'', as you say. It''s either right or wrong. There is no ''pretty close'' when it comes to getting a person''s name right. Gabby is not the same as Gabriella. Therefore, it is wrong."


    "Come on. It was a mistake. Get over it."


    "I have always said my name was Gabriella. I do not appreciate it when people call me Gabby, or anything other than Gabriella. I expect people to call me Gabriella. I have told you as such numerous times, and you have had ample time to make sure you get it right, which you have clearly not put in the time to do."


    "It was one time."


    "It was not. It has been many times that you have called me Gabby, despite me telling you not to call me that and that my name is Gabriella. Call me Gabriella. I know you call many people by their chosen names, and I expect the same for myself."


    "Gabby''s short and it''s a cute nickname." Delta shrugged.


    "I do not care what you think. I do not like Gabby as a nickname for myself. My name is Gabriella, and I expect you to call me Gabriella."


    Delta rolled his eyes. "You know, you''re far less cute when you''re angry."


    "Cute is never what I was trying to be. You calling me by my name is an expectation that is completely reasonable, and it is what I expect, both of you and everyone else." Gabriella narrowed her eyes. She straightened her back and crossed her arms over her chest.


    Cynthia still wasn''t quite sure how Delta wound up in the Waverwell government, but she knew his family had money. Boatloads of cash laying around.


    When Delta didn''t reply, Gabriella removed her gaze from him and scanned the table. "Now that that has been settled, any questions as to what I expect to be called?"


    No one replied, and Gabriella nodded her head. "Very well."


    Cynthia knew that it wasn''t Delta''s first time messing up Gabriella''s name. It had happened again and again, but seemingly only with Gabriella and a few other women working in the Waverwell government, though there could be more she wasn''t aware of. In the past, Delta had called Cynthia ''Cindy'', though that stopped a while after she''d started going out with her now-wife Charlotte Waver.


    "Gabriella is right: we are discussing the yearly funding we send to the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, not if we were going to develop Silverlight Forest. Ferris Dipper sent in the yearly report. You all have a copy in front of you." Cynthia gestured to the folder everyone had. "It outlines the work the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit has done over the past year in the forest, who they have arrested and for what, the populations of species and how it correlates to numbers from before they started about a year ago, as well as numbers from years prior, and the work that has been done at the camp." Cynthia flipped through the report sent by the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, skimming through it once more as she spoke, even though she''d read it several times the night before.


    Harold thumbed through the pages before closing the folder with a sigh. "They''ve been doing this for about a year," he said after a few moments of gathering his thoughts.


    "They have," Cynthia confirmed.


    "The populations of the species have gone up."


    "They have."


    "Is the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit really necessary? The populations have gone up, which is what the intent was."


    "The intent of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit is to protect Silverlight Forest. While the populations of species residing in the forest have gone up, which is great, the numbers of poachers they arrested is extremely high, along with the numbers of traps and snares they removed. And there is the note added that says those are the poachers, traps, and snares they know of ¡ª there very well could be more."


    Cynthia opened her mouth to reply to Gabriella, but before she could there was a knock on the door of the meeting chamber. Everyone looked up toward the door. "Yes?" Cynthia said.


    "E-excuse me, Mrs. President." Someone Cynthia didn''t recognize crept into the room, cheeks flaming and shoulders hunched. In a trembling hand, they clenched a folder. She guessed they were an intern or someone who was just starting their work in the Waverwell government.


    "Yes? What is it?" Cynthia set her pen down and gave the person her full attention. She could feel everyone else''s eyes on the two of them.


    "This just came in. It''s all over the news. Th-there was a murder."


    "A murder?" She had heard about murders, and files frequently crossed her desk, but she had never had anyone interrupt during a meeting to inform her of one.


    "Y-yes, a murder."


    "What''s known about it so far?" Cynthia''s mind was already racing. The steps she''d take, that everyone would make. Assistance allocated for the investigation. Statements to be made, words carefully crafted. Perhaps a post made by her or an assistant on her Presidential Muse account.


    "Not m-much. Th-they''re s-saying it''s one of the most brutal in Waverwell history."


    "Most brutal?" Cynthia''s eyebrows raised. No wonder the meeting had been interrupted.


    She opened the folder. It was very thin, only a few pages with the most basic of information.


    "What''s known about it?" She asked as she flipped through it.


    "The body was, uh, recently discovered. Authorities a-are still completing the preliminary investigation. The body hasn''t been i-identified yet. There''s c-coverage on Waverwell News right now. It''s in the Breaking News segment."


    "It was in Silverlight Forest?"


    "Yes."


    "Where in Silverlight Forest?" Did any of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit see anything? Were they witnesses to the murder? Did they see anything in the days prior? If they were witnesses, Cynthia was certain they would''ve said something, but she had to look at every angle. Or perhaps they were somehow made to stay silent.


    "A little ways off Myway Highway. About... halfway through the forest."


    "A brutal murder was committed in the Silverlight Forest a little ways off of Myway Highway, and the body was just discovered?"


    "Yes."


    "Let the Moonfall Precinct know we''ll help in any way possible. Any resources they need are theirs. We can shut down Myway Highway for as long as necessary. Traffic can be redirected through Dal, the Underland, and up to the Warren, following, approximately, the train''s route."


    Cynthia closed her packet and stared down everyone who was at the table, a sense of calm and duty settling over her. "No information that has not been broadcast on Waverwell News is given to the public. Not until we know more and have all of the facts.


    "Speculations are simply that: speculations.


    "We need to contact the Moonfall Precinct and the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. Whoever committed this murder will be held accountable for their actions."

 NYTE - Chapter 5 - Kristin Baok - Weve Got Work to Do

    Reiterating the trigger warning:


    TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter deals with death and a dead body. No one gets killed, but it does get heavy into grief. It''s for almost the entire chapter, and there is a summary at the end


    Chapter 5


    KRISTIN BAOK


    Kristin Baok didn''t watch the news all that much. Being in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit required that he was hyper aware of everything going on around in Waverwell ¡ªespecially in relation to Silverlight Forest¡ª but he rarely sat down and let the news play. It was something about scrolling through news articles that piqued his interest far more than just passively sitting on the couch and observing.


    But right now Kristin needed a distraction. Something. Anything. He needed his mind off the fact that Ashley still hadn''t responded to his numerous calls and texts.


    Kristin was at the point that he was seriously debating creating a Muse account to message Ashley on that, since he was the only one out of anyone in the SFPU with an account, though Kristin knew he hadn''t logged on in a while. He''d opened the Muse app on his phone several times, hovering on the create a username and password page for a few minutes before exiting and locking his phone.


    Waverwell News went through some of the events that had happened, interspersing the darker stories with popular videos trending to lighten it up. Sarah Seaville, the weatherperson, forecast the weather for the next week, saying that there was likely to be a bit of rain later on but that it would mostly be pretty mild.


    Charlie crunched on her salad, and Kristin knew she was beginning to tune out since she spent more time moving her food around and carefully selecting which pieces of lettuce to pair with which toppings than the screen and what the reporters were saying.


    And Kristin was as well. His mind began to wander.


    He was just about to go check on Morpheus, who was still laying in his room as the sedatives wore off.


    But then the Breaking News anthem played, cutting off the news about a rescue in the Underland. "Breaking news tonight out of Moonfall. I''m your host Shaheena Driscoll from Waverwell News." Shaheena stared straight at the camera as she straightened out some papers on the lengthy desk she and the other host, Jaymes Haverfield, sat at. Sarah Seaville stood at the end.


    "Authorities have just reported that a body was found in the Pocket Forest-."


    Kristin snapped out a hand and paused the tv, looking at Charlie and Ferris. "Wait. That''s here. That''s us."


    "It... it is here." Charlie looked stunned, a hint of confusion written across her face.


    "That happened here, on the land we protect."


    "I don''t know," she said. "I don''t know. We''ll have to figure out what happened, work with authorities, maybe do a few reports or something, and make sure it sure as hell doesn''t happen again." She shoveled a massive bite of salad into her mouth as her lip curled.


    Kristin pressed play.


    "At this time, little is known about the body and what happened, but authorities believe it to be one of the most brutal murders in Waverwell history," Shaheena continued. "The body was found along Myway Highway earlier today. Authorities say that the murder likely occurred sometime in the night before. If you, or someone you know, has any information about what happened, please visit our website, or contact the Moonfall Precinct. The number is on your screen below." A number appeared.


    The screen cut to a video of Myway Highway, where people were bustling about. Cars had blocked off the road, and flashing lights lit up the trees. Tents and tables had been set up, but what was on them wasn''t clear.


    "Myway Highway has been shut down as investigators search through the scene for evidence and clues as they piece together what happened. The length of time Myway Highway will be shut down is unknown, but we will keep you updated as this story unfolds. In the meantime, authorities are having people use the roads following the Waverwell Trainline as the detour and encourage everyone to allow for extra time and a longer drive while Myway Highway is shut down."


    "We could drive out there," Ferris murmured. "See what they''re doing, what''s going on."


    "You need to stay here and rest, and I doubt they would let us anywhere near the scene. We''re the SFPU, but we have no authority over something like a murder. Our authority is over arresting those who are going to poach or otherwise disrupt the balance of Silverlight Forest, not investigating a murder." Kristin''s heart clenched, but he knew what he said was true: they wouldn''t be able to do anything.


    "We could sneak in there, see it from a distance. I know the forest," Charlie said.


    "That will get us arrested."


    "Maybe we''ll be able to find something."


    "We''re not investigators in the slightest."


    "We can track through the forest. We know it better than anyone. If there''s a trail, we''ll find it. The dogs can too."


    "I know you want to help, Charlie, but we know nothing about this murder other than what Shaheena just said."


    "I know that. I''m not an idiot, Kristin."


    "I never said you were."


    "But, like, we should be doing somethin'', ya know? This was on our land, our forest that we protect. We came up with that pact when we first started like a year ago: protect the Silverlight Forest, from anything and everything that would wish it harm. A murder sure as hell falls under that category."


    "We can call the Moonfall Precinct and see if there''s anything we can do to help, but I''m not sure how much else we would be able to do. We track down offenders, not murderers."


    "They murder animals. They''re all murderers."


    "Are my eyes going crazy... or are those red shoes?" Ferris ran a palm over his face, blinking heavily, and gestured with a clumsy hand at the tv.


    "Where?"


    "Rewind like two seconds. Top left corner coming from the forest." Kristin complied and squinted at the screen. Sure enough, someone walked out of the forest, a bag in their hands. Bright red sneakers were contained within it. Kristin jabbed at the remote to pause it with more force than was necessary.


    Red shoes. That didn''t mean anything. There were many, many, many pairs of red shoes in Waverwell. Many pairs of red sneakers, too. It didn''t mean anything. It didn''t.


    But doubt was trickling in his mind. Fear was taking hold of his chest. Worry was chewing at his insides. Panic was squeezing his throat.


    "There are many red shoes," Kristin whispered, and his voice cracked. "Many."


    "What''s goin'' on?" Charlie turned to face him, munching on another bite of salad.


    "Well... Ashley was wearing red sneakers when he left yesterday."


    "Red shoes yesterday, red shoes there... Oh, I see. I don''t know what his look like so I can''t say whether they look like his or not."


    "Can you tell if the laces have been tied in daisy chains?" It felt like a band was cinched around his ribcage, tightening with every exhale until he could''ve sworn he was sucking in air through a straw.


    Charlie dropped her salad on the coffee table and moved to stand a few inches from the tv. She squinted. "No, sorry. It''s pretty grainy."


    Before Kristin could tell her that it was alright, the front door opened and Ren and Zip walked through. Ren took out their headphones and slipped them into a pocket.


    "I-I... Precinct- they went. Lots of cars. What-what''s going on?" Zip''s hands flapped against his thighs. His eyes darted across the room, never lingering on anything for too long.


    "There''s been a murder in Silverlight Forest. Apparently one of quote: ''the most brutal in Waverwell history'' and it''s on the land we protect." Charlie gave air quotes, and her eyes flared with anger. "God, I need to do something. We should be out there, helping the Moonfall Precinct, figuring out who the hell did that. Just give me five minutes with who... not who. The monster that did this. God, I can''t believe it. We should''ve known they were there, stopped them. Let the dogs chew on them for-." Charlie tugged at her hair, stalking around the coffee table.


    "Charlie," Ferris said, standing up and gently removing Charlie''s fingers. "No one''s going to argue with you, but stewing in your anger won''t change anything. And Kristin is right: we have no authority over any part of their investigation. We''re just like anyone else with that. We''ll help in any way we can, but we can''t just show up to the crime scene. Come on, sit down and finish your salad. We can give the Moonfall Precinct a call and ask them if there''s anything we can do."


    "Fine." Charlie scooped up her salad and held her fork in her fist, stabbing a piece of lettuce with far more force than was necessary.


    "Would it be illegal to look at the cameras? Maybe something got picked up on there?" Ren shrugged off their jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door.


    "If there''s footage, I''m sure the Moonfall Precinct would want it. Zip, can you get those on a tape or something?"


    "I... yeah. But th-there isn''t anything. If anyone set them off... they-they would''ve alerted us."


    "Could it have failed to alert you?" Charlie shoveled another bite into her mouth. Her knuckles were white around her fork.


    "No." Irritation flickered across Zip''s expression but his voice was the usual, even level it never strayed from, never betraying anything.


    Ferris''s phone rang before Kristin could say that perhaps they could just take a look, that it would give them something to do. Ferris pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Moonfall Precinct, he mouthed before answering it. Time seemed to slow.


    "Hello. This is Ferris Dipper."


    "No, Ashley is not here." Ferris paused, listening to whoever was talking on the other end. His face went still, and he glanced over at Kristin. Come on, tell me. What are they saying? Kristin knew Ferris would tell them, but the desire ¡ªthe need¡ª to know ate away at him. If they had information on Ashley, he needed it. His broth-... he didn''t let himself go down whatever rabbit hole his mind had been about to dip into. Kristin waved his hand, telling Ferris to hurry up and tell them, but he only held up a finger. Just a moment, the gesture said, and Kristin wanted to scream.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "I see. Yes, he''s here."


    "We''ll be there in fifteen or twenty minutes. Thanks."


    Ferris hung up the phone.


    "We need to go to the Moonfall Precinct now. They believe they''ve found Ashley." Ferris sprang to his feet, stumbling a step to the side but catching himself quickly.


    "I-I... I''ll get the-the car." Zip slipped out of the house.


    "I''ll help." Charlie dropped her salad on the coffee table once again and sprinted after Zip. The door slammed shut behind her.


    "How''s Morpheus doing? Does one of us need to stay behind?" Ren turned around and drummed their fingers on the counter.


    "I-...," Kristin trailed off. In his haze of panic over the murder in Silverlight Forest, he''d forgotten about the dog in his room. Guilt swirled in his gut. "He''ll probably be fine."


    "Alright. I''ll put him in his pen."


    "He''s in my room. He''s still groggy but he''s awake and will be fine. He just needs some rest."


    "Ok. I''ll be at the car in a minute."


    xxxx


    No one talked during the ride to the Moonfall Precinct. The silence was a deafening blanket that clung to every inch of the car. It was one of the two they used for trips into town and excursions that didn''t require the extra space and power necessary for tracking down poachers and offenders. Ashley had the other, the one that was bigger, and so they''d all crammed into the smallest of their cars. No one complained.


    Zip drove and Kristin rode shotgun. Ren took one of the window seats and Ferris took the other, leaving Charlie in the middle. She leaned closer to Ferris, giving Ren the space Kristin knew they wanted. He also would be willing to bet money that both Charlie and Ferris didn''t mind.


    The drive blurred together, and Kristin could feel the anxiety gnawing at his insides. His mind raced, what-ifs coursing through his head like a hurricane, battering his brain until his head hurt.


    They''d found Ashley, but what does that mean? If they''d found Ashley, would''t he have called us already? If his phone died, wouldn''t he have just borrowed someone else''s?


    Perhaps he was hurt. Perhaps he''d gotten injured somehow, and he was at the Moonfall Precinct. Why he was at the Precinct and not a hospital, Kristin didn''t know, but he was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation.


    Whatever the reason was, Kristin was sure it would work out. That they''d see Ashley, and his twin would explain everything. They would hug it out like they''d always done. Any problem they''d ever had, they''d sit down, take several deep breaths, talk, and then give each other a big hug. No matter what, they''d always solve any dispute between each other with a hug. Growing up in Cat''s Cradle hadn''t been easy, but a hug had always solved anything. This time wouldn''t be any different.


    xxxx


    By the time they reached Moonfall, and then the Moonfall Precinct, Kristin was nearly shaking.


    He could barely hear what was said. After asking if it was ok, Charlie had placed her hand on his forearm and led him into the Moonfall Precinct. Ferris had done the talking, and Ren and Zip stood by him, offering their silent support. Blood roared in his ears, and he felt like he was floating.


    When they were led through hallways toward the back of the Precinct, time seemed to be swimming through sludge. Kristin was looking at the walls, at the door, at the person leading them, but it was as if he couldn''t see. He couldn''t make sense of, fully process, what it was he was seeing.


    The person stopped by a door, offering him a sympathetic smile that he didn''t understand, before opening it and allowing them to enter first.


    "Who here is Kristin Baok?" They asked.


    "M-me," he managed to choke out after a long minute.


    "We believe we found your brother."


    It took him another minute or two to be able to process what the person said, and then it was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. He started to be able to really see where he was, his surroundings.


    The room he was in was blindingly clean, and one of the walls was silver, with squares evenly spaced across it, three high and four wide. Little tags were arranged next to each square, but Kristin was too far away to be able to read them. Two gurneys were pressed up against the opposite wall.


    Kristin stared at the squares, the twelve of them. He slowly moved his gaze to the person''s. Their expression softened. "I believe we found your brother," they repeated.


    "Wh-where is he?" His voice sounded like it was miles away.


    "I''m sorry." They opened one of the squares. Second from the right on the middle row.


    Kristin''s legs gave out, and only Charlie''s quick reflexes kept him from crashing to the ground.


    "No."


    He sagged against Charlie. She drew in a shaky breath. "I-I... He...," her voice trailed off, and she didn''t finish her sentence.


    "No," Kristin repeated.


    "I''m sorry." The person echoed their previous statement.


    Kristin looked up, and he saw that they''d pulled out a body from the containers in the wall. It was covered in a white sheet, and two feet poked out from the end of it. Kristin recognized them immediately.


    He wore a copy of his own.


    "No," he said once more as tears pooled in his eyes. His hands covered his mouth as a whimper slipped from his throat. Charlie''s grip on him tightened. "No, no, no, no, NO."


    Zip''s fingertips brushed his shoulder. He glanced back, and Zip was staring at the body, chewing on a knuckle.


    Kristin took a few steps forward, breaking away from Charlie, who let him go. The person had retreated to a corner of the room, and he barely noticed them.


    He drew to a stop beside the body''s side. His eyes trailed across, from the feet he had patched up from cuts and scrapes when growing up, to hands he''d held, to a face he shared an identical copy of, one he saw every day in the mirror. Now that he was closer, he could read the little tag on the wall: ASHLEY BAOK. Someone twisted the knife in his gut, and his legs nearly gave out. His fingers curled onto the side of the metal tray.


    Ashley''s eyes were closed. He looked peaceful. Like he was sound asleep in a pleasant dream. Kristin hoped he was.


    Kristin choked on a breath, jaw quivering as tears ran down his cheeks. "A-A-Ashley," he sobbed, shaky hands reaching out to grab onto that of his twin. But his umber skin was cold, motionless. His fingers didn''t curl in reaction. His eyes remained closed, face lax.


    It''s not Ashley.


    Horror clawed its way through Kristin and bile rose in his throat. Whoever ¡ªwhatever¡ª he was seeing looked like his brother. Looked exactly like him. But it wasn''t him, wasn''t his brother.


    "Ashley." Where did you go?


    "Is this Ashley Baok?" Kristin wanted to scream at the person.


    "Yes." No.


    Ashley Baok would be laughing with the group, helping out around camp, assisting in capturing those who wished harm upon Silverlight Forest and its inhabitants.


    Not laying here motionless. Cold. Lifeless. Empty.


    This was Ashley Baok, but it wasn''t him.


    As soon as the yes was out of Kristin''s mouth, he could feel his heart get ripped out of his chest, yanked free from his body and stomped into the ground.


    His legs gave out, and his knees slammed into the ground, though he couldn''t feel the pain. All he could feel was the hurricane of loss violently whirling around in his body. A storm of emotion he couldn''t begin to process because the only thing he could think was no.


    It had to be a dream. It had to. There was no other explanation. No, it was a dream. A nightmare. He would wake up. He had to. There was nothing else it could be.


    There was no way the universe was that cruel. It wasn''t that mean, that heartless.


    He wrapped his arms around himself, imagining that it wasn''t his arms, but rather his twin''s. Ashley''s. Imagining that it was in Cat''s Cradle, after a cold night when he''d been crying and Ashley had wrapped him up in his arms and told him it would be ok. Or when Ashley had been crying and he''d done the same for him. It''ll be ok. It''ll all be ok. They''d repeated those words to the other until they''d believed it. Repeated those words for as long as was necessary.


    He didn''t realize he''d been clawing at his skin until he felt hands wrestling his arms away from his body. "Kristin, Kristin, Kristin. Please. Please, stop." Kristin opened his eyes and met the rest of the group, all of whom wore matching looks. Sad, disbelieving, broken. Charlie gripped his wrists tightly in her hands.


    "Breathe, Kristin. Breathe." Ferris''s low voice managed to pierce through the hurricane battering his insides enough to jumpstart his brain. He drew in a shaky breath, exhaled, and then draw in another.


    "We... we''ll. Find wh-who did this," Zip said.


    No one said they were sorry. Kristin appreciated it.


    He focused on the tight squeeze of Charlie''s grip, hoping it would be enough to wake him up from the nightmare he surely was in. The universe couldn''t be so cruel.


    Right?


    Kristin stood up and closed the distance between him and where Ashley lay.


    "Do you need a moment alone?" Ren''s quiet voice broke the silence. "We''re alone here, but we can give you some private time with Ashley, if you''d like."


    He didn''t look back at them. All he could see was Ashley, and he couldn''t tear his eyes away from his brother. Kristin could only see Ashley''s head, neck, shoulders, and arms, but they were riddled with wounds. A gash split open his throat. Kristin shuddered when he thought about how the rest of his brother''s body would look, how the wounds would spread.


    Ashley''s skin was pale. A shade of brown Kristin knew was far too light.


    Who would do this? Who could do this to my brother? To anyone?


    Kristin traced Ashley''s cheek with a finger and brushed a lock of his dark, curly hair off to the side. Please. Please let me wake up. He picked up Ashley''s hand again and nearly vomited at how wrong it felt. The cool touch of Ashley''s skin against his. The limp feel of Ashley''s hand in his. Kristin wanted to feel Ashley''s fingers curl, hold his hand tight. He wanted to see Ashley open his eyes, place his hands on Kristin''s shoulders, and tell him that it was just a nightmare.


    Kristin''s legs bowed as he slouched down and wrapped his arms loosely around Ashley''s shoulders. He imagined Ashley''s own arms moving to wrap around his shoulders, holding him tight like he''d done countless times while growing up in Cat''s Cradle, like they''d done for each other their entire lives. The magical hug that would make everything better.


    Tears streamed down his face, and his sides shook with every blubbering inhale. Please. Please just come back to me, Ashley. Come back. Please, I need you. Please, Ashley. Please. I need you.


    I need a hug, Ashley. I need a hug, please.


    Slowly, Kristin sank to the ground with a sob. It felt so wrong that he was here and Ashley was... wherever he was that wasn''t here. Why was he here and Ashley not? What was so different about him? What was it about him that Ashley wasn''t?


    Someone had torn open his chest, ripped out his heart, and stomped it into the ground. Wrapped taloned fingers around his insides and shredded them into a million pieces. Thrown his soul into a meat grinder and turned it on high.


    How would the world keep spinning without you in it? How can I face the world without you, Ashley? What happens when I need you and you''re not there? How can the world live without you?


    Kristin turned around. The rest of the SFPU knelt beside him, and they were blurry through his tear-filled eyes.


    "Wh-why?" He managed to choke out.


    "I don''t know," Ferris whispered.


    "We''ll... f-find them." Zip stared at his shoes and rocked on the balls of his feet.


    "Tell me it''ll be ok." Kristin didn''t care if it was a lie, he just needed to hear the words. "Tell me it''ll all be ok."


    If it would quell the hurricane in his chest for even just a few moments, he''d listen. He''d listen to anything. If it would give him just an ounce of relief, he''d do anything. He knew it was selfish; Ashley wouldn''t feel anything ever again and here he was trying to soften everything he was feeling. He didn''t care. He just needed relief, whatever the form.


    He looked at each of his friends in turn. They''d all frozen, tensed after hearing what he''d said.


    Charlie gave him a pained look. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Can I give you a hug?" she asked. Kristin was only able to manage the subtlest of nods, and it was a miracle she was even able to see it.


    Charlie knelt in front of him and wrapped her arms around him, and he clung to the back of her shirt like he''d wash away if he didn''t hold on tight enough. His skin crawled at how different it felt from Ashley''s hugs. His held safety and comfort. This one held nothing. But he didn''t care. He curled his fingers a little tighter and squeezed his eyes shut.


    "Tell me it''ll be ok," he whispered. His voice sounded foreign.


    Charlie turned her head into his shoulder. She took a few deep breaths.


    "It''ll be ok, Kristin. It might not be rainbows and butterflies and unicorns, but it''ll all be ok."


    Kristin felt Ferris''s hand on his back and Zip''s tentative fingertips brushing his arm again. Ren stood next to him, their presence comforting.


    Charlie''s words didn''t help like he was hoping they would. They didn''t soothe him. They didn''t feel like the truth, though Kristin knew Charlie wouldn''t lie. She never told anyone what they wanted to hear just for the sake of comfort.


    "What... How-how..." Kristin couldn''t finish the sentence.


    "How do we go on?" Ferris''s voice was soft, and Kristin wondered how he knew what he''d been trying to say. He nodded.


    "We just try to keep going. Whether it''s taking it day by day, hour by hour, or even second by second, we just try to keep moving forward. It doesn''t matter if it''s as slow as can be, we just try to keep moving forward. Put one foot in front of the other."


    "How?" Kristin hated how broken he sounded, how strangled the word was. He choked on another round of sobs, and Charlie rubbed his back. Zip''s fingers ghosted across his skin in short taps.


    "I... I don''t know. I wish I had all the answers and I could make everything better, but I can''t. All I can say is to just keep trying to move forward, whatever that looks like. And if it''s just surviving for a day, for a week, for a month, that''s ok. Just keep fighting. I won''t tell you that Ashley would''ve wanted you to do something, because I''m not him. I won''t take guesses as to what he would''ve wanted because I''m Ferris, not Ashley.


    "I wish I could tell you some magical, inspirational quote that would take away the pain, but I can''t. Just know you''ve got us, and we''re not going anywhere."


    "You-... You knew him too."


    "I know. But none of us knew Ashley like you knew him. It hurts like hell for all of us, but I know it''s not anything like what you''re feeling."


    Kristin pulled away from Charlie and wiped his eyes. His fingers became slick with tears. When Ren offered him a tissue they''d pulled from their pocket, he took it.


    "Who could do this?" The gash carving across Ashley''s neck flashed in his mind, and bile rose in his throat.


    "A monster." Charlie''s voice was low, even. Rage burned in her eyes.


    "That we''ll find," Ren added on.


    "A-and catch," Zip finished.


    Although he felt mere seconds from vomiting his stomach contents and mere milliseconds from breaking down into another round of sobs, he stood up, biting his tongue until his chest didn''t shake so much and drawing in shaky breaths until he no longer felt like he''d pass out. A spark of anger flickered in his stomach, absorbing the grief pummeling his guts.


    We''ll find who murdered you, Ashley. We''ll find them. They''ll pay for what they did.


    "We''ve got work to do."

 NYTE - Chapter 6 - Zip Furr - Nothing More, Nothing Less

    Chapter 6


    ZIP FURR


    Ninety-seven percent of the time, Zip Furr wasn''t sure what he was supposed to be doing. What his hands were supposed to be doing. What posture he was supposed to be holding himself in. What his expression he should be adopting. What tone of voice he should be using. How much eye contact he should be making.


    It was like everyone was communicating in a language he only got every fourth word of. Enough where he could get bits and pieces, but not enough to assemble the whole puzzle.


    He could glean more pieces of the puzzle from the other people talking, but it was still like trying to read another language he only knew a handful of words of.


    The remaining three percent ¡ªthe three percent where Zip actually did have some idea of what he should be doing¡ª occurred only back at the SFPU''s camp. Where it was, nearly always, just him and the rest of the group. A safe haven, of sorts.


    There he didn''t have to try in the same way he did with others. It didn''t drain him in the same way. They might not always understand him exactly, but they didn''t expect him to communicate in their way either. For Zip, their way of communicating was simply a language he could hardly speak. It just didn''t make sense.


    He could mask to some extent, come across as neurotypical as best as he could, but it always cost him a month''s worth of energy for just a day''s worth of masking and always resulted in one thing and one thing only: a meltdown. An explosive reaction he had no control over. A terrifying occurrence he couldn''t stop. A draining experience he never wanted but couldn''t hold back no matter what he did.


    xxxx


    Zip felt that way now. He had no clue what he should be doing. Absolutely no clue.


    Kristin stood in front of him, some mix of emotions that Zip thought looked like sadness and anger swirling across his face. "We''ve got work to do," he said, almost spitting the words, though his voice cracked and tears rolled down his cheeks. It was only another few moments before he broke down again.


    Zip reached out a hand to touch Kristin, but then yanked it back to his chest. He knew hugging was a common thing to do in situations like this. A comforting gesture. He also knew words could be comforting, but he wasn''t sure what he could say that would have any sort of effect. We''ll find who did this was a true statement ¡ªthey would. They wouldn''t stop until they did¡ª but it wouldn''t bring back Ashley. Nothing could.


    "Are you doing alright?" Zip flinched when he realized Ren was right next to him. He hadn''t heard them move. He glanced up, fingernails scratching on his arms. He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. His voice wouldn''t work. He managed a weak shrug in reply.


    Zip pointed at Ren. A conversation went both ways, a lesson he''d been taught many, many times. "Me?" they said. "I... I don''t really know. I''m not sure I can describe whatever it is that I''m feeling yet."


    Zip nodded. He felt the same way.


    Charlie tugged on Kristin''s wrist. "Do you want to sit down? I can find a chair for you."


    "Don''t-. Don''t touch me." His lip curled and his eyes flashed.


    "Ok, I''m sorry." Charlie let his hand go.


    Kristin turned back toward Ashley, and a silence fell over the room.


    Zip tapped each of his fingers against his leg in a steady rhythm. He focused on the pattern and hoped it would ease some of the tension thrumming through his muscles, stringing him up and making his heart pound in his chest.


    When he snapped out of the trance he''d been in, he crept around the back of the room, making his way to the other side of where Ashley lay. He stopped two feet or so back and just stared. Hid mind simultaneously raced and froze in static, careening at a million miles an hour yet also inching at next to zero. A million thoughts he could easily make sense of, yet also half-formed bits he couldn''t piece together into anything even remotely logical.


    Zip''s arms moved and crossed in front of his chest, squeezing as his fingernails picked at his elbows.


    He''d seen plenty of dead animals in the Silverlight Forest and had run over a squirrel once, resulting in a meltdown and a panicked phone call to Kristin. His heart always broke, especially when they''d found snares and traps too late, for they''d already claimed a life. But he''d never seen a dead human before, and he wasn''t quite sure what to make of it. Somehow it was the same, yet also different.


    The biological part of death made sense to him: no heartbeat, no movement.


    But the other part, the psychological as opposed to physiological, made less sense. Ashley was gone, now what?


    Perhaps it was just the not knowing part of it all. Days in the SFPU were unpredictable, but they always held some form of rhythm and structure. None of them knew when the next person would try to hunt down animals in the forest and set traps and snares, but the part of what came next was always the same: track them down and arrest them. The camp was nearly always the same. Charlie might go through cabinets and rearrange when the cleaning bug struck her and one of the shipments of supplies they''d received from the Waverwell government resulted in an entire remodeling of the garage by the house, the one that functioned like a mini warehouse.


    That was with the six of them, and each had their jobs. Ferris did the paperwork. Charlie kept track of the species and their populations. Ren trained the dogs. Kristin was their doctor. Ashley kept everything up and running around camp. And Zip programmed the computers and kept the vehicles functioning. Everyone had their jobs. They all tracked down the hunters, but everyone had their job that they did.


    But Ashley was killed. He couldn''t come back. So what would happen then?


    Now what?


    Another part of Zip''s brain was wondering who was in front of him if Ashley was gone. The body looked like Ashley. Exactly like him. Yet Ashley was gone. So who was here?


    xxxx


    A soft knock on the door snapped Zip from his thoughts, and he jumped. Ren flinched, body tensing as they became far more alert. Someone walked through the door, who he didn''t recognize. They wore a sympathetic smile on their face.


    As they took a few slow steps forward, Zip felt the mask slipping back into place. A neutral expression replaced whatever one he''d been wearing before, and he put his hands in his pockets to try to get his shoulders to relax. He looked the person as close to the eyes as he could manage. He knew the mask wouldn''t be very successful and he knew it was to be expected to be acting different since a friend had just died. But he also knew that the mask was partially subconscious. A habit he didn''t always think about.


    "Hello. My name is Larson Hotch. I use he, him, and his pronouns. I''m very sorry for your loss." Larson was a fairly short man, whose curly hair was sprinkled with a dusting of grey. His uniform was spotless, no wrinkles in sight. His name tag hung straight, perfectly lined up with the stitching on his breast pocket.


    "What do you want?" Zip glanced over at Kristin. He spoke through his teeth and his eyes were red as tears streamed down his cheeks. He stared at his brother, back to Larson and knuckles white as he gripped the side of the tray.


    "I was hoping to ask each of you a few questions. It''s just a couple, and then I''ll go. Is that alright?"


    "What?" Kristin whirled around. "What? Do you think I did it? That I killed my brother? Why would I do that? We''re family. Family. It was just the two of us. And when we joined the SFPU, it was still us. Us, with four friends. I would never. Never. Do that. Kill my brother. No matter what he did, I''d never do that." His chest heaved and shook with sobbing breaths.


    "I do not believe that you killed your brother, Kristin. I was hoping that you would be able to tell me what was going on in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit in the past week or so. We''re building a timeline for Ashley to figure out what was going on before his death."


    "His murder."


    "His murder." Larson nodded.


    Kristin exhaled through his teeth. He tipped his head back and ran his hands over his face.


    Ferris stepped forward after a glance at Kristin. "I can answer your questions. Perhaps we could do so outside?"


    "Of course." Ferris followed Larson out of the room.


    Kristin sank to the ground. He drew his knees to his chest and buried his head in his crossed arms. "What are we going to do?" His voice was slightly muffled.


    "I... we''re gonna to help the Moonfall Precinct. We''re gonna to catch the monster that murdered Ashley. Get justice for him." Charlie shrugged. The usual easygoing casualness she wore was long gone, replaced by a confused fear Zip didn''t recognize on her.


    "It doesn''t feel real."


    "It doesn''t." Charlie chewed on a fingernail as she stared at Ashley''s body.


    They fell into a silence that hung in a smothering sort of way. Not comfortable, yet not choking either, just there, always to be felt and never to be forgotten. A looming figure that clung to every surface in the room. Kristin''s sobs broke the silence, though it still remained, and Charlie rubbed his back. Ren sat down next to him and held a few tissues in their hand. While he wanted to move to try to do something to help ease a bit of the pain that was surely gnawing at Kristin''s insides, Zip''s legs refused to move. His body was stuck in place, held in a trance he could not yet escape.


    Ferris opening the door had both Ren and Zip jumping. Charlie looked up, while Kristin barely moved. "Hey, Zip. Could you please come out here?"


    Zip stiffened. Did something happen? Am I in trouble? His mind started whirling, spiraling with a million possibilities. He hugged his arms to his middle and his fingers drummed against his sides as he nodded. He started to make his way to the door but when Ferris held up a finger, Zip stopped.


    Can you talk, Ferris silently asked, letting the door close on his shoulder so he was taking up most of the space in the doorway and giving a more private conversation between him and Zip. He tapped his fingers against his thumb in a mimed mouth. Zip managed a quick shake of his head.


    No.


    Do you want to do this? Zip weakly shrugged, gaze falling to the ground.


    I guess.


    Would you be able to write? Ferris held one hand out flat and the other pretended to scribble across it, a mimed pen on paper.


    Maybe.


    Would you like to try? After a long pause, Zip nodded in the briefest of movements.


    Sure.


    If it would be helpful in finding whoever murdered Ashley, he''d somehow muster the energy and manage to communicate despite feeling detached from his body and like he was floating. He had to.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Hello, Zip. May I speak with you?" After a minute, Zip nodded.


    "Where would you like to talk? We can do so in here, out in the hallway, or in another room. Whatever would be most comfortable for you." It wasn''t a yes or no question; it required more than a nod or a shake of his head. Tendrils of panic started to spread through his insides. Zip''s eyes found Ferris, and he knew his expression likely held some amount of desperation that Ferris saw.


    Want me to explain? Zip''s heart was nearly in his throat as he nodded.


    Yes.


    "Zip is currently nonverbal. He cannot talk right now. He can write down his answers, though, in response to your questions. Do you have a pad of paper and a pen he can borrow?"


    "Uh, yeah, sure. I can grab those from my desk. Do you want to talk outside of the room?" Larson waited as Zip processed his words and formulated a response at a snail''s pace. Finally, he nodded his head. Relief shattered through him. Larson hardly even blinked at the fact that Zip couldn''t speak.


    "Ok. Please give me just a moment to go get a pad and paper from my desk. I appreciate you being willing to talk with me. I know this is a very hard time for you right now."


    Once Larson had disappeared down a connecting hallway, Ferris took a step toward Zip. "Are you doing alright? You can talk with Larson tomorrow, if you''d like. You-." Zip cut him off by shaking a hand, mimicking a wave. He shook his head and pointed at the ground.


    No. Now.


    "Ok," Ferris said. "When I was talking with Larson, he asked what was around the camp and if we''d seen anything. I told him that we had camera traps in part of the forest and that you did most of the technology-related stuff, which is why he asked if you would talk with him. I don''t know what his exact questions will be, but I''d imagine there will at least be some about the camera traps." Zip took in the information and then nodded.


    A few minutes later, Larson returned, carrying a yellow pad of paper and a blue pen with him. "Hello again, Zip. There''s an open room just over here, a few doors down from where we are now. It''s private. We''d be the only ones in there. Would that work for you?" Zip nodded.


    "Great. Right this way, please." Zip trailed after Larson as he led the way to the room.


    Inside, it was simple and small. A table pressed up against the wall, four chairs, two tucked under the table and two off to the side. A single light lit up the room. A window on the wall opposite the door gave a view of Silverlight Forest off in the distance. Zip took the chair closer to the window so his back was to it and he faced the door. A small camera sat just above the door, and a red light on it blinked every few seconds. Panic nibbled at Zip''s throat and chest, but he took a deep breath. This was for Ashley. He''d answer Larson''s questions, and they would help figure out who murdered Ashley. He could do this.


    Larson sat down across from him.


    Zip scribbled at the top of the pad and paper to make sure the pen worked. It did. Quite well, though not to his surprise; he''d seen that it was likely brand new since it was full of ink.


    "First off, thank you for being willing to talk with me. I know this is a very difficult time for you right now. Could you please tell me your name?"


    Zip Furr, he wrote. It took him a bit to get the letters down. He turned the pad around so Larson could see.


    "Was there anything that stood out as unusual to you in the past few weeks? Related to Ashley Baok or not. Anything that struck you as odd?" Zip paused to think. He tapped the pen against his pinkie.


    Not really, he started, then added on. Pyr Iskie escaped. Ashley didn''t call us and didn''t come back. Those were odd.


    "It was odd that Pyr Iskie escaped?" Larson jotted down a few notes on his own pad of paper.


    He was in prison for the attempted killings of the Silverlight Pack and for the killings of several of the protected species of Silverlight Forest. We arrested him about a month and a half ago, but he escaped. We just arrested him again this evening. Or yesterday evening if it''s now a new day. I don''t know what time it is.


    Larson read Zip''s writing, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the information. "It''s about one in the morning right now, so yesterday evening. What about how Ashley didn''t call you and return?"


    Ashley never misses a call or text. He always responded within a few minutes. Zip reread the words a few times. He crossed out the last S on misses and replaced it with a D. Past tense, not present.


    "Did you reach out?"


    Kristin did a bunch. Ashley didn''t respond.


    "What was Ashley doing before he went missing?"


    He was on a supply run to Moonfall.


    "What was the supply run for?"


    Supplies for the camp.


    "Can you tell me more about the supply runs?"


    Ok. Larson exhaled slowly upon seeing Zip''s response.


    "Can you please tell me more?" Zip circled ok and held the pad of paper up again. Larson leaned back in his seat. Zip wished he could speak and tell Larson that he''d answer the questions, that the ok was saying that yes, he could tell Larson about the supply runs, that he was willing to do so. Ask away.


    Thankfully, Larson seemed to understand.


    "Where did you go for the supply runs?"


    Moonfall. A few stores. We''d get more food, pick up any parts for repairs in the camp, get any mail that had arrived, and get whatever else we needed. If we went and wanted to stop at a store for something personal we could as well.


    "You could get something personal? Like what?"


    Books, magazines, snacks, clothes.


    "Was it usually just one person who went on the supply runs?"


    Yes.


    "Was it usually Ashley who went on the supply run?"


    We all did. It was usually him though.


    "When did you first begin to think something was strange?"


    In the morning when he didn''t come back.


    "What time would he usually have gotten back?"


    In the morning. You stayed overnight since driving in Silverlight Forest when it''s dark is difficult. He should''ve been back by the time breakfast was done.


    "How did you reach out to Ashley?"


    We called and texted him a bunch. Kristin was thinking about creating a Muse account to message Ashley on. I don''t know if he did. Ren and I drove around Moonfall a bit after bringing Pyr here but didn''t see anything. We returned to the camp when we saw the cars speeding to Silverlight Forest.


    Larson studied Zip. The camera continued to flash the red light, recording everything that took place in the room. Zip squirmed and shifted in his seat. He flipped to a new page on the pad.


    "Was Ashley acting strange at all recently? Perhaps doing something he hadn''t done in the past, changing habits of his."


    Not really, Zip wrote, then put a line through it. He went off into the woods a bunch and would sometimes come back from supply runs a few hours later. He always communicated and would let us know but he''d sometimes disappear. He''d done that the day before he was murdered.


    "So it was common for Ashley to disappear?"


    Not disappear. We knew he was out.


    "Do you know where he went?"


    If it was on supply runs, likely somewhere in Moonfall since the car he took never left Moonfall. In the forest, somewhere in it.


    "Do you know what he was doing on these... excursions?"


    No.


    "Do you know if someone else would?"


    Kristin might.


    "How long have you known the other members of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"


    About a year. Kristin and Ashley knew each other their whole lives though.


    "How did you decide to join together and form the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"


    Ferris found Charlie and then Ren. I met Kristin and Ashley and they mentioned the group and then we joined. We each had skills that went well together. Ferris got funding from President Cynthia Corville and we got the necessary permits and such to be able to live on Silverlight Forest, create roads, put up cameras, patrol it, and arrest any offenders. Zip looked over his writing and decided it probably answered Larson''s question, though he added on: We took a leap of faith that it would all work out.


    "What are the skills you each have?"


    Ferris is good with paperwork and organizing things. Charlie is good with identifying species and knows a lot about the forest. Ren is good at training the dogs and working with them. Kristin is good with first aid. Ashley was good at most things and knew a little about a lot. He helped out a lot around camp. I''m good with computers.


    Larson jotted down a few notes, sighed, and then flipped through what he wrote. He''d written down nearly everything Zip had said, with scribbled words in the margins that Zip couldn''t make out from upside down.


    "Why can''t you talk right now?" The tone of Larson''s voice wasn''t... rude. It wasn''t curious, either. Instead, it was somewhere in the middle, not why can''t you talk just talk already, yet also not I''m just curious why you can''t talk it''s fine. Zip didn''t move to write for what felt like an eternity. His mind raced over what he should write, how he should write it, and what Larson would say in response. While he struggled to put up a convincing mask and hide his autistic traits, he was never very successful at it, much less in a situation like now.


    I''ve shut down. When that happens I often lose my voice.


    "Shut down?"


    Yes. Instead of exploding in a meltdown, I''ll implode and shut down.


    "Implode instead of explode." Larson rubbed his chin. He sounded like he was pondering what Zip had written, as opposed to chastising him like Zip had half expected.


    Yes.


    "You''re doing a damn good job of hiding it. Just by looking at you, I''d have said you were just shy or something." That''s not the compliment you think it is, Zip wanted to write. Instead, he just shrugged. He didn''t have the energy to explain that the translation of what Larson had said was that Zip was doing a good job of hiding the parts of himself society would view as bad. That Zip was convincing with the mask he''d been crafting for his whole life. Larson seemed to register his reluctance to talk further and moved on.


    "Ferris tells me you''re the person to talk to about the cameras you have in the forest?"


    Yes.


    "How many do you have?"


    25.


    "Where are they?"


    The left half of the forest. There''s one by the Silverlight Pack''s den as well, Camera Trap 25.


    "The side closer to Corville?"


    Yes.


    "Are they filming constantly?"


    Yes.


    "What happens with the footage?"


    If the cameras see a person walking by, it alerts us. All of the footage is stored on drives. Anything we want to save we do and the rest is eventually deleted after a while.


    "What do you save?"


    Anything the cameras alert us on and anything we want to keep an eye on. Where wildlife is moving, common locations for traps and snares.


    "How long before footage is deleted?"


    About two months. Sometimes longer.


    "Have you seen anything unusual along Myway Highway?"


    There''s only one camera directly on Myway Highway but five others near it. They haven''t recorded anything suspicious and haven''t alerted us to anything.


    "Which camera is directly on Myway Highway?"


    Camera Trap 12.


    "Which are the five that are near Myway Highway?"


    Camera Traps 4, 5, 11, 13, and 23.


    "Can you mark them on a map, please?" Larson pulled a printed map of Silverlight Forest from within his pad of paper and pushed it across the table. Zip took it.


    He traced the line of Myway Highway with his pen, then the outline of Silverlight Lake, a vaguely heart-shaped body of water slightly higher than the center of the forest. He put a dot where the camp was, followed by a few other landmarks; the Silverlight Pack den, trees they used to navigate by their easily recognizable shape, a monstrous boulder across Myway Highway from Silverlight Lake. From there, he started placing the locations of each of the camera traps, as close as he could to their actual location. He put in Camera Trap 25 first, since it was directly next to the Silverlight Pack den. He then added the remaining camera traps.


    Approximate location, Zip wrote on the pad of paper.


    "I know. This is just to get a sense of where they are in the forest. Would it be possible to get a copy of the exact locations though?"


    Ok.


    "Did Camera Trap 11, 19, 20, 22, or 23 alert you at all in the past three days or so?"


    Camera Trap 19 and 23 did when Pyr Iskie was in Silverlight Forest. Camera Team 17, too.


    "What do the camera traps alert you to?"


    People walking by them.


    "Do they ever miss an alert or alert you to something else. Say, a deer?"


    No.


    "Is it possible they could have?"


    Unless they were tampered with or the batteries died, no. They do exactly what I tell them to. The cameras are checked daily and the batteries are included in that. If they were tampered with, they would''ve told us. That''s a different alert.


    Zip turned the pad of paper around. He didn''t like that Larson was questioning his camera traps. He''d coded them and built them. The cameras, and everything he built, worked exactly as he told them to. They would do exactly as he said. Nothing more, nothing less. Frustration rose within him, but he forced it down.


    "No one tampered with the cameras?"


    Yes, no one tampered with them. The pen carved into the paper as Zip wrote, and he had to exhale slowly to avoid tearing the paper.


    "Can we get a copy of all of the footage from all of the cameras for the past month?"


    Sure.


    "Thank you, Zip. I appreciate your time and willingness to meet with me. I know this is a very tough time for you right now."


    Larson held out his hand, and Zip hesitated. He didn''t want to shake Larson''s hand, yet he also didn''t want to say no. It would be rude to do that. His mind raced, zig-zagging back and forth on what to do. Which would require less confrontation, which would require less explaining, which would lead to less discomfort. In the end, he decided to reach out and take Larson''s hand, ignoring how his skin crawled.


    His fingers flexed by his side as he followed Larson out of the room. He could still feel the ghost of Larson''s fingers curling around his hand, still felt those little claws wrapping around and digging into his skin. A shudder ran up his spine, but he didn''t react. He swallowed and trailed a few steps behind Larson. Someone passed them by, offering a nod of their head as acknowledgement.


    Kristin didn''t look up when Zip walked back into the room. He was hunched over the body of his brother. Ren glanced up, offering a brief smile, as did Ferris and Charlie.


    "I will give you all some time. This room is yours for as long as you need it. If you need anything, please don''t hesitate to ask."


    "Thank you," Ferris said. Larson shut the door softly behind him.


    At some point during the time Zip was talking with Larson, a few chairs had been brought in. They had been arranged near where Ashley''s body lay. Ferris and Charlie each sat in one, while Ren leaned against the back wall, furthest from the door. They had a distant look on their face, and their arms were crossed across their chest as they gazed at Ashley''s body.


    Charlie pushed an empty chair toward Zip, a silent offer that Zip took. He perched himself on the edge of the chair and wrung his hands together. Panic battered his chest despite his attempts to calm himself.


    What would happen now that Ashley was gone? What would the SFPU look like? What would anything look like? Ashley had always known a little about everything, from both picking up things in conversations and the mountain of books he read, often picking up a few every time he went out on a supply run. He was a pillar of the SFPU, able to get along with just about everyone. And he cared deeply. Kristin had been interested in joining the SFPU, but Ashley had been the once to completely convince him they should.


    Zip didn''t know what the future held for the SFPU. The thought scared him, since he liked the relative regularity of the SFPU, but he knew they couldn''t go back. You couldn''t resurrect someone from the dead.


    But they were a group. Friends and family in one. The SFPU wouldn''t go anywhere; they had work to do.

 NYTE - Chapter 7 - Cynthia Corville - Asa and Azrael Smith

    Chapter 7


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    When Cynthia next checked her reflection in the mirror, she was sure she''d see about a hundred new grey hairs littering her mousy hair. She was certain of it.


    But she also couldn''t really bring herself to care.


    She knew being the President of Waverwell wasn''t going to be a walk in the park. It would bring immense joy, but it would also bring immense stress.


    Like the murder of Ashley Baok.


    xxxx


    Ferris Dipper had reached out first. He''d sent a letter from Moonfall that went to Corville, going across the desks of several government employees, before eventually landing on Cynthia''s mahogany desk in the President''s Room, a space Cynthia had always found a little too big for practicality. Who really needed all that space?


    The letter had been direct and to-the-point, which Cynthia appreciated. Most letters she received were from other officials and perhaps some businesses, so she still wasn''t quite sure how a letter from then someone she ¡ªand everyone else in the government¡ª didn''t know wound up in front of her. But she was thankful it did.


    Ferris explained how he''d seen that Silverlight Forest was in danger and how many poachers were walking around unchecked in the forest, killing as they pleased. There had been laws at the time, but they were weak and ill enforced. There might as well have not been any laws at all. Cynthia shuddered at the thought.


    After many letters back and forth and some long, tense conversations with other members of the Waverwell government, including Harold, Gabriella, Linda, and Delta, the skeleton of what would eventually become the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit was born.


    The group grew from one to six as Ferris brought in others. No one really knew if it would work, and many felt it was a long-shot. A very, very long long-shot. But Ferris believed in it. Cynthia believed in it. Charlie believed in it. Ren believed in it. Zip believed in it. Kristin believed in it. Ashley believed in it. And that, for a while, had to be enough.


    But then it started to succeed, and it felt like Cynthia could fly. The Silverlight Forest Protection Unit had a breakthrough and they''d caught their first offender, then another, then another, and then the numbers of reported offenders began to drop while the numbers of caught offenders rose.


    The tense conversations about if the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit would work began to get ease, and the conversations about what would happen to her reputation if the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit failed became fewer and further between.


    Cynthia had visited the camp a few times. She''d gotten a chance to look around, meet with the group, and say hello to the dogs. Ren had asked that she be brief with her greeting, and she''d complied with their request, not wanting to disrupt any of the training that had been put into the dogs.


    It felt surreal, getting to meet the people who were doing the work that had at first seemed like a far-off dream and getting to see the camp that had, for the longest time, been nothing more than scratches on a sheet of paper. But it became reality.


    In her first visit to the camp, Ashley had been the first to walk up to her. He''d greeted her with a big smile and a firm handshake, saying hello as if they''d been friends for the longest of time, despite never having met before. He''d talked with her like he would anyone else, as if she was just someone else walking down the street, not the President of Waverwell, and she''d found comfort in that. It often felt like people were walking on eggshells with her, but it didn''t feel like that with Ashley.


    Cynthia only saw Ashley one more time after that, in her second visit to the camp. It was a mere two months ago, but it felt like forever.


    But now Cynthia wouldn''t be able to see Ashley ever again. There was something that was just so final about death. People could move away, go to separate sides of Waverwell and never see each other again, never speak another word to each other. Yet there was still the opportunity, the option, if chosen, to seek each other out. But nothing was as final as death. No matter how much you wanted to, you could never see or say a word again.


    Given the chance to see Ashley once more, Cynthia wondered what she''d say to him.


    xxxx


    About a half-hour ago, someone had dropped off an update about the murder in Silverlight Forest. An intern was Cynthia''s best guess, though she didn''t bother to ask, instead far more focused on the envelope. She sliced it open with a letter opener and pulled out the sheet paper, neatly folded in even creases.


    It was only one page, printed double-sided.


    The body had been identified as Ashley Baok by his brother, Kristin Baok.


    While an autopsy into the full extent of Ashley Baok''s injures hadn''t been completed yet, the surface-level wounds showed that his death had likely been excruciating. Cynthia shuddered as she tried to imagine even a fraction of what he had been through before death claimed him forever.


    She laced her fingers together and rested her chin on her hands, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.


    Cynthia would find whoever was responsible. She knew she would. You''ll have other people find whoever''s responsible, you mean, right? Her subconscious reminded her that it wasn''t really her who would find Ashley Baok''s murderer, but rather a team of detectives. She felt helpless.


    The door to the President''s Room opened, and her wife, Charlotte Waver, walked through. Cynthia smiled when she saw that Charlotte was wearing the green blouse she''d bought as a gift a few days prior.


    Charlotte had a few inches on Cynthia. Her features were soft and her hair curled down against her jaw in smooth locks. Streaks of grey shown bright against her blond hair, and a dusting of wrinkles adorned her face. Charlotte was as beautiful as the day Cynthia first met her. Her steps were even and confident as she crossed the room. The door closed softly behind her.


    "Hello, Sin," Charlotte said. A nickname Charlotte had once written to Cynthia in a letter that had since stuck.


    "Char," Cynthia replied. She pushed her chair back and turned to face Charlotte, who walked around and leaned against the edge of her desk.


    "I heard about the murder on the news. That''s absolutely terrible." Charlotte closed her eyes.


    "I know, I know. I think I''m going to put a team together or something. This... this shouldn''t be happening in Waverwell. We''ve never had anything like this happen before, and it can''t happen again. But I won''t reduce Ashley Baok to just a ''look what happened, this shouldn''t happen again'' type of event. Of course it shouldn''t happen again, but it shouldn''t have happened in the first place. And he was a person. A living, breathing human being who had a right to live a long, happy life and who had friends and family who loved him." Cynthia ran a hand through her hair.


    "We''ll find who did it. We''ll help the Moonfall Precinct and will do everything in our power to assist. No stone will remain unturned. Ashley Baok will get the justice he deserves. This will never happen again."


    "I can''t imagine what the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit is going through right now. Especially Kristin Baok. To lose a sibling? I can''t imagine it."


    "I cannot either."


    Both Cynthia and Charlotte were only children, each born to parents and families that were heavily involved in Waverwell''s government. Several generations ago, their families ¡ªthe Corvilles and the Wavers¡ª were amongst those that built Waverwell and its government. Now, both families continued their involvement in helping run the country.


    They had met when they were teenagers and became close friends, staying in touch even when they went to college. Yet when they saw each other again after each being elected to the Waverwell government, their friendship morphed into something more, and a few years later they got married.


    xxxx


    Charlotte dragged a chair from one of the tables along the wall and sat down next to Cynthia. "Sin," she said. "Do you think we should hold some kind of meeting or something? Any murder is terrible, but something like this is going to get people talking."


    "Yes, yes it will. It''s imperative that we ensure the public is getting the right information. Nothing would be worse than people hearing false facts and reacting to those, as opposed to the truth."


    "Meeting and then a press conference?"


    "Yes."


    "Do you want me here?"


    "I think it would be a good idea. You know more about how the law enforcement agencies work." It was true. While Cynthia knew plenty ¡ªshe needed to so she could successfully do her job ¡ª Charlotte did know more about the inner workings. As wife of the President of Waverwell, she used her position to try to find ways for law enforcement to run more smoothly and make sure law enforcement was transparent and open about everything they were doing.


    "Alright, I''ll stay."


    About ten minutes later, just as the clock was striking six, Gabriella walked into the room. Soon after, Linda and Harold followed suit. It took another five minutes for Delta to arrive. He strolled into the room, a coffee in hand. "Hey, everyone." Delta pulled up a chair, plopping down at the end of the semicircle formed by Gabriella, Linda, and Harold.


    Cynthia clasped her fingers together, placed her elbows on her desk, and rested her chin on her hands. "Whenever you are ready, Delta." Her voice was flat, cold.


    "Oh, of course, Cynthia. Just give me like one minute." Delta ruffled through his bag, producing a pad of paper and a pen.


    "You''re five minutes late."


    "It was five minutes."


    "That''s five minutes we were all waiting on you. Don''t be late in the future. You might''ve been voted in by the Waverwell public, but they can always vote you out. And I have the power to remove you."


    "You don''t have to be so rude about it. Jeez. It was just five minutes."


    "It was five minutes we were waiting on you for, and it was five minutes that you deemed more worth it to get coffee as opposed to show up on time. And it is not your first time showing up to a meeting late."


    "Ok, ok, I''m sorry. All good here?" Delta held up his hands, and Cynthia thought she saw the beginning of an eye roll. At least he was smart enough to not do it.


    "No. I want to make it very clear that I value my time, as does everyone else in the room. When I say we''re meeting at six, we''re meeting at six. Show up at whatever time you need to be ready for the meeting at six. Not six oh five, not six oh one, six. Do not be late again. I don''t care what you have to do to make it on time, but do not be late again."


    "Yeah, yeah, you got it, Cynthia."


    Cynthia didn''t know how much Delta was really listening, but she had made her point. Now it was up to him to actually change his behavior and show up on time to meetings. He had never come more than a few minutes late, but it was nearly every time and he had yet to listen to requests to be on time.


    "Now that that has been settled, let the meeting commence. Linda, you are taking notes, correct?" When Linda said yes, Cynthia nodded her head and continued. "It is six oh eight in the afternoon. If everyone could go around and state their name. I am Cynthia Corville."


    "Charlotte Waver."


    "Linda Machowski."


    "Harold Morris."


    "Gabriella Torres."


    "Delta Bass."


    "Ok, great. We are gong to be discussing the murder of Ashley Baok, a member of the Silverlight Forest Protection unit, during this meeting. The investigation into what exactly happened that caused his murder and who did it is still ongoing. However, due to the nature of his murder, it is one of the most ¡ªif not the most¡ª brutal in Waverwell history. Because of that, and that he was a member of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit which is a product of the government, I have called this meeting to discuss how it should be handled.


    "As for what we know so far, this is it: Ashley Baok was murdered last night, likely some time around midnight, though the exact time isn''t known. His body was found about halfway through Silverlight Forest a little ways from Myway Highway. While an autopsy into the full extent of the damage has yet to be done, it is clear he was tortured before he died.


    "The Moonfall Precinct will be keeping most of the information that they know to themselves as they conduct their investigation, but they will be communicating with us and, especially, Kristin Baok and the rest of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. The Moonfall Precinct has already told the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit that Ashley Baok''s body was found."


    "It was probably just one of those poachers they were hunting." Delta leaned back, stretching his arms up behind his head and rocking back onto the hind legs of his chair.


    "It could have been, but it also could have not been. I don''t know, and the purpose of this meeting is not to discuss what we thought happened since none of us are investigators and we do not have all of the information. Now, if we can get back to our meeting, please."


    "I think Cynthia''s in a bad mood. What do you think, Gabby?" Delta placed his hand on Gabriella''s wrist as he leaned over and whispered in her ear, though his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. Linda and Harold sighed, shifting in their seats. The look Gabriella gave him was icy enough to put an army six feet under.


    "I think you should remove your hand from my arm, stop calling me Gabby since my name is Gabriella, and give some respect to Ashley Baok. The way you are acting right now is showing that you do not care in the slightest that a person was just murdered."


    "Ok, ok, whatever. Quit being in such a bad mood." This time, Delta did roll his eyes. He took his hand off of Gabriella''s arm.


    "You''re acting like a child, Delta. Someone was just murdered, so show some respect." Cynthia felt her eye twitch.


    "Sure, it sucks, but I didn''t know him. You want me to sit here? Fine, I''ll sit here." Delta crossed his arms across his chest. Anger flared in Cynthia''s chest, but Charlotte beat her to speaking.


    "I never got to meet Ashley Baok, so I didn''t know him either," Charlotte started, standing up and moving to stand in the middle of the semicircle. "Not personally, at least, but I know both you and I have heard about Ashley Baok. But it doesn''t matter whether or not either of us met him. What matters is that someone was cruel enough to strip away Ashley Baok''s life from his body and take him from this world before his time. Now, no one can bring him back to life and no one can even begin to heal the pain and grief Kristin Baok and the other members of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit are going through right now. But what we can do is do our part to ensure justice is brought for Ashley Baok and that this never happens again.


    "So, no, I do not want you to just sit there. I want you to do your part. We''re having a discussion about Ashley Baok''s murder, and you''re sitting here and acting like a child. But with a child it would be understandable that they would be moving around and wouldn''t quite fully be able to understand what murder really means. You''re not a child. You''re an adult, so show some respect. You never got to meet Ashley Baok, so you cannot even begin to comprehend what was lost when he was murdered. Got it?"


    "Ok," Delta murmured.


    "Great." Charlotte sat down. Hopefully she had gotten through to him.


    "Would you like me to keep all of that in the notes?" Linda chewed on the end of her pen.


    "Please."


    "So... we''re going to hold a press conference?" Harold crossed his ankles.


    "It would allow us to say what we''re doing as far as assisting how we can with the investigation the Moonfall Precinct is conducting. And we could ensure the right information is out to the public," Gabriella said.


    Cynthia took a sip of water. "I think we should hold a press conference. I wouldn''t normally do one, but with something like this... with something like this I think it''s necessary. Let''s call one for, say, a couple of hours from now and work out what we''ll tell the reporters and the public. Let''s also get in contact with the Moonfall Precinct and see if they need anything. We could put together a team of some sort dedicated to solving Ashley Baok''s murder."


    "I will send out the notice now to Waverwell News, the Moonfall Precinct, and your advisors." Linda pulled out her laptop. Her fingers flew across the keys as she drafted an email, reread it several times, and then sent it out.


    "Wait, aren''t there some detectives or something who have solved a bunch of murders?" Harold scratched his chin.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "Asa and Azrael?" Delta looked up from where he''d been picking at his nails.


    "Yeah, them. Asa and Azrael... Smith, is it?"


    "Yes," Cynthia said.


    "Maybe they could be on it?"


    "I don''t know too much about them, but I do believe they''re very skilled in solving crimes. They might be good candidates. Let me call Larson Hotch."


    Cynthia typed in Larson Hotch''s number into the keypad of the phone in the President''s Room. It rang for several long moments.


    "Hello?"


    "Hello. This is Cynthia Corville. Is this Larson Hotch?"


    "Oh, uh. Yeah, this is Larson Hotch. Hello, Mrs. President. How are you doing?"


    "Please, call me Cynthia. I''m doing well, thank you for asking. How about yourself?"


    "I''m doing great, thanks. May I ask what the, uh, reason is for you calling?"


    "I am thinking about putting together a team to investigate the murder of Ashley Baok. They''d work alongside you and the rest of the Moonfall Precinct and would be dedicated solely to Ashley Baok''s case. I was hoping to be able to talk with you about that."


    "Yeah, ok. I''ve got some time."


    "Great, thank you. Let me put the phone on speaker. I have my wife, Charlotte Waver, with me, as well as Linda Machowski, Harold Morris, Gabriella Torres, and Delta Bass."


    "Hello, Mr. Hotch. This is Charlotte," Charlotte said.


    "Hello, Charlotte. Please, call me Larson."


    "You absolutely have far more experience with solving crimes and know more about Ashley Baok''s case than we do. I also know we have a lot of resources we can use. With something like the murder of Ashley Baok, I think coming together to work together would be very valuable," Charlotte said.


    "Y-yes, yes, of course, Cynthia. I think a team working with our detectives would be invaluable."


    "Hello, Larson. This is Gabriella Torres. We have only begun the very preliminary discussions over the team, but the names of Asa and Azrael Smith have come up. What are your opinions on them?"


    "I haven''t had the opportunity to meet them in person, but they are some of the best detectives I know of. The cases they have solved together are some of the toughest there have been. They''re people with skills one can only hope to achieve."


    "Wonderful. We''ll have to get them on the team." Cynthia jotted down a sticky note to get in touch with Asa and Azrael as soon as possible. They were likely extremely busy but one could hope they''d be willing to investigate with the Moonfall Precinct.


    "How far into your investigation are you?" Harold asked.


    "Ashley Baok''s body was found earlier today, so we''re still in the very beginning stages. We''ll be conducting interviews in the coming days and likely weeks and continuing our search for evidence. It''ll take some time. We won''t stop until whoever was responsible for Ashley Baok''s murder is found, arrested, and charged though."


    "Let us know if there''s anything we can do to help, but we will get the team together. I''ll reach out to Asa and Azrael Smith. I''m guessing they''ll agree, but I won''t make any promises. President or not, they''re still their own people.


    "I''ll be doing a press conference later this evening. You should''ve gotten an email about it, but I wanted to let you know over the phone as well. You''ll be there, right?"


    "Yes, I will be there. I''m actually going to leave in about half an hour or so."


    "Great. That''s great. We will see you soon. Please, if there is anything we can do to help, don''t hesitate to ask."


    "Thank you. I will see you soon as well. It was wonderful getting to talk with you all, though I wish it was under better circumstances."


    Larson hung up, and Cynthia returned the phone to its receiver.


    Cynthia glanced at the clock on the corner of her desk. Charlotte had bought it as a gift a few months ago, and it looked like it was melting onto the surface of her desk. The numbers oozed toward the bottom and the metal on the lower part of the clock seeped out to the sides. While the majority of the decorations in Waverwell''s capitol building were very formal and minimalist, Cynthia had decided to spruce up her desk with the melting clock.


    It was nearing 7.


    "The press conference is at 8:30. I think we could all use a quick bite to eat while we gather information and work out what we''re going to say, how we''re going to answer questions, and decide what we can tell the public and what we can''t."


    "Oh, I already ate before get-."


    "Delta," Gabriella said, cutting him off. "Please do not talk. I do not want to hear about how you already ate when you wasted our time by arriving five minutes late." She laced her fingers together and rested them on her lap.


    "Isn''t it a thing that when someone likes you they''re mean to you?"


    "It is not. I do not like you, romantically or as a friend. You are rude and sexist. I do not desire you in any way, shape, or form, nor will I ever. I suggest that you understand that fact as quickly as possible because it will not ever change."


    "See? You''re rude to me. I mean, kindergarten way of showing it, but I had a feeling you were into me. Not hard to see why," Delta said, running a hand through his hair as he leaned onto the arm of his chair to get closer to Gabriella. "I knew it. So, date? Dinner, then we can go back to my place... and see where the night takes us?"


    "What part of I''m not interested and do not like you did you not understand?"


    "You''re hot, I''m hot. We could be, like, the Waverwell government power couple. Well, Cynthia and Charlotte, of course. We could be the other power couple. We could dominate Muse. I''ve got one of the highest follower counts. In the top 5. I haven''t checked yet today. If I tagged you and told people to follow you, your follower count would skyrocket." Cynthia was very much tempted to facepalm, and the desire to stalk over to Delta, grab him by the front of his shirt, and throttle him was steadily growing within her.


    "So you''re still not listening. Ok, let''s try this again. Are you listening to me, Delta?"


    "Yeah, ''course I''m listening." Delta snorted. Harold pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, and Linda''s knuckles were tight around her pen. Cynthia took a deep breath as rage sizzled in her gut. She had been tempted time and time again to remove Delta from Waverwell government, but she couldn''t do it without a very good reason.


    "Great," Gabriella said through her teeth. "Delta, I am not interested in you in the slightest. I do not desire you in any romantic way. Any advances you make are unwelcome. We will never be a couple. I do not care for Muse follower counts. I will never date you. I do not desire you. Have I made myself clear?"


    "I love a challenge." Delta smiled.


    Something in Cynthia snapped and the rage bubbled over. Instincts told her to lash out, but after a tense exhale she just held onto her desk in a death grip.


    "Delta Bass, listen very closely. It is a mystery to me how you managed to get elected to Waverwell''s government. Everyone in this building ¡ªexcept for you¡ª have spent years studying the laws and the very structure of Waverwell that allows it to run and have honed their beliefs to fight for what they believe the perfect Waverwell looks like. You, on the other hand, have not. I truly do not know what you think Waverwell should look like. You show up late to every meeting. You do not listen. You do not know how to take no for an answer. You do not leave women alone, even after they say they''re not interested.


    "We have told you what we expect and have given you more than enough time to make changes in your behavior. But you continue to act like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.


    "This is your final chance. Be thankful I''m even giving you one. If you so much as look at Gabriella ¡ªor anyone, for that matter¡ª wrong, show up even a second late to a meeting, or cause any disrespect toward anyone or anything, I will have you removed from Waverwell government and ensure you will never hold any job ¡ªgovernment or otherwise¡ª again. Understood?" Cynthia could almost feel the fury burning through her skin but she didn''t care. She hoped it made her look all the more deadly serious. She hoped it instilled a bit of fear into Delta. Maybe that fear would create some change, though a part of her thought that perhaps he was past saving. Perhaps there was just no coming back for him; he was too far gone. But another part of her thought that anyone could change if they put their mind to it.


    Delta stared at her for several long moments. His neutral expression was faintly flickering with so many emotions that Cynthia couldn''t quite tell how he was feeling and what he was thinking.


    "Ok," he eventually said.


    "If you don''t believe me, that''s on you. But if you have even one mistake, you will be removed from Waverwell government. And now, moving on from that, the press conference is at 8:30. Be at the back lawn by 8 to get ready and make sure everything is good to go. Charlotte, you''re with me. Linda, I will need you to send me your notes. Go and make sure you''ll be ready and get a quick bite to eat. It is now 7:13. I am Cynthia Corville, and this meeting is over. Everyone, you are dismissed."


    xxxx


    As soon as the door closed and it was just Cynthia and Charlotte, Cynthia rested her forearms on her desk and buried her face in her arms with a groan. Charlotte rubbed her back.


    "Delta makes me want to scream."


    "You should. He probably wouldn''t know what to do."


    "Do you think anyone would really care if he just... mysteriously went missing?"


    Charlotte laughed. "He''s got a bunch of Muse followers. They''d probably gang together and go hunt you down."


    True. Very, very true, Cynthia thought.


    "What if they didn''t know it was me?"


    Charlotte hummed. "I guess they''d try to become their own version of police."


    "Too much work to commit secretive murder."


    "Too much work is the only reason?"


    "He makes my skin crawl, but I wouldn''t actually." Cynthia turned her head to look at her wife.


    "You won''t kill a spider so I doubt you''d be able to kill another person."


    "Hey! They''re just trying to live too. Besides, some are kinda cute."


    "I know. It''s part of why I love you so much. You''re so kind to everyone." Charlotte leaned in and brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen into Cynthia''s face.


    "Part of why? What else about me?" Cynthia propped her head up on an elbow.


    "You want me to go on?" Charlotte copied her movement.


    "Please."


    "Hmm, let''s see. Well, you''re extremely kind, hardworking, and courageous. You''re reliable and funny and friendly. You''re the most beautiful person I''ve ever met. You''re amazing, Cynthia Corville. Absolutely amazing. Strong. So strong. Shall I continue?"


    Cynthia didn''t reply. She just leaned in for a kiss, placing a hand on Charlotte''s cheek. Charlotte didn''t move at first, but after a few moments returned the gesture, lacing her fingers through Cynthia''s hair.


    "I love you, Char," Cynthia said, still close enough to her wife that their faces were a mere inch or two from each other.


    "I love you too, Sin." Charlotte kissed her again. Once. Twice. Thrice.


    xxxx


    8 o''clock rolled around quickly, and Cynthia took a few moments in the restroom just down the hall from the President''s Room to straighten her clothing, run her fingers through her hair a few times, and touch up her makeup. Charlotte had left for the third floor, the residential area of Waverwell''s government building, to change.


    Cynthia took a deep breath and stared at her reflection. "Speak slowly, look out at the crowd, remember to breath. You''ve got this. You''ve spoken in front of people countless times. You know what you''re talking about. It''s a topic that is important to you. You''ve got this, Cynthia Corville. You''ve got this. Breath in for four, hold for four, exhale for four, pause for four." She counted out each breath several times, and the prickle of sweat on the back of her neck and the flutter of her heart slowed to nothing.


    Once she felt ready, she made her way downstairs to the first floor of Waverwell''s government building. The door to the back lawn was opened for her, and she took another deep breath before exiting. Gabriella walked over to her. "Hello, Cynthia. Are you ready for the press conference?"


    "Yes, I do believe so."


    "Wonderful. Delta has miraculously been here for a few minutes already. I think your threat of getting him removed from Waverwell government may have worked, but I will not press my luck and come to any conclusions just yet. Harold has voiced concerns that your image may suffer if this does not work, and that even if it does you still may lose support."


    "That is great about Delta, but I do not particularly care what Harold thinks. He thinks we should tear up Silverlight Forest. I''ll listen to what he has to say. I''ll be respectful and weigh his opinions. But this is something I believe in," she said before adding on: "I also think he would disagree with just about anything I had to say."


    The back lawn of Waverwell''s government building was a neatly cropped lawn surrounded by a variety of bushes and plants that had been trimmed into perfect shapes. A crowd of people milled about, and people from Waverwell News set up cameras and made sure microphones were working. Gabriella bid farewell and slipped around a group and vanished.


    A stage had been constructed on the far side of the lawn. Waverwell''s flag, a rectangular shape that had been split diagonally from the left into blue and orange, with a black stripe running across the other diagonal and a green bear rearing up in the middle, hung on a pole behind a podium that sat in the center of the stage. A circular plaque reading President of Waverwell with the green bear in the middle hung on the front of the podium.


    "Hey, Sin." Charlotte made her way over to where Cynthia stood, just off to the side of the stage.


    "You look wonderful." Charlotte had changed into a flowing dress that ended a few inches above her knees. The material was soft beneath Cynthia''s fingers as she leaned in for a quick kiss.


    "Ready for the press conference?"


    "Yes, yes I am."


    "Breathe, Sin. You''ve got this. Take a deep breath." Cynthia gave a small smile. She nodded, complying with Charlotte''s words and taking a few slow, deep breaths.


    "Mrs. President! We''re ready. The cameras have all been set up, and the reporters are all here. Everything''s ready to go. Are you ready?" Someone approached, adjusting their glasses. Cynthia took another breath.


    "Yes, I am."


    xxxx


    Cynthia stepped up to the stage, walking across it until she reached the podium, where she set her stack of papers down. The low murmur of voices fell silent, and everyone turned to face her. She looked out over the crowd. Reporters lined the barrier between the stage and everyone else, microphones and cameras in hand. Camera crews filmed her every movement, and she knew everyone who had turned their televisions to Waverwell News were watching her.


    "Good evening, everyone," she began, after adjusting the microphone so it was level with her mouth and taking yet another deep breath to slow her heart. "Thank you for gathering here today, whether you are here with me in person or at home, wherever you may be residing.


    "As you likely know by now, a body was discovered earlier today in Silverlight Forest. There are still many unknowns at this moment in time and I know many of you are afraid, but I want to assure you that this is being investigated thoroughly and no one working on the case will stop until those responsible have been brought to justice. I have brought Larson Hotch from the Moonfall Precinct to discuss this further. And if you have any information, please reach out to the Moonfall Precinct. Their website is MoonfallPrecinct.com. Nothing is too small, and they will follow up on every lead and tip they receive.


    "Now, please welcome Larson Hotch to the stage." Cynthia waved him toward her.


    "Thank you, Mrs. President. Like President Cynthia Corville said, my name is Larson Hotch. I am the lead detective at the Moonfall Precinct. Earlier today, the body of Ashley Baok was found in Silverlight Forest. He was a member of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, a group connected to Waverwell government. We are still in the very beginning stages of our investigation and there is still much to be found out, but rest assured that we will work tirelessly to figure out who is responsible and get justice for Ashley Baok. We will be transparent about what we are doing, just like we are for any case we work. And with President Cynthia Corville''s assistance, a team has been put together to investigate this case, and we will be working together to hold those responsible accountable for their actions in the murder of Ashley Baok.


    "And like President Cynthia Corville said, if you believe you have any information, please submit a tip through out website, Moonfall Precinct.com. You can also follow the link through our bio on our Muse page at MoonfallPrecinctOfficial. Thank you."


    Larson moved a few steps to the side and let Cynthia stand at the podium again. "Now, who has questions?" She asked. Every one of the reporters'' hands went up.


    "Yes, you. Red shirt, off to the right side, short hair."


    "Hello, Mrs. President. I''m Henry from Did You Hear?! and my question is this: Who is on the team?"


    "Thank you for your question, Henry. At this time, we will not be releasing the names of those on this team."


    "Mrs. President! I''m Kevin, also from Did You Hear?! Who will be leading the investigation into Ashley Baok''s murder?"


    "Thank you for your question, Kevin. The team will be working alongside the Moonfall Precinct. They will be working with each other, although Larson Hotch will be leading the investigation."


    "Larson Hotch! My name is Laura, and I am from Waverwell News. You were the one who helped put together the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. Now, Ashley Baok is dead. Do you think someone is targeting the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"


    Cynthia allowed Larson to stand at the podium. "Thank you for your question, Laura. I cannot say at this time since we are still very early in our investigation."


    "Detective Larson Hotch! I''m Yan from Waverwell News. You have spent your career in law enforcement, but you are still new to Moonfall and the Moonfall Precinct. Do you think that will have any effect as you lead the investigation?"


    "Thank you for your question. While I am still fairly new to Moonfall and its area, that fact will not have any effect on the investigation. There is a team from the Moonfall Precinct working on this case, not just me, as well as the team President Cynthia Corville has put together that will be assisting us."


    "Mrs. President! I am Oliver from Did You Hear?! You have mentioned that the team will be assisting the Moonfall Precinct. Why not just take over the whole case?"


    "Thank you for your question, Oliver. The Moonfall Precinct is very skilled at investigating crimes and figuring out who is responsible. The purpose of the team is to have a variety of people with skills that compliment each other all looking at the facts."


    "Mrs. President, one last question! This is Henry again, from Did You Hear?! Why create a team for this murder and not others? When you ran for President of Waverwell, you vowed to better Waverwell, to protect the still-wild spaces and keep the wealthy from deepening their pockets and doing nothing to help the underserved communities. Why create a team for this murder but not others? What was different about it? Was it because Ashley Baok was a member of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, something you helped create? Do you have a personal interest in the case?


    "Thank you for your question, Henry. Yes, Ashley Baok was a member of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, which was something I helped create. That does give me a personal connection to the case, but the reason I decided to put together the team to assist the Moonfall Precinct was because I wanted to assist in the investigation. Ashley Baok''s murder was one of the worst in the history of Waverwell. I want to ensure something like this never happens again. When I was elected as the President of Waverwell, I vowed that I would better our country. And part of how I will better our country is by ensuring that crimes like this do not happen. This team will assist the Moonfall Precinct in their investigation, and they will not stop until Ashley Baok gets justice. And once what happened is figured out, I will make sure it never happens again. One time is too many times, but I will make sure it doesn''t happen again."


    "Thank you all for coming, whether here in-person or from your homes, wherever you may be residing. Good night, Waverwell."


    xxxx


    By the time that Cynthia reached her room, exhaustion weighed on her like a hundred-pound blanket that threatened to smother her.


    A massive bed stood in the middle of the room, while a closet took up a good portion of the opposite wall. A painted cityscape of Corville hung in an elaborate frame over the bed. Light from Corville and the moon filtered through the closed blinds covering the window and peeked through the cracked door to the bathroom.


    Cynthia and Charlotte barely spoke as they changed into pajamas and began winding down for the night. The clock inched closer to midnight by the time they climbed into bed. Charlotte sat down on the right side and set a glass of water on her bedside table, while Cynthia opened the drawer on her bedside table and took out a stack of letters and a pen.


    "Lights out?" Charlotte asked.


    "No, I''m going to write a letter to the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. I want to say what we''re doing."


    "Ok. I''m going to sleep though."


    "Goodnight, Char. Sleep well."


    "You too, Sin." They exchanged a kiss, and Charlotte shut off her bedside light before she curled up.


    The blank sheet of paper she held loomed, a space so big she wasn''t sure how she''d fill it. Besides, what could she possibly say? Nothing could make the death of a brother or friend any better. She knew who each of them were ¡ªshe''d helped create the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit¡ª but she didn''t know any of them personally. Apart from Ferris Dipper, she''d only met them a handful of times. That hardly counted as knowing someone, much less being close with someone, knowing who they really were.


    Cynthia leaned back bed with a sigh, resting on the pillows she stacked against the headboard. She clicked the back of her pen several times before settling down and starting to write:


    Hello, Ferris Dipper, Charlie Springs, Kristin Baok, Zip Furr, and Ren


    I wanted to offer my deepest condolences after hearing of Ashley Baok''s murder. I cannot imagine what you are all going through right now. If there is anything I can offer to help you through this time, please do not hesitate to reach out, either through mail or an email. You can also reach out through my Muse account, PresidentofWaverwell, though it may take longer to reach me, as I do not run that account and the messages are looked through very infrequently.


    As was mentioned in the Waverwell News press conference, a team has been put together to figure out exactly what happened in Ashley Baok''s murder and what caused it. They will assist the Moonfall Precinct, and will communicate with you directly as well. What I did not mention and what the general public does not yet know is that the leaders are the sisters Asa and Azrael Smith. They are some of the best detectives in Waverwell and have helped solve some of the toughest crimes. While I have not worked with them personally, I am confident they will be able to bring those responsible for Ashley Baok''s murder to justice.


    I ask that you please keep Asa and Azrael Smith''s names to yourselves until the members of the team are released to the public.


    If, at any time, you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please reach out, either to me, the team, or the Moonfall Precinct. I promise we will be transparent about what is going on at any time. You knew Ashley Baok better than anyone else. Especially you, Kristin Baok. As I''m sure you have heard from the Moonfall Precinct, no one will rest until Ashley Baok''s murderer is found. Ashley Baok will get the justice he deserves.


    Sincerely,


    Cynthia Corville


    President of Waverwell


    Cynthia signed beneath her printed name and title, a neat, loopy script of letters that were easily recognizable as her name: C. Corville.


    She folded the letter into neat thirds, placed it in an envelope that she sealed, and then wrote out the address and slipped it beneath her door. By the time she woke up, the letter would be gone and on its way to the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit.


    Cynthia returned to bed and cuddled up next to Charlotte, who groggily rolled over and slung an arm over her side, only waking up enough to move and utter a low goodnight.


    "Goodnight as well, Char." Dreamland claimed Cynthia shortly after.

 NYTE - Chapter 8 - Ferris Dipper - The Books Arent in the Right Order

    Chapter 8


    FERRIS DIPPER


    Ferris Dipper didn''t want to see another body. Human or animal. But especially human. Both made his heart break, cracks splintering across the surface like a spider''s web. But there was something different when it was a human body. Something that made the pain just a little sharper. Made the loss a little stronger. Made that ache in your chest just a little deeper.


    Seeing Ashley''s body lay on the tray, pale and lifeless, felt like claws tore through his chest, shredding his skin and turning his heart to ribbons.


    Ferris didn''t know how long they had been at the Moonfall Precinct, but a glance at his watch told him it was nearing 4 in the morning. In any other circumstance, Ferris would be dead on his feet and likely about to fall asleep. But right now, he didn''t feel an ounce of exhaustion.


    The group was still, rarely moving and rarely speaking. Everyone held their tongue. What could they say? Nothing could make it better. Nothing could bring Ashley back.


    Kristin never strayed from Ashley''s side. Zip lurked in the corner, hands tapping against his thighs. Ren kept their back to the wall opposite the doorway, halfway between relaxed and about to bolt, and adjusted their headphones every so often. Charlie leaned back in her chair, shifting in her position on it every few minutes and rocking in it. Ferris leaned back against the wall opposite where Ashley lay and crossed his arms across his chest.


    No one made any move to leave. Once they did, the next time they would see Ashley would be at his funeral. Even then, they may not see him; Ferris didn''t know what requests Ashley had made for when he died. Or, if he hadn''t, what Kristin would choose to have done.


    When Ferris''s mind threatened to send him down the rabbit hole of unwanted memories, he dug his nails into his palms and let the pain distract him. He focused on it, let the sensation wash over him as his nerves cried out. He let the dizziness and brain fog from his concussion take center stage in his mind. He wouldn''t go down memory lane right now. He couldn''t.


    Ferris knew they''d leave when Kristin decided to, and that until then they''d be there.


    Kristin drew in a sharp breath, breaking the smothering silence that hung in the room.


    "Why? Why, Ashley? Why''d you have to go? What were you doing out in the forest? You were supposed to be in Moonfall, not Myway Highway. Why, Ashley?


    "It was us. The two of us in Cat''s Cradle against the rest of Waverwell. Just us. You and me. Can''t I get another one of your hugs? Hear you tell me it''ll all be ok just one more time? Get to see you just one more time? Get to say goodbye while your heart''s still beating?" Kristin tightened his hands into fists and his knuckles turned white. He choked on a sob, back hitting the wall as he slowly slid down. Ferris''s eyes burned.


    "Why you? Why you and not me, Ashley? What''s so different about us that make it you who had to die and not me? Why am I still here and you''re not?"


    Kristin kicked out a leg and the chair next to him went skittering across the ground, falling over backwards and coming to a rest on its side.


    "Why?" Kristin looked up, eyes pleading.


    Ferris felt his heart break. He wished he had an answer. He wished he''d had one two years ago when his dads died. Slow tears rolled down his cheeks.


    "Why?" He repeated, his voice sharp. His fingers flexed like he was about to hit something, and they curled into his hair as his lip raised and flashed his teeth. He rose to a crouch that reminded Ferris of a coyote in a trap. Terrified, fear coursing through every vein, yet spitfire anger serving as a shield. But then Kristin''s anger sputtered out, and he curled up, knees to his chest and head buried in his arms. He gave Charlie a mangled no when she asked if he wanted a hug, and she remained in her chair.


    "Remember that time when we spent the night in that alleyway, Ashley," Kristin said. Ferris froze, wondering if he should leave but he couldn''t get his limbs to work so he settled for staying silent and still. "We had to be like eight or nine. Old enough to remember but still young enough to feel so naive. We were both so terrified that someone would find us that we hid behind a stack of boxes, huddling together and refusing to let sleep claim us. It was cold. That damp kind of cold that chilled you to the bone and settled in to stay. Every sound had us jumping a mile in the air, and neither of us dared to move. You kept whispering to me that it would all be ok. Nothing bad could ever last forever, no matter how much it felt like it could. Even the longest of nights came to an end. The sun would always rise again. You told me that over and over. Nothing lasts forever, the sun will rise, it will all be ok. We held each other tight, and then the night ended. The sun peeked over the shabby buildings on the outskirts of Cat''s Cradle. Fiery rays of orange and red that lit up the greys and browns of Cat''s Cradle. It looked like a surreal painting with how devoid of color Cat''s Cradle looked and how bright the sun seemed.


    "I dragged you out from behind the boxes and out into the street. We ran out to the bluffs to watch the sun rise over Waverwell, and it felt like the most amazing thing ever, even though we were still in Cat''s Cradle, still just trying to survive, and it was just a sunrise. It was like just for a moment, the briefest of moments, everything was ok. It was just us, the bluffs, and the sun. The grasses brushing against our legs, my hand in yours, and the sun warming our skin as it rose over the horizon."


    Kristin tilted his head back. Tears swam in his dark eyes. His voice was low, even. Almost as if he were telling a secret. "The next time I felt anything even remotely similar to that was the night after we caught our first offender. Ferris and Zip brought him to the Precinct, while the rest of us made dinner. We spent the evening celebrating our little victory. It felt like flying. I''ve never been flying, but it sure felt like I was. It wasn''t like that morning on the bluffs, but it still felt like hope, you know? Like everything would be ok. We''d caught one offender. What we were doing was working.


    "But now what? Clearly it wasn''t working. You''re d-. You-. You. You''re... You''re gone, Ashley. What are we supposed to do now? You''re not here. We were supposed to look out for each other, Ashley. We were supposed to look out for each other! How are we supposed to do that if you''re gone?


    "I couldn''t keep you safe. And now you''re gone. And now I''ll never get anything more with you. You''re my brother, Ashley. We looked out for each other. We hugged each other when things got tough. Told each other that it would all be ok. To keep fighting because nothing can last forever. No matter how dark things get, they''ll always get better.


    "I wish you were here, Ashley. How are we supposed to keep going if you''re not? Please, just wake up. You need to be here, Ashley. I-I... I need you. I need you. Please, just wake up."


    Kristin looked up at where Ashley lay and took his brother''s hand in his own.


    Ferris felt like he was sitting in on the most private of interactions. He wasn''t sure if he should''ve stayed or if he should''ve covered his ears.


    "We''re going to have to leave him, aren''t we?"


    "We''re going to, aren''t we," Kristin repeated when no one responded.


    "We''ll stay here for as lo-." Ferris winced, unsure what to say because nothing could make it better.


    "Answer my question."


    "We-. I... Yes, we will, but we can stay for as long as you need."


    "Stop acting so selfless. I know he meant something to you as well. We worked together for a year. Don''t treat me like some porcelain doll you''re afraid will break. It''ll just make me lash out. You can come closer to him. I won''t bite. Say your goodbyes or whatever. God, why''d he have to die? Why''d someone have to take his life? Why him?"


    "I... I don''t know. S-someone was... evil. We''ll... we''ll find them." It was the first time Zip spoke since shutting down. His voice was soft, and he rocked on the balls of his feet.


    "What time is it?"


    "It''s about 4:30," Ren said. They adjusted their watch on their wrist.


    "How am I going to leave him?" Kristin got to his feet and clasped one of Ashley''s hands between his own.


    Ferris''s heart ached and he closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. Once again, his mind teetered on the edge of diving into memories he didn''t want to relive. He gritted his teeth and stayed in the present.


    "God, how am I supposed to say goodbye?" Kristin''s voice cracked. A tear rolled down Ferris''s cheek, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.


    "He... he won''t really be gone. Y-you... you have the... memories of him, an-and his stuff." Zip''s eyes wandered over the room, pausing on Kristin.


    "It''s not him. It didn''t even cross my mind that I''d have to say goodbye now. I''d always assumed we''d be old. Maybe married, if we ever chose to. But I''d assumed we''d be old and grey. Not young, like we are now."


    xxxx


    Ferris approached Ashley from the side opposite Kristin. He didn''t come up and touch Ashley like Kristin had done, but instead stopped a foot or two back.


    His first interaction with the twin brothers had been in Moonfall, when he talked with them about joining the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit.


    It had been a pure stroke of luck that Ferris had crossed their paths. The three of them just so happening to be in the same place at the same time.


    Ferris had been sitting at the table next to theirs while eating in Jonathan''s Subs, a sandwich shop in Moonfall. Ashley had leaned over and asked him what he knew about Moonfall. They were new in town and were looking for a place to stay. Ferris originally had lied and said he was renting a house on the outskirts, honestly closer to Sunrise than it was Moonfall, and that there was a small motel near there that might have some open rooms. But after inviting the two of them over to his table and chatting with them for what wound up being almost an hour, he realized that they were both what he was looking for and he opened up and told them about the idea of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. Ashley''s eyes had lit up, although he asked if he and his brother could discuss it.


    The following day Kristin and Ashley tracked Ferris down and said that they''d love to join, just that they had some questions.


    Most of how successful the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit had been was luck. Luck that Cynthia Corville had said yes and was able to secure the funding for it. Luck that Ferris had run into the five other members. Luck that they were all able to work together so well. Luck that they hadn''t run into too many big hurdles.


    Until now.


    Ashley had been murdered.


    The SFPU had managed to keep a pretty low profile, mostly being known by the Waverwell government. Poachers and offenders, too, who knew that if they ventured into the Silverlight Forest to poach, that they''d be hunted and arrested by the SFPU.


    Poachers had shot at them before. Ferris had been hit in the shoulder, where he still had a small scar. But none had tried to do anything even remotely similar to what Ashley had been through. It was obvious to Ferris that he had been tortured. Whoever had murdered him had not intended for his death to be a quick one.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    And that left Ferris wondering who and why?


    Who could''ve done this? Why would they do this? What was the reason? What drove someone to do this to Ashley?


    Ferris gritted his teeth. The last time he''d seen a dead body belonging to a human was when he''d seen the bodies of his fathers. His mind kept flickering back to the memories, and Ferris strained to keep himself from free-falling into them. He didn''t want to think about that. Not now.


    xxxx


    Another half hour passed by, and Ferris retreated back to the wall opposite where Ashley lay. Ren took Ferris''s place beside Ashley. They wiped a few tears from their eyes, and their mouth moved in silent words.


    "What are you saying, Ren?" Kristin lifted his head to look at Ren.


    "I''m telling him that I hope he''s doing ok... and that he''s-he''s somewhere nice. I told him that we''ll find who did this, as well."


    "Is... is he doing ok? How could he be doing ok, if-. If he''s not here? He''s d-d-d. He''s dead." Kristin''s voice cracked and he stared with pleading eyes at his brother.


    "I don''t know," Ren said. "I don''t know. I''m... I''m trying to figure out what I''m feeling. I thought that perhaps if I talked to him that I might be able to do that. Well, not talk to him but to his body... I don''t know."


    "Did it work?"


    "No. Not yet, at least."


    "I-..." Kristin''s jaw clenched and he chewed on his lip. "How do I leave? I can''t say goodbye, but we can''t stay here forever. He''s not going to wake up, is he? Don''t... don''t answer that. Rhetorical question. Should we go? I don''t want to leave him, but they''ve got to look at him, right? Look at him for their... reports and stuff?"


    Ferris didn''t mention that they''d probably already done that. Looked at Ashley''s body for any evidence, catalogued every wound. He''d had to make rationalizations to get himself to leave the bodies of his fathers, even though he knew they weren''t really true. And a part of him hoped for months after their deaths that they''d walk through the front door and tell him it was just a nightmare, be sitting on the couch when he walked out of his room and ask him if he''d like to watch a show. He still sometimes did, despite knowing it was false. They were dead, and nothing he did could change that, though he''d still give almost anything to be able to feel the warmth of their hugs again, hear their voices, spend even just a few moments in their comforting presences.


    "We should go, right? Yeah? Should we go? I can''t... but they need to... look him over, right?" Desperation and despair were written so strongly across Kristin''s face that they may have well been tattooed there. Ferris froze, torn between telling Kristin what he knew he wanted to hear and telling him what was likely the truth. How could he lie at a time like this?


    "I don''t know if they looked him over," Charlie said. "But if you would like to go, we can."


    Kristin started to walk toward the door, but only made it a few steps before stopping. He ran his hands over his face and dug his fingers into his hair. He drew in a shaky breath, curling his lips as he choked on a sob. "I can''t leave him. How am I supposed to say goodbye?"


    "I don''t know," Ferris said. "I wish I could tell you, but I don''t know. There''s no easy answers for something like this."


    "My legs are frozen. I can''t get myself to leave, but I know I can''t stay here forever."


    "We''ll let you have some time alone with Ashley. We''ll be just outside the door if you need anything. Take as long as you need." Ferris waved his hand, and Charlie, Ren, and Zip followed him out the door. He shut it as quietly as he could behind him.


    xxxx


    "Who could do such a thing?" The door was barely shut before Charlie spat the words, eyes flashing. "Has the Moonfall Precinct found who did it yet?"


    "Charlie, Ashley was murdered last night. Or, two nights ago, actually. It''s the next day. Investigations take time."


    "Well, they should take less time!"


    "I wish it were that easy."


    "How the hell are you so calm, Ferris? Are you not bothered by the fact that Ashley was murdered? Huh? Do you not care?"


    "I do care," Ferris murmured, trying to not take Charlie''s snapping words personally. "I care a lot and I will do everything I possibly can to ensure whoever is responsible is brought to justice. I am angry, frustrated, and honestly a bit confused. I want to know why someone did this. What their reason was. What caused them to do this to Ashley."


    "S-someone was... evil. That''s-that''s why. Y-you''re good... or you''re bad. They''re... they''re bad." Zip shrugged, gaze staring at the ground and fingers tapping together in an even rhythm.


    "They''re not just evil, they''re monsters. No person could do that to someone else. Only a monster could do that kind of thing." Charlie''s eyes widened, and fear mixed with fury swirled in their sunflower depths.


    "We''ll find them. They cannot hide forever, and we will never stop hunting them. We''ll help the Moonfall Precinct however we can, and we will find them."


    The four of them remained in silence after that and hung by the walls. Someone passed by them, and when they recognized the group they uttered rushed condolences before hurrying past.


    Another ten or fifteen minutes passed by before Kristin inched the door open. His expression was somber and his posture was tense. His knuckles were white around the doorknob and he froze on the threshold between the room and the hallway.


    "I-I-I... I can''t-." Kristin trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his mouth to muffle a sob.


    "Do you want a hug?" Kristin''s gaze snapped to Ren for a few moments before he looked away.


    "Yeah," he murmured so softly Ferris almost couldn''t hear him.


    Ren wrapped their arms around Kristin. He lowered his chin to their shoulder. Charlie moved in and embraced the two of them, and Ferris followed suit. Zip placed his hand on Kristin''s back, standing closer than he usually did.


    "Let me pull... pull the car up to the f-front. I''ll be... just a-a-a f-few minutes." Zip ducked his head before disappearing down the hallway they''d walked in through.


    "Are you ready, Kristin?"


    "I... ye-yeah." Kristin took the tissue Ren offered and wiped at his eyes.


    Ferris lead the way down the hallway, retracing his steps to find his way out. None of them said anything. They passed by a few people who gave sympathetic looks. When they reached the front desk, the space thankfully only held a handful of people. Just as they exited, Zip rolled up in the car. "I... I''m not supposed to be parked here," he said as Ferris opened the passenger door for Kristin. "I... C-can we hurry? I don''t... I don''t want a ticket."


    "If they give you a ticket, I''ll shred it in front of them. You''re not getting one, Zip." Kristin''s voice was hoarse.


    "Ok."


    "Everyone buckled?" Charlie asked. She took the middle seat again, leaving Ferris and Ren on either side of her. Ferris noticed how she sat far closer to him than she did Ren but didn''t comment. It wasn''t like he really minded. He appreciated the comforting warmth of her presence, the faint heat of her body he could notice if he payed enough attention.


    "I believe so," he replied.


    Zip steered the car out of the parking lot and then on to the main roads of Moonfall.


    Kristin curled up in his seat, pulling his knees to his chest. He stared blankly out the window as they drove past the various shops, restaurants, and houses that made up Moonfall.


    Trees grew taller and more frequently, and then Zip turned onto the dirt road that led to the camp. The car bounced over rocks and across potholes, jostling everyone inside. A squirrel darted out of the way, and low-hanging branches scratched at the roof. Shrubbery grew in lush greens and blanketed the ground like a carpet. A few deer scampered off the road when Zip drew too close for their comfort. The trunks of several trees along the route to the camp held ribbons, little markers for where Zip planned to construct camera traps. Only about half of Silverlight Forest had them assembled, and he intended for the entirety to be guarded by them. Assistance, since the SFPU''s eyes couldn''t be everywhere at once.


    xxxx


    The camp didn''t look the same. Nothing had changed, but, at the same time, something had changed. The air of it felt different. Like someone were holding their breath. Like that something that made the difference between house and home wasn''t there.


    Ferris knew exactly what was different, what was missing. But it didn''t make it any easier. Didn''t make the pain any less.


    He opened the door for Kristin again and then unlocked the door to the SFPU''s home. Charlie scooped up her salad off the coffee table and finished off the last few bites before she went rummaging through the cupboards. Kristin slammed the door shut to his room, and Ferris thought he heard the lock click. Zip didn''t come into the house, instead driving the car across the courtyard, parking it in the garage, and settling down in his work station attached to the garage. Ren hung up their coat and then went to go check on the dogs and make sure Morpheus was doing ok.


    "What are we going to do?" Charlie leaned back against the counter as she pried open a box of crackers. Her eyes were distant as she took a bite of one.


    "We''ll find who did this and get justice for Ashley." Ferris sat down on the couch. The adrenaline from learning of Ashley''s murder was beginning to wear off and he was starting to feel the effects of the concussion Pyr gave him again. He placed a pillow behind his head and laid down.


    "You doing ok?"


    "Yeah, just a bit dizzy."


    "Concussion?"


    Ferris nodded. "Yeah."


    "Want me to get you some water?"


    "I''m alright, but thanks."


    "When was the last time you had water?" Charlie raised a knowing eyebrow.


    Ferris hesitated.


    "That''s what I thought," Charlie said. "Hold tight. I''ll get you some. Probably should get some for me as well. I think I forgot to drink water most of yesterday. Certainly haven''t had any today."


    "Thanks," Ferris said when Charlie handed him a glass. He sat up and took a sip. She took the space next to him on the couch.


    "How are things going to go with the SFPU? It''s not going to be the same," he said.


    "No, they''re not. We''ll have to keep tracking down poachers and remove snares and such. But it won''t be the same. It doesn''t feel real. It feels like..." Charlie trailed off.


    "A nightmare that you can''t wake up from? Like someone has taken your fears and has brought them to life like some twisted puppeteer?"


    "Yeah, somethin'' like that."


    "Do you think he''s... like, in a better place or something?" Ferris twisted the glass in his fingers, resting his elbows on his knees.


    "Do I think Ashley is in a better place?" Charlie shifted to face him.


    "Yeah."


    "I don''t know. I''ve never really believed in any sort of afterlife. You know, like, you''re dead and that''s it; you''re done. But I never really gave it much thought or decided there wasn''t one, that it didn''t exist. Just that there wasn''t one, that it did exist. I suppose there could be. I mean, you''ll never know whether it does or doesn''t until you die. If there is some sort of afterlife, I hope it''s someplace nice and that he''s alright."


    "Me too." Ferris stared at his reflection in the water. God, I really hope he''s someplace better than here. Far, far away from whoever murdered him.


    We''ll find them, Ashley. We''ll find whoever''s responsible for your murder. We''ll get justice for you.


    "Books!" Charlie leapt off the couch, setting down her glass so fast, water splashed out the sides and onto the coffee table.


    "Books?" Ferris echoed. He placed his glass next to hers.


    "Yeah, books. I need to return the books I stole ¡ªwell, temporarily stole¡ª from Ashley. It was this thing we had going on between the two of us. I''d take some of his books and he''d then ask for them back. I always gave them back but usually when he was out or something. You know, like he''d come back to his room and then there they were, waiting for him. And I''d be like, ''did you not see them? They were always there'' and stuff. We both knew I''d taken them. It was just this, like, banter bet-."


    "Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. It''s ok. We all knew about that. Need a hand?"


    "Are you sure you''re ok to do that?"


    "Yeah, I''ll be fine."


    "Ok."


    Charlie had temporarily stolen several of Ashley''s books. Most of them were about plants and animals, but a few were popular works of fiction trending amongst Waverwell''s book lovers. Ferris took the ones that Charlie handed him and then followed her two doors to the left to Ashley''s room.


    Charlie''s room in the SFPU house had been arranged to have maximum space, pushing her bed, dresser, and cabinet packed with everything she''d collected that she wished to keep up against the walls and having nothing else in her room, leaving her with a big open space in the middle. But Ashley''s room had been arranged to have maximum space for books, not an open area. He had kept the bed and dresser given to everyone in the SFPU and had added as many rows of shelves as he could possibly fit into his little room. Had shelves above his bed not been a safety hazard, Ferris knew he would''ve put several on the wall. Every shelf was packed with books, more than really should have been on there. And his dresser had growing stacks that piled high.


    Charlie set the books on Ashley''s bed. It wasn''t made; the only time Ferris had seen it made was when Cynthia Corville had come to visit, though his door was often left closed. Charlie then examined the rows and stacks of books. She traced along the spines, searching for something Ferris wasn''t sure of. "Need help?" He asked.


    "No, just give me a... moment-. Wait, that''s not right."


    "What''s going on?"


    "Something''s not right. These books are out of order."


    "What''s the order?"


    "It changes. See, Ashley would arrange the books. A different rule for each row. You know, descending order by height of spine. Alphabetical order by author''s first name. Reverse alphabetical order by third word in the title. Something like that. He''d rearrange them every so often so when I returned I''d have to figure out the new orders and place books where they belonged. There would be clues for where each book went. One upside down, further out, whatever so I''d know where to put the books. But they''re out of order. See here? They''re ordered based on shades of blue from lightest to darkest, but here the darkest shade of blue is in the middle. And here? They''re series where each series is arranged alphabetically by first word in the title, but the last book is always first when they shouldn''t be first." Charlie pointed out the rows. How she noticed the order the books were in so quickly, Ferris didn''t know, but if she''d been doing this as often as it sounded, he guessed she''d be pretty good at picking up on patterns in the shelves.


    "Did Ashley ever mess up?"


    "No, never. He made them and never messed up. I know it was intentional."


    "Why would he do that?"


    "I don''t know." Charlie chewed on her lip.


    A wave of dizziness hit Ferris and he sat down on the edge of Ashley''s bed, careful not to disturb the books or his blankets. Charlie''s eyebrows were furrowed, and she scanned the shelves. Ferris had seen her like this before. Sucked into whatever she was working on. Devoted entirely to it, to the point she was so absorbed by it that a train could barrel by and she might not blink. Whatever she was working on, she''d complete. He didn''t say anything, instead just sitting back and letting her work. She''d be able to figure it out. Ferris had hardly ever been in Ashley''s room and hadn''t known Ashley sorted his books before now.


    It was only another few minutes before Charlie broke the silence. "There!"


    "What is it?"


    "I knew Ashley had a reason for messing up the patterns!"


    "What''s the reason?" Ferris stood up again, catching his balance before moving to stand beside Charlie.


    "He was leaving a little message for me to find. He wanted me to find this book." She pointed at one. The spine was made from worn leather. High quality but like it had been made years ago and was well-loved.


    "Pockets of Gold and Silver," Ferris read, bending down to get a better look at it. The letters appeared to have been handwritten.


    "We should go get Kristin. Ren and Zip, too."


    "Yeah, we should."

 NYTE - Chapter 9 - Chad Malcolm - We Need a Wont Be, Not a Shouldnt Be

    Chapter 9


    CHAD MALCOLM


    No one really liked Cat''s Cradle. Given the choice, many would choose to just about anywhere else in Waverwell. The buildings were one light breeze from toppling over like dominos, and many of them were little more than four walls, a door, and possibly a window that seemed so hastily built that a child might have done it. The streets were always wet and one had to be careful to look out for cars driving by to avoid being drenched with muddy water. The stores never offered any outstanding food or clothes, and anything they did sell could be found elsewhere at a higher quality and a lower price.


    And it was always raining. Always. A perpetual drizzle that never seemed to have an end in sight. A shower that left people irritated and grouchy by the end of the day, complaining about how their clothes stuck to their skin and how their shoes squeaked with each step. There would be a handful of days each year where the weather let up and was mildly pleasant, perhaps a light mist, but every other day was the same drizzle that just never, ever relented.


    But there was one thing that kept people returning to Cat''s Cradle. One thing that let them forget about everything they might''ve disliked about the city. One thing that kept them not quite itching to come back, but certainly open to the idea.


    That is... money. Lots of it.


    xxxx


    The afternoon bled into the evening as Chad travelled from Corville to Cat''s Cradle.


    He and Darcy had gotten into arguments over driving. He enjoyed it; it let him think uninterrupted. But Darcy preferred being chauffeured around. They had the money, why not enjoy the luxury? Why deal with something as mundane as driving a car? Sometimes Chad allowed their chauffeur to bring him places. But the trip to Cat''s Cradle was something he always insisted he do alone.


    It was raining as Chad drove up the larger of the Twin Peaks, and it was raining as he passed the welcome sign that was located at both of the roads that led into Cat''s Cradle, one from Corville and one from Dal, and it was raining as he pulled into a spot in the back alleyway of the Night Owl, and it was raining as he stepped out of his car and walked toward the back entrance, a small door hidden behind a series of trash cans.


    He could faintly hear the music pulsing through the air from within the building.


    The Night Owl, a nightclub and gambling den, was owned by Chad, and it also doubled as the actual headquarters of Leviathan Inc., although only a select few knew that. It was two levels. The first had been divided into two by a lengthy bar offering a wide variety of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks that could pique the interest of anyone, no matter their tastes. On one side bodies twisted and twirled in dance, lit up by pulsing and flashing lights. And on the other, well-loved tables hosted games where money was won and lost by the thousands. Many games were played, but those exact tables were where one game in particular, the pride of Cat''s Cradle, was created.


    Its name was Striker. How the name came to be was a mystery no one had been able to figure out, though Chad had always guessed the name had been coined since it was infamous for causing players to ''strike out'' on their chips. The card game itself was relatively simple: get the threes. Multiples of three could win the game, but threes would trump anything. Yet it was notoriously easy to lose if one didn''t know how to play well.


    Striker quickly grew to be the most popular of games played in Cat''s Cradle, especially in the Night Owl, leading to tense games that lasted for hours. Those games brought in no shortage of profits for Chad, Darcy, and the Night Owl; to play, one needed the special Night Owl chips ¡ªfound and sold nowhere else in Cat''s Cradle or the greater Waverwell¡ª which could be bought in stacks of ten and were equivalent to five Corvilles each. To buy them, though, cost one hundred Corvilles. Of course, some players walked out with far more than they spent on the chips, but many walked out with less, having lost whatever games they''d played.


    Most players chased the dream of achieving the fortune one of the first players did. No one knew who he was, but he''d walked in with the minimum one hundred Corvilles and left with over seven hundred thousand. Chad had tried to figure out who he was and pulled many strings, but he''d never been able to get a name. No one had recognized him, and once he won the game, he''d weaseled his way through the crowd and slipped out the door. He hadn''t been seen since that night.


    Chad hugged the wall, staying away from the tables so as not to disturb the atmosphere. The air was thrumming with tension so high one could almost cut it with a knife, though the faces of everyone playing were so still they may have well been made from stone. Yet as soon as he passed the bar, ducking through heavy curtains that kept much of the blaring music from reaching the tables behind him, and stepped onto the dance floor, any evidence of the tension was gone, and what remained was pulsing energy and a sea of churning bodies, limbs arcing through the air in both graceful and clumsy moves.


    The second floor of the Night Owl mirrored his floor in the Leviathan Inc. headquarters in Corville almost exactly; walls sparsely decorated with abstract paintings and sconce lights illuminating the space to give it a professional feel. The second floor was about a quarter of the size of the first and only allowed for a handful of rooms, but since Chad''s office was the only one regularly used, there hadn''t been a reason to expand it, although Chad doubted he would even if more space was needed. The Night Owl was already an unusual building in Cat''s Cradle, being that it had two floors. Adding on to it and making it bigger would draw more attention.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    It was on the second floor of the Night Owl that most of the real work for Leviathan Inc. was done.


    The first ideas for Arkreon were born at his desk, in a meeting with only a handful of people. He and Darcy were there, as was Malibu. The rest had since died.


    Chad opened the door to his office and was greeted with three figures leaning against his desk; two women and a man. One of the women had smooth black hair tied back in a ponytail and wore a violet jacket. The other had frizzy hair and bright blue eyes accentuated with golden makeup, though her face was shaded by a dark hat. The man''s face was mostly covered by a grey bandana, and his muscled arms were crossed over his chest, giving him an intimidating appearance similar to that of a looming oak tree. But Chad schooled his features and calmly dead-bolted his door and fastened the chain lock.


    "Hello," he said. "How are you doing?"


    "That''s really not necessary," replied the woman in violet. "We completed the job. Per our rules, complete first, don''t ask questions, the questions come later. The only reason we ask is to keep track of our business and where we might alter our strategies to ensure we are working as efficiently as possible and identify possible avenues to grow our business. Now, what exactly was the reason behind your request?"


    "I want the introduction of Arkreon to go as smoothly as possible. Now bumps in the road. Arkreon is the future of energy in Waverwell. I cannot have anything stopping it, not when Leviathan Inc can completely change the game when it comes to energy. More efficient than coal, burns longer than coal, burns brighter than coal. Coal is the energy of yesterday, compared to Arkreon." Chad plucked a glass cube encasing a small shard of Arkreon from his desk. Light glimmered on its shiny surface, showcasing a rainbow of color as he twisted it around between his fingers.


    It had been discovered in the mines near Cloverleaf that extended deep into Spider Ridge, a spiny set of hills that held the answer to Waverwell''s energy needs: Arkreon. Once it was discovered, Chad and Darcy had been quick to funnel money into excavating Arkreon from Spider Ridge and ensure they controlled the material. We need to make sure this is done right, Chad had said. Of course, Darcy had replied. We must make sure Arkreon is the future of energy. We''ll change the world. Nothing will be the same.


    "Wonderful," the woman in violet said. "Give us the rest of our payment. Also per our rules, the payment works as half before, then half after. The job is complete, and no one knows who it was. There is no trail that leads to us or to you, nor will there be."


    "You will monitor the situation to make sure no one finds you or me."


    "Do you doubt us, Chad?" The woman tilted her head to the side. Her eyes glittered like a snake''s.


    "No, I don''t doubt you in the slightest. If I had, I wouldn''t have hired you. I simply wish to make sure no one comes nipping at our heels with unwanted questions."


    "Of course. It would be a shame if either of us got caught. But you needn''t worry. We''re very careful. Now, the other half of the money, if you please. I hope you didn''t forget."


    "Of course not. Here''s the money." Chad pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket and handed it to the woman in violet. Without glancing at it, she handed it to the man. He opened it and ruffled through it, counting the bills.


    "It''s the right amount," he said.


    "Hmm," the woman replied, eyes unreadable. Chad held her stare. "Do you have any other jobs you''d like us to complete?"


    "Not right now, I don''t. If any come up, I will reach out though."


    "Very well," the woman said. "We will be on our way. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Chad Malcolm. My best wishes to your wife, Darcy."


    "Thank you. I will pass that on." The woman gave Chad a tight-lipped smile.


    When the three left, Chad locked the door again, double checking that each was securely fastened, and then returning to his desk. He leaned back in his chair and held the small piece of Arkreon between his thumb and forefinger. "We''re changing the world," he whispered. "We are changing the world."


    Every employee who worked at Leviathan Inc. had their own computer, given the day they started and, if they left, returned on their last day. Chad and Darcy each had their own. But the computer Chad used here, in the Night Owl, was his own. It was his work-away-from-work computer.


    He typed in his passcode and unlocked it. The last email he had received was the one from the woman in violet, confirming that she would come to his office in Cat''s Cradle this evening and collect the rest of the payment. It also gave him a way to reach her in the future, if he decided to do business again. It was a pleasure working with him, and she hoped he would do business with them again. Chad saved the email to an external hard drive and then cleared his inbox.


    Darcy picked up the phone after three rings. "Hello, honey."


    "Hello, Darcy. I miss you already."


    "Aww, I do as well. When do you return?"


    "I''ll be back home tomorrow morning."


    "That long? Well, hurry back when you leave, then. I miss you."


    "I miss you as well," Chad said as he opened up the first reports on how the shifts over to Arkreon were going. "How have things been in Corville?"


    "Running smoothly. Very smoothly. There shouldn''t be any issues with shifting to Arkreon."


    "Shouldn''t be isn''t a guarantee. We can''t have any issues. We need a won''t be, not a shouldn''t be." If someone didn''t do their job how I told them to, they will be removed swiftly, he thought with a frown.


    "I know, I know. Can''t change the world if something goes wrong. Some of that is an abundance of caution, and some of it is the unknowns. Everything has been worked out as thoroughly as possible, but there''s the human factor. And, of course, if anything comes up, it will be dealt with efficiently and quickly. No one will know anything went wrong."


    "I hope not. The image of Leviathan Inc. shall remain spotless."


    "Spotless," Darcy agreed.


    "How did your meeting go?" Darcy changed the subject.


    "It went well. Everything''s dealt with and they''re fully paid so we do not have to worry about them. We''ll have to keep an eye out and make sure our tracks our clear, of course, but this should be in the past soon enough. I''ll have Malibu put someone on it."


    "We''re changing the world, Chad. We''re changing it. Our dream is so close."


    "So close," Chad echoed. A smile ghosted across his face as he twirled the sliver of Arkreon between his fingers.


    So close to our dream. So close that I can almost taste it.

 NYTE - Chapter 10 - Ashley Baok - Look in Their Eyes: Someones Home

    Chapter 10


    ASHLEY BAOK


    One Year Ago


    Sunday


    Dear Diary,


    I heard once that journaling can be fun. It can be a way to process feelings. So I decided to give it a go, give it a shot, see what I think of it. Not like anything bad can come of it, you know?


    Don''t tell anyone I said this, but I think Kristin is more excited about this whole Silverlight Forest Protection Unit thing than he''s saying. I think I''ve finally gotten him to agree. I mean, we both want to do something to ''change the world'' and all of that jazz. Helping to protect Silverlight Forest (I always thought Pocket Forest was more fun though. Maybe I''ll just call it that). Fine, you''ve convinced me, Diary. Helping to protect Pocket Forest is a way we can change the world. Besides, living in the forest sounds like fun. Who wouldn''t want to live in the trees and with animals? And, while you''re at it, you can arrest offenders who decided they''ve got nothing better than to slaughter innocent animals. I mean, who could hurt a deer or shoot a squirrel? Or kill a majestic wolf. That fluff and that intense look in their eyes? You look at them, and you know somebody''s home.


    And the people are quite nice too. I think we''ll get along. Ferris is kinda like the leader. He''s also the closest with President Cynthia Corville. (Who would''ve ever thought I''d be one step away from the President of Waverwell?!?!?!?!?!? Aaaaah! Keep me sane, Diary. I can''t believe it!!!!!!!!! No, there are never too many exclamation marks! !!!!!!!!!! There''s a few extra... just in case. But I know Ferris, and he knows the President! Maybe I''ll get to meet her? Probably not, but one can dream!) Charlie seems like the type of person who''s always bouncing off the walls. I don''t know if she could stay in one place and do nothing for more than a few moments, but she was very nice the first time I met her. Ren and Zip are both very quiet, but they''re nice as well. Everyone''s so smart, too! I almost feel out of place.


    You know, Diary, Kristin and I never really went to school. Everything we''ve learned has been from books, either ones someone gave to us or that we stole. Don''t tell the police, Diary. I like my books. Talking to people, too. We both became good at interacting with just about anyone.


    But everyone else seems to be highly educated and extremely smart. I kinda feel out of place. It''ll go ok, though. Right, Diary?


    I hope I don''t get kicked out of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. I don''t want to be the first to leave. That would be a bit lame, right?


    I hope it goes well, Diary. I want to make a difference. Protecting Pocket Forest is a way I can do that. I''m also far away from Cat''s Cradle. The furthest I could do would be somewhere in Cloverleaf, but Pocket Forest is still pretty far.


    This didn''t feel like a complete waste of time. Perhaps I''ll get into it and regularly write to you, Diary. We''ll see.


    I guess until next time, Diary.


    Ashley Baok


    P.S. Don''t tell Kristin I''m writing here yet, Diary. I want to give it a try on my own first. If I get into it, I''ll tell him. You tell him before I''m ready, I''ll burn you. And I''ll roast a marshmallow over you. And then I''ll make a s''more. And then I''d eat it. S''mores are delicious.


    P.P.S. Now I want a s''more.


    P.P.P.S. Goodness gracious, why am I threatening a diary?


    P.P.P.P.S I think if I''m going to continue with this I''ll need a new pen. Perhaps I''ll get one of those fluffy ones from the store? Like, those ones with that feathery puff ball on the end of it? Zip''s going on a supply run in a few days. Maybe I''ll ask him to pick one up for me and pay him back when he returns.


    Wednesday


    Dear Diary,


    You got me. I''m continuing with this.


    The camp is nearly set up. There''s an awful lot of ''figuring out'' with this. It''s still kinda awkward but everyone''s so agreeable and is always willing to do something if asked.


    You know the ''honeymoon'' stage of marriage? Where things feel so perfect and stuff? Yeah, that''s kinda what this feels like. No one has argued or anything. It feels like people are walking on eggshells at times.


    I did ask Zip to pick up a pen for me and he said he would. I told him to surprise me. We''ll see what he gets.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Ferris really does know Cynthia Corville. I asked him about that. He said she''s quite nice and is dedicated to what she believes in. She''s hoping to visit them camp! Aaaaaaaaah! I can''t believe it. I hope she does. I''ve never met anyone so important. It would be amazing to get to meet her. Cat''s Cradle is full of people who would cheat you out of your money without hesitation and you''ve always got to check your wallet. Just do so carefully; someone might be watching and then proceed to pickpocket you and you''d never know until you reached for said wallet to pay for something. President Cynthia Corville seems nice, though. I know people can act ¡ªI''ve seen plenty who do¡ª but I hope she''s genuine and is actually how she seems.


    We each have our own rooms. A little space for ourselves. Kristin and I slept together every night in Cat''s Cradle and have spent nearly every moment with each other. It''s weird being separated like that. Our rooms are right next to each other so we''re still close... but it still feels odd, you know?


    I must confess, Diary. I don''t think Kristin is planning on doing much with his room. We each got a bed and a dresser. I think Ferris put a desk in his, as did Zip. I''m fairly certain Charlie has rearranged her room to have as much space as she possibly can. Kristin is practical, though. I think he''s kinda become the doctor of the group. He knows the most about that. If I had to take a guess, I''d say he''ll probably wind up with some doctor supplies and such stashed somewhere in case they''re needed.


    I''m going to find all the books I can. The next time I''m going on a supply run, I''m going to pick up as many books as I can and some shelves to store them on. The SFPU gets money from Waverwell government each year to cover supplies needed to keep it running, as well as food, clothes, and the upkeep of furniture and stuff. We each get paid as well. The SFPU money covers pretty much everything we''d need so I''ve been saving most of the money I get paid. And guess what a good chunk of it is going toward, Diary? Yup, you guessed it: books! As many as I can get my hands on. I can''t wait.


    Yeah, good money skills or whatever would probably save more of it, but come on. Books. It''s education.


    I hope this ''honeymoon'' phase or whatever gets figured out. No one wants to offend anyone, but it''s created some tension. People are very careful with what they say. Of course, I don''t want anyone to get offended. But it''s made it so people are extremely careful with what they say and no one has really said no. I hope that''ll change soon, cuz I don''t think anyone''s going to be able to last like that.


    I think I''ll stay with this, Diary.


    Ashley Baok


    Saturday


    Dear Diary,


    Zip got me a new pen. He said they didn''t have any "fluffy ones with feathers" but he did find one that can fold up. He also got one with an alien on top. If you squeeze it, the eyes pop out. Who knew something like that could be so funny?


    The camp''s built. Pretty much. We''re still figuring out the whole routine. I''ve volunteered to do the supply runs pretty much every time so I can get out of dishes. Call me selfish or whatever, Diary, but I hate dishes. I''ll happily do just about anything else. And since supply runs are far less frequent than dishes, I''ll be doing many other little chores. Not laundry, though: it was a very quick, unanimous decision that everyone does their own laundry. No doing group loads where everyone''s socks get mixed up. To quote Charlie: No way in hell anyone''s touching my underwear. Haha.


    Ren doesn''t really talk much. I''m not sure why. I know they''re always listening, though. I don''t think anything goes undetected by them.


    Kristin tried his hand at cooking. He made some chicken with some sort of honey sauce. For never having cooked much, the chicken was really quite good. I''m making dinner tonight, and I have absolutely no idea what I''m going to make.


    I think I''ll go hunting around on Muse for some ideas. Maybe someone on there made something cool that is fairly easy.


    I created a Muse account earlier. AshleyTheMuseAccount is my username. I couldn''t do just Ashley since someone had already chosen it. Whatever, though. I still like AshleyTheMuseAccount so I guess win-win? Not sure if that''s really how you use that phrase... eh, whatever, it''s fine.


    Zip has gotten a prototype for a camera trap going and he''s going to start testing it tomorrow. He said he''s hoping it will be set off and alert only at people, not at animals. He said he could program it to alert at animals, too, but for the camera traps he''s making right now he wants them to alert only to people. Almost all of Pocket Forest (Silverlight Forest, if you''re fancy and are using the ''official name'' and not the ''nickname'') is protected and off-limits to everyone but official personnel. Construction crews got most of the camp built, and we''re doing the final finishing touches, and members of Waverwell government are probably gonna come here at some point. But other than that, it''s us. Anyone walking in Pocket Forest, apart from a little section off near Raconteur designated as open to the public, shouldn''t be here. Zip''s plan is to cover the forest with camera traps and set up an alert system to act as our eyes when we''re not there.


    Everyone is so smart. Ferris''s skills with organization and ensuring the SFPU''s getting funding are amazing. Charlie can rattle on for hours about any species, plant or animal, in Pocket Forest. Ren could probably train an ant to do backflips ¡ª they''re a pro at training Somnus, Morpheus, and Pyxis. And Zip... I cannot believe what he''s able to do with technology! I saw him built up a little robot in real time. Diary, I cannot tell you how awesome it was to watch him build that robot. I had no clue what he was doing. We were all sitting at the kitchen table and chatting. He''d brought a variety of wires and bits of metal and some wheels and some stuff I wouldn''t be able to identify and was fiddling with them as we talked. I was a bit distracted, and then the next thing I know this tiny little robot is zooming across the table!


    It almost feels like I don''t belong, Diary. Kristin''s great with anything doctor-related. I couldn''t tell you how many times he''d patched me up in Cat''s Cradle. But me... I don''t feel like I really belong. I don''t have a skill that I''m really good at like everyone else, you know? Perhaps I''m just being paranoid or something. Am I, Diary?


    We''ll see.


    I really hope this works, this whole SFPU thing. I hope we''re able to make it work and keep the forest safe from poachers and trappers and other offenders.


    It''ll work, right?


    Until next time, Diary. I think I am sticking with this, at least for now


    Ashley Baok

 NYTE - Chapter 11 - Kristin Baok - Caspian Lyon

    Chapter 11


    KRISTIN BAOK


    Kristin felt numb. Absolutely numb. Like someone had shot up every nerve with enough novocaine to make an elephant collapse.


    It was as if someone had pulled him from his body. If he had more energy, Kristin was sure he''d be shaking like a leaf in the wind.


    Upon reaching camp, Kristin had locked himself in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed and cradling his head in his hands. He''d pinched himself more times than he could count and had pleaded with Ashley to come back and wake him from what was surely a nightmare.


    No nightmare he''d ever had was ever that vivid, but the alternative made the shattered pieces of his heart crumble further. It must me a nightmare. It had to be.


    "Please, Ashley," he whispered, voice hoarse from crying.


    Their entire lives, they had hardly spent more than a few moments away from each other. Attached at the hip wasn''t far from the truth.


    The two days it had been since he''d last seen Ashley ¡ªalive, he thought bitterly¡ª were the longest he''d ever been away from his brother. The longest by far, and the thought of staring down the rest of his life without him terrified Kristin. He didn''t know how he''d do it. Whenever he needed anything, Ashley had been there to lend a hand, whatever it might''ve been.


    Kristin ran his hands through his hair. How the world hadn''t stopped spinning since Ashley wasn''t in it, he had no idea, but fear wrapped its talons around his chest as he began to try to think what a world without Ashley might look like. He stopped those thoughts before they could take hold.


    I can''t, Ashley, Kristin thought. I can''t do this. You''re supposed to be here. How am I supposed to live without you?


    His eyes burned and watered, though no tears fell.


    "Hey, Kristin?" Ferris''s tentative voice sounded from the other side of his door. He rapped his knuckle against it a few times.


    "Yeah?" Kristin managed to croak after a few moments.


    "Charlie and I found something you should probably see. It''s a book from Ashley''s room. We think it might be a journal, though we thought we should all take a look together."


    "What were you doing in Ashley''s room?" Kristin''s voice came out harsher than he intended, and he exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm down.


    "Charlie was returning some books of his she had borrowed. We didn''t move anything except for the journal."


    Kristin pressed his fist to his mouth as a slow tear rolled down his cheek. Why, Ashley? Why did you have to be taken from me? You didn''t deserve it. You should be here right now, Ashley.


    "Take as long as you need, Kristin. We''ll be out in the kitchen at the table. Whenever you''re ready, we can take a look at the book, whether that''s now, in an hour, or a few days from now. There''s a glass of water just outside your door. I thought you might want it. If you need anything, just ask. This is a very tough time for all of us, but especially for you."


    Kristin heard Ferris''s footsteps fade, followed by the sound of a chair scraping across the ground.


    He knew he should go out and see what Charlie had found, what the journal of Ashley''s really was, but he couldn''t bring himself to move. The emptiness in his chest chipped away at his insides, and the numbness consumed more and more of his body. If this was what he felt like now, how would he survive the rest of his life without Ashley?


    Cat''s Cradle required one to be on high alert at all times. Street smart as well, and book smart was a bonus. Knowing who to trust was also a requirement. But more so knowing that you shouldn''t trust, and, at the very least, be extremely careful who you trust: Cat''s Cradle teemed with masters of acting and with far-less-than-pure intentions and who could weave the most tantalizing of stories at a moment''s notice. Fame, glory, money, all within reach. Just sign here, and it''s yours.


    Kristin and Ashley had become the other''s rock. Kept the other safe when someone had started to lure the other in with those alluring whispers. Found food, water, shelter, occasionally some small gift as a surprise, either after saving up scrounged cash or pickpocketing, when supplies were running low. Created signals, both verbal and silent, for when danger was near or they were about to be found out for living where they shouldn''t or for stealing.


    What was he supposed to do without his other half?


    Charlie glanced up when Kristin cracked open his door and picked the glass of water off the ground, but she looked away and gave him space as he tried to muster the energy and the willpower to leave his room. He took a sip from the glass before setting it on his dresser.


    He could do it. He could walk out to the kitchen and look at Ashley''s journal. Kristin ran a hand over his face and ran his fingers across his hair to straighten it out. No one would care what he looked like, but he needed to stall just a little longer to convince himself that he really could.


    "Hey, Kristin." Ren offered a small smile when he reached the table.


    "Is that his journal?" He folded himself onto the chair, sitting on the very edge.


    "I think so." Charlie pushed it across the table. Kristin''s heart raced in his throat as he pulled it toward himself with shaking hands.


    The cover was made from worn leather, and the title ¡ªPockets of Gold and Silver¡ª had been carved in by hand. But beneath the title was a name that wasn''t Ashley''s. Kristin didn''t know whose it was. "Caspian Lyon?"


    "It''s Ashley''s pen name. If you open it, he wrote an introduction of sorts," Ferris said.


    Kristin nodded and flipped open the cover. The first page was blank, save for a few smudges of what was probably ink. The second was filled with neat writing, words shaped by a hand Kristin knew could only have been Ashley''s. He ran his fingers over the paragraphs, and his heart clenched in his chest. His lip quivered as he read what Ashley had written.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Aah, aah, aah, Charlie. Who''s been going through my books again? *shakes head slowly and clicks tongue*


    I''ve seen this enough in books to know it''s really quite clich¨¦, but it''s true so bear with me. If you''re reading this, I''m probably dead. And if I''m not, put this back right now.


    I''ve hidden this book, Pockets of Gold and Silver, in plain sight where no one would look at it twice except for you, Charlie Springs. Only someone who either went through literally every single book on my bookshelves or who knew the patterns would be able to find it. In case you were wondering, a book called Pockets of Gold and Silver actually did get released, and it was written by one Caspian Lyon. Roar. Look him up. I''ve heard he''s very attractive. His Muse profile (CaspianLyonAuthor) is full of selfies of himself. Don''t worry, they aren''t photoshopped THAT much. The book is about some kids who robbed a bank. It really wasn''t a very good story and the plot was really quite terrible, but if anyone were to look it up, they''d see it''s an actual book you could buy. Caspian Lyon has even written other books available for purchase. This copy ¡ªthe real Pockets of Gold and Silver¡ª needed to remain hidden, hence the wonderful Caspian Lyon''s mediocre writing.


    Only you, Charlie, knew the patterns I sorted my books under. For someone who spent as much time hunting around on the shelves as you have, I knew you''d be able to figure out that some weren''t in the right order. And I also knew you wouldn''t be able to resist taking a closer look and solving the puzzle since all of my books were always in the correct order. I knew you''d find this book.


    And so, if you''re reading this, chances are I''m dead. And Charlie, I''m glad you found this book.


    Please, read it. Go through every page. It''s my journal from a year ago when the SFPU (still think we should''ve gone with Pocket Forest... but alas) first started until now. It should explain everything, including why I didn''t tell you all about some things. But, please, do not share this journal with anyone but yourselves. It''s important that the information in here stay secret until all the details have been figured out.


    And if I am dead, please know that I cherish each and every moment I''ve spent with every one of you and that I wouldn''t trade my time here for anything.


    Kristin, I love you. You are the best brother and twin anyone could''ve ever asked for. You were always there for me whenever I needed you. I''ll love you forever and ever. It''ll all be ok. It''ll all be ok. It''ll all be ok. Read that as many times as you need. Here''s a written paper-and-ink hug for you.


    Tears rolled down Kristin''s cheeks, and he closed the journal. He drew in a shaky breath. Ashley had always known what he needed, now even in death. He''d known Kristin would want a hug, would want to hear it would be ok. Ferris rubbed his shoulder.


    Thank you, Ashley, he thought and hoped Ashley would receive the message. Hoped that his brother was still out there somewhere, because he couldn''t begin to think the thought that Ashley was completely gone, that he had been completely wiped from existence, that Ashley Baok no longer existed in any form. Perhaps Ashley''s ghost wandered the streets of Waverwell, meandered through Silverlight Forest ¡ªPocket Forest, Kristin thought, remembering how Ashley always referred to the forest as that¡ª, strolled around the camp. Maybe he was even sitting in the kitchen of the SFPU''s house, just out of sight. Kristin''s heart clenched at the idea that Ashley could see him, but he couldn''t see Ashley. I hope you''re out there, Ashley. I hope you are.


    It felt so personal, reading Ashley''s journal. Like he was spying on his brother. Kristin pushed the it a few inches away.


    "I... I-I." Kristin trailed off as his throat closed up, leaving him unable to continue.


    Seeing Ashley''s writing, words he knew for certain had been written by his brother... it was like someone had carved up his chest and filleted his heart. "Ashley," he choked, and buried his face in his hands.


    "Hey... it''s ok," Charlie murmured. "We''re here."


    "Please." Kristin knew they couldn''t give him what he was asking for, but he couldn''t help himself. He trembled as he begged yet again to please just wake up. The hole in his chest ached and the shattered pieces of his heart shredded his insides to ribbon.


    "Do you want a hug?" Kristin slumped down, head in his arms on the table. The only response he could give to Charlie''s question was a mangled cry. Charlie moved to wrap her arms around him, and Ferris did the same from the other side. Ren and Zip walked around the table to form a loose group hug, though Zip stayed half a step back.


    Kristin''s sides shook with violent cries. The hug provided him some semblance of comfort and relief from the hurricane of pain and grief, but another part of it just reminded him of Ashley''s hugs and the comfort that those hugs gave him. That made it hurt so much more. Never again would he be able to feel Ashley''s arms around him, feel the warmth as he squeezed him tight.


    Hands rubbed his back, soothing him to some extent.


    Kristin reached out a hand and gripped Ashley''s journal. What was it that he could''ve kept from the SFPU? What was so important to keep a secret? Why didn''t he share whatever he''d written in his journal?


    "It''s ok, Kristin," Ferris murmured as Kristin''s sniveling sobs evened out. "We''re here. We''re all here. Just breathe. We''re not going to go anywhere."


    "Why''d he have to be killed?" Kristin''s voice cracked. His fingers dug into the cover of Ashley''s journal. Some small piece of his brother that he clung to like a life raft.


    "Some... someone was evil," Zip said, voice soft. "Really, really evil."


    "I don''t know why someone murdered him, but we''ll find them." Ren squeezed his shoulder.


    "Somnus could tear someone limb from limb, right? And Morpheus and Pyxis could too?"


    "I-...," they trailed off. "I didn''t train them to do that. They will attack and can bring someone to the ground, but they will not maul."


    "I know, I know, I''m sorry. I just... how could someone do this? How could someone rip away another person''s life? And the hole in my chest... it''s only been two days. Does it ever go away?"


    "No," Ferris said, taking his hand off of Kristin''s shoulder. "It doesn''t. It''ll always be there, but the pain will fade and you''ll learn to live with it. Time heals it to some degree, but it doesn''t go away. It''s a wound that nothing can fully heal, but it can fade and the pain can lessen."


    Kristin sighed and pushed himself up, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands. Ren and Zip stepped back and returned to the other side of the table, while Charlie sat back in her chair.


    "So what do we do now?"


    "Find out who murdered Ashley. Make them pay. See what Ashley wrote in his journal. Figure out what he wanted and what to do with that." Charlie listed them off on her fingers.


    "Look at Ashley''s journal when you''re ready," Ferris added.


    Kristin pulled Ashley''s journal toward him. The cover was quite simple: Pockets of Gold and Silver strung together in a single line across the top, with Caspian Lyon written beneath it. Small, golden embellishments decorated the corners. He ran his fingers across it, and the leather was slightly rough beneath his touch.


    "Are you sure he intended for you to find this?" Kristin fixed Charlie with as sharp a stare as he could manage despite his exhaustion.


    "Yes, I am. Ashley never had any of his books out of order. He even said so somewhere on that first page. I forget where, but it''s there. He wanted us to find the journal, so he led me to it. He''s right; I wouldn''t have been able to resist figuring it out. Follow the dopamine, I guess. Brain decided it would be fun and interesting, so I did it. Impulse control has never been a strong suit of mine. I didn''t know Ashley as well as you did, but from what I do know about him, he wouldn''t have left any of his books out of order. It was intentional, him placing the books where he did. That I can say for certain."


    Kristin held Charlie''s gaze for several long moments. She was right: Ashley didn''t leave things where they didn''t belong. Kristin didn''t have to know Ashley''s book sorting patterns to know he wouldn''t have left books out of order by accident, so him messing up a pattern would''ve been an intentional move on his part.


    "Ok," he said, flipping open Ashley''s journal. "Let''s see what Ashley wrote."

 NYTE - Chapter 12 - Ren - I Dont Think Anything was Different

    Chapter 12


    REN


    Ren was the last person Ferris brought into the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. They knew how to train animals and had the experience ¡ªthey ran a small dog training business, both for family dogs and working dogs¡ª and Ferris saw the benefit of working dogs on their side. A dog nose was far more powerful than a human''s, and they were far faster. At first, Ren was hesitant. But after Ferris explained why he wanted them to join, they did.


    Originally, the working dogs portion of the SFPU consisted of only Somnus, an eighteen-month-old dog Ren had rescued from the streets of the Warren a few months before they joined the SFPU. He had bitten Ren twice before they were able to gain his trust and find a way of communicating that worked for him. No dog should bite, and to be the working dog they knew Somnus could be, he couldn''t bite unless told to do so. Any command given would have to be followed immediately, no matter the location and distractions present. After several months of training, Ren was confident in his abilities.


    Pyxis was the next addition. Ashley had come back from a supply run and showed Ren a flyer for a dog in need of a new home. The photo on it showed Pyxis as a young dog, paws still too big for her body and lanky frame still far from filled out. The paragraphs beneath the photo described Pyxis as an energetic dog whose owners simply could no longer provide the care she needed: plenty of exercise, a spacious yard, and time spent on her training, which at that point consisted only of a few basic commands: sit, stay, and off. Ren adopted Pyxis after meeting her and spending a bit of time working with her, and she soon turned out to have a natural ability for tracking tirelessly over long distances.


    Morpheus came into the SFPU family about a month after Pyxis, again from a flyer. He was the oldest out of the three dogs, at about two. His calm disposition originally made Ren unsure about if Morpheus would be successful at becoming a fully fledged working dog in the SFPU, but after a few sessions of bite and scent work, they knew he would make it.


    Training was never really done with the dogs. All three of them could perform at an extremely high level and with near-perfect reliability, but Ren needed to keep them at that level. So they trained the dogs daily, going over every command each of them knew and working on anything the dogs needed some extra time on.


    Morpheus would be resting for the next several days. If Kristin gave the all-clear, Ren would begin to work him again, starting off with a few short sessions to get him back into things and see if he showed any signs of discomfort.


    But Ren knew it would be some time before anyone, especially Kristin, truly returned to any semblance of how things were before Ashley''s murder. They''d keep an eye on Morpheus''s wound and would take him to the emergency vet in Moonfall if anything serious happened, but their heart twisted at the thought of asking something from Kristin.


    Ashley was the type of person anyone could get along with. His easygoing personality and lightheartedness made people gravitate toward him. Ren could only imagine what Kristin was going through with the loss of his twin brother. They hadn''t lost anyone like that, but they knew it was a terrible feeling.


    But what could they possibly do that would make that better? What could be done that would ease some of that pain?


    Ren propped their chin up on their fist, and they adjusted their position in their chair at the kitchen table.


    Kristin flipped past the introduction in Ashley''s journal. He propped it up in his hands as he started to read what Ren assumed was the first entry. No one spoke as he read through the first few.


    "God, Ashley..."


    "What did he write?" Charlie returned to the table after filling up her water bottle. She sat sideways in the chair, a leg slung over the armrest, and twirled the ribbons and bracelets she''d knotted onto the handle between her fingers.


    "He started the journal right around the time we were getting the SFPU up and running... he''s been journaling for a year." Kristin closed Ashley''s journal, keeping his spot with a finger, and held it up.


    "That long?" Ren frowned. They usually picked up on things, but they ever hadn''t noticed him writing in it.


    "His first entry says...," Kristin trailed off as his voice broke. "His... it-it says... Zip read it. Second paragraph, first sentence." He thrust the journal into Zip''s chest, who took it, eyes wide and body locking up for a split second before relaxing. Kristin ran a hand over his face.


    "I-I... uh, o-ok." Zip opened the journal and ran his finger across the page until he found the right sentence. He skimmed it a few times before reading it. "Don''t... don''t t-tell anyone I... said this, but I-I think Kristin is... more-more excited about this whole... Silverlight Forest Protection Unit thing th-than he''s... saying."


    "Thanks, Zip. You don''t need the exact date to know Ashley wrote that about a year ago." Kristin took Ashley''s journal back.


    "I apologize," Ren said. "I didn''t mean for that to come across like I didn''t believe you. I was just... I was just surprised."


    But before Kristin could reply, Ferris perked up and he stood up from his seat to go check the window. Ren followed him.


    Four SUV''s were pulling in the camp''s courtyard, sides painted with Moonfall Precinct in large, bold letters. They parked in a neat row, fanning out in the middle of the courtyard. A dozen or so people climbed out, slamming the doors behind them. A dog jumped down from the back of one of the cars after someone opened it, sporting a vest similar to that of the ones the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit dogs wore.


    "The Moonfall Precinct''s here," Ferris said. "We should probably go talk with them."


    "Yeah, probably. Ya gonna be good with your concussion and all, Ferris? Need to lean on me?" Charlie smiled, eyes sparkling, as she swung her leg down and sauntered over to where Ferris stood. She wrapped an arm around his waist, but removed it when Ferris gave her a half-hearted glare with no real malice behind it.


    "What do we do with Ashley''s journal? He wrote that he didn''t want anyone looking at it until we''d figured it out, whatever that means." Kristin gripped the journal tight.


    "If the Moonfall Precinct has a warrant, they can take it. We wouldn''t be able to stop them without breaking the law. Lying to them is also illegal." Ferris grimaced.


    "Yeah, but we don''t know exactly what Ashley wrote in his journal or what it is he wants us to figure out. We can''t lie about something we don''t know about."


    "Borderline, Charlie."


    "What do we do with it?" Kristin''s shoulders sagged.


    "We could put it back on the shelf. If they take it, we can''t do anything about it. If they don''t, we can look at it later. It''s a bit of a tough situation. Ashley said he didn''t want anyone to know apart from us until we figure things out, but we also can''t lie to the Moonfall Precinct."


    "What if we were to put it back on the shelf and not mention it. If the Moonfall Precinct explicitly asks in a way that could reasonably be interpreted as they''re asking for something that could be the journal, even if they don''t know it''s the journal cuz they probably don''t know it exists, we''d tell them cuz lying to them''s illegal and I think it''s safe to say we''ve got plenty on our plates already. And if they don''t ask, we don''t tell them. Is that un-illegal enough for ya, Ferris?"


    "It''s a very fine line, Charlie. A very, very fine line. I don''t know much about what Ashley wrote in it except for the very beginning, but I do believe it contains very important information. However, he explicitly stated that he did not want anyone seeing the journal, apart from us, until we have figured out whatever he would like for us to figure out. I''d say it''s up to you, Kristin. What would you like to do?"


    Ren turned toward Kristin and watched as he weighed the options. He flipped Ashley''s journal around in his hands.


    Ren wasn''t sure what they''d do if they were in Kristin''s situation. There were pros and cons to either choice, and the unknowns about what exactly was contained in the journal made the decision that much more difficult. They waited quietly until Kristin spoke again.


    "Put it back on the shelf. If the Moonfall Precinct asks and it could be interpreted as they''re asking for the journal, tell them. We''re not going to break any laws. But Ashley wanted us to figure out something before we tell people what he''s written in his journal, and we''ll follow that. You know where you found his journal, right, Charlie?"


    "Yeah, I can put it back."


    "Do it."


    "Yup." Charlie took the journal from Kristin and disappeared into Ashley''s room.


    Ren hung back with Kristin as the group filed out of the front door.


    "Hello," Charlie said, stepping to the front. "Moonfall Precinct?"


    "Hello, Charlie Springs." Larson Hotch approached them from the row of cars. "We are here to continue our investigation into the murder of Ashley Ba-."


    "Yeah, yeah, we know. You''re looking into the murder of my brother. What do you want from us? You want to ask us questions? Go through the rooms? See if one of us did it? If it''s the last one, I''ll make it easy for you: none of us killed Ashley." Larson''s face remained impassive as Kristin spoke.


    "We are still very early in the investigation, and so we are not yet able to come to any concrete conclusions as to what happened to Ashley Baok. However, we will communicate with you as soon as we do. As of right now, though, we would like to ask you each some questions and search through each of the buildings you have here in your camp. We have a warrant to search every room of every one of your buildings here in your camp and seize any evidence that would assist in out investigation. Here''s the warrant, which you can look at. I can answer any questions you may have."


    "I will take a look at that." Ferris took the warrant from Larson.


    Charlie read over Ferris''s shoulder as the two looked through the search warrant.


    "So you''re gonna look through... everywhere here?" Charlie gestured all around her with a hand.


    "Yes, we will search every room in every building."


    "Ok," Ferris said. "Some doors are locked, either with a key or with a keypad. We can unlock those, just ask. Do whatever you need to."


    "Will I need to move the dogs?" Ren stepped forward. "The Silverlight Forest Protection Unit has three working dogs. One of them got injured during out last arrest. It may take a bit longer to move him."


    "Yes, we will likely need to move the dogs. Where are the dogs located?"


    "In that building over there, the one across the courtyard." Ren pointed.


    "Alright. Yes, please move them. Leave everything else where it is, though. A few officers are about to begin searching there."


    "I will do that now. Could you help me, Charlie?"


    "Yeah, sure. Let''s go." Ren ducked their head in response and crossed the courtyard. They hung along the edge, almost in the grass, so they didn''t disturb the officers, who were bustling about, setting up canopies and tables. Charlie trailed behind them.


    After entering the code to the dogs'' building, Ren propped the door open with a rock. Charlie had painted a crude portrait of what was supposed to be Somnus on it, although Ren thought it looked less like a dog and more like a rat. Not that they had told her that, or that they ever would.


    Somnus leaped to his feet as soon as Ren opened the door to the dogs'' building, and Pyxis stood up as well, arching her back in an elegant stretch. Morpheus lifted his head but remained laying down. The bandage on his side was white, which Ren took as a good sign since it hadn''t bled through. "The Moonfall Precinct is here. We''re not tracking down any offenders today," Ren told the dogs. They left the dogs'' vests hanging, instead opening the gate to Somnus and Pyxis''s kennels and calling the two out.


    "Can you bring them outside, Charlie? I''ll get Morpheus."


    "Sure. Come here, Somnus and Pyxis. Let''s go say hi to the rest of the SFPU. No munching on the Moonfall Precinct. They''re here to help," Charlie said, adding on when Ren frowned at her: "I don''t actually think they''ll munch on the officers. I know you''ve trained them very, very well."


    "Please bring them outside."


    "Ok, ok, I will. Somnus, Pyxis, come." Charlie waved her hand, and the dogs followed her outside, trotting at her side.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Ren knelt beside Morpheus and asked him to stand. He stumbled a few times before he stayed upright. The pain medication Kristin had told Ren to give Morpheus left him a bit groggy, and he drifted some as he walked. Ren kept their pace slow as they made their way outside.


    Several officers from the Moonfall Precinct brought equipment into the dogs'' building, ready to search its entirety. What exactly the officers were looking for, Ren wasn''t sure, but they were sure the officers would know when they found it. Perhaps something Ashley might''ve touched? Fingerprints? Ren knew the officers would find theirs, but likely not many others: they were often the only one in the dogs'' building, except for when other members of the SFPU worked with the dogs to ensure the three would listen to any order given by the SFPU, no matter the person. And even then, Ren was often the only one touching much.


    The officers were looking for clues, and they had far more training with searching for evidence than Ren had. They knew what to search for; Ren didn''t. They hoped the officers found everything they were looking for. Whoever murdered Ashley needed to be brought to justice. Nothing would bring Ashley back from the dead, however tantalizing that idea sounded, but justice could perhaps let him rest a little easier.


    Ren led Morpheus over toward where the group stood, still a little ways in front of their house. Somnus and Pyxis sat at Charlie''s feet. Kristin''s teeth were clenched tight, and Zip said something to him in a voice too soft for Ren to hear. Kristin looked down at him, eyebrows set in the beginnings of a frown, but he only huffed and turned his head to the side, jaw working.


    "Thank you, Ren," Larson Hotch said. "Zip, would you please bring me to where you store the footage from your camera traps? I would like to see the footage from around two days ago, and I would like to get a copy of all of the footage from the past month.


    "Ok." Zip nodded. "It''s this way."


    Kristin watched Zip lead Larson away with a cold gaze. Every muscle was tensed, and Ren thought he looked like he was about to lash out and fight, or perhaps run. They weren''t sure which, but he was almost vibrating with tension.


    "You good, Kristin?" Charlie gave him a once over, narrowing her eyes.


    "Fine."


    "Alright. If you need anything, just ask." Ren knew, like Charlie, that he wasn''t, but neither of them pushed it.


    "Hello, I am Rift Oberhofer. I use he and him pronouns. I am a detective with the Moonfall Precinct, and I am a member of the team working on the Ashley Baok case. As I''m sure you know already, we are executing a warrant and are searching the buildings on this property. We are also looking to speak with each of you. Detective Larson Hotch has already spoken with Zip Furr, but we would like to speak with the rest of you."


    Ren glanced at Ferris, as did Charlie. Kristin only fixated his gaze on Rift, expression somewhere between unreadable and scowling. When Ferris gave a nod ¡ªyes, it was fine. They can do that¡ª Ren turned back to Rift. "How do we go about doing that?"


    "It will take time to go interview all of you, but we can begin now."


    "Do you have an order, or do we get to pick?" Kristin''s voice was made of ice. Ren had never heard him speak like that before; he was the member of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit who rarely ¡ªif ever¡ª lost their cool, always remaining calm. They didn''t like the new side of Kristin, but they also knew it wasn''t without good reason.


    "We do have an order, of sorts," Rift said, not blinking at Kristin''s tone. "We have each been assigned a person to interview. I will be interviewing you, Ren. There is a picnic table on the other side of the house, where it''s a little more private. Shall we do the interview there?"


    "Sure." Ren''s heart pounded in their chest, and their palms started to sweat.


    The picnic table had been constructed next to the camp''s house. It was a group project they all did together a few weeks after the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit got off the ground to get to know each other better. One of the legs was a few inches shorter than the other due to Kristin''s hand slipping on the saw, resulting in it being propped up with a few carefully selected rocks, though the table still wobbled some. Shade from the house kept the picnic table a cool spot in the heat of the summer, and, in this case, a more private-feeling environment.


    Rift Oberhofer sat down across from Ren, flipping open a notebook and pulling out a pen.


    "Before we begin, I just wanted to say thank you for doing this interview with me. I know this is a very tough time for you right now. If, at any point, you need a few moments, please let me know and we can take a break."


    "Ok." Ren took a deep breath. This would help the Moonfall Precinct find Ashley''s killer, they told themselves. You can do it.


    "What is your name?"


    "My real name or my legal name?"


    "Your legal name." Ren hesitated, heart twisting in their chest. They exhaled slowly in an attempt to ease the pain curling through their insides.


    Rift tilted his head to the side. "Do you want to write it down? If... uh. If that would be easier for you? I''m sorry. We need to ask. It''s for our records of everyone we interview."


    "Yes, please," Ren gritted out and took the notebook and pen from Rift. They hastily scratched down their legal name, trying to ignore how their skin crawled and the sensation of wrong, wrong, wrong screamed in their head. They took several deep breaths after handing back the notebook, and Rift gave them a few moments.


    "I apologize for asking about it. I wouldn''t have if it wasn''t necessary. Is Ren the name you go by?"


    "Yes. My legal name is my deadname. Ren is my name."


    "I will put that in my notes and make sure it''s clear that your name is Ren. Also, what are your pronouns? Mine are he and him, though I believe I said that earlier."


    "They, them, and theirs." Ren appreciated what Rift was doing; documenting their name, both legal and real, and their pronouns and making sure anyone who read through the interview would know what their name is and the pronouns they use. As much as they hated thinking about their legal name, they knew why Rift had asked for it and the reasoning was sound.


    "I will add that as well."


    "Thank you."


    "Are you ok to continue, or do you need a few minutes?"


    "I''m ok to continue."


    "What do you do for work?" Rift turned to a new page in his notebook.


    "I work at the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit."


    "What do you do in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"


    "I work with si-. Er, uh, five, I guess, other people. Do you want their names?" Ren winced and corrected themselves. Five people in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, not six.


    "Please."


    "I work with Ferris Dipper, Charlie Springs, Zip Furr, and Kristin Baok. Ashley Baok, too, until he was... until he was... murdered." Ren swallowed and took a breath. "We arrest poachers and offenders who hunt, snare, trap, and illegally remove wild flora and fauna from the Silverlight Forest. Our job is to keep the forest safe."


    "How did you go about doing this job with the six, and now five, of you?"


    "We all work together and did a lot of it together. If an alert comes up that there''s a poacher or offender somewhere in the area, we''ll usually all go arrest them together, unless there''s a reason someone shouldn''t go. But we also had jobs that were kind of our own, even if sometimes other people did them."


    "What were the jobs that people had as their own?"


    "Ferris generally does all of the paperwork. He knows the legal stuff the best and will do our reports. Charlie has helped him a few times. Her main job, though, is keeping track of the populations of the species in the forest. We all know plenty about the wildlife, but she knows the most. Zip is our tech person, as well as our mechanic. He is very skilled with building things and coding them. Kristin is our doctor and treats us, as well as our dogs. Ashley does-did a little of everything. If someone had a job they needed someone else for, he was the go-to person; he could do a little of everything and knew a little about almost anything. He also did nearly all of the supply runs. I work with and train our dogs, though they will respond to anyone in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. It''s important they do, in case I am not around."


    "I saw you bring out three dogs earlier. Are they all the dogs you have?" Rift turned to a new page in his notebook.


    "Yes."


    "What are their names?"


    "Morpheus is the one who was injured, Pyxis is the big brown one, and Somnus is the smaller one with a few scars." Ren listed the names off on their fingers.


    "What are they trained to do?"


    "They are trained to assist in arresting poachers. They can track the scent of a poacher and can attack a poacher, but they will only bite if told to by us. Each of them can do every job, but Pyxis is the most skilled tracker and Somnus and Morpheus are better at bite work."


    "Do the dogs behave?"


    "Yes. I work with them daily to ensure they remain at the level they need to in order to be a working dog for the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit." Ren held back a biting tone. It was a reasonable question for someone who wasn''t familiar with the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. The dogs are trained to attack, so one could reasonably wonder if the dogs were well behaved: did they attack when they wanted to, or when their handler wanted them to?


    "Who trained the dogs?"


    "I did."


    "By yourself?"


    "Yes. I used to train dogs before I joined the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, but I started doing it in a more... professional manner after joining."


    "Where did you acquire the dogs?"


    "They''re all rescues. I found Somnus on the streets of the Warren. Pyxis I adopted after seeing a flyer Ashley showed to me, and I adopted Morpheus after seeing a flyer as well."


    "Have you had any problems with the dogs?" Rift jotted down a few notes before looking up at Ren.


    "Problems?" Ren frowned.


    "Any problems with temperament, aggression, anything like that?"


    "No, I haven''t. I''ve worked with them so they will behave under any circumstances and in any environment. They will not attack unless told to do so. If I thought they might, I would not work them and would train them until I had no reason to doubt their abilities. And if I did not find it realistic for them to reach that level of ability, I would find a new job for them. It would be here, as I promised each of them a forever home, but it would not be in tracking down poachers."


    "You promised them a forever home?"


    "Yes, I did. They will have a home with me until the day they die. However, if something happens where I am, for whatever reason, unable to properly care for them and provide the quality of life they need and deserve, I will find a loving home that will."


    Rift nodded his reply.


    "Moving on from the dogs, now: what are the dynamics in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"


    "I''d say we all get along quite well. Sure, sometimes there are disagreements, but never anything major and they get worked out quickly. We don''t have an exact leader, but Ferris tends to take charge, although he won''t order us around."


    "How well did you know Ashley Baok?"


    "I knew him fairly well. All six ¡ªI guess now five of us¡ª spent a lot of time together due to the nature of our job. We needed to retain a relatively low profile so no one would recognize us. We''re all good friends. But no one knew Ashley as well as Kristin did. They knew each other better than anyone and were very, very close."


    "Did you notice Ashley acting any different than usual in the past few weeks?"


    "Did I notice him... no, I wouldn''t say so. He acted about the same, I''d say."


    "What was happening in the past week or so? Was anything different than usual?"


    "No. I mean, Ashley went off into Silverlight Forest a few times, but he''s done that fairly regularly for the past several months. Maybe four or five months? It wasn''t unusual by any means."


    "Do you know what he did when he went into the forest?"


    "No. It was just him and he never said. Kristin might know. If Ashley told anyone, it would''ve been him. But I don''t know if he told Kristin."


    "What was Ashley doing around the time he disappeared?"


    "He left for a supply run...," Ren trailed off as they counted back the days to make sure they got it right. "Ashley left three days ago. Two days ago is when he should''ve returned but didn''t."


    "Does a supply run usually take two days?"


    "Supply runs take about a day, but driving back to the camp at night is difficult. At night, it''s probably about a forty-five minute drive. Give or take, depending on the conditions and visibility. It can be done, but it''s easier to spend the night and return in the morning. I don''t believe Ashley ever returned the same day. I can''t say anyone has, except for Charlie."


    "Can you walk me through a supply run? Where " Rift shifted, crossing his legs.


    "We do about two supply runs a month. Sometimes we''ll do a quick one if there are things we need then and can''t wait for the next one. For the run, you''d leave in the morning and drive out to Moonfall in the bigger of the two cars not build specially for arresting poachers. We''d make a list of everything that was needed the night before, and it would go with whoever did the supply run, usually Ashley. The exact things on the list vary, based on what we''re running low on at the time, but generally it''s groceries, parts Zip needs for whatever he''s working on, dog food, probably some clothing, random supplies around the house, and books, if it''s Ashley. Charlie often has a request. Ferris pretty much always needs pens and paper, so those will probably be on the list. Kristin might need more medical supplies. Often, the list is a double-sided sheet of paper. Potentially two, if it''s a big run and things are running out all at the same time," Ren said.


    "On the supply run, you''d probably wind up going to anywhere from six to ten stores, depending on what''s been added to the list. The grocery store is always a guarantee, though. Ashley said he had a route picked that was most efficient for hitting all of the stores in one line and getting the run done as fast as possible. I think it was some kind of inverse teardrop shape. He drew it on a map for me once, but I don''t remember exactly what the route was."


    "Do you know what stores Ashley was going to stop at?" Rift turned to a new page in his notebook.


    "Definitely the grocery store," Ren said, pausing to try to think of where Ashley was headed. "I believe the hardware store, as well. He might''ve been going to Jonathan''s Subs since Kristin asked him to pick up some sandwiches. Definitely a bookstore. There are a few, so I''m not sure which one. He''ll-he''d mix up which one he went to so he''d see the new releases."


    "Who created the list of what was needed?"


    "We all did. The night before we''d sit down and make the list. Zip was the one who made the... master list, I suppose you could call it. If we had things we needed for ourselves, we''d make a little list and Zip would put it into a big document on his and would sort out everything so there was a section for each store."


    "Would Zip know each store Ashley went to?"


    "I''d guess so, but I couldn''t say for sure. I''m sure he could probably pull up the list though if you asked him."


    "I will do that, thank you." Rift jotted down something on the edge of his notebook that Ren guessed was a reminder to have Zip print out the list.


    Ren nodded their head in reply.


    "When did you start to think that something might''ve been wrong?"


    "In the morning two days ago when Ashley didn''t return when he should''ve and didn''t communicate with us." Ren''s chest tightened at the memory. If only they''d known what was to come. If only they''d known that the night before was the last time they would see Ashley alive. They pressed their fist to their mouth and stared at the ground, fighting against the burning in their eyes. You need to finish the interview, Ren. Don''t cry, not yet. Crying is ok, but you need to finish the interview first. Answer Rift''s questions. Anything the Moonfall Precinct needs to find Ashley''s murderer.


    "Do you need a minute?"


    "No, I-... I''ll be fine. What''s the next question?"


    Rift hesitated for a few moments. "Was it an uncommon occurrence for Ashley to not communicate?"


    "Ashley is-was the best at communicating out of all of us. If he was going to be even a few minutes late, he''d tell us. It was not like him at all to just... not tell us anything."


    "Did you reach out to Ashley?"


    "Yes, we did."


    "Did all of you reach out to Ashley?"


    "I believe so, yes."


    "How did you reach out to Ashley?"


    "Messages and phone calls. Kristin was at least thinking about creating a Muse account to message him since Ashley had an account. I don''t know if he did, though."


    "When did you first reach out to Ashley?"


    "I think it was Kristin who called Ashley first. It was... I think it was late morning. Maybe... ten or so? The first time I messaged Ashley was sometime around noon. All of us called and messaged him throughout the day until we... until we, uh. Until Ferris got the phone call that said to...," Ren''s voice trailed off and their throat choked up.


    Rift gave a sympathetic smile. He stood up. "That''s all of the questions I have for you. Thank you for your time. Again, I am very sorry for your loss."


    "Thank you," Ren said. "If there''s anything I can do, please let me know."


    "I will, thank you."


    Rift left the picnic table, making his way back to the row of cars. Someone approached him, and he said something Ren couldn''t hear.


    Deep breaths, Ren. We will find those responsible for murdering Ashley and bring them to justice. Nothing can make what they did better, but we can make sure they cannot do it again. No one who could do something as terrible as murder should be walking free in Waverwell.


    Deep breaths, Ren; we''ll find them.


    Ren took a deep breath, resting their elbows on the table and lacing their fingers in front of their mouth. They didn''t move from the picnic table for a long while.


    I hope you''re doing ok, Ashley. As ok as one could really be.

 NYTE - Chapter 13 - Cynthia Corville - Its a Matter of National Security

    Chapter 13


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    When Cynthia woke up the following morning, the sun had yet to rise. Charlotte had already gotten dressed and was quietly reading a book under the soft light of the lamp on her bedside table.


    "You''re already up, Char?" Cynthia rolled over, rubbing an eye.


    "Yes. Asa and Azrael Smith get here today, and I couldn''t sleep. Too many thoughts buzzing around in my head. I thought reading for a while might help."


    "I get that. I''m nervous, too. I really hope the team we''ve put together will be able to figure out who murdered Ashley Baok and why." Cynthia sat up, shifting to her wife''s side and leaning her head on Charlotte''s shoulder. Charlotte marked her page and set her book beside her, lacing their fingers together and cuddling closer.


    "We should probably get up," Cynthia murmured after a few minutes.


    "I''m already up."


    "You know what I mean."


    "We probably should. It''s going to be a busy day today."


    "It definitely will. We should be there when Asa and Azrael Smith get here to greet them."


    "Yeah, we should. What time do they get here?"


    Cynthia glanced back at the clock on her bedside table. "In... an hour and a half or so."


    "That''s enough time to get a quick breakfast and make sure we''re ready. It''ll be us, them, Gabriella, Linda, Delta, and Harold, right?"


    "Yes."


    "Let''s get going, shall we, wifey dearest?" Charlotte climbed out of bed and offered a hand to Cynthia.


    "I''m more partial to Sin than I am wifey dearest." Cynthia followed her wife out of bed.


    They were quiet as they got ready. Charlotte returned to her book, sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs by the window. Cynthia got dressed. The sun began to peek over the horizon, casting a fiery blaze over the skyline of Corville, and the sounds of the city began to awaken once again.


    Charlotte broke the silence as they made their way down the halls to get breakfast. "Do you think Delta will be on time?"


    "I don''t know. If he isn''t, I''ll start the process of getting him removed from Waverwell government. If he is, that''ll be a first. For his sake, I hope he''s on time, but I honestly doubt he will be."


    "Would you like to make a bet?" Charlotte sped up to be a few steps in front of Cynthia and turned to walk at an angle.


    "A bet?"


    "If Delta is on time to the meeting, I will... buy you ice cream every day for a week. And if Delta is late to the meeting, you will buy me a slice of cheesecake every day for a week." Charlotte stopped and Cynthia followed suit.


    "We share our money. What''s mine is yours and what''s yours is mine."


    "That''s not the point, Sin. The point is it''s a bet and one of us will get dessert hand-delivered by the other for a week."


    "A month and you''ve got a deal."


    "A whole month?"


    "Go big or go home." Cynthia smiled and stuck out her hand.


    "Deal. If Delta is on time, I will buy you ice cream every day for a month, and if Delta is late, you will buy me a slice of cheesecake every day for a month." Charlotte took her hand and gave it a firm shake that Cynthia returned, just like her parents had taught her after she had come home from school one day and proudly announced she would become President of Waverwell. Her parents had said great! and told her that one of the first things she should do was get a good handshake, which they''d practiced for over an hour when she had insisted that they tell her every secret they knew about shaking someone''s hand. There was nothing worse than a weak handshake that resembled a floppy, dead fish.


    "You do know that if I wind up having to buy you cheesecake every day that I''ll be taking a bite before I give it to you, right?"


    "I do. Just like I will be snagging a scoop of ice cream before I give it to you, if you win."


    "I''m glad we''re on the same page."


    "Me, too."


    Cynthia and Charlotte sat across from each other in the dining room. Light from its tall windows lit up the space, and its high ceiling made it feel huge, despite its relatively compact size. Servers immediately brought out a variety of foods; fruits, pastries, eggs, and bacon, Cynthia''s personal favorite. After a quick thank you, they both dug in.


    "Do you think Asa and Azrael Smith are going to be able to figure out Ashley Baok''s murder with the Moonfall Precinct?"


    Cynthia finished chewing before replying, "I do. I mean, I do not know all of the details, obviously, but I do believe they will be able to get to the bottom of Ashley Baok''s murder. They''re the best detectives in Waverwell. Larson Hotch is very skilled as well, and Asa and Azrael have agreed to work with him. Ashley Baok''s murder is believed to be one of the most brutal in Waverwell history, and, being that he was a member of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, a government-funded organization, it is very pressing that it is figured out what happened to him and why."


    "They definitely are the best," Charlotte said after a bite of melon.


    "How long do you think the investigation into Ashley Baok''s murder will go on for? I am aware an investigation''s length can vary greatly... it''s just-," Cynthia paused for a few moments, biting her lip. "I want to know what happened. Ashley Baok didn''t deserve that. I helped create the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, and he was a part of it, and..."


    Cynthia couldn''t finish the sentence. She pressed her fist to her mouth as she took a deep breath to retain her composure. She was the President of Waverwell. She could show emotion when necessary, but she couldn''t lose her composure.


    "You feel guilty." It wasn''t a question. Charlotte tilted her head to the side.


    "A bit, yes," Cynthia replied. "If he hadn''t been in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, would he still be here?"


    "We''ll never know. And investigators are still looking for evidence and piecing together a timeline of everything that happened in the weeks leading up to Ashley Baok''s murder. I don''t know what happened. The reasons behind his murder could be related to him being in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, but they also could have nothing to do with that. But we''ll never know if he would''ve still been murdered because we cannot change the past. It sucks, and it sucks big time, I know that. I never got to meet Ashley Baok, but he seemed like an amazing person."


    "He was. I wish I''d gotten to know him better. His personality could light up a room. He was one of the kindest people I''ve ever met." Cynthia smiled weakly. While she had only gotten to meet Ashley Baok a few times, he had always greeted her as if they''d been lifelong friends, treating her with respect and also a bit of normality she no longer got after being elected President of Waverwell. He interacted with her as if she were just another person living in Waverwell, not the President.


    "I wish I''d gotten to meet him."


    "I didn''t know him well, but I feel like the two of you would''ve been great friends. You both have a pretty good sense of humor. I believe it was the second time I visited the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit''s camp, and Charlie pulled a prank on Ashley. Whether or not she knew I would be there, I didn''t know, but she pranked him. Apparently, it was Ashley''s birthday and he loved caramel apples. After lunch, Charlie brought out what were supposedly caramel apples. However, he bit into one, and immediately started laughing. It wasn''t an apple, it was an onion. Charlie was cackling and crying with laughter. She ran away, but Ashley still hit her in the back with the caramel onion. That evening, she got him again with chocolate-covered Brussel sprouts. I''ll give it to her, she is very clever with pranks. She had several that were actually chocolate truffles to convince him that she wasn''t pranking him. Yet she still did. Ashley laughed it off, playfully tossed a few of the Brussel sprouts at her, told her she''d gotten him good, and then vowed to get her back."


    "Wow, that would take some planning on Charlie''s part." Charlotte chuckled.


    "Ren said she has a notebook filled with pranks she''s thought up. They said not to tell her they knew about the journal though since no one was supposed to know. Apparently, the pranks are a regular occurrence, though."


    "Do they still get their work done?"


    "Yes, they do. As long as they''re using their allotted money wisely and, obviously, getting their job done, I don''t really care what they do in their free time. Besides, pranks and goofing off would lighten the mood. I''ve never personally gone after a poacher or removed snares and traps, but I would imagine it can get tedious and dreary at times. Taking time to decompress and have fun with each other would keep things a little lighter."


    "Yeah, I would agree with you there."


    xxxx


    At first glance, Asa and Azrael Smith did not look like siblings. Asa had straight brown hair that fell to just below her shoulders in neat locks, while Azrael''s fiery red hair cascaded down her back in unruly clumps. Asa had a soft, quiet confidence that gave her a careful, thoughtful presence. Azrael''s loud, brutally honest personality and the way she could instantly turn a room''s attention to her reminded Cynthia of Charlie Springs.


    Many had doubted Asa and Azrael''s abilities as detectives. They were women doing what many had called a man''s job, something that felt far too familiar to Cynthia. More than once she had been told to marry a husband and let him become President. But why marry someone she didn''t love when she could marry Charlotte, whom she did? Why let someone else become President and when she herself could? Cynthia had little doubt that Asa and Azrael held a similar thought process to the one she had: they wanted to become detectives, so they put in the work and did. Cynthia wanted to become President of Waverwell, so she put in the work and did.


    Asa and Azrael Smith wore matching grey suits, and they strolled into the Waverwell government building with an air of confidence that clung to them. Asa held a briefcase in one hand. Cynthia stepped toward them with Charlotte right behind her to greet them. "Hello, Asa and Azrael Smith. Thank you for coming here."


    "It''s a pleasure," Asa said. "I wish it were under better circumstances, though."


    "You don''t need to be so formal, President Corville. Call me Az." Cynthia shook Azrael''s hand firmly, just like her parents had taught.


    "I will do that. And, please, call me Cynthia."


    "Alrighty, then. I will, Cynthia." Azrael pulled off her gloves and stuck them in the pocket of her coat.


    "Please, right this way. I hope the trip to Corville wasn''t too bad?" Charlotte led the group down a hallway toward the meeting room.


    "We actually came up yesterday. We had planned a trip to Corville a few months ago. Today''s meeting coincided with the trip so we just moved a few things around and took most of yesterday to speak with Larson Hotch and look over what had been discovered in Ashley Baok''s murder. Dal is busy like Corville is, but the Corville busy feels less... Dal''s bustling, always moving, crawling with packed streets filled with people and cars. Corville is busy, but it doesn''t hold the same energy Dal has. The architecture in Corville is gorgeous, though. I always forget how much I enjoy seeing it," Asa said, handing the briefcase to Azrael while she shucked off her overcoat and draped it over an arm.


    When they reached the door of the waiting room, Cynthia took a deep breath. Delta Bass better be here already. She held the door as Asa and Azrael filed in after her wife.


    Linda was seated at the end of the table, notebook already open and an array of pens lined up beside it. Gabriella gestured with both hands as she spoke with Harold, but fell silent at the sound of the door. Delta didn''t look up from his phone, where he tapped away. Azrael narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing.


    I owe you ice cream for a month, Charlotte murmured in Cynthia''s ear, and she hummed in reply.


    "Welcome, Asa and Azrael Smith. Thank you for joining us today. It is a pleasure to meet you both in person." Gabriella stood up and shook hands with the detectives. Her long dress flowed as she moved, silky, colorful fabrics whispering across each other. Gems on her heels glittered, and light glinted off her dangling earrings.


    "Gabriella Torres, right?"


    "Yes, I am Gabriella. You''re Asa, correct?"


    "I am. My sister is Azrael."


    "You can call me Az. I usually just go by Az. A little more incognito, for when I don''t necessarily want people knowing who I really am." Azrael smiled.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Very well. I will remember that, Az." Gabriella nodded.


    Cynthia turned around when the door to the room opened abruptly. "I apologize for being late. I thought I left enough time for any traffic, but it would seem I did not. Myway Highway is still blocked off, so I drove down along the Waverwell Trainline. Long story short, I hit a bunch of traffic, and I apologize for being late. I''m here and I''m ready to go, though. Larson Hotch is at the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit camp and is helping in executing the Moonfall Precinct''s search warrant, and I am here in his place. I''m Sedge Valentine, assistant lead detective with the Moonfall Precinct, and I use he, him, and his pronouns. And hello, President Corville. It is a pleasure to meet you."


    "It is wonderful to meet you as well. Please, call me Cynthia."


    Sedge hesitated for a few moments. "Uh, alright, Cynthia. My apologies once again for being late. It will not happen again."


    "No worries. The traffic can be pretty bad. You should see the traffic in Dal. Standstill," Azrael replied, a smile playing across her face. "I don''t believe we''ve met before, though. I''m Azrael Smith, though you can call me Az. I use she, her, and hers pronouns. How''s it going? We''ll be working together to investigate Ashley Baok''s case, and I look forward to it."


    "It would be a lot better if we knew more about Ashley Baok''s murder and had solved it. It''s a bizarre one. But I look forward to working with you, too." Sedge set his bag on the table and pulled off his long overcoat, draping it over the back of his chair. Dark brown hair fell in uneven locks over his forehead. He was tall ¡ªsignificantly taller than Cynthia¡ª though he moved with an ease that didn''t quite seem to match with his lanky frame.


    "From what we have read about it, it certainly does seem unusual. But someone murdered Ashley Baok, whether it was one person or multiple, and so there is information, as well as clues. We just need to find them and piece them together in the right way." Asa shrugged, sitting down in the chair closest to her. Everyone else still standing followed suit.


    "Can''t you guys just do that?" Delta turned off his phone and set it beside him, looking up with an expression that reminded Cynthia of a petulant child.


    "Just piece together what happened to Ashley Baok?" Sedge paused from opening the files and pulling out notes and documents to glance up at Delta.


    "Yeah."


    "I''m afraid it is not quite that easy. I wish it was, and, in some cases, it is very straightforward to figure out what happened. However, in the murder of Ashley Baok, it does not seem like it will be that way. Of course, we are still only two days into our investigation and are ensuring we are searching scenes thoroughly, documenting every piece of evidence, interviewing everyone who we believe may hold information, and following up on every tip we receive."


    "Hm." Delta leaned back in his chair and stretched, placing his hands behind his head. When his phone dinged a few moments later, he picked it up and unlocked it, hunching over with his elbows on the table. Cynthia narrowed her eyes, irritation flickering within her, but she held her tongue: there were far more important things she needed to get done.


    Delta could wait for another day.


    "So, Az and I were looking through the documents you emailed to us last night. It seems like there are a bunch of holes in everything you''ve found so far. Did something not send right, or is that the case?" Asa leaned forward, forearms on the edge of the table.


    "No, I believe everything sent correctly, though I will have someone look at that just to be sure. There are a lot of holes and things we that are currently confused about but that we will look into and examine until we fully understand. At the scene of Ashley Baok''s murder, the land around it was completely bare. We didn''t find any footprints, but we did find a tuft of artificial fur on the branch of a nearby tree. However, there were a few overlapping footprints behind a bush about twenty feet away."


    "Yeah, we saw that." Azrael furrowed her eyebrows, nodding and mirroring Asa''s posture.


    "Considering that we found the footprints there but not around where Ashley Baok''s body was located, we''re thinking that there might''ve a witness. We''re still trying to find them, though, and confirm whether or not there was a witness. The footprints didn''t yield anything super helpful. We couldn''t get an exact footprint and what we could get from it, it seems the shoes they were wearing are quite common. We''re hoping they will come forward and contact us, but we are continuing to search for them as well."


    "We''d like to go take a look around the scene and at all of the photographs and documents that you have so far, but from what we''ve read, I agree, it does seem that way. I''d have to see everything to say for sure, but I''m willing to bet there was a witness to Ashley Baok''s murder."


    "If I may," Gabriella said. "How would having a witness change things? Is there something we could do as members of the government to aid in your search? We don''t have the knowledge or power you have as law enforcement, but we do have resources we can offer." Like Linda, she had a pad of paper out and was taking notes, though Cynthia didn''t expect they would be quite as thorough, instead focusing on what Gabriella found important and what she felt she needed to keep track of for her job in Waverwell government.


    "A witness means someone saw who murdered Ashley Baok. There wasn''t another body, so either they got away or whoever murdered Ashley Baok caught up with them elsewhere and killed them there."


    "And there isn''t anything as to what the possible witness might''ve looked like?"


    "No. The tire tracks on the gravel beside Myway Highway didn''t give us a clear answer on the type of car, and from what we can tell the car is likely a very common one, just like the shoes. From the location and that the tire tracks were relatively fresh, we do believe it was the possible witness, but we cannot be certain that they weren''t caused by someone driving who just so happened to stop on the side of the road and is completely unrelated to Ashley Baok''s murder."


    "Do you think there is a threat to the general public?" Cynthia asked. She hated the feel of the words in her mouth, the meaning behind them. "Are there any public safety measures we in Waverwell government need to implement?"


    Linda sat up straighter at Cynthia''s question, pen at the ready. Gabriella perked up too.


    Asa glanced at Sedge, then at her sister. A silent exchange Cynthia could not follow.


    Azrael was the one to speak, and it was clear each of her words were chosen carefully and measured out. "At the moment, the investigation is still so early. The answer to many questions is still I don''t know. But no one is going to stop looking and searching. Because there are so many unanswered questions, there is a potential threat, but until we have a better idea of the criminal or criminals we are dealing with and can offer a more exact plan, we cannot currently say. But we will keep you updated."


    "Do you think the rest of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit is in danger, too?" Charlotte asked. She frowned. "I mean, most don''t even know they really exist, but those they track down and arrest certainly have a reason to want to hurt them, even if it isn''t one we''d agree with. Perhaps one of the poachers sought revenge?"


    "It''s something we''re looking into, Mrs. Waver. But it is currently too early to say. I wish I could tell you right now exactly what happened and what the exact reason behind Ashley Baok''s murder was, but I cannot." Sedge gave a tight smile.


    Internally, Cynthia''s heart clenched, but she kept a neutral expression. Oh, I hope the search of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit''s camp yields useful information. Especially what the motive was behind Ashley Baok''s death. Who could''ve done something so terrible?


    Cynthia''s gut twisted, and she felt nauseous.


    Delta held his phone at arm''s length and took a picture.


    "Delta, do not send that. We are in a meeting. That is incredibly disrespectful, both to us, and to Ashley Baok," Cynthia snapped.


    "Someone wanted to know what I was doing. I need to keep my Muse popularity up." Delta shrugged.


    "Do not send that picture. I do not care what you do in your own time, but when you are here, in Waverwell''s government building, do not be on your phone. Take another picture or open Muse again during a meeting or any formal event, and you will be removed from office. I cannot believe I am having to say that, but here we are." Cynthia fixed Delta with her coldest glare. Delta didn''t reply.


    Asa and Azrael exchanged a subtle look, and Sedge''s expression spoke of thinly veiled discomfort.


    "Ok," Linda said, speaking slowly as if thinking out loud, bringing the focus back to Ashley Baok. "So, you''re searching the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit''s camp now and are collecting... evidence that''ll be helpful for you. But what comes next? Are you going to need funding, Sedge? Asa and Azrael will be assisting you. They have access to every resource at Waverwell government''s disposal, but will you need anything else? Because Ashley Baok was a member of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, a group that is a part of Waverwell government but is not involved in any decisions not directly related to Silverlight Forest or themselves, his murder will be treated the same as if a Waverwell government official had been murdered. I have Waverwell''s law if you would like to take a look." Linda held up a book labeled, in big golden letters, Waverwell Law, Updated Version. A bookmark stuck out from the pages, holding its place about halfway through.


    "Yes, we were made aware of that." Sedge nodded. "Of course, every murder is important and absolutely should be solved to give families and loved ones some closure and to hold those responsible accountable for their horrible actions, but we are treating Ashley Baok''s murder with more urgency. That is partially because of the fact that he was a member of an organization affiliated with the government and the law requires urgency, but also because of the nature of his murder. We do not know who did it or if they have plans to strike again. Until we know the motive behind Ashley Baok''s murder, we cannot say whether or not those responsible will kill again. But I can say with certainty that whoever murdered Ashley Baok has no qualms about torture or murder and no care for human life, and I do believe that, if given the chance, those responsible could and would kill again.


    "We will, of course, continue on every other case we have open right now, but Ashley Baok''s is one that will be taking priority. With how brutally he was murdered, how much we still do not know, and the fact that he was a member of a government organization, we are considering this a matter of national security. The Moonfall Precinct will be communicating with the other Precincts in Waverwell, and with Asa and Azrael Smith as the team working on Ashley Baok''s case."


    Linda hummed in reply, eyebrows furrowing slightly. She jotted down a few more notes and then turned to a new page. She brushed a lock of hair that had fallen into her face over her shoulder.


    "What do you need?" Guilt curled in the pit of Cynthia''s stomach, sitting heavily within her like a lead weight. Would Ashley Baok still be here if the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit had never been created? If I never signed it into existence?


    But another question wriggled its way into her mind: Did the lives of the animals saved and the arrests made by the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit somehow make Ashley''s murder a little less bad?


    Cynthia hated herself for thinking that. For letting the thought cross her mind. A human life was lost, and she was trying to make the murder of a person sound less bad. A little more palatable. Trying to make it sound worth it in some twisted way. How could the cost of a human life really make anything worth it? Whatever was won cost someone a friend, a spouse, a sibling, a cousin, a parent, a child, someone they loved. Someone lost someone they cared about. So how could anything be truly worth it if, at the end of the day, someone''s life was still taken?


    "As soon as this is over, I''ll take Asa and Azrael to Silverlight Forest so they can see the scene in person and go through everything we''ve figured out so far. I can''t say for sure, but I''m guessing we''ll need Myway Highway shut down for another few days. Am I correct in assuming you will likely be doing more press conferences to speak with the public?" Sedge turned to face Cynthia.


    "Yes, that is correct," she said. "Is there anything I shouldn''t say?"


    "Yes, most definitely," Sedge replied, nodding. "With a murder that is as big as this one is, it is especially important to keep certain details confidential. I will get you a list of everything you should not say by the end of the day. Most of the publicity surrounding Ashley''s Baok murder is that it was one of the most brutal, although many do know a bit about who he was and that he was a member of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. We do not want many of the finer details revealed, like the exact way he died. Saying that it was a brutal murder is ok, but the ways in which he was injured and the wounds that were inflicted upon him need to remain unknown to the public, as do the exact location. Anyone who watched Waverwell News or happened to be driving along Myway Highway as we were blocking off the area knows that it was in Silverlight Forest, but the scene cannot be seen from the road. No details have been revealed as to what Ashley Baok had on him or what he was wearing, and we need to keep it that way."


    "Understood. I will memorize the list and ensure nothing said to the public, either by me or anyone else, regarding the murder of Ashley Baok conflicts with the list."


    "One more thing before we''re done: nothing said here today in this meeting leaves this room." Sedge tugged his jacket from the back of his chair as he stood up, meeting everyone''s eyes with a hard stare.


    "Of course." Charlotte nodded, and Cynthia echoed her statement.


    "My lips are sealed," Gabriella said. She gathered the documents Sedge had brought and handed them to him. He offered a quick thanks in response.


    "I won''t say a word. Thank you for coming here and speaking with us. I hope this will be a straightforward investigation." Harold gave Sedge''s hand a firm shake that was returned.


    "Thank you," Sedge replied, though the hesitation in his gaze betrayed that he did not fully agree with Harold. The murder of Ashley Baok was not a straightforward case, at least as of where they were at currently. Something could change, but Sedge did not think so.


    Cynthia hoped that some piece of evidence would be found, and it would be that piece of the puzzle that made every other one fall into place. Something that would give someone that lightbulb moment and it would be oh, everything makes sense now! I know what happened. But something in her told her no. If one question were answered, more would only take its place.


    She hoped with all her heart it wasn''t true. It would be a straightforward investigation. Once the Moonfall Precinct ¡ªnow with Asa and Azrael Smith¡ª searched the locations first on their list, they would work out what happened and why whoever tortured and then murdered Ashley Baok did so, and it would be quick. Kristin Baok could get closure, as could the rest of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit.


    Cynthia took a deep breath. Perhaps once everything was figured out, the guilt gnawing a hole in her chest would subside. Maybe all the what if''s hurtling around in her mind would slow.


    "Why can''t I say anything? Imagine all the favorites and comments I''ll get. With a body like mine and my name... and saying that I''m helping out in a murder. I''ll get laid every night... multiple chicks a night. The hottest chicks in Waverwell. Imagine everything I could do. Oh, yeah." Delta''s gaze turned distant as he played out whatever fantasy he had dreamed up, a smile that Cynthia wanted to smack right off his face spreading like ooze.


    Nausea rolled in Cynthia''s stomach. Once Ashley Baok''s murder had been solved, she would look into getting Delta removed from Waverwell government. She was sure that if she went digging, she would find enough that would more than warrant his removal.


    "Helping out in a murder is rather generous," Gabriella muttered. Cynthia held back a snort of laughter. Helping out really was stretching the truth quite far.


    "You cannot say anything, Delta, because the information shared in this room during this meeting is confidential. I am happy to go through everything you can and cannot share with the public, though, if you''d like," Sedge offered, before adding: "As for you... getting laid, I do not have a place saying what you can and cannot do with your body, so long as everything remains consensual. But I am sure you can find a willing and eager participant without needing to mention anything about Ashley Baok''s murder."


    "You know," Azrael said, a hint of sarcasm laced through her words. "I''ve heard mentioning murder before... getting down and dirty really ruins the mood. There are far better ways one could go about finding a partner."


    "Yeah, you''re right, it really would. I''ll stick with what I know works. Pull the right cards and play the right moves, and they''ll just come rolling all in and I''ll pick the hottest, sexiest ones."


    "Delta?"


    "Yes?"


    "Please stop talking." Gabriella gave him a tight smile that dripped with false warmth and thinly-veiled disgust.


    "I think we''re done here." Cynthia clapped her hands, speaking before Delta could open his mouth.


    The desire to be anywhere that Delta wasn''t grew through every cell in her body like a weed.


    xxxx


    Cynthia and Charlotte led Sedge, Asa, and Azrael to the entrance of Waverwell''s government building. Azrael donned her coat and held onto the sisters'' briefcase in a gloved grip.


    "Thank you for hosting this meeting, Cynthia. It was an absolute pleasure to meet you."


    "Likewise, Sedge. If you need anything, don''t hesitate to reach out. And Myway Highway can remain shut down for as long as you need."


    "Understood. I appreciate it. Are you ready to go, Asa and Azrael?"


    "Yup," Azrael said. "We''ll follow you. Let us know which car you''re in, though, so we follow the right one. Myway Highway is a long stretch and I''d really rather not drive it all if I don''t have to. Beautiful scenery, but we''ve got a murder to solve."


    "Of course." Sedge nodded, buttoning up his coat.


    Cynthia watched as the three of them exited Waverwell''s government building. Charlotte took her hand and gave it a tight squeeze that Cynthia returned.


    A flicker of hope bloomed in her chest, a ray of light breaking through the darkest of nights. She didn''t know if anyone was listening, if anyone had some higher power and the ability to pull the strings of fate, but she silently asked that, if someone did exist, for them to allow the investigation into the murder of Ashley Baok to be a smooth one.


    Please, she pleaded. Ashley Baok didn''t deserve what happened to him. Let Asa and Azrael Smith and the Moonfall Precinct have as quick an investigation as one into a murder could be.

 NYTE - Chapter 14 - Charlie Springs - Oh, Im Sure Its Not Healthy

    Chapter 14


    CHARLIE SPRINGS


    Charlie didn''t like lying.


    It wasn''t that she couldn''t lie; she could.


    She could do so very successfully.


    It was that she didn''t like doing it.


    Didn''t like weaving that intricate web of lies. Didn''t like threading together the pieces of the story. Didn''t like ensuring there were no inconsistencies in what she said. Didn''t like casting out the net and ensnaring those around her within it.


    One could lie for selfish reasons. Lie with only malice and greed in their heart.


    But one could also lie for survival.


    Change little elements of one''s person. Say something was one''s favorite when really it''s another. Don clothing despite the way it makes one''s skin crawl. Act a certain way that''s far from who one is.


    Lie to appease society and make it a little easier to get through life, even though it felt like losing parts of one''s soul and slowly chipped away at the very framework of one''s being.


    Charlie lied for survival. It wasn''t life or death when she lied, but it was the difference between a fight or a quieter evening. The difference between being bombarded with harsh questions of why? and picky, backhanded compliments she could shrug off far easier.


    Lying was a forced skill of hers, one that, when she thought about it, she figured she probably started learning long before she could walk or talk. One of her talents she picked up during her childhood.


    xxxx


    "What''s your name?" Rift Oberhofer had asked, beginning their interview.


    They sat across from each other at the same picnic table Rift had interviewed Ren at. The sun shone brightly in the sky, and birds flitted through the trees in rapid beats of their wings.


    "My legal name or my actual name?"


    "Your legal name, please." Rift had offered a sympathetic smile, and Charlie had held back the knee-jerk crawling of her skin and the sensation of wrong, wrong, wrong that shivered up her spine.


    It reminded Charlie of the one time she''d gone to a ballet recital, too tired from school the week before to put up much of a fight. The instructor had smartly placed her at the back of the dancers, where few would be able to see her; she had spent more of the recital shifting in her leotard and adjusting how it sat on her body than actually performing. Perhaps if she found that right position for the leotard, then it wouldn''t feel so wrong, though she knew it wasn''t so much about how the leotard hung on her body and more about the leotard was on her body. The second the recital was over, she had ripped it from her skin, not caring that the delicate seams started to split and a few sequins fell to the ground, and changed into sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt, much to her mother''s chagrin.


    "You could write it down, if that would make it any easier. I apologize, I know it must not be easy. We need your legal name for our records that we keep of everyone we interview, though," Rift had said.


    "I know, I know," she had sighed. "I get why you need my legal name. But call me anything except Charlie Springs, and we''re gonna have problems." Charlie had straightened her back and lifted her head just a bit as her skin started to prickle and a defensive irritation flared in her gut.


    "I have put down that your name is Charlie Springs. I can add your pronouns, too, if you''d like. May I ask what they are? Mine are he, him, and his."


    "She, her, and hers."


    "Thank you." Rift had added them next to where she assumed he had written her name.


    "I... My-. My legal name is Rose Hendricks. H-E-N-D-R-I-C-K-S." Charlie had ignored the nausea that rolled in her stomach and forced down the tremors that threatened to wrack her body.


    "Thank you, Charlie."


    "Call me anything other than Charlie Springs, and I will make sure you regret it."


    Strike first, before they can hit you. Be aggressive; it will save you in the long run. Make sure only what you want seen is visible. Charlie repeated the mantras again and again in her head.


    "I have made a note that your name is Charlie Springs. No one will call you anything but that."


    "Good." Her voice was tighter than she would''ve liked, but it was too late to do anything about it.


    Rift had gone on to ask about the weeks prior to Ashley''s murder. If anything was different, if she thought Ashley had done anything unusual. But she hadn''t really noticed a whole lot.


    A few times, the thought had crossed her mind that perhaps Ashley might''ve been hiding something, but she never knew what and had brushed off the feeling.


    But, looking back at it, Charlie wondered if perhaps she''d been right. Perhaps those little details Ashley had masked near-perfectly had been him hiding something. How he''d been just a little more alert. How he''d been looking over his shoulder just a little more often. How he''d been tense, jittery. How his mind had seemed... elsewhere.


    He''d been acting almost normal. Almost. But that little gap between normal and not had been his tell.


    Charlie had only ever caught glimpses, little flickers she''d seen through the slightest gaps in the mask Ashley had built. The smallest of slivers, so tiny she thought she''d been imagining things.


    If Kristin hadn''t caught onto it, surely Charlie was making something up. Surely she was.


    A bird darted overhead when Charlie realized Rift had asked her another question. "Huh? Sorry, I missed that," she said.


    "I asked what you do in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit."


    Charlie settled into her easygoing persona, unbothered by everything. "Oh, ok. Yeah, so, basically, if you need to know where anything is in Silverlight Forest ¡ªPocket Forest, if you prefer that name¡ª I''m your person. All of us know the Forest extremely well, but I know every little nook and cranny like the back of my hand. Every species of flora and fauna, as well. I could tell you everything you could possibly want to know about pretty much anything in this forest. One of the perks of being able to get so sucked into something that manages to pique my interest that...," Charlie trailed off. "Everything else just fades into the background."


    Rift asked her about what the SFPU did and those they had arrested, how they worked as a group. Her mind was stubbornly stuck on if she''d known Ashley was hiding something in the weeks before his murder, clinging to it like a fly stuck in sap. Charlie answered Rift''s questions, though she remained distracted as she went from rabbit hole to rabbit hole in flashbacks to interactions she''d had with Ashley.


    Did she know Ashley had been hiding something?


    "You don''t seem very concerned about Ashley''s murder." Rift leaned back and crossed a leg over his other one.


    Charlie snorted humorlessly. "Oh, I am. I''m furious. Positively seething. My personality is a bit like all-or-nothing, though. Either I''m feeling every emotion known to exist, or I''m feeling pretty much nothing. Most often I''m just feeling numb. I''m sure it''s not healthy, but it''s kinda just how I roll. Some of why I often feel very little is probably my parents. Search them up if you''d like; I''ll bet there are articles buried somewhere that they weren''t able to bribe people into taking down. And some of it''s probably this job. It requires creating some sort of distance. It can get... difficult at times." Charlie''s lip curled as she spoke of her parents, but the tingling emptiness subdued much of the anger she''d felt.


    Better nothing than everything, she thought.


    "Difficult?"


    "Yeah, difficult. Sometimes we don''t catch poachers in time, and we find the bodies of animals they''d killed. Or we find the bodies of animals just as they die, or when nothing can be done except end their suffering. Other times the hunts for the poachers stretch on for the better part of a day. A few times it was...," Charlie paused as she thought back. "I believe a couple times it was almost a day and a half before we finally caught the poachers. Slippery little guys kept evading us. There have been several times where we were unable to catch the poacher and they came back again and again. Those were tough. Shall I run you through every poacher we''ve gone after? Zip and Kristin made a handy dandy database. I can show it to you, if you''d like. Just gimme a minute to go get the tablet." Charlie tried to keep the venom from her voice. Armor fell into place, and hackles rose on her back.


    Rift hummed, expression unreadable.


    "I didn''t murder Ashley, if that''s what you''re getting at. He was a friend, one of my closest friends. I had absolutely no reason to... to-. to murder him. Why the hell would I do something like that?" Charlie snarled as she choked on her words. She threw her head to the side as she fought against the burning in her eyes. Her anger sputtered out a few moments later after a slow exhale.


    "Do you have any idea why Ashley was murdered?" Rift kept an even gaze and didn''t respond to her outburst.


    "No, I don''t. I wish I did, though. I wish they were standin'' right in front of me so I could tell them just who they stole from this world." Charlie glared off into the distance, elbow on the table and knuckles pressed into her mouth.


    It wasn''t lying. Not technically. She didn''t know what was in Ashley''s journal. She couldn''t lie about something she didn''t know about. The only thing she ¡ªor anyone in the SFPU¡ª knew about the journal was that it contained something Ashley deemed important enough to hide. Who knew if it had anything to do with his murder?


    But a part of her felt that she was just trying to convince herself.


    Charlie took a deep breath to quell the irritation flaring within her.


    An alarm sounded in the SFPU house, slightly muffled by the walls and distance. Charlie spun around, mind clearing as she switched modes. Free time gave way to job time. Ferris, who had been talking with Zip and Kristin, jumped to attention. Ren called the dogs to their side, and they obeyed immediately. Morpheus lifted his head from where he lay at Ren''s feet.


    "Hey," Ferris said, waving down Larson, who had been trying to locate the source of the alarm. "That''s the Camera Trap alert. Someone''s in the forest."


    Larson narrowed his eyes, crossing the courtyard to stand nearer to Ferris. "Who''s in the forest?"


    "We don''t know," he replied. "There''s a small chance it''s just someone who wandered too far from the public trails on the west side, but most likely it''s a poacher, trapper, or some other offender. The alert will say where in the forest the person or people are and the video will give us a better idea of what they''re here for."


    "Show me this alert." Ferris led Larson into the SFPU house after the detective gave a quick signal for the other members of the Moonfall Precinct to return to what they were doing, and they continued searching through each room and labeling everything they had collected. Ashley''s laptop, his phone, some of his books that Charlie recognized as the ones he had been currently reading, and more she couldn''t make out from a distance.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Zip followed Ferris and Larson. The door slammed shut.


    Ren examined Morpheus''s side and the bandage covering his wound. Zip sat down and had Pyxis lay over his legs, a command he''d had Ren help him teach the dog after he''d found out Ren had taught the same thing to Somnus.


    Charlie turned back around to face Rift. "What other questions do you have?"


    "That alert is from one of the Camera Traps?" Rift moved his gaze from the side of the SFPU house to hers.


    "Yes. Zip coded the Camera Traps to send a signal to the television in the house that alerts us whenever one of the Traps is set off. Some coding trick or something he did only triggers the alert if it''s a person walking by, not if it''s an animal, though they record 24/7." Charlie brushed back a few locks of hair that had fallen into her eyes.


    "What information do you get from the alerts?"


    "We get the video footage of whoever set off the alert and tells us which Trap was triggered. If there''s a good view of the person''s face that matches the face of an offender we already have information on, we''ll get that. Zip''s still fine-tuning the program to make sure it''s accurate, so we don''t really use it yet. Once we have a sense of what we''re going into, we''ll go to the person''s location. The Camera Traps will send alerts to the tablets we have in each of the vehicles. They won''t alert in the same way, but they keep us updated as the Traps get set off."


    Before Rift could reply, Ferris reappeared outside of the house. Rift''s eyes looking over Charlie''s shoulder made her turn around. Ferris met her gaze. It''s not good, he silently told her. "It''s someone new. They triggered Camera Trap 24. From the video, it appears they''ve got several weapons and have materials to set snares."


    Charlie winced. "That''s not good," she said.


    The unspoken question hung in the air: Can we go after the offender?


    Larson broke the silence. "I will dispatch several officers to arrest the trapper. They will deal with the alert. I need you all to remain here."


    Ferris''s expression tightened almost imperceptibly, but Charlie managed to catch it. "Understood. I can keep you updated if any more Camera Traps are triggered and the information we get about the offender from the video and what wildlife they might be after based on where they head."


    Larson stepped off to the side and spoke into his radio, though it was out of earshot for Charlie.


    "We''re done here, Charlie. Thank you for your time. We will reach out if we have any more questions."


    "Got it." Charlie stood up and shook Rift''s hand.


    xxxx


    Larson Hotch and the Moonfall Precinct remained at the camp for the next few hours. They went through every room in every building, continuing to collect various things of importance. Charlie didn''t know what the items showed or didn''t show, but she didn''t ask.


    They could take it all if it would help catch those responsible.


    The officers sent to arrest the trapper did so and brought the offender back to the Moonfall Precinct, then returned to the camp and helped sort through everything gathered.


    Charlie and Ren stayed outside in the courtyard with the dogs, occasionally answering a question or giving a code to a locked room or safe. Kristin paced back and forth, looking at everything the officers brought out with sad eyes.


    Charlie could feel the weight of officers'' gaze on her, watching and taking note, but she didn''t pay them any mind. They could stare all they wanted. See if I care.


    Officers searched Ashley''s room several times, turning it upside down, and Charlie wondered what everything would look like when she walked back inside. How much of what the house looked like previously would remain.


    Her stomach twisted. Which was the right decision? Tell the Moonfall Precinct when Ashley said not to tell anyone? Or don''t tell them and risk keeping potentially eye-opening information from them? Not knowing the journal''s full contents made her flip back and forth on what she felt was right all the more.


    But, with a herculean effort, she shoved the feelings down and locked them away. No use in ducking down rabbit holes she didn''t need to. She had given her word that she wouldn''t mention Ashley''s journal unless explicitly asked a question of which the journal was a clear answer, and she wasn''t going to break her promise.


    Kristin''s wish was that knowledge of Ashley''s journal be kept to the SFPU until they knew more about it. Charlie would respect that.


    So, she didn''t mention Ashley''s journal.


    And, several hours later, the Moonfall Precinct packed up their things. Each piece of evidence they took ¡ªfrom articles of clothing, to calendars Ashley had written, to copies of tapes from the Camera Traps¡ª had each been sealed in a bag and given a detailed label before being placed in a tub and stacked in the back of a car.


    Larson Hotch bid a farewell, stating yet again that he was very sorry for the SFPU''s loss and that he would work tirelessly to figure out what happened. Ren kept the dogs by their side, allowing one of the officers to say a quick hello to Somnus after they asked. He was the friendliest out of the three dogs. Pyxis and Morpheus would never react to a person touching them unless told to do so, but Somnus enjoyed it the most, and his tail wagged as the officer scratched him on the head.


    Kristin asked Larson in a tight, snappy sort of way if he knew what had happened to Ashley.


    "I''m sorry," Larson said. "We do not know yet. The second we do, we will tell you immediately."


    "Can''t you just work faster?" Kristin demanded, voice beginning to crack.


    "We are working as fast as we can. We want Ashley to get the justice he deserves, but we need to make sure the investigation is done right."


    Kristin produced a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a sob. "Are you o-ok?" Zip asked, moving to stand in front of Kristin.


    "No," he spat in reply before adding on: "Sorry, that was rude."


    "Ashley... Ashley just died. Murdered."


    "It''s not an excuse."


    "It... it is, a-a bit." Zip stared at the ground, hands tapping his thighs as he rocked on the balls of his feet.


    When Ferris showed Larson the letter Cynthia Corville had sent and asked about Asa and Azrael Smith, he explained that the two detectives would be assisting the Moonfall Precinct with Ashley''s case. As Waverwell law required, Ashley''s case was considered the same as the death of a government official, as the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit was held in the eyes of the law as a government organization due to it being funded primarily by Waverwell government.


    A few anonymous donors gave money to the SFPU as well. Ferris likely knew who they were, but Charlie never asked. A part of her thought that there was a good chance one or more of the donors were her parents, sending sizable checks in an attempt to get her to talk to them.


    No way in hell, she thought, hoping that they''d be able to hear her from where they lived in the outskirts of Corville. Still technically in the city, so they could say they resided in Corville, but far enough out that the massive price tags on properties dropped to the point that they could more easily afford a home that was still luxurious enough for their tastes.


    Charlie wondered as she held back a snicker what her mother would say if she saw where Charlie was living and working. She had a hundred guesses, all of which revolved around some form of a tight smile as polite as could be forced so as to not be rude, followed by a string of backhanded comments about the house, what she was doing that slowly morphed into statements about what a woman should do and how the SFPU was not that.


    Cold tingled across her skin, and she locked away her train of thought before she could fall into it too far.


    She clenched her fists and cracked her knuckles, shifting on her feet. She needed to get out of the camp, leave. The urge to run was an itch she couldn''t quite shake off. Not be here was steadily pushing itself to the forefront of her mind.


    As soon as the last of the Moonfall Precinct cars left the courtyard and the gates closed behind them, Charlie excused herself and ducked into her room to change into her well-worn hiking boots and shuck on a coat. She tucked her notebook and pen into a pocket.


    "I''ll be back later," she told Ferris and slipped out of the fence surrounding the SFPU camp before anyone could say anything.


    Trees surrounded her, and the scents and sounds of the camp gave way to those of the woods. The earthy smell of the soil and the chirps of the birds. The soft smell of pines and the gusts of the wind. Twigs snapped beneath her feet as she hiked out further without an exact destination in mind.


    Lost was never a concern of hers. She knew every tree in Silverlight Forest better than anywhere else in Waverwell. More than once she had made wrong turns in Corville and had to hitch a ride back home, but she had never lost her way in the Forest. It made sense to her in a way that nothing else had.


    The only time another member of the SFPU had come to find her was when she had gotten so sucked into studying a family of crows that she hadn''t realized hours had slipped by and hadn''t heard her phone buzzing with calls and messages. Ren had let the dogs track her as practice, and they''d laughed when she explained what had happened, pulling her into a brief hug that Charlie was too surprised to have received to return it.


    No one had really been mad; they were all relieved she was ok and had echoed Ren''s laugh at her story. Ferris had said he was glad she got interested in the crows to the point that she''d hyper focused on the family but to try to communicate where she was going better.


    She usually did tell someone or she left a note with an estimate of she''d be back. But this time the need to get out of here had taken over her brain. The only complete thought she could manage was escape. Get out as fast as she could.


    Charlie didn''t remember much of her walk. One second, she was just outside the SFPU camp, and the next she was at Silverlight Lake. Trees gave way to grasses and then to gravel and then to clear water. A gentle breeze stirred branches and fronds, creating a soft melody that harmonized with birdsong. Waves lapped at the shore, and small fish leapt from the depths of the lake.


    The dock that stretched a ways into the lake was rickety, planks worn from exposure to the elements and a general lack of care. No one really used it, and the SFPU''s time could be better spent elsewhere, so the dock was left to its own devices.


    Charlie hopped across it, careful in where she placed her feet. Several cracks split open a few of the planks and a handful of holes littered the surface. Patches of moss sprouted along the waterline of the posts holding up the dock, creeping up the sides like green ooze.


    She sat down at the edge, hands clenched in tight fists.


    Her heart pounded in her chest, and her fingers trembled.


    Ashley was dead... but how?


    Couldn''t she have changed something? Perhaps if she''d done something differently a few days ago, maybe it would''ve altered something? What if a month ago she''d eaten something different for breakfast? Would it have set off some domino effect and then Ashley would still be here? Would it have played with the strings of fate and kept him alive? Created some butterfly effect with one seemingly insignificant action causing such a dramatic change in time?


    Charlie knew it was something she should work through, but she didn''t even know where to begin processing something like the death of a friend.


    Ignoring things and shoving them to the side was always far easier. She''d done it in the past and it had worked, so why switch things up now?


    But it wasn''t working. The iron defenses she''d constructed around any feelings she might''ve felt regarding Ashley''s murder were beginning to crumble.


    Feeling nothing was easier than feeling everything... yet it wasn''t working.


    Charlie let her legs swing over the edge of the dock and she let her head fall into her hands.


    Why''d you have to go, Ashley?


    Charlie pulled her notebook from her pocket. Perhaps a distraction would let her better push away her traitorous thoughts.


    The palm-sized booklet was filled with various pranks and jokes she''d thought up, ranging from small ones she could do at a moment''s notice to big ones that would likely take weeks of planning. Some were crossed out, either because she''d done them or she decided they wouldn''t work. Others were circled; ones she wanted to do and had started putting the pieces in place.


    She jotted down new possibilities and altered existing ones. She ran through what she''d need and how she''d get everything in place for various pranks. She sorted them into lists of ones she could do to everyone, ones only to some people, and ones that perhaps she should save for later until she was certain it wouldn''t be taken the wrong way.


    But nothing could take her focus off of the hurricane of emotions and feelings that threatened to break free of the locked box she''d shoved them into. A storm she couldn''t begin to figure out how to process. Where to start processing.


    Charlie bared her teeth and let out a sharp snarl.


    Why couldn''t things just be easier? Couldn''t she go back to feeling almost nothing at all? Sure, she didn''t get to feel the endless joy when something piqued her interest and the bubbling excitement that came with finding out something new about something she liked. But she didn''t get the lows. The consuming pain and choking grief she felt with Ashley''s murder. Couldn''t she go back to feeling nothing so things wouldn''t hurt so much?


    Charlie wrapped her arms around her middle and squeezed as hard as she could. She let go when the action made her think of Ashley and the hugs he gave. The ones that provided almost a physical manifestation of comfort.


    She sighed.


    As her scrambled mind settled into more coherent thoughts, she knew she should send someone in the SFPU a message to tell them where she was. Her phone was a lead weight in her pocket, and she couldn''t bring herself to fish it out.


    "God," she murmured, voice low and hoarse. "Why is this so difficult? Couldn''t it have just been easier? Just continue on with how things were before? Ashley still here and everyone still tracking down poachers?"


    Charlie pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her arms crossed over her knees. A bird fluttered over the lake, and a fish broke through the waves, light glinting off the spray of water droplets that followed the flash of scales and fins.


    Silverlight Lake always held a peaceful feel, one that could put her mind at ease when she needed time alone. It was always a safe haven from the sights and sounds of the cities in Waverwell, instead holding the sights and sounds of nature. Soft greens of trees, soothing blues of water, melodious birdsong, calming breezes.


    But it didn''t have the same effect now, despite Charlie''s silent pleas that it would.


    A wolf slowly padded through the trees a ways off, strides long and confident. Tawny fur shifted with each step, and piercing blue eyes almost seemed to glow in the sunlight.


    "Madaket," she whispered, holding her breath as she sat a little straighter.


    Five more wolves broke through the treeline after the Silverlight Pack''s alpha female, led by the alpha male, Ten.


    Charlie had rarely seen the wolves in-person, and she could count the number of times on one hand. Most had been from far away and only the briefest of glances. Much of the information she had on the wolves was either through video footage taken by the Camera Traps or by indirect methods, like looking at their kills or tracks.


    But the wolves were so close here. Close enough that she could see the patterns on their coats, see the shades of their eyes. Close enough that if they were to attack her, she would have nowhere to run; they were far faster than she could ever hope to be. She wasn''t worried, though. Something told her that the wolves meant no harm. They wished to exist in the same space. She wouldn''t go near them, and they wouldn''t go near her.


    Madaket lapped at the water, while Beck, the yearling pup, pounced on a clump of moss. His mottled brown fur gave him excellent camouflage, and Charlie almost didn''t notice him at first until he crossed onto the pebbles lining the lake.


    Was that you, Ashley? Did you send the wolves to me?


    Are you telling me you''re ok?


    Despite her attempts, her heart still clenched in her chest and a wave of pain crashed over her. A soft whimper slipped from her lips.


    Madaket looked up, tilting her head to the side. She watched Charlie through icy blue eyes, and Charlie watched back. Madaket pricked her ears, tawny fur framing her face, and her nose twitched as she scented the air. Charlie bit her lip as Madaket ducked her head in what looked like a nod.


    If it was you, Ashley, thank you.

 NYTE - Chapter 15 - Zip Furr - Whyd You Lie, Though?

    Chapter 15


    ZIP FURR


    Zip Furr really needed to put a lock on his door.


    Well, what he really needed was to lock his door. There were locks on every door to the room of an SFPU member; he just needed to actually fasten it.


    After the Moonfall Precinct had left, Charlie had promptly vanished and Zip had nearly sprinted to his room, already on the verge of a meltdown and desperate to avoid it, if at all possible.


    He kept the lights off and wrapped his weighted blanket around his shoulders as he crawled into bed, closing his eyes and focusing on the pressure. His breaths came short and shallow, mind still scrambled from having the Moonfall Precinct come and execute their search warrant.


    The unpredictable nature of working in the SFPU was ok. It was fine. Zip could never accurately guess exactly what the day would bring, but it held some semblance of routine, of knowing what came next. The camp was always the same, the SFPU members were always the same people, he always controlled his projects. Even tracking down poachers always retained some form of familiarity; the goal never changed and the methods used changed depending on the situation, but it was predictable since he was always aware of how things would be different.


    But having twenty or thirty unknown people bustle around the camp with next to no warning was far too much.


    Zip shifted further back on his bed and pressed his spine into the wall, curling up on his side and burying his face in his pillow to drown out as much stimuli as he could. He fiddled with the buttons on his coat, snapping them in and out of place again and again.


    He teetered on the edge, hovering on the verge of a meltdown. He could feel it building up within him, a looming storm on the horizon clouding the skies into something dark and eerie.


    Zip knew what the Moonfall Precinct was at the camp for. Knew the reason behind it. And he agreed with it full-heartedly.


    But he was still trying to figure out what the new normal would look like without Ashley. Still trying to figure out what emotions he was feeling regarding Ashley''s murder. Still trying to get through the aftermath of the shutdown he experienced after learning of Ashley''s death.


    Having the Moonfall Precinct arrive with only a brief period of time to get ready pushed him to the brink of a meltdown, and masking to appear as normal and socially acceptable as he could manage only sent him ever closer. Pyxis laying across his legs and the pressure it gave had let him hang on until the officers were gone, but by the thinnest of threads.


    Zip twisted the blanket around his body until he was cocooned within it and could barely move, though his fingers holding it tight scratched at the surface. He counted out breaths, matching the lengths of inhales and exhales and tapping out the seconds against his skin to get the physical sensation of time.


    Despite his best efforts to fend off the meltdown, he spiraled higher and higher, drawing closer and closer to the point of no return. The point at which he lost control and could only wait it out as his body found some sort of balance again.


    Zip''s door wasn''t locked ¡ª the thought that a lock actually existed never crossed his mind as he fled to his room to try and calm down.


    Ferris opening the door pushed him over the tipping point, and something inside of him snapped.


    "NO!" Zip cried, lurching upright. The burning in his eyes gave way to hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He knelt on his bed. Ferris was across the room, but it felt far, far too close. Like they were both right next to each other, and Zip thrust out a hand, unable to form his thoughts into words.


    Ferris frowned, but he stopped and stepped back until he was standing in the doorway, understanding Zip''s gesture.


    "Are..." Ferris trailed off and didn''t speak for several long moments. "What''s going on?"


    Zip tried to arrange some sort of explanation, a sentence that would get something across. But his mind was spinning, brimming with thoughts that hurtled around, battering the tattered fringes of his brain. He shook his hands on the sides of his head and then tugged at his hair, breaths shaking in his chest. If he could just formulate a sentence, he could tell Ferris that he was sorry, that he hadn''t meant for this to happen. But his voice wouldn''t work.


    "It''s ok if you can''t answer right now," Ferris said. "I''m going to stay right here. If you need anything, just let me know. I don''t know if you have your phone, but you can message me, if that would be easier for you. Or write it down."


    Ferris didn''t move from the doorway, but leaned against the frame before sinking to the ground with a dull thump and a groan of discomfort. A part of Zip jumped at that. He knew there was something he was supposed to do, but he couldn''t think of it. Something he was supposed to say, but he couldn''t remember what.


    Zip rocked back and forth. His room felt too small, choking confinement, but anywhere else felt too exposed, open air.


    Get a grip. Act normal. Get over it. You''re too sensitive. It''s not that loud. It''s not that bright. It''s not that bad, you just need to get over it. Normal people don''t do that.


    The words chanted in Zip''s brain, voices distorted but still recognizable to those he heard as a child. They taunted him, venom dripping from every syllable and tones dipping into something monstrous. Demons stretching out their talons to take seize his chest and shred his flesh until it was torn into ribbons.


    Zip struggled to get his breathing under control, to slow his racing heart.


    Ferris didn''t move or say anything more. He didn''t press or insist upon an explanation. He didn''t say to stop stimming, to quiet his hands and sit still.


    He just gave Zip space.


    xxxx


    The first time Zip had a meltdown as a member of the SFPU, it was something he had known was likely coming for about a week. He had put so much effort into coming across as normal as he was able to and had pulled out all the stops to mask as best he could. The SFPU was a haven he had never gotten, and he didn''t want to risk losing it, not when he felt the most like himself he had ever felt.


    But masking slowly pushed him to a breaking point. He had ignored it and hoped that perhaps the haven of the SFPU camp would be enough to fend off the meltdown, though he knew that wasn''t how it worked.


    And one morning it happened. Tracking down a poacher stretched far into the night, and knocking his smoothie across the counter was the last straw. Masking left him drained and running on energy he didn''t have, staying up for so long left him exhausted down to his bones, and spilling his smoothie pushed him over the edge. He didn''t remember much of the meltdown; his mind was static. But he knew he shoved Charlie and shouted as she tried to ask what was wrong. He knew he had shattered a glass when he scrambled backward to try to escape.


    After the meltdown, the group was confused, and Zip wondered if that was it and he was going to have to leave. He had braced himself, tried to ready himself to hear that he needed to pack his things and go. Except all that happened was an attempt at understanding what had happened and what they could do in the future.


    xxxx


    As Zip slowly calmed down and his thoughts cleared, he shuddered in his blanket and sighed. He didn''t mind being autistic. It wasn''t some sort of superpower in his mind, yet it wasn''t something he wished to be cured of. It was just a thing about him ¡ªlike that his hair was curly or that he enjoyed eating pizza¡ª that was neither positive nor negative.


    But the meltdowns sucked.


    "Sorry," Zip murmured once he could formulate a sentence in his mind.


    "It''s ok," Ferris replied, looking up from where he still sat in Zip''s doorway. He scratched the back of his neck. "I apologize. I think I might''ve, uh, triggered the meltdown when I walked in here. I''m sorry."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    "I was..." Zip trailed off as he pieced together the string of words. "So close by the time you... opened the door. If-if... Wasn''t you, would''ve been something else."


    "I wish we''d known the Moonfall Precinct was coming so we could''ve had some time to adjust and get ready."


    Zip shifted further back onto his bed until he was leaning against the wall. He curled his legs beneath him and kept his gaze on the desk on the opposite side of the room. Having any form of eye contact felt far too intimate and uncomfortable, especially now. "Didn''t... didn''t want us hiding things."


    "Still."


    Zip hummed in reply.


    "Ren is making some sandwiches if you''d like."


    The idea of food made Zip''s stomach contort and protest, but he knew he should at least try to eat something. He was sure there was something that would sound... if not appetizing, than not unappetizing.


    And so Zip found himself slowly nodding and untangling himself from the knot of blankets wrapped around his limbs, wiping at his eyes to clear away the drying tears.


    Ferris gave a small smile and allowed the time he needed to get out of bed, steady himself as he stood up, and make his way to the kitchen.


    The house felt empty, hollow in a way it never had before. Like everyone was holding their breath, waiting on something.


    Something that could never come, Zip thought as he rounded the corner and paused at the edge of the room, though Ferris continued on to the fridge.


    Ren sat at the counter on one of the stools and assembled a sandwich, stacking lettuce on top of cheese with a robotic precision that didn''t fit them. They moved with a graceful ease, yet this was almost jerky, movements sharp in a way that didn''t look right.


    Kristin had his back to Zip, though tension was written across every cell of his body and he almost seemed to be vibrating.


    "Do you want me to make you a sandwich, Zip? Your usual?" Ferris glanced back as he pulled out a bag of carrots from the fridge.


    "Yeah," he replied, folding himself onto a chair on the opposite side of the table from Kristin.


    A partially made sandwich lay in front of Kristin, as did a jar of peanut butter and another of jelly. He gripped the knife tight enough that his knuckles paled, and the slices of bread on the plate in front of him each bore indents and gouges around the toppings spread haphazardly.


    Zip didn''t say anything as Kristin pushed some more peanut butter around and managed to stab a hole through one of the slices of bread. He cursed softly, and the knife clattered on his plate when he threw it down. A tear rolled down his cheek.


    Ren silently pushed a glass of water across the table before they sat down next to Ferris, who was just beginning to eat. The ham and cheese sandwich Ferris placed in front of Zip was identical to the one he ate most days, but now it looked as though it was comprised of cardboard.


    Kristin took a deep, trembling breath, eyes squeezed shut and fingers curled into bloodless fists. He exhaled sharply through his teeth and his lip curled. Ren glanced up but didn''t say anything.


    "Kristin," Zip started.


    "What?" Kristin''s voice was as tight as a bow string.


    "Could you... the workshop-. I-I... Need your help." Zip winced as he spoke and hoped that his voice was stable enough.


    Both Ren and Ferris narrowed their eyes.


    Kristin looked up and frowned. Zip squirmed under the combined attention. "You need my help?"


    Zip nodded.


    "What do you need my help with?"


    "I... show you? It would... it would be easier."


    It was several moments before Kristin replied. "Fine."


    He followed Zip out of the house, leaving his sandwich abandoned on the table.


    xxxx


    When Zip reached the workshop, he held the door for Kristin and then sat down at his desk and ruffled through the papers strewn across the surface and the bits and pieces of prototypes for various ideas he had. He pulled out the latest sketch of Hades. The edges held scribbled-out notes on the coding he would likely need to do, possibilities on what wheels he could use and where he would be able to get them, and the middle was filled with a loose drawing of the driving structure of the robot, with colored lines and shapes representing the wires, bolts, and the parts needed to assemble Hades successfully.


    Zip drummed his fingers on the desk as he modified a few joints until the structure of what would become Hades looked right.


    Kristin stood just inside the doorway, head tilted to the side, until he pulled out one of the stools beneath the table in the center of the workshop and sat down, perched on the edge and hands folded in his lap.


    He didn''t say anything and stayed that way for close to ten minutes, only breaking the silence when Zip got up to paw through the boxes of parts on the shelves on the side of the room opposite the desk to see if he had the right motor for the wheels of Hades.


    "What do you need my help with?"


    "Nothing," Zip said, picking up one of the motors to take a closer look.


    "You don''t need my help?"


    "No. I''m working on Hades. I... yeah. That''ll work." He returned to his desk.


    Kristin exhaled. "So why did you ask for my help?"


    "You..." Zip paused as he pieced together a sentence he hoped was right, setting down the motor beside the sketch. "You looked like you-you were going to cry... but you didn''t want to."


    "You thought I was going to cry, so you lied and said you needed my help so I would come here." It wasn''t a question.


    Zip shrugged, glancing back at Kristin for a brief moment before turning back to his desk. "I thought maybe... maybe you would want to be somewhere else. Usually works for me. Sorry for lying. Didn''t know if you would''ve come otherwise. Sorry."


    Zip felt Kristin''s gaze on his back. His shoulders sagged like a popped balloon, and he let his pen fall from his fingers. It dropped to the ground, but he didn''t pick it up.


    Maybe he shouldn''t have said anything. He should tell Kristin he could leave. He should, right? Zip''s mind scrambled to figure out what the right thing to do would be. He had told Kristin he was sorry, although words didn''t always line up with what someone actually meant. Perhaps there was a way he could show that he was sorry? Something he could do?


    "Thank you," Kristin said.


    Zip spun around so fast that the back of his chair slammed into his desk. Did he hear that right?


    "Thank you," he repeated.


    "You''re welcome," Zip replied immediately.


    "Why''d you lie, though, if you don''t mind me asking?"


    Zip paused for a moment, but when he started speaking, the words flowed out of him faster than he could think them through. "I... I saw you were crying. Er, looked like you were-were going to cry. And then there was the... the tear. I-I... I don''t know what to do in those situations. I still don''t know what to do. Now, too. I thought that... that perhaps if I-I asked you to-to help me, then you''d leave and you''d be more comfortable somewhere else-. Somewhere else where there-there were less people. Fewer people, sorry. But I... it seems maybe I didn''t do it right. Sorry."


    "You''re fine, Zip. No need to apologize. I appreciate you bringing me here. You were right," Kristin said with a short, humorless laugh, and he sucked on his teeth before continuing. "I didn''t really want to be at that table, but I couldn''t bring myself to leave. It just... it doesn''t feel right doing anything. Not when..."


    Kristin''s voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.


    "I miss Ashley, too." Zip pulled his legs to his chest and tapped his fingers against his knees.


    "It doesn''t feel real."


    "It doesn''t," he echoed.


    Kristin took a breath. "Do you think I was right to not tell the Moonfall Precinct about Ashley''s journal?"


    "Do I think you were right to... have us not tell the-the Moonfall Precinct about Ashley''s journal?"


    Kristin nodded.


    Zip tilted his head to the side, repeating Kristin''s question again as he pondered over the words. "I... I don''t know what''s in the journal. Apart from-from the little part we''ve read, ''course. S-so... so I don''t know that... that I can really say."


    "I know," Kristin sighed. "I keep feeling like I made a mistake in saying not to tell them about his journal. Maybe it would''ve... would''ve blown a big hole in the unknowns surrounding Ashley''s-. Surrounding his... his... his murder. But maybe it wouldn''t have. Maybe it''s just a journal about what he did each day and it''s got nothing that would give any indication as to any reason why... why someone would do that-. Maybe it''s got nothing to do about that."


    "I... don''t know. I don''t think anyone knows. Er, w-well. Except for... for Ashley."


    A silence fell over the room, a hint of tension settling in but remaining soft. Not easy ¡ªZip doubted that would return any time soon, if ever¡ª but not a choking and smothering quiet.


    Zip turned his chair back around and fiddled with the wheels on Hades, twisting wires together and arranging them around the robot''s frame to ensure that both everything was connecting how it should and that there would be room for every element needed in the robot.


    Kristin rested his head in his hands. When Zip heard the first shaky inhale, he froze and glanced back, unsure of what to do. He gave it another few minutes before standing up crossing the room to stand near Kristin.


    "Do you want a hug?" Zip asked, scratching the back of his neck.


    "Do I want a hug?" Kristin echoed the question after a moment of calculating quiet, eyes narrowed. His voice cracked and his lip quivered, but neither of them mentioned it.


    Zip nodded.


    "Do you want a hug? I don''t want to make you uncomfortable."


    "I guess." He shrugged and shifted on his feet, fingers fiddling with the hem of his pants.


    "''I guess'' isn''t consent for a hug. If you don''t want a hug, we won''t hug. There are other ways to find comfort. Just being right here... this is really quite nice and quite comforting. Thank you for bringing me here, Zip. I really appreciate it," Kristin said, wiping away a couple of tears from his eyes. "You don''t have to give me a hug just because you think it''s... necessary or something."


    Zip chewed on his lip for a few moments. "I know," he started before trailing off. "I... I do want a hug, though."


    He held Kristin''s gaze for longer than he normally would have, hoping to show him that he really did want the hug. Kristin seemed to find whatever he was looking for, because a few moments later, he stood up. "Alright."


    Zip stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Kristin''s middle, keeping his grip loose in case Kristin stepped away. But he didn''t, and he placed his hands on Zip''s back, touch light.


    Zip didn''t usually like hugs. Physical touch often felt too intimate, too uncomfortable. He usually preferred offering support and comfort in different ways, mainly quiet company. But when he didn''t mind them, hugs felt warm and pleasant. His hug with Kristin was just that.


    Kristin''s grip on the back of his shirt tightened, as did Zip''s.


    When Kristin pulled back, he had a small smile on his face. He patted Zip''s shoulder, touch lingering, before taking a step away. "Thank you, Zip. I... I really appreciate what you did."


    Zip ducked his head in a nod. "You''re welcome."


    "Can you tell me about the robot?"


    "Ok."


    Zip returned to his desk, standing off to the side to allow Kristin to see better, and walked him through the plans for Hades and what the robot would be able to do once complete: disable vehicles and keep them from starting, either by blocking the exhaust pipe or, perhaps more simply, slashing the tires.


    Kristin seemed distant as he listened, but Zip didn''t mind talking about the robot, especially if it would offer him a bit of comfort.

 NYTE - Chapter 16 - Chad Malcolm - The Whistleblowers Claims are False

    Chapter 16


    CHAD MALCOLM


    Chad leaned back in his chair and stared at his computer. Numbers and graphs flickered across the screen, rotating in a cycle, and Chad couldn''t help but chuckle. He plucked the polished piece of Arkreon from beside a handmade mug of lukewarm coffee with a handle that resembled Leviathan Inc.''s serpent logo and twirled it between his fingers. He huffed another laugh.


    "We did it, Darcy," he said, lifting his head to stare across the room toward his wife, who sat behind a desk of her own. A bouquet of flowers he had bought obscured a portion of her face. "We did it."


    Leviathan Inc. ran entirely on Arkreon, and every aspect of the company ¡ªfrom the mines to the factories to the power lines¡ª worked flawlessly. Just as he and Darcy had dreamed of. Just as they had spent years planning after discovering the rock and its capabilities.


    "We did." Darcy smiled, a soft laugh falling from her lips. Her hair fell in loose curls that framed her face, and makeup accentuated the gleam of her eyes, giving her the appearance of a goddess.


    "Our dream is coming true."


    Chad stood up from his desk and crossed the room to rest his hands on the couch dividing the joint office space. Darcy followed suit and moved to stand beside him, placing a palm on his back. Chad looked down as she spoke. "We should do something to celebrate. Perhaps it''s time to open that bottle of wine we''ve been saving? A romantic dinner on the bluffs on the outskirts of Cat''s Cradle? Or on a boat on Wishing River?"


    "I like the sound of that," Chad murmured, leaning down to steal a kiss. "I think either sounds lovely, because I''ll be there with you." He traced a knuckle down Darcy''s cheek, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.


    "Now you''re getting all sappy."


    "But you love me."


    "And you love me," Darcy said, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Chad''s lips.


    xxxx


    They pulled apart when Malibu knocked on the door. "Come in." Chad sat down on the couch, and Darcy followed suit, smoothing her dress down her legs to flatten out invisible wrinkles.


    "Hello," Malibu said. "How are you doing?"


    "Very well, thank you. What do you have for us?" Chad and Darcy''s office had a strict Do-Not-Disturb policy; no one was to come to them, unless it was an emergency, vital to Leviathan Inc.''s wellbeing that they be aware of it, or Malibu had an update on something for them.


    "May I sit?"


    "Please." Chad gestured to the couch across from him and Darcy. Malibu offered a quick thank you before she sat and pulled out a stack of papers from her briefcase and spread them across the glass coffee table between the couches. They were stapled together in groups of a few pages each.


    Headlines glared up from the papers. Big, bold letters forming screaming headlines in all-caps. Each one revolved around one thing: a new disease spreading in Corville and Dal that a whistleblower said was the fault of Leviathan Inc.


    "Well, that''s just not true now, is it?" Darcy pursed her lips, leaning forward to peer down at the headlines.


    Chad hummed in reply.


    He wondered who the whistleblower was. If they had ever worked at Leviathan Inc. during the time they were using Arkreon ¡ªeither in the past when they were testing it, or during the present when they were using it to create energy¡ª they would''ve signed a non-disclosure agreement. Saying anything, especially to a news station, would''ve been a breach of that.


    Chad would press charges against them.


    "Do you know who the whistleblower is?" Darcy set down one of the articles published on Did You Hear?!


    "No, not yet. I have people looking into it as we speak. The second we find something, I will let you know."


    "Work faster," Chad said. "I don''t like how this makes Leviathan Inc. look. Bad about the disease, obviously, but we have homes and businesses to power."


    "We''re going to be getting questions," Darcy said. "We''ll have to make sure we answer them right. This isn''t the fault of Leviathan Inc. or Arkreon, but we still need to word things carefully."


    "And get ahead of the press," Malibu added. "Rumors are going to be spreading, and we will have to get ahead of what people will be saying so only the right information gets out. People will talk regardless of what we say, but if we can keep the information the right information as much as we can, hopefully rumors will shift to other topics and people will forget." Malibu took a sip from her Leviathan Inc. water bottle and then set it back down on the edge of the coffee table, away from the papers.


    "Indeed," Chad murmured, nodding his head. "We could do some sort of press conference-style meeting and invite reporters to ask questions. It would be a good opportunity to dispel as many rumors as we can."


    Malibu chewed on her lip. "Yes, we could do that. We''d need to be careful what we said. Everyone, reporter or not, will eat up every word we say and look at every syllable under a magnifying glass. We''d need to ensure every letter is exactly what we want them to hear."


    "You''re right."


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "People are going to be expecting some sort of response from us. I feel like us not saying anything might almost say more. I''d be willing to bet a lot of money that many would take us staying silent as us admitting that Arkreon caused the disease," Darcy said.


    "No, no, you''re right, Darcy. I do agree that we will need to make some sort of statement, either through Muse, a live interview, or some other avenue." Malibu leaned back in her seat, suit jacket bunching as she shifted.


    "We..." Chad trailed off and didn''t continue, scratching his chin.


    "Whatever we do, there are going to be people who agree with what we say and those that don''t, regardless of the actual words we say. It could be the most factual, true statement ever to exist, and there would be people that didn''t like it, or it could be the most made-up, false statement ever to exist, and there would be people that did like it. We just need to ensure that what we say comes across the right way," Darcy said.


    "Agreed. Whatever we say, it''s going to get people talking. We''re already under the spotlight, simply because someone called us out with the new disease in Corville and Dal, and we''re not going to be able to fully control the situation. That being said, I think with a press conference we would be able to better control how things come across. With a written statement, it''s just words and you have nothing else to go off of. No body language, no tone, nothing like that."


    "That''s true, Chad," Malibu started slowly, before adding on, pace of speaking picking up again. "There are pros and cons to any manner of communicating with the public. It is true that a press conference or otherwise in-person method of addressing the public gives you body language and tone of voice that a written statement lacks. But you also cannot fully prepare for every detail. You cannot control what is said or asked, and you cannot take back what you say; if you make a mistake, people have already heard it, even if the cameras are not recording live."


    Chad nodded, humming in reply. "What would you recommend?"


    "No matter what we say or do, people will be upset, and we will be painted in a negative light for a period of time, simply because someone decided to say that Leviathan Inc. is at fault for the disease. That being said, I think, as of right now, a statement will suffice. The disease has just been discovered and, currently, very little is known about it. Depending on how things unfold, we may need to do a press conference and answer questions, but I believe a statement will work."


    "A statement it is, then."


    xxxx


    The Leviathan Inc. Muse account contained countless posts, every one of which focused on increasing the buzz and popularity surrounding the company. Clips from videos taken during interviews, photos from meetings, and announcements of we''re hiring; come join us! or we''re having a party to celebrate the opening of our newest building; tickets are on sale now! posted regularly had increased their following.


    The statement Chad was about to add was sure to cause a dip in followers, although he knew they had already lost many because of the article floating around. Not saying anything would cause a bigger loss than saying something.


    The comment sections on Leviathan Inc.''s latest posts crawled with demands of answers and accountability.


    Darcy ran a thumb across his forehead, and Chad snapped up his head to meet her eyes. "Stop frowning. It''s not a good look on you. Now, did you read over the statement again? Malibu and I think it''s ready, but we''d like your opinion, too."


    "I did give it another look-over. I think it''s ready as well. Would you like to do the honors, my love?"


    "Very well." She leaned across to reach the mouse of Chad''s computer and clicked the post button.


    "I will have a few people keep an eye on Muse," Malibu said. "And we will continue to dig into the story of the whistleblower more. Hopefully they''ve given clues as to their identity."


    A few seconds later, the statement was available for all to read. Half of Chad felt tense, wary of how people would react and if it was the right thing to do, and the other half felt relieved, glad he could move on. Besides, he was the co-founder of Leviathan Inc. so why should he be second-guessing himself? He had built one of the most successful companies in Waverwell.


    We at Leviathan Inc. are saddened by the news that a new disease is spreading in Corville and Dal, and we send our thoughts and prayers to those affected. A donation to the Corville Medical Center will be made under Leviathan Inc.''s name to support the work that the amazing doctors there are doing. We have added a link in the comments section of this post that will bring you to the donate page of the Corville Medical Center. If you have the ability to give, anything will help, and 100% of donations go to funding research done by doctors at the Corville Medical Center.


    We would also like to address the claims made by a whistleblower, who stated that Leviathan Inc. and Arkreon are the cause of this terrible disease. What the whistleblower has said is false. The disease was not our doing.


    Safety is our number one priority, and it is something we take very seriously. We have many safety procedures in place at every step in the energy-creating process, and we look over each procedure frequently to ensure the safety of everyone, customers, employees, and anyone involved in any part of our business. For an in-depth look at the safety procedures we have in place, please visit the safety page on our website at LeviathanInc.com/safety.


    Arkreon is a new energy source, but it was examined closely to ensure it was safe to use and was tested extensively before even being considered as an alternative to coal, solar, hydroelectric, or any other current source of power. We only began to plan Arkreon''s implementation after it passed every test and proved its safety.


    The whistleblower who made the claims that Leviathan Inc. and Arkreon are responsible for the horrible disease is not speaking the truth.


    Chad read over the statement again. It was too late to take it down; people had already begun to comment on it and share it.


    He closed Muse before reading anything anyone had said. Darcy gave him a quizzical look.


    "I need a break from this," was all he said.


    "Do you need to take a walk? I can finish up in here with Malibu."


    "That would be great, thank you. I''ll be back in fifteen or twenty minutes."


    The hallways were empty, and the afternoon was beginning to give way to evening. Cars honked in the streets, the precursor to the evening traffic jams and bustling sidewalks.


    But, instead of heading for the streets, Chad stepped into the elevator and went up, making his way out onto the rooftop balcony of Leviathan Inc.''s Corville headquarters. Several couches and chairs formed a semicircle around a low coffee table. A sprawling series of succulents spilled across a wide bowl in the middle of the coffee table. Neatly trimmed plants dotted the railings and sat in elegant pots. Strings of light overhead gave the space a magical air that felt worlds away from the professional environment within the building. Apart from Chad and Darcy, few had been up to the rooftop balcony. It required a key card, and most didn''t know it existed, making it the perfect place to step away for a quick moment to take a breath.


    Chad leaned his forearms on the railing and looked out over Corville. Lights flickered on as the sun inched toward the horizon.


    He frowned, watching a car drive by on the street below until it turned out of sight. Was the whistleblower someone he knew? Were they someone who had worked at Leviathan Inc.?


    Questions raced through his head, swirling around into a mess he couldn''t straighten out, though he knew he would. He had to so he could clear Leviathan Inc.''s name and prove it wasn''t them.


    It might take a bit of time, but he would make sure everyone knew Leviathan Inc. wasn''t at fault.


    Starting with the whistleblower.

 NYTE - Chapter 17 - Ren - A Primitive Safety Response

    Chapter 17


    REN


    Ren''s sandwich was about as appetizing as milk left outside for a week in hundred-degree heat, but they managed to choke it down.


    "Do you think Kristin will let us take another look at Ashley''s journal?" They asked, picking at the leftover crust from their sandwich.


    Kristin and Zip still remained in the workshop attached to the SFPU garage, leaving Ferris and Ren to finish up lunch together.


    Ren had cleared the plates when Ferris ate the last of his meal, standing up and collecting them before he could move to do so. Their stomach twisted at the sight of Kristin''s partially-made sandwich, slices of bread littered with gouges and holes. It felt like an echo, a physical manifestation of what Ashley''s death left behind. The tattered pieces of pain and confusion and grief, so tangled up that Ren wasn''t sure they would ever be able to pull them apart. Not while the wounds were still so raw.


    "I''m sure Kristin will at some point," Ferris replied. "It''s something of Ashley''s, and it seems Ashley felt whatever he wrote was of great importance. I''m not sure when Kristin will want to open the journal, though. It could be later today, or it could be a few weeks from now."


    Ren nodded.


    "Do you have a Muse account?" Ferris asked.


    "Do I have a Muse account?" They echoed his question.


    "Yeah."


    "No. Why?"


    "I found the account Ashley mentioned in his journal. CaspianLyonAuthor. I can only see the description of the account, though. To see the posts, I need a Muse account."


    "Do you think Ashley left hints?"


    "I don''t know. I just don''t like sitting around. It feels like I''m doing nothing." Ferris huffed a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair.


    "I feel the same way," Ren murmured, staring down at their hands. "I want to be doing something as well, yet I have no idea what."


    But really, what was there that they could do that the Moonfall Precinct wasn''t already doing? The Moonfall Precinct were the ones with every resource possibly needed to get to the bottom of Ashley''s murder, not Ren. They had years of experience and training, and Ren didn''t. They had a network of contacts that Ren lacked.


    The only thing Ren had that the Moonfall Precinct didn''t was knowledge of Ashley when he was alive. What he was like. What he did. An inside look at who he was that couldn''t be gotten through stories told by another.


    But that could only get Ren so far, because, at the end of the day, they still didn''t have the capabilities of the Moonfall Precinct.


    Sitting around didn''t feel right, though. It felt too still, too close to giving up.


    CaspianLyonAuthor might just be Ashley''s fake Muse profile and might give nothing more than whatever posts he had created for his alter ego, but it at least gave the illusion of doing something. And the thought of possibly getting some sort of information was tantalizing enough that Ren stood up and crossed around to the other side of the table to sit next to Ferris.


    Until Kristin decided to open Ashley''s journal again, his Muse profile was something to look at.


    Ferris had already begun to scroll through the posts.


    "What did you put as your username?"


    "ToryFairy77. There''s a story behind it, but it''s a long one."


    Ren nodded and took the hint. They were curious, yes, but they weren''t going to push. Not when Ferris wasn''t in a sharing mood and had only said there was a long story to skip past questions about the username. And not when there were more important things that needed to get done. Perhaps another time, but right now they needed to look at Ashley''s Muse profile for his author persona.


    Ren peered over Ferris''s shoulder. He scrolled through posts on CaspianLyonAuthor, most of which were selfies of someone who looked like Ashley in the vaguest sense. The only real similarity was the same dark skin Ashley had.


    "Do you think he photoshopped himself?"


    Ferris glanced up from his phone briefly before zooming in with two fingers to get a closer look. He narrowed his eyes and replied a few moments later. "No, I don''t think so. Ashley went through a lot of effort to create this Caspian Lyon persona so he could hide his journal. I''m not as knowledgeable about technology as Zip is, but someone would probably be able to undo any editing Ashley did on a photo of himself and trace it back to him. He might''ve photoshopped a photo of someone else, though I''m not sure."


    "I think you''re right. With enough effort, I have no doubt that any photo that was once obviously of Ashley could be traced back to him. And-... wait, when was the last post uploaded?" Ren leaned over as Ferris scrolled up to the last picture released, humming a soft reply.


    It was a copy of the faux Pockets of Gold and Silver, a book similar to Ashley''s journal; a leather cover and golden letters, although there was an image of two small children, each carrying an overflowing bag of money over their shoulder in the middle. A steaming mug filled with coffee was placed above the book, giving the image a staged feel.


    "It looks like it was posted about three weeks ago. Did we have anything going on three weeks ago?" Ferris set his phone down, tilting his head to the side and squinting in thought.


    "I''m sure we did, but I don''t believe it was anything super unusual. We arrested Pyr Iskie a week or two before that."


    "I''ll look at the records when Zip comes back. I don''t want to disturb him and Kristin." Ferris''s voice softened.


    Ren nodded.


    Nothing in the SFPU camp had changed; everything was where it should have been. And yet when Ren returned with the rest of the group after finding out that Ashley had been murdered, it felt so dramatically different. Like something in the fundamental makeup of the camp had been modified so it resembled a place Ren knew so well, but that would never hold that spark of something they hadn''t known was so crucial until it wasn''t there. Something they hadn''t known to look for, something they hadn''t known they''d miss, because it was something they had never known to think about.


    A drizzle began outside, as if echoing the somber feeling in the kitchen of the SFPU house, and raindrops trickled down the windows.


    Ren pressed a hand to their chest, and the beginnings of tears prickled in their eyes. "It hurts so much," they found themselves saying. "And knowing that Ashley didn''t get whatever mercy a quick, painless death could''ve offered makes it hurt so much more. The pain he-... And yet, I can only imagine what it feels like for Kristin."


    "I can''t imagine what it feels like for him either," Ferris murmured, leaning forward on the table. He stared at his hands and fiddled with his fingers. His jaw worked and he swallowed, lip trembling. "Time can heal many wounds, but... but there are some that can never truly heal."


    Ren took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to quell the quiver in their throat.


    "We each had a different relationship with him," they said. "Kristin had a very different relationship to him, being his brother. But... I don''t really know what I''m trying to say."


    Ferris didn''t respond, but he gave a subtle nod. His watery eyes were fixated on his hands, but his gaze seemed distant. Elsewhere.


    xxxx


    Charlie came through the door a little while later. Her hair stuck to her skin and her clothes dripped onto the floor. "Whoever decided it should be raining now made a terrible decision," she grumbled as she peeled off her coat and threw it over the back of the couch, holding onto it as she stepped out of her sneakers.


    The hard edge in her eyes ¡ªsomewhere between frustration and pain¡ª made it clear asking where she had been would not be a good decision. She was not in a sharing type of mood. Pushing would only cause her hackles to rise further. Ren held their tongue.


    But when Charlie turned around and saw Ren and Ferris at the table, her cross expression softened. "Oh," she said. "Hi, I guess. I''d ask how it''s going, but I don''t think that''s a great question right now."


    Ren shrugged. "It''s ok."


    "I''m gonna change, but either of you want something to eat when I come back here? I''m feeling snack-ish and I''m pretty sure I haven''t eaten or drank in the last several hours."


    "I''m good," Ren said. "But thank you."


    "Something small? I could probably eat something if it''s ready to go." Ferris glanced up


    "I think there are some hardboiled eggs."


    "I''ll have those, please."


    "Alrighty. I''ll be back in a few."


    Charlie ducked down the hallway that ran parallel to the kitchen and living space in the SFPU house, and her door shut behind her. Ferris watched the empty space she had been standing in just before for several moments until he picked up his phone again. He unlocked it and scrolled through the last few posts on CaspianLyonAuthor.


    Ren let the silence sit before they decided to break it. "Are you going to show that to Charlie?"


    "Show what to me?" Charlie returned, padding into the kitchen and pulling a shirt down her torso. Ren saw Ferris staring at the band of skin on her waist and quickly looking away when it became covered with a light blush, but they didn''t mention it.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "I searched for the Muse account Ashley mentioned in his journal," Ferris said. "It does exist and looks like what I''d imagine an author''s social media might look like. You were able to figure out the patterns and clues Ashley put in his bookshelves. I thought that perhaps he put clues in the Muse account as well. I didn''t see any, but I also wouldn''t be able to decipher anything from his books."


    "Once you know what to look for, it''s actually pretty straightforward. It''s just knowing what to look for and where. But yeah, I can take a look. CaspianLyonAuthor?"


    "Yes, that is the account."


    "Lemme see," Charlie said, making a grabby motion with her hand. Ferris handed over the phone, and she pursed her lips, scrolling through.


    "ToryFairy77. Fun name. How''d you choose that one?" Charlie glanced up.


    "Long story."


    "Alright, very well. Ashley really went to town creating Caspian Lyon and making him very author-y. Getting each picture to look that high quality and keeping the story straight on who Caspian Lyon is and what has already been said and what hasn''t? That''s a lot of work."


    "Are there any clues you can see in the posts?" Ren asked.


    Charlie shook her head. "I''m not seeing any that follow the patterns he used in his bookshelves. I could take a longer look later to make sure I''m not missing anything and go through every post, but I don''t believe there are any here, at least within the first few I''ve looked at. It also doesn''t seem very likely that Ashley would''ve put clues in any of his posts."


    "Why?" Ferris took his phone back when Charlie gave it to him.


    "Muse accounts are open to the public; anyone can see any account, provided they have one of their own. Ashley''s bookshelves are private. Mostly. CaspianLyonAuthor is not private. At all. He wouldn''t''ve been able to control who saw anything he posted on the account."


    "Anyone would be able to see anything within the posts," Ren murmured, mind working over Charlie''s words. "Someone could''ve pieced together what Ashley had hidden within them."


    "Exactly," Charlie said, making her way over to the fridge and pulling it open. "I''m not saying there aren''t any clues, I''m just saying CaspianLyonAuthor is a hell of a lot less secure than Ashley''s bookshelves, at least as far as controlling who''d be able to see said clues, knowingly or not. However, I can guarantee you that if there is anything Ashley has hidden within the posts, it has been hidden well. Very well. Better than... probably anything ever hidden in the history of Waverwell. Might be somethin'' in his journal, though. Some hints, a guide, maybe a fun little treasure map. Why''d you look at this again?" Charlie turned around, a package of ham in hand and a slice well on its way to her mouth.


    At least some things haven''t changed, Ren thought. It was obvious that a part of Charlie''s behavior was an act; it lacked the ease and grace her actions normally had. A bit too robotic and prickly to feel wholly natural. Yet going to the fridge to find something to eat midway through a conversation was entirely her. In Charlie''s words, I''m hungry. I''m still listening even if I''m not staring into your eyeballs. If I don''t find food, I''m not gonna be listening because I''m going to be thinking solely about food. Lemme get something to eat. Ren couldn''t argue with that.


    Ren huffed a small laugh as they watched Charlie grab a glass of water, an apple, and a bag of chips, some hardboiled eggs, balance them with the package of ham in her arms, and then make her way back to the table. She deposited them in a haphazard pile, plucking up the apple before it could roll off the edge.


    "Ashley mentioned CaspianLyonAuthor in his journal, and Caspian Lyon is the pen name he used when he published the book version of Pockets of Gold and Silver." Ferris twirled his phone in his grip. "And I don''t like sitting around. It feels like I''m not doing anything, even though I don''t know how much I can really do. The SFPU doesn''t have the same capabilities that the Moonfall Precinct does."


    "Here. Some hardboiled eggs." Charlie pushed the container of them across the table as she sat down.


    Ferris held it up with a frown. "I don''t want eight of them. I like eggs, but not that much."


    "In case you get hungry later. Or share some with Ren."


    Ferris rolled his eyes.


    "Yeah, that''s right. He did put CaspianLyonAuthor in the journal. I forgot about that. Maybe there are some clues in there." Charlie leaned back in her chair. Her expression brightened with realization, and she crunched on a mouthful of chips, chewing in thought. "Yeah, I''ll have to look over the account again in more depth. There''s gotta be some reason he told us that. Don''t think Ashley would''ve said something like the Muse account of a fake author he created just cuz. I wanna see the journal, though. Might be some clues as to if there are clues in Caspian Lyon''s posts."


    Ren shook their head. "We''re going to let Kristin decide when we look at Ashley''s journal again."


    Charlie nodded with a shrug. "Yeah, probably a good idea. Where is Kristin anyway? Zip, too. Didn''t see either of them when I got back to camp."


    Ren looked out across the courtyard toward the garage. The door to Zip''s workshop was still closed, just as it had been when he''d led Kristin into it.


    "They''re both in Zip''s workshop."


    Charlie raised her eyebrows, a chip pausing partway to her mouth. "Are they now?"


    "Not like that," Ferris sighed, exhaling in a way that echoed exhaustion down to his bones. "Kristin was about to cry and Zip brought him away so he could get some time alone. He wasn''t going to remove himself from the table. We all knew that. Zip just reacted first."


    Charlie huffed, shoulders drooping and gaze falling to the side. She took several breaths before she turned back to Ferris and replied. "I didn''t mean it like that! Come on, Dipper. I''m not always too serious, yeah, but I''m not gonna make jokes like that about Kristin and Zip. Not when things are like this. You know Ashley and I had the biggest teasing streak going. We were always messing around. And now we... now we-. We don''t. Zip always gets so uncomfortable when anyone mentions anything about him and Kristin, too. I rarely take most things seriously, but I know where the lines are that I shouldn''t cross."


    "It sounded like you were, though, Charlie. Sounded a bit like you were implying Kristin and Zip were, you know-," Ren murmured, crossing their ankles beneath their chair and leaning forward on their forearms. They kept their voice soft and even, watching Charlie carefully for any reaction on her part.


    Charlie blinked innocently ¡ªthe only thing her expression and actions gave away¡ª and then interrupted Ren. "It wasn''t a joke. I was merely surprised, that''s all. Zip rarely does anything like that." She paused as her shoulders drew up, chewing on her lip before continuing, and the words spilled from her mouth. "Do you ever think I don''t care? Or that I take things to far? Cuz... I-I do care. I don''t want to hurt anyone''s feelings. I don''t want you to think anything like that, since I don''t want to be that type of person. Does it come across that way? I-I... God, why can''t things just be easier? I don''t even know what my brain is doin'' right now."


    Charlie''s lip curled and she exhaled a sharp breath through her teeth, eyes flashing. Her fingertips dug into her cheeks as she placed her elbows on the table to cradle her chin in her palms.


    "I know that you care, Charlie," Ferris said. "I apologize for anything I did that made you think otherwise. I know that you care very deeply, and I have never questioned that. Not in the slightest. I realize that I could''ve been clearer in what I said. This is a stressful and tough time for all of us, and I''m not thinking as clearly as I could be right now. I will try to be more careful in what I say in the future."


    When Charlie looked up, Ren caught a flash of pain within her eyes, but she covered it up a fraction of a second later, hiding it behind towering walls. She huffed a short laugh and ran a hand through her hair. "Glad you didn''t think so."


    Charlie shifted on her seat, pulling a leg up. She chewed on her lip, a slight frown wrinkling her forehead as her eyes flitted across the room, lingering on the window that offered a view of Zip''s workshop and the garage. Ren was just about to ask what had her so on edge when Charlie spoke first.


    "Either of ya looked at Waverwell News recently?" The ease in Charlie''s voice felt far too casual, and Ren wondered what she had seen.


    They hadn''t kept up with anything happening in Waverwell. Ashley''s murder was more than their mind and body could handle; the news would only add to the stress. Arresting poachers, too, but the Moonfall Precinct would take care of that.


    "You haven''t?" Ren and Ferris nodded in unison at Charlie''s question.


    She hummed. "Someone said that new disease in Corville and Dal was caused by Arkreon and Leviathan Inc. knew about it. No idea if it''s true and didn''t really read the article, but that''s what the claim sounds like. Regardless of the truthfulness of it, it''s awfully juicy. Did You Hear?! is probably like eighty percent articles on that claim right now."


    Ferris unlocked his phone, likely looking up the story to read it himself.


    Ren narrowed their eyes.


    Leviathan Inc. was one of the most well-known companies in Waverwell, arguably the most well-known. Ren thought Chad and Darcy came across as a bit haughty, but they''d never met the owners. As with anyone famous, there would be rumors and gossip. And most of it would be without much-needed context, false, or stretching the truth so far that it closely bordered on false.


    "Well, the claims will certainly stir up quite a bit of drama," Ferris said, looking between Ren and Charlie as he spoke. "But I''m not seeing any concrete proof right now. The article I''m looking at is the first one posted on Waverwell News. It was posted... it looks like, uh, this morning. One of the writers got a letter from someone saying Leviathan Inc. skimped on safety measures and that Arkreon is the cause of the disease. The person is anonymous and didn''t give their name in the letter."


    "So the claims could be true or it could be a baseless dig at Leviathan Inc.?" Ren drummed their fingers on the table.


    Ferris nodded. "Yeah, that sums it up."


    "What''s your login for Muse? Just downloaded it and I''ll need it to see Ashley''s account." Charlie held her phone up and wiggled it. The minimalist sign-in page was pulled up on the screen.


    "You can create your own account. It''s free."


    Charlie sighed. "I suppose I could. I''ll just have to make sure I don''t forget the password."


    Ren smiled at that. They''d been there several times when Charlie had dragged Zip to her phone or laptop so he could reset the password because she had forgotten the login information, username included. He''d told Charlie to write them down somewhere secure, but Ren wasn''t sure if she had actually done that.


    "You will have to remember what you put as the password," Ferris agreed with an amused look on his face, though it didn''t quite reach his eyes. "I don''t think Zip wants to keep resetting your passwords because you can''t remember any of part of the login information."


    Charlie gave him a cold scowl.


    "Yeah, whatever," she murmured after a long pause.


    xxxx


    It was the evening when Kristin decided to open Ashley''s journal again.


    Dinner had come and gone with Charlie fishing out leftovers and random already-opened packages from the fridge and cupboards for everyone to nibble on, and the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife as Kristin leaned against the kitchen counter, journal in hand. His body was tense, held close together like he was moments from falling to pieces. Ren thought that perhaps that wasn''t too far from the truth.


    The rest of the group was seated at the table, right where they were for dinner. Kristin had been, too, but he had stood up, likely to get a bit of distance, and no one had asked him to stay.


    The room was silent. Kristin stared at Ashley''s journal, eyes drowning with grief and pain. His fingers trembled, and his knuckles paled.


    Ren found themselves holding their breath. What could be so important that Ashley had asked the SFPU not to tell anyone about? At least, not to tell anyone until they had figured it out, whatever it was.


    There was plenty Ren knew Ashley had felt was important, but anything they could think of was all something anyone would be able to figure out easily or would already have known: Kristin, his friends, his job, reading, the prank war he had going with Charlie.


    What was it Ashley had written about? Apart from Charlie, Ashley had been the most open one in the SFPU. Yet he had hidden the journal, and even Ren hadn''t known it existed until Charlie had found it.


    Kristin visibly steeled himself before he opened the cover of Ashley''s journal with the care that would be given to the most precious of items.


    Ren heard Ferris draw in a sharp breath. Charlie sat up a little straighter, and Zip perked up from the pen he had been assembling and disassembling.


    Kristin trailed a finger down the page, tracing over Ashley''s writing. He closed his eyes, and a tear slipped down his cheek. Ren wanted to go over to him, but they knew it was a moment that he needed to work through on his own.


    He continued reading through entries of Ashley''s journal, flipping through the pages seemingly at random. No one broke the silence. The air was thick, pressing down, insistent in a way that Ren could never quite forget, but it hadn''t dipped into a choking, screaming quiet.


    But then Kristen stopped. He was nearly at the end of Ashley''s journal; only a handful of pages remained. Ren tensed. Something had shifted, and the hair on the back of their neck prickled. A primitive safety response saying to be alert, get ready. Something''s about to happen.


    "Oh, God." Kristin lowered the journal, blood draining from his face as he looked up. No one spoke, but the what? was nearly audible. Ren held their breath.


    "Those whistleblower articles on the news..." His gaze dropped back to the pages. His hands trembled, and Zip scrambled to his feet, taking the journal before it fell. Zip cradled it in his arms like a live grenade, setting it down on the table as he climbed back into his seat. Ren wasn''t entirely sure Kristin realized Zip had taken the journal.


    "What about them?" Charlie pressed when Kristin didn''t continue. Her voice sounded distant, even though she was only a couple of feet from Ren.


    Kristin drew in a shaky breath. And then another.


    "Ashley knew about that," he murmured, voice almost inaudible. "Ashley knew about what the whistleblower said long before the articles were released."

 NYTE - Chapter 18 - Ashley Baok - And Then It Will All Be NYTE

    Chapter 18


    ASHLEY BAOK


    Two Months Ago


    Sunday


    Dear Diary,


    Charlie made a quiche last night in a pan. It was pretty good. There weren''t any leftovers. Although... I''m not sure how much that really says about us. You know, being that the SFPU is six people... and we all eat an awful lot. If it''s edible, someone will eat it. *sheepish shrug* haha. You should see the grocery bills, Diary. My bank account is very happy that the funds from Waverwell government cover all aspects of the SFPU, food included.


    Charlie forgot to clean the pan, though.


    She got to the kitchen before me. Before everyone else. Which is really quite surprising, actually. She''s usually the last one to the kitchen most mornings. I think it''s that she needs her beauty sleep, but don''t tell her I said that. The dirty look she can give borders on real daggers materializing from her glare. I''d like to live.


    The string of curses she snarled could make a sailor blush. You should''ve heard what she said, Diary. I''m not sure I''d like to write it down. You might get uncomfortable. It was some rather colorful words. I can''t say I''d heard some of the word combinations she said, but I suppose you learn something new every day. I''m not sure that''s quite what I had in mind for today''s learning, but... learning is learning, I guess.


    I thought someone had broken in at first. Charlie''s voice held an edge to it that has only happened when we''re tracking down offenders. Thankfully that was not the case; instead, she had forgotten about the pan and it never got washed. And she was very annoyed about that. Very.


    She sulked through breakfast. Ferris was generous enough to offer to clean it for her, but she shot him down. Apparently he wasn''t going to ''get her to owe him anything.'' Her words. I don''t believe she was really mad at him. She got a letter a few days ago that she seemed quite furious about, and I think she was still prickly about that. You should see Charlie when she gets grouchy, Diary. She can, like, fillet you with her words. Wicked sharp tongue.


    Don''t get me wrong, Diary; Charlie is a great friend. She''s kind and loyal, and she will goof off incessantly if you''re sad to cheer you up and make you smile. And she will stand up for what she believes in with a frankly absurd amount of courage and dedication. She won''t back down. Her moral compass is one of the strongest I''ve seen.


    You know I grew up in Cat''s Cradle, Diary. There are some pretty bad people there. Puppet masters with their pawns on taut strings and no heart beating in their chest (I actually might bet real, actual money that if you cut one of them open there would be literally no heart. Like, no sign of a heart at all). A python in the bushes, just waiting for the next unsuspecting victim to walk by. A whispered promise, a distracting gesture, then extra Corvilles squeezed out and a signed document held overhead with threats against friends and family backed by photos and flashed knives. Do what I say or else. Another strung-up pawn.


    And I know right and wrong don''t fall into neat little black-and-white categories, as lovely as that would be. It''s an awful lot of grey, and the definition of what''s right depends greatly on who you''re asking. The protagonist of a story thinks the antagonist is wrong, but the antagonist thinks what they''re doing is right. In the antagonist''s mind, they''re the protagonist.


    But Charlie goes with her heart, and she will follow it until the end of time with a bullheaded stubbornness. As do the rest of the SFPU, to different degrees and in different ways. Zip is far more logical, as is Ferris. And Ren trusts their gut, what their first instinct is about something. It''s part of why I pushed so hard for Kristin and I to join. I want to work alongside people who follow their heart, not the biggest paycheck. I want to work alongside people who do it because they love it and believe in what they''re doing, not because they''re striving to add the next zero to their bank account balance.


    Haha. All that talk about Charlie kinda makes it seem like I''ve got a little crush on her, doesn''t it, Diary? Shall I write our initials here? Put a loopy heart around them?


    Nah. I don''t like her in that way. I like her as a friend, nothing else.


    Anyways, Charlie cleaned the pan after breakfast, but the leftover quiche in it didn''t come out. Ferris once again offered to help clean it, and she again shot him down. She grumbled while scouring it since the sponge wasn''t working and she couldn''t use one of those bristly scrubbies ¡ªwhatever the hell they''re called¡ª since it would scratch the pan.


    Now, don''t get me wrong, Diary. We''d help if Charlie asked; we weren''t sitting by and idly twiddling our thumbs and ignoring her requests for assistance. I might''ve done it, but you know me and dishes don''t get along, Diary. I would''ve done something else to help. Maybe hunt around and see if any Musers had tips or something. AshleyTheMuseAccount won''t use itself, you know?


    Charlie just wanted to do it on her own.


    But when Charlie made some comment that the eggs were dry and kept sticking to the pan, Zip said ¡ªwith probably the best straight face I''ve ever seen, Diary¡ª that sitting out all night will do that to eggs.


    The room went silent. Like, you-could-hear-a-pin-drop silent. Charlie turned around in movie-style slo-mo with a gaping expression. She just stared for another few moments before doubling over in laughter, and then everyone started laughing. It was I''m-crying-and-my-stomach-hurts-so-much laughter. I don''t think Zip realized he''d get that reaction, but he was laughing, too.


    You shoulda seen it, Diary. The delivery was... it couldn''t have been better. Like, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect. The most nonchalant, flat tone and expressionless face. Like how you might talk about the weather. I can''t think of any way it could''ve been better. Zip''s delivery was spot on. I don''t think it would''ve worked if it had been anyone other than Zip. Anyone else, and I think it might''ve fallen flat.


    The pan did get clean. Just in case you were wondering, Diary. It''s clean. It''s drying on a towel. The eggs were no match for Charlie''s determination that the pan WOULD get clean. It absolutely would. She wasn''t going to stop until the pan was spotless. I''m pretty sure she started hyper focusing on the task.


    Ferris was the last one at the breakfast table, even though he finished first. Probably something about wanting to be there in case she needed something.


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Enough about the quiche situation, though.


    I''m going on a supply run tomorrow, so I''ll be back on Tuesday. Shouldn''t be too big of a supply run, just groceries and a few odds and ends for the camp.


    Until next time, Diary


    Ashley Baok


    Tuesday


    Dear Diary,


    That was about the world''s weirdest supply run.


    The bizarrest (yes, Diary. That is, actually, a word. I''m making it one) supply run in the history of Waverwell.


    So, you see, it started off fine. Right? Ya followin'' me, Diary?


    You know, walking around and getting groceries and stuff. No big deal. Just like literally every other time I''m shopping and getting stuff for camp.


    But then... I saw this person. I didn''t know who they were, but they were standing off to the side in one of the aisles and were acting pretty odd. Their behavior wasn''t what drew my attention. They were quite out of it and seemed disoriented, so I thought they might just be drunk or something... But then I saw the rash. That''s what drew my attention. I thought perhaps they were sick. I mean, that''s my best guess. It was this blotchy, red rash scattered across their skin in clumps, though it looked almost yellow in some places.


    It was weird enough that I remembered it.


    And it wasn''t just there. It happened again.


    I didn''t have to stay overnight in Moonfall since the shopping list was short enough that I could make it back to camp before it got too dark, so I stopped by Jonathan''s Subs to get some sandwiches for dinner. They''re quite delicious and require no cooking on our part. Just buy and eat later. Charlie and Ferris were out helping Zip with some Camera Traps, and Kristin was working with Ren and the dogs. No one wanted to make anything, so it was a convenience dinner.


    A few people ahead of me at the restaurant, though, I saw someone else. A different person than at the grocery store, but with the same disoriented look and the same rash. They were coughing some, too. Like they had a really nasty cold. That heaving cough like you''re trying to hack out something stubbornly stuck in your throat and with an edge of that wet, phlegmy croak.


    Perhaps there''s some weird flu mutation going around. I thought it was a little early. Winter''s not for another few months. But I suppose that''s the reason why mutations exist; better help things adapt. Even diseases.


    Jonathan''s Subs was the last stop on the list and I went home right after. Pocket Forest is a bit creepy at night. Eerie shadows and a certain stillness that feels a bit too still to be entirely comfortable. Spooky, Diary. Bordering on something straight out of a horror story.


    I hope those two people are alright. And that they recover smoothly, too.


    The SFPU''s been pretty quiet lately. Not too many offenders and the hunts to arrest those that have ventured into the off-limits area of Pocket Forest have all been relatively quick. I hope it stays that way; we''ve had more down time and the forest has had less external stress. A more natural way of running, self-sufficient because it had everything it needs to remain balanced.


    I hope things stay quiet, Diary.


    Ashley Baok


    Sunday


    Dear Diary,


    Yeah, yeah, yeah. *Insert eye roll*


    I know it''s been like a month, Diary.


    But... I got something juicy that I''m sure you''ll want to hear. Very juicy.


    At least, I think it''s something juicy. So hear me out, Diary. Alright? Ok?


    So I was walking around in Dal because the Valleyfield Market is really quite amazing. The biggest open-air market in all of Waverwell, and it stretches for blocks and blocks and blocks. Countless booths selling just about anything you could dream of, impulse buys as far as the eye can see.


    Anyway, so I was walking through the market, just wandering around and seeing what was for sale when I overheard some people talking. They mentioned the mines. The ones in Spider Ridge, like probably a five or ten minute walk from Cloverleaf. From the few seconds I overheard, it seemed their concern was over the possibility of the mines collapsing and the entirety of Spider Ridge crumbling.


    But it got me thinking. I didn''t know what was being carted from the mines. And it was enough to pique my interest so I changed directions and bought a bunch of books. I think I almost filled a shelf. Only a slight exaggeration. But it was a bunch of books. I didn''t put them on a shelf, though. I hid them. There''s a box under my bed that''s covered in wads of clothes that Charlie doesn''t know about. I keep you there, too, Diary. It''s where I put anything I don''t want anyone to find out about. Not even Ren knows about the box, and they pick up on almost everything.


    Anyways, you''re probably on the edge of your seat, Diary. Dying to know what the juicy thing is, just not literally?


    Yeah, I thought so.


    The juicy thing is that I went hunting and barely found anything. Hardly a crumb on what''s being brought out of Spider Ridge. The only smidge of anything was that SOMETHING was found, but no details as to what.


    What I did manage to find was who whatever was mined goes to. And you wanna know who?


    Leviathan Inc.


    I''ve heard of them. They''ve been on the news a bunch with Arkreon. Are-KRAY-yin. Fun to say. Kinda just rolls off the tongue, you know, Diary? You probably don''t. You don''t have a tongue or a mouth or the ability to speak. Rhetorical ''you know,'' I suppose.


    But something about Leviathan Inc. rubs me the wrong way. That feeling when the hair stands up on the back of your neck and some little voice starts telling you to be alert cuz something''s off. That feeling when something looks nice but just a little too nice, a little too sweet.


    If there''s one thing Cat''s Cradle will teach you, it''s that you should listen to your gut and what your instincts tell you. We''re all animals. Even people are, too. We''ve still got those animal instincts hardwired for our survival. Fight-flight-freeze-fawn. Life-or-death situations, and those instincts will tell us what''s real and what''s not. If you''re not in tune with those instincts, Cat''s Cradle will ensure you''re well-versed in what they''re saying. You''ll learn, and you''ll learn quick. No other way to survive.


    I guess that''s what my laptop will come in handy for: research. I''ll have to research Leviathan Inc. and figure out why something about them sets off instinctual alarm bells.


    We''ll see, Diary.


    I''ll let you know


    Ashley Baok


    Monday


    Diary,


    I found something. I don''t know what to make of it.


    Well, I do. I don''t think I can quite believe it, though.


    I don''t think I can tell anyone yet. Not even Kristin. That says something, you know?


    I''ll have to figure out what to do. I don''t know that I can continue putting you in the box beneath my bed any more, Diary.


    The book version of Pockets of Gold and Silver just got published under the pen name Caspian Lyon. I hope that''ll help keep you safe, Diary. You''ll be less noticeable if I put you on my shelves. You''ll look like a real book. Caspian Lyon''s like a real person and there is a book available for purchase called Pockets of Gold and Silver.


    Ashley Baok


    I know things I shouldn''t, but that''s because the truth has been covered up. I cannot yet tell the SFPU, not even Kristin. But I will.


    Soon.


    My mind is the only safe place, but not even that is entirely secure.


    I know things I shouldn''t because no one is supposed to know them.


    So I will make sure everyone knows, starting with the SFPU.


    If everyone is looking away, if no one will hear your voice, then you have to yell. Scream. Shout. Make yourself so visible that they will have no choice but to notice you. Make yourself so visible that they will see you no matter where they look. Make yourself so visible that they will have no other option but to listen.


    It might take time. Change cannot happen overnight. But nothing stays stagnant. Nothing stays hidden. The truth will always win. No number of lies can ever change that.


    So stand up. Brush the dirt from your pants. Keep your head up high. Hold on tight to the truth, and continue on. Fight for what you believe in and change will come. With truth on your side, you''re on the right side of history, so always keep fighting.


    Inching is still moving. Just breathing and surviving is still moving.


    So take a deep breath and make them listen. Hold your head up high and stick by what you believe in. Always keep fighting for the change you want.


    Because change is coming. No one can stand against the truth.


    The sun is falling, darkness is coming, and then it will all be nyte.

 NYTE - Chapter 19 - Cynthia Corville - You Can Say Anything Youd Like

    Chapter 19


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Getting into politics and all that pertained to government work, Cynthia Corville knew there would be a lot on her plate. Lots to do. Lots to keep track of. Lots of places to be all at once. A high-stakes juggling act of countless flaming batons that she couldn''t drop. Waverwell''s well being rested on her ability to keep everything from falling.


    Even still, she had never quite gotten accustomed to the feeling of what bordered on too many things happening that she had to deal with. Statements to be made. Laws to be passed. Emergency procedures to be put in place. Responses to be given. Disagreements between members of Waverwell government with vastly differing views on what should be done about any given issue that needed to be worked out, either through compromise or taking it to a vote. Maintaining the balance of communication with news outlets and reporters who toed the line of stalker-ish when they pressed for personal information. President of Waverwell was not an occupation that allowed for much privacy, but Cynthia tried to retain some personal information that she wished to keep from the public, especially when what she was sharing in a press conference or other meeting had nothing to do with herself.


    And so, sitting at her desk and looking over the update Asa and Azrael Smith had sent her about Ashley Baok''s murder, news of an outbreak of an unknown disease in Corville and Dal was not a part of Cynthia''s plan of how a good day would go.


    The team investigating Ashley Baok''s murder was still in the process of gathering every piece of evidence they could and assembling a timeline to better understand the events that occurred in the weeks leading up to his murder and formulate a list of witnesses, people of interest, and anyone who might hold important information. There wasn''t too much that was new to her, but Cynthia still appreciated the update.


    It was Delta Bass who first alerted her to the existence of the disease. He strolled into the President''s Room, eyes glued to his phone. Loose clothes hung over his frame, slightly wrinkled, though Cynthia was certain that had been an intentional choice during the making of the outfit, the doing of some fashion expert at a designer clothing brand. He didn''t look up as he spoke.


    "Cynthia," he murmured, frowning at whatever was pulled up on his phone. "You happen to be on Muse in the last... like, five minutes?"


    "No, I have not. Is there something I should be aware of?" Cynthia closed the folder containing the update on Ashley Baok''s murder to give Delta her full attention.


    President of Waverwell required listening and giving all a certain level of decency, even when one didn''t necessarily want to be polite. Delta was walking on thin ice, as his actions toward many ¡ªespecially women¡ª in Waverwell government had offended people and were far from the high expectations of how government officials should carry themselves. But what he had said to Cynthia had been little more than calling her Cindy and asking one too many times to go out for dinner, which had stopped after she started dating Charlotte. Nothing that broke any laws, not that that made it ok. Cynthia knew she wouldn''t be able to convince anyone that Delta should be removed from Waverwell government just based off of her experiences with him, but she had no doubt there were others. He was a sweet talker who knew he had the looks, money, and power.


    "You know Leviathan Inc.?" This time, Delta did look up.


    Cynthia nodded, steeling her features into something that resembled a carefully distant expression. "I do know about Leviathan Inc. They are one of the most successful companies in Waverwell. What about them?"


    "Some person is claiming that a new disease in Corville and Dal was their fault."


    Cynthia blinked, refraining from showing the true depth of her shock. She had yet to hear of this. If this was some conspiracy theory found in some far-off corner of Muse, Delta would have wasted her time and she would be extremely frustrated. If this was real, though, she would need to figure out why she wasn''t already made aware of it and ensure she was staying on top of it. A disease outbreak meant a threat to the public health of Waverwell and she would need to take the appropriate actions to minimize the impact.


    Cynthia mulled over Delta''s words for several long moments. "There''s a new disease in Corville and Dal, and someone has claimed Leviathan Inc. is at fault?" She echoed his statement.


    Delta looked up at the ceiling, chewing on his lip for a few seconds. He lowered his gaze and shrugged with a nod, slipping his hands and phone into his pockets. "Yeah, that about sums it up."


    Cynthia narrowed her eyes. "Where did you hear this from?"


    "It''s, like, all over Muse now. Like, literally everywhere. But I think the original was on Waverwell News. Might''ve been on Did You Hear?!"


    Coming from Waverwell News ¡ªor even its gossip offshoot¡ª gave the story a little more credibility that perhaps it was true than an anonymous person making up what would certainly be a juicy story. Clickbait going viral at its finest. But a post, however popular it was, did not give a guarantee of validity. Cynthia would need to gather all the facts, do her own research, and talk with experts to ensure she was making the right decisions. Waverwell''s wellbeing rested on her ability to keep a level head and think everything through.


    "Thank you for letting me know about this, Delta," she said. "I will be sure to look into it."


    Delta nodded, picking up on her unspoken message: you can leave now.


    "You''re welcome," he replied. "I realize I have not always taken my job seriously, but I want to prove that I really do want to be a part of Waverwell government. It''s an opportunity to serve Waverwell that I do not want to give up."


    Cynthia rested her elbows on her mahogany desk and laced her fingers together. She had no interest in continuing to talk with Delta; she had a lot on her plate, potentially far more if the disease panned out into something real. But she couldn''t stop the sentences that spilled from her mouth, not even if she''d tried.


    "You can say anything you''d like, Delta. Anyone can. That''s part of the magic of language. It''s easy like that. Use your voice, drag a pen across a sheet of paper, pick your preferred method, and you''re communicating. You can craft the most palatable, sweet-sounding sentence ever to be imagined. But until those words are backed by concrete actions, they are nothing more than words and are not inherently true. Language is easy, but it is also very easy to manipulate.


    "I am not saying that I believe you are lying. I am instead saying that it is not me that you have to convince, because you know exactly what I believe. Those beliefs will not easily change¡ª they are backed by actions that you yourself have taken. Prove to everyone else that you are not just speaking empty words. Prove that you truly believe in what you''re saying."


    Cynthia held Delta''s gaze. Money and looks could get a person somewhere, but she wanted him to know that she would not be swayed by either. Waverwell government was something that required true dedication, the belief that this was what one was supposed to be doing, the desire to create change and give everything to fight for what one believed in, the knowledge that there was no other job that could even hold a candle to what one was doing as a government employee. She had yet to see even a hint of that in Delta, but she could not yet remove him. Any legal battle she started now she knew she would lose.


    Besides, she thought. Not taking a job seriously isn''t enough to remove someone from Waverwell government, so long as everything that needs to get done is completed.


    After opening and closing his mouth a few times, Delta shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. "I just thought you should know about the claims regarding Leviathan Inc., Cynthia."


    "And I appreciate the thought," Cynthia replied.


    Delta didn''t move, despite Cynthia lacing her words once more with the second message of you can leave now.


    "Do you have anything else you need to share or discuss with me? If not, I have a lot of work to do, and I know you do as well. I have a meeting in just over ten minutes that I need to prepare for and lots of paperwork and documents to complete." It wasn''t a complete lie. Cynthia did have a meeting. It was just really in about twenty minutes, which was just over ten minutes compared to a length of time such as an hour, and was less of a meeting and more of a semi-formal discussion, but the exact definition of what a meeting was could be argued and did hold some amount of personal opinion.


    "Nah, that''s it. Decided to swing by and let you know about those claims."


    Cynthia gave a tight-lipped smile and offered a terse thank you.


    She slouched back in her chair after the door closed behind Delta, exhaling a long sigh.


    The silence was almost deafening as Cynthia gave herself a minute to settle her thoughts and breathe.


    But no sooner had she begun to feel the tension seep from her body than the door Delta had just walked through opened and someone walked through. She sat up straight took a sip from her water bottle on the corner of her desk, well away from the stacks of important documents she needed to go through.


    "Hello, Mrs. President Corville."


    Cynthia studied the person in front of her. They looked familiar, but she couldn''t quite pin down where she''d seen them before. Shaggy locks of dark brown hair fell over their forehead, color bordering on black, and their crisp dress clothes hung loosely on their thin frame, as if just a little too large. They rocked on their feet, fingers gripping a folder and worrying the edge.


    "Hello," she replied. "May I ask your name, please? You seem familiar, but I''m afraid I cannot place that familiarity."


    The person laughed, but a hint of nerves bled through. "I-it''s alright. We haven''t met, but I believe you met my brother a few days ago? Sedge Valentine?"


    Cynthia nodded. "Oh, yes. The assistant lead detective at the Moonfall Precinct. Yes, I did meet him."


    "I''m his brother. My name is Seven Valentine. I''m doing an internship to see what it''s like in Waverwell government since a Waverwell government official is a job I''m interested in pursuing as a career, so I''m helping out with stuff and learning about what goes on here."


    "It is very nice to meet you, Seven. I hope your internship gives lots of good insight into what it''s like working here. Myself and everyone else here would be more than happy to answer any questions. We are all busy, as I''m sure you have probably noticed, but we''d be able to find some time to talk with you. May I ask what your pronouns are, though? I would like to make sure I refer to you correctly. Mine are she, her, and hers."


    Surprise flickered across Seven''s face, but it was gone a split second later. "Uh, y-yeah, sure. Uh-. He, him, and his."


    "Thank you," Cynthia said. "I will be sure to remember those."


    There was a long pause. Seven stood in place, eyes fixed on the sprawling, blue carpet in the center of the President''s Room. His shoulders hunched up, and he licked his lips, opening and closing his mouth a few times. He held the folder close to his chest.


    "You don''t need to be nervous, Seven. I''m a person, just like you are and just like everyone else in Waverwell is."


    "Yeah," Seven murmured, voice soft. "But you''re the President."


    "It''s a job, and I''m still a person." Cynthia repeated. President of Waverwell was a big job and a very important one, but she was still a person. A human being, just like everyone else. She still went to bed every night like everyone else, ate meals, breathed air, drank water, felt the range of emotions. Joy, sadness, anger, frustration, love.


    Seven was quiet for several long moments before he huffed and ran a hand through his hair. "I apologize," he said. "I''m wasting your time. I got nervous cuz you''re the-the President and I haven''t met you before. I''m sorry."


    "You don''t need to apologize, Seven. It''s ok. What do you need?"


    "Oh! I''m so sorry! I almost forgot. Here, uh, this folder is for you. I was told to give it to you. It''s-it''s, uh, some documents about a new disease." Seven scrambled forward, nearly tripping over his shoes as he all but shoved the folder into Cynthia''s hands.


    She held back her surprise, taking it from him. "Are you alright, Seven? It looked like you almost fell."


    "N-no. I''m ok, Mrs. President Corville." He stepped back until he was in the middle of the rug, equidistant between Cynthia and the doorway.


    "Please," she replied. "Call me Cynthia. Mrs. President Corville is a mouthful, and I''m really not that formal."


    Seven hesitated, clearly not about to disagree with her but unable to fully agree. "I-I..." he trailed off. "I was told to-."


    Cynthia held up a hand, and Seven immediately fell silent. "I apologize for interrupting. I''m sure you were told to call me Mrs. President Corville; everyone is. An unspoken rule on etiquette when interacting with those in Waverwell government, if you will. But I prefer to go by Cynthia in most situations. I feel it allows me to have a deeper connection with those I am speaking with. It makes it more like we''re just two people talking."


    "You''re the President of Waverwell, though." Seven''s voice was a whisper, so soft it was almost inaudible. As close to an argument as Cynthia thought he was willing to go. His gaze flickered to hers before falling off to the side.


    "While that may be true, I feel that going by my first name can help it feel like I''m just another person, like I''m on the same level as everyone else. I might be the President, but I am still a person, just like everyone else in Waverwell is."


    Seven nodded. "Yeah, I think I can, uh, g-get that."


    Cynthia smiled. A glance at the melting clock on the corner of her desk said that she had only a few minutes until her meeting. "I have greatly enjoyed our time talking with each other, Seven, but I have a meeting in just a few minutes. I would love to continue our discussion, but I am afraid I will have to ask you to leave." She stood up, walking around the side of her desk.


    "No-no! I-it''s ok, Mrs. P- Cynthia! I''m so sorry. I-I... It was an honor, Cynthia. Thank you so much. I''ll leave. G-good luck with the-the, uh, meeting! I hope the folder is helpful. It was so dope-. I mean cool! Awesome! It was great to-to meet you! I... I''m going to stop talking." Seven gave a sheepish grin and ducked his head.


    "It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Seven. Good luck with your internship, and I hope you find it to be an enjoyable experience. If you decide to pursue a career in Waverwell government, I have no doubt that you will be able to do so. I am certain that you will achieve amazing things."


    Cynthia offered her hand, and Seven stared at her for several long moments, before a grin spread across his face. He shook her hand, trembling slightly, before he stumbled back a step with a soft chuckle.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "Thank you so much, Cynthia. You''re awesome." He looked around for a moment, before huffing another laugh to himself, hand coming up to cover his mouth as he walked out the door, seemingly floating on his feet.


    xxxx


    Two minutes before her meeting and just as she had finished thumbing through the pages in the folder, Cynthia got a briefing on the disease.


    Cases were steadily rising, but with so much unknown, doctors were not yet able to be certain how close the number of documented cases were to the actual number of cases. All documented cases were in Corville and Dal, but some doctors believed it was likely elsewhere, too.


    Cynthia exhaled. There were protocols in place for a big outbreak of a disease. Cities could be shutdown, stay-at-home orders put in place, quarantines implemented, makeshift hospitals built, research centers pausing non-essential work to focus on the disease. As the President, she could force cities to follow the protocols, even if they hadn''t chosen to do so.


    But at what point was the outbreak severe enough to where she could implement the protocols? Too early, and the choice to shut everything down could seem far too extreme. But too late, and the delay could cost many lives and seem as though she did not care.


    And, of course, there were the vastly different views in Waverwell government on what the proper response to a disease outbreak would look like.


    Cynthia rubbed at her forehead, twirling a pen between her fingers. She could already feel a headache forming.


    At least Delta hadn''t been telling me about some clickbait conspiracy theory, she thought to herself, although a conspiracy theory was false, and that would''ve been much easier to deal with. A brief report, print it out, file it away, and be done with it.


    Cynthia thanked the officials who gave her the briefing on the outbreak as they left and told them to keep her updated; she needed to know the second anything changed.


    xxxx


    Harold Morris wore what Cynthia thought was likely the ugliest suit she had ever seen, not that she would tell him. It simultaneously looked both too tight and too loose on him. An overall terrible fit on his round frame, along with a buff color that was too close to his skin tone and gave him the appearance of having turned yellow.


    But she held her tongue, steeled her features into something both polite and neutral, and reached out to shake his hand, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of her desk for him to take. "Hello, Harold. How are you doing today?"


    He sat down, straightening his suit jacket and adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. He set the folder he held in his lap. "I am doing well, Cynthia. How about yourself?"


    "Fine as well, thank you. You said you wished to discuss the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?" She pulled a pad of paper from a drawer and plucked one of the pens lined at the front of her desk from the stand. It was cool beneath her grip, smooth metal gleaming in the light.


    Harold nodded. "That is correct."


    "In your letter requesting a meeting, you said you believed you had a better idea of how the Silverlight Forest and Silverlight Forest Protection Unit should be managed?"


    Harold nodded again, echoing his previous statement: "That is correct."


    Cynthia took a breath, pausing to take a moment to think through her reply.


    But Harold continued before she could speak. "Now," he said. "Before you jump to a no, please allow me to explain my reasoning."


    "Please do explain your reasoning," Cynthia replied, writing out a heading on the pad of paper, then adding her name and Harold''s below it, with the date and time the meeting started off in the corner.


    "Our job in Waverwell government is to keep Waverwell running smoothly, to keep the economy going, and, most of all, to represent the interests of Waverwell''s citizens and their desires. Many enjoy Silverlight Forest, and the section that is open to the public draws countless people to it every year, but the majority of the Forest is off-limits, as you know. Close to ninety-five percent is closed to everyone but verified personnel. The Silverlight Forest Protection Unit patrols that ninety-five percent and enforces the anti-poaching and hunting laws, which they have been reasonably successful at."


    Cynthia jotted down what Harold said in bullet points, although nothing he said was news to her. She could sense a but coming and had a guess as to the direction Harold was going.


    "Silverlight Forest can make a lot of money," he continued. "Ninety-five percent of it is off-limits to all but a select few. And out of those select few who do have access to the Forest, it''s really only six ¡ªer, five, I guess now¡ª who interact with the Forest on any sort of routine basis. There is money to be made in Silverlight Forest. Opening up the Forest to visitors, like what has been done in the public section. Camping, hiking, lodging, things like that. The Silverlight Forest Protection Unit wouldn''t need to exist ¡ªor could exist on a much lower level¡ª if the Forest was open to the public. Why should something so big be closed off to all but five?"


    Cynthia waited until Harold''s silence became clear he was looking for a reply and not pausing to think over his words, finished her next bullet point, and then set down her pen.


    "Ninety-five percent of Silverlight Forest is off-limits to the public so that the Forest can remain virtually untouched. Look at the rest of Waverwell," she said, gesturing to the massive map sprawling against the wall to the side of her desk. "Nearly all of it has been developed. Sure, there are a few places here and there where the land is close to how it was before we built on top of it, but those areas are small and few and far between. Ninety-five percent is almost all of Silverlight Forest, but the remaining five percent still allows for people to explore the Forest and everything it can offer. Five percent is a small fraction, but it is still plenty for people to experience Silverlight Forest for themselves. I don''t believe I have ever heard of any issues surrounding overcrowding or anything that would suggest a need for expanding the public section of Silverlight Forest. The only complaints I can ever recall hearing about anything regarding Silverlight Forest were about Myway Highway getting backed up, and those complaints happened because of an accident, not because of the road itself."


    Harold straightened up in his seat, planting his feet firmly on the floor and resting his elbows on the arms of the chair


    "Silverlight Forest is teeming with resources. Tourism and outdoor activities for visitors, and lumber and raw materials for companies. It''s money just waiting to be made. We are not doing our job if we do not utilize what the Forest is offering. We need to do something with it. Expand the public section, develop the land, turn Silverlight Lake into a park, bring mining down from Cloverleaf and Spider Ridge. Scientists believe there is oil beneath Silverlight Forest, and quite a lot of it, too. That will boost energy production and the economy. Lower prices for energy bills and gas. Here," Harold said, taking out a stack of papers stapled together into several packets and setting them on the desk. "I''ve had graphs and charts made. The top packet is the estimates on the monetary value of different aspects of Silverlight Forest. Lumber, land, oil, etc. The second one is graphs of predictions on the economy and what that will look like in different scenarios. Turning the Forest into a woodland park, developing the 95 percent untouched, developing some of it and mining where the oil it, along with several others. There''s about a dozen scenarios."


    Cynthia pulled the packets toward her and flipped through them. She knew where Harold was coming from. Looking at things from a monetary perspective, the biggest boost to the economy, using resources to the biggest advantage possible, how to increase the next paycheck and add those next few zeros. A capitalist and consumerist point of view.


    "I am aware that there are a variety of ways that Silverlight Forest could be developed and that a lot of money could be made by doing so. I would also venture to guess that you would be in favor of removing the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit as well." Cynthia set the packets back down on her desk, off to the side where she could take a closer look at them later.


    Harold nodded. "That is true. We are not currently using the ninety-five percent of Silverlight Forest that they patrol and protect, and yet we give them money and resources to be able to function. I realize that what I am saying may be falling on deaf ears; I know you were the original supporter of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. Ferris Dipper reached out to you with the idea of the group, and you were the one who secured funding and government support for them. And it was your father who got the Silverlight Forest sectioned off. To ''preserve the natural world for generations to come,'' in his words."


    Benedict Corville, Cynthia''s father, had always held the firm belief that humans were no different from any other life. Humans were just another species trying to survive, so what gave humans the right to take and take and take? Every other creature ¡ªplant, animal, fungi, bacteria, or anything else¡ª had just as much right to the land as humans did. He had instilled that belief in Cynthia as well, teaching her about the natural world from nooks and crannies in Waverwell government building, couches in lobbies of whatever office spaces he was needed at, stolen time in between meetings he was being ushered to next.


    The Benedict Corville Silverlight Forest Act had been passed by her father, and when Cynthia became a part of Waverwell government ¡ªfirst as an official and then as the President¡ª she continued her father''s work in protecting the wild spaces in Waverwell.


    "You have barely seen the Silverlight Forest," Harold said, interrupting Cynthia''s train of thought.


    "Does that mean that I cannot form an opinion about it?"


    "It means that you haven''t seen the Forest much in person. How much can you really know without seeing something?"


    Cynthia set her pen down and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "I could ask the same of you."


    Harold frowned. "I''ve driven through the Forest and have seen it."


    "Driving on Myway Highway isn''t the same as actually walking through it. Virtually everyone in Waverwell has driven through Myway Highway. And a view from a distance ¡ªsay, from up on the bluffs in Cat''s Cradle or on the slopes of Spider Ridge¡ª isn''t the same as being there in the Forest. Yes, I have not spent very long in Silverlight Forest, and I acknowledge that it does not give me the same insight that someone who had spent a lot of time in the Forest would have. But please do not question my opinions on Silverlight Forest if the same can be done to you."


    Harold shifted ever so slightly under Cynthia''s gaze. Asking questions and searching for bias was one thing, but this was different. Cynthia knew what Harold wanted and she knew that he knew she wouldn''t side with him.


    And she knew that he knew there were two ways he could go: talk with other Waverwell government officials and take it to a vote once enough were on his side that Cynthia wouldn''t be able to refuse. Majority ruled, even against the President. Or the easier route: get Cynthia to agree. A vote would still occur, but it would be more symbolic than for actual necessity.


    "I don''t need to have visited Silverlight Forest for very long to know that there are far better uses for it than leaving it empty and out of reach of all but a very select few."


    "I don''t need to have visited Silverlight Forest for very long to know that protecting the Forest is the right decision. Not everything needs to have a use that generates money," Cynthia replied.


    Harold narrowed his eyes, sucking on his teeth as he thought over his words. Cynthia gave him time, taking a sip of water and giving the melting clock on the corner of her desk a quick glance. Early afternoon. The evening was still several hours away, which gave her plenty of time to get lots of work done, but it still felt far too short. Too much that she needed to get done. A never-ending and always-growing list.


    She could almost feel the grey hairs sprouting from her scalp and the wrinkles creasing her skin.


    "Silverlight Forest can have a use that generates money, though. Many are outlined in the packets I gave you." Harold gestured to where they were stacked off to the side on Cynthia''s desk. "I know you want to preserve Silverlight Forest. To ''preserve the wild spaces that still remain untouched by humanity,'' in your words. There are ways to do that and have the Forest generate money. Jobs would be created, as well, and it would be a boost to the economy."


    "I assume one of the ideas you have would be to turn the entirety of Silverlight Forest into something similar to the public area that currently exists?"


    Harold nodded. "Yes, that is one of them."


    Cynthia hummed.


    "There are other ways to create new jobs and generate money," she said. "I absolutely believe in helping the economy, but Silverlight Forest is the last space in Waverwell that is virtually untouched by the human hand. I cannot in good conscience agree to something that would develop land such as that. Even if it were just creating some trails, soon it would become a lodge. Then some stores, and eventually a town. Where would it end? While it might not be overnight, Silverlight Forest would eventually fall, and it would become just like the rest of Waverwell. We would lose the landmark that is the Forest. I don''t have to have visited the Forest for very long to know that I wouldn''t be able to sleep at night if I agreed to anything that would result in damage to Silverlight Forest. Or any untouched piece of land, for that matter."


    "You know, Cynthia," Harold said. "I knew your father."


    Cynthia narrowed her eyes and just managed to resist the urge to scowl at him. "I am aware of that. For several years you and my father worked together in Waverwell government."


    "We did. Your father was a great man, Cynthia. He was firm in his beliefs and worked hard for what he believed in. I know he taught you all about his beliefs, including his thoughts on Silverlight Forest. You see, I had the opportunity to speak with him many times. Benedict Corville wanted Silverlight Forest protected, which is what you''re doing here. But he-."


    Something in Cynthia snapped, and she stood up, chair skittering back and nearly tipping over. She slammed her palms down on the table. "Do not," she snarled, "use my father against me. We do not have to agree, and in many circumstances we will not, including this one. But do not use my father ¡ªor anyone I care about¡ª to try to twist and manipulate me into doing what you would like. I am a tolerant person, but I will not accept that behavior, whether it is against me or anyone else. Do you understand, Harold Morris?"


    Harold had remained seated, but his back was straight and his head high. His expression had morphed into something carefully neutral, and he swallowed before opening his mouth to reply.


    But before he could speak, the door to the President''s Room was flung open and heavy footsteps thundered in near unison as close to a dozen officers flooded into the space, weapons drawn and protective gear donned. WGBP was printed in bold white letters over their uniforms. Waverwell Government Building Precinct, a small offshoot of the Corville Precinct.


    Helmets shadowed the officers'' eyes, but Cynthia still caught the dark glint as each hunted for any threat.


    Cynthia took a step back, startled, and Harold sprang up from his chair, holding his hands up as he turned to face the officers. President of Waverwell fell above Waverwell government official in rankings. Cynthia''s safety came above Harold''s, and until it was determined there was no threat to her, Harold would be considered a person of interest, even though he was one of the top officials and was a trusted person dedicated to his job.


    "We heard yelling and a commotion. Are you alright, Mrs. President?" As the lead officer spoke, several others raced around the room, checking every nook and cranny for anything that could pose a threat to Waverwell government.


    "Everything is ok," Cynthia said. "We were getting into a debate during our meeting, and it got a bit loud. I greatly appreciate you coming in so quickly and ensuring both my safety and Harold''s, but I am fine."


    The officers completed their search, and all began to relax. Guns were lowered from shoulders, and tense stares fell from windows and Harold, who slowly lowered his hands and echoed Cynthia''s statement, saying that their discussion got louder than they intended and that they were both ok.


    The lead officer spoke into a radio, which Cynthia presumed was to communicate with officers outside. A garbled reply sounded a few moments later, too indistinct for Cynthia to make out, but the officer nodded and thanked whoever was on the other side.


    "I apologize for interrupting, Mrs. President," the lead officer said, turning to Cynthia and gesturing for one last sweep of the room to be done. "I am glad that you are ok. You as well, Harold Morris. We will be leaving now and will let you return to your meeting. I apologize once again for interrupting."


    Cynthia held up a hand. "You were doing your job. That is not something you need to apologize for. You were keeping me and Harold safe, and that is something you will never need to apologize for."


    "Understood, Mrs. President. We will be on our way. I hope the rest of your meeting goes smoothly."


    "Thank you once again. Have a wonderful rest of your day." Cynthia walked with the officers and held the door for them, letting it softly close once they had left.


    Harold stood behind his chair, as he had done when the officers were in the President''s Room. Using the chair as a makeshift shield of sorts.


    He gazed distantly at the doorway, face a bit pale but still retaining that yellow hue his suit gave his complexion. Perhaps Charlotte knew of some way to politely tell someone their outfit just didn''t look good on them. Although, she thought. If they really like the outfit, then it doesn''t really matter what others think, unless they''re directly asked for their opinion.


    "Well, at least they''re quick," Harold said.


    Cynthia nodded, crossing the room to return to her desk. "Indeed."


    "So what do you think about enlarging the five percent of Silverlight Forest open to the public? Perhaps not developing the entirety of it ¡ªdeveloping meaning doing any sort of work on it, not just buildings or mines¡ª but something, whether a twenty-five percent or fifty or some other number. Twenty-five and fifty are not numbers I have my heart set upon, they were just easy percentages that came to mind first."


    Cynthia chewed on her lip, leaning on the edge of her desk as she took a breath. "I think," she said slowly and tugged one of the packets Harold had given her from the stack and thumbed through it, "that you should go. We will not agree on anything, at least as of right now, and so I do not see the benefit of continuing to discuss Silverlight Forest any further. After we have both had some time to settle our thoughts and I have had a chance to look through this packet, we could return to this discussion."


    "Very well," Harold said after a few moments.


    "I think Gabriella, Linda, and Delta should join the next discussion. They could all offer some very good insight and perspectives."


    Harold ducked his head. "I agree."


    "Wonderful. My schedule will be getting much busier in the coming days with the disease outbreak, but I am sure we''ll be able to find something that would work for all of us."


    "I will be in touch, Cynthia."


    "I will, too, Harold."


    Cynthia bid him farewell as he left the room. She leaned back against the door with a sigh, sliding down until she was on the floor. She pulled her legs to her chest and gave herself a few moments to let the stress wash over her and feel everything she couldn''t show. The President remained calm and in-control at all times, no matter the situation. The President always kept a level head.


    Tears burned in her eyes, but she wiped them away before they could fall. Her breath trembled as she exhaled, slowing her heart rate.


    President of Waverwell put a massive weight on her shoulders, but she could carry it. She knew she could. She had proven to herself that she wouldn''t buckle beneath its weight. That she wouldn''t just keep the weight upright, but that she could thrive. That she had proven her capabilities as President and she belonged in the job.


    "You''ve got this, Cynthia," she whispered to herself. "It''s stressful, it''s a lot, and it means dealing with terrible things, but your country needs you and you have shown you can do it. It''s ok that it sometimes gets to you and you need to take some time to rest, but you can do it. You''ve got this."


    Cynthia took several more deep breaths until she felt the claws of stress and anxiety recede. She brushed off her pants, straightened her shirt, and then ran her fingers through her hair.


    "Let''s do this," she murmured, standing up.


    Waverwell was counting on her. To bring them through the disease outbreak, to keep them safe, to keep the economy running, to keep public services open. And Ashley Baok was counting on her to get justice delivered to him, as were Kristin Baok and the rest of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit.


    She couldn''t and wouldn''t let them down.

 NYTE - Chapter 20 - Kristin Baok - Now You Tell Everyone

    TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of how to lay someone to rest, interactions with a cremated body, laying someone to rest, heavy grief/a bit of guilt


    Grief/some guilt throughout the whole chapter, as Kristin is still dealing with Ashley''s death


    I will put beginning/end markers for when the SFPU is discussing how to lay Ashley to rest/interacting with his cremated body and add a summary at the end if you wish to skip over that part


    Chapter 20


    KRISTIN BAOK


    Kristin''s body was numb. Shock coursed through his veins, pushed along by his pounding heart that threatened to burst through his chest. Blood roared in his ears.


    It was as if the ground had given way beneath his feet and left him free-falling through the air, careening through space and time without any familiarity to hold on to.


    Ashley knew about the claims the whistleblower made, he thought, and it was on repeat in his mind, the only thing his scrambled mind could piece together that was even remotely coherent.


    How could Ashley have known? And if he had known, why didn''t he tell anyone? Kristin''s heart clenched in his chest. He and Ashley told each other everything. They were brothers. Twins. They shared a bond deeper than anything. So why hadn''t he told anyone what he knew?


    "Ashley knew about the claims the whistleblower made?" Ferris echoed Kristin''s statement, low voice rumbling in thought.


    Kristin choked on his next inhale, tears stinging in his eyes. He could only manage a nod in reply.


    Why''d you have to go, Ashley? Why?


    He curled his fingers into fists, and he jumped when he felt nothing other than skin in his grip. Kristin blinked a few times, and his vision returned, morphing from the memories and flickering images of Ashley back into the SFPU house. Him standing by the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the window, the rest of the group at the table.


    Zip lifted Ashley''s journal from the table, feather-light fingers holding it up. "Here," he murmured. Relief bloomed in Kristin''s chest.


    "When?" Charlie asked, chewing on a fingernail. "When did Ashley know?"


    Kristin''s gaze fell to the ground, shoulders slumping. "I-I... I don''t know. He di-didn''t put dates, only the day of the week."


    "I can... I can create an approximate timeline on my-on my laptop," Zip said. "Won''t be exact if there are... repeating days a-and no clue as to i-if they''re the-the same day or one week later... but it would be a-a-a guess."


    Kristin ducked his head. "Thanks."


    Zip murmured a soft reply, then slipped out of his chair, footsteps pattering in near silence as he disappeared into his room.


    A pang of grief sliced through Kristin''s chest, leaving tattered ribbons of flesh in its wake. The pain consumed him, tearing through his insides and mangling his guts. Jagged claws seized his throat, squeezing ever tighter until he felt he might choke. If this was what it felt like living without Ashley for just a few days, how was he supposed to live a lifetime without his brother?


    What he wouldn''t do for just one more day with Ashley. Just an hour. A few minutes. The chance to say goodbye while Ashley was still alive. While Ashley could respond.


    President Corville had offered Ashley the ceremony and burial given to the highest members of Waverwell government.


    But Kristin hadn''t yet been able to reply. He and Ashley hadn''t ever talked about what they''d want when they died. In Cat''s Cradle, it didn''t matter when they died; no one would know except for the other. There was no one would remember them except for the other. Death was something both had known about but never brought up. Survival was their biggest concern. Pickpocketing, stealing, hustling, sharking, cheating got them by. A clever, deceitful conversation by one while the other snuck around. A well-versed act, honed by time and practice and aided by adrenaline and the need for food, supplies, money. When they could, they did honest work. Washing dishes at local eateries, stocking shelves at the nearby corner store, whoever was hiring, didn''t ask questions, needed no formal education or training, and had no requirement other than alive and breathing. When they were able to, they paid in full with real money. Actual Corvilles, not look-alikes or one real Corville wrapped around a roll of blank rectangles of paper.


    Kristin knew Ashley hadn''t written out a will or any sort of requests for what to do with his body when he died and that because of that, it fell on him to decide what would happen with his brother.


    The thought of anything regarding Ashley ¡ªespecially anything about laying him to rest¡ª felt like a shot to the gut. It was too much for his frazzled mind.


    He hoped President Corville would be understanding that he couldn''t yet respond. Couldn''t yet think if Ashley would have wanted the ceremony she had offered.


    Perhaps Ashley has another secret journal with what he''d like done with his body, Kristin thought. It was selfish, he knew that, but it would take the decision away from him. He wouldn''t have to make the choice that would make his brother''s death so much more final.


    Kristin sank to the floor, choking on his breath. He let out a wet sob and buried his face in his hands. The ground was hard, cold beneath his knees.


    Charlie knelt beside him, Ren and Ferris following close behind. "What can I do, Kristin?" she asked, hand coming into his field of vision before retreating. She wouldn''t touch him without permission and she knew he''d say no.


    That asking before touching had been something he and Ashley had been so confused about when they first joined the SFPU. It was among the first things they''d talked about in their stolen minutes together in one of their rooms when they needed time alone. Needed a bit of the normalcy they''d known in the streets of Cat''s Cradle, where no one would come looking for them and all they had was the other. Ashley had made a scene, and Kristin knew he just needed to talk through whatever was on his mind. He''d sat down on the edge of Ashley''s bed and watched as his brother paced around stacks of books waiting to be put away on shelves, murmuring in a thought process Kristin couldn''t begin to understand. Eventually, Ashley slowed to a stop, hands in his pockets and eyes narrowed and staring out the window, and he chewed on his lip for several moments before turning to Kristin.


    "They ever ask you if they can, like, touch you?" Ashley had asked the question in his pensive drawl, a distant air to his voice that made him sound a thousand years old. The complete opposite to his laid-back personality that echoed Charlie''s.


    Kristin had nodded, and Ashley had hummed, quiet for a long pause. "Never would''ve happened in Cat''s Cradle."


    "No, it wouldn''t have," Kristin had agreed.


    "It''s weird," he''d chuckled, exhaling sharply as he returned to pacing. "S''pose it makes sense, though. Person''s own body. Can do with it what they''d like. No touch without my say so."


    Kristin had bent over, elbows on his knees and hands cradling his cheeks. "Yeah," he''d replied, "it does make sense, I guess."


    Ashley was silent for a long moment, facing away from Kristin in a move that took months for him to do with the rest of the SFPU. Cardinal rule of survival: never show your back. Trust was earned. Ashley had toed at the cover of a book. Kristin didn''t have to see his face to know that he was frowning.


    But then Ashley had turned around, clapping his hands. "Research," he''d said, falling back into his usual rhythm. "I must do research. There''s something about this and I''ve got no clue what it is that''s got my mind stuck on it, so I''m going to research it until whatever''s stuck gets unstuck. Now, where did that journal go? It''s got the supply run shopping list in it. My laptop, too. I need to hunt down books. Don''t know what books I''m looking for, but I''m sure Muse has millions of recommendation lists so I''ll find them. You need anything? Supply run''s tomorrow."


    It was so Ashley. Absolutely, positively, without a doubt him. Whenever there was a problem or something that piqued his interest or, in his words, his mind got stuck on, Ashley would research it. Find as many books as he needed, search through countless websites, read article after article, wade through Muse until he could work out whatever had been bothering him. It was why he could get close to any job and was nearly impossible to cheat out of something: he knew a little about almost everything.


    Kristin''s heart clenched, and he hunched over further, a low whine slipping from his throat.


    He fell back into reality, leaving the memory behind and returning to the living room. Arms wrapped around his middle like iron bands, he tried to calm down. Quiet the racing thoughts barreling through his head without any real aim and in twists and turns he couldn''t follow.


    "What can we do?" Ferris echoed Charlie''s question.


    "How can this be real? I can''t function. I can''t do anything. I just want him back. I want my brother," he pleaded. His cheeks were slick when he wiped at his face.


    If only he could get himself to stop crying.


    Ren sniffled behind him, and Ferris exhaled slowly. Charlie huffed.


    "I wish with all my heart I could tell you this was just a dream ¡ªnightmare¡ª and wake you up," Ferris murmured. "I wish I could tell you the pain would someday be gone." The droop in his shoulders and the sag of his head were nearly audible in his voice; Kristin didn''t have to look up to know the approximation of Ferris''s posture. Everyone''s posture, he thought to himself.


    How long until he could close his eyes without seeing Ashley''s face? How long until he could look around without seeing Ashley in the corners of his vision? In the shadows on the walls? In everyday objects he never used to look twice at?


    How long until the pain wouldn''t dig quite so deep? Until memories of Ashley wouldn''t tear open his heart? Until the thought of Ashley wouldn''t leave him plummeting through the abyss of grief?


    Kristin didn''t know.


    xxxx


    Zip returned a while later, standing at the edge of the threshold to the living room with his shoulders drawn in tight. Kristin had forgotten he had left. Guilt curled in his gut, but he shoved it away.


    In his hands, Zip cradled his laptop. A bulky thing that was so much bigger than Ashley''s thin, sleek computer. But the upside was that it had always been able to do far more than Ashley''s had, not that it mattered to him¡ª Ashley hadn''t wanted, nor needed¡ª his laptop to run massive, complex strings of code, carry signals between robots, or autonomously analyze the streams of footage sent in by the Camera Traps and flag anything suspicious, as he''d said many times when Zip had offered to switch out some computer parts for bigger, faster, and better ones. Most of what Ashley did on his computer was perusing through Muse and tracking down whatever store held the next book on his endless to-be-read list or figuring out where he could purchase the random items on the supply run shopping list, though in his comments to Kristin, it seemed that it often started with seeing if the item was even available to be purchased. Where it could be purchased came second.


    Kristin forced himself to stay at least somewhat sitting. Remain on the ground, not bolt like every cell in his body told him to. Run. Sprint. Dash. Perhaps if he got far enough away, he could escape the hopelessness coursing through every vein. Maybe there was somewhere it wouldn''t hurt so much. Maybe there was somewhere he could still be with Ashley. Somewhere Ashley was still alive, he just had to run far enough.


    But Kristin knew that wasn''t the case. He knew that wasn''t possible. But he still clung to the fraying thread of hope that maybe this was just some horrible nightmare. The most vivid, lifelike nightmare. He couldn''t let go. When he did, he would have to embrace in whatever fashion he could that Ashley''s death ¡ªmurder¡ª wasn''t a nightmare, that it was true. It was real.


    But how could he even begin to do that?


    Fingers clenched in bloodless fists, Kristin tried to hold himself together. To slow the dripping tears rolling down his face. To quell the quiver in his lip. To ease the tremble in his limbs.


    What use would crying provide? No amount of tears could ever bring back Ashley. They wouldn''t coalesce in a puddle on the ground and then morph into his brother. Why was Kristin able to cry when Ashley wouldn''t ever shed another tear?


    "What is it?" Ren asked when Zip shifted on his feet, glancing at the rest of the group but not saying anything. Returning his attention to his laptop to look at whatever was pulled up, then looking back. Ren turned on their knees to face Zip a little more fully. Charlie perked up, looking at Zip, while Ferris kept his soft gaze on Kristin.


    Kristin simultaneously hated the attention and was grateful for it. He didn''t mind attention, but it needed to be on his terms. He needed an out, if he chose it. A way to get the attention to stop. If he asked, Kristin knew he''d be able to leave, to be alone, even if he didn''t ask and just up and left. But the attention wouldn''t really stop. The SFPU would still be there, pained and sympathetic looks still following him. Tears still rolling down cheeks and sniffles still muffled by sleeves and tissues.


    Zip stared off to the side, eyes flickering around the far wall of the room as he processed Ren''s words. He replied a few moments later: "I..." he trailed off, working over what he wanted to say. "I got an email f-from Lar-Larson Hotch. He... he said Moonfall Precinct''s gonna take-take over hunting offenders here. We take... as long as we need."


    Leaning back on her hands, Charlie hummed and stretched out her legs. Only the tightness in her expression and the tension in her muscles gave away that her laid-back posture was a charade. A mask with the tiniest chink in the armor, the slightest tell for someone who knew where to look. "So they''ll take care of the criminals while we figure things out here?"


    Zip nodded.


    "Great," Charlie replied. "You got whatever timeline-creating thing you have pulled up on your laptop?"


    Zip nodded again.


    Ferris stood up on his knees, reaching out to pull Ashley''s journal from the table before sitting back down. He held the journal gingerly in his hands.


    Kristin furrowed his eyebrows when Ferris looked at him.


    To clarify, Ferris said, "Would you like to be the one to read the days from Ashley''s journal entries, or would you like one of us to do so? The decision is yours, and I don''t want to presume anything."


    It gave Kristin some level of relief, a weight lifted off his shoulders. The SFPU would respect Ashley and himself ¡ªnot that Kristin had any doubts about that¡ª and they wouldn''t force him to do anything. They knew Ashley, but Kristin was his brother and had known him for far longer and knew him far better, and they acknowledged that.


    But knowing that his friends would defer to him for any and all decisions regarding Ashley unless explicitly told otherwise gave Kristin a measure of anxiety and stress. Ashley could no longer speak for himself, and so it would be Kristin deciding for him. It would be Kristin''s decision on everything related to Ashley. And he couldn''t help but worry that he would make the wrong choice. That it would be something Ashley wouldn''t have liked. That he would offend his brother in some way.


    Kristin could hardly think. Hardly string more than the simplest of coherent thoughts. Hardly process more than a few short words at a time. Hardly hold any thought for more than a few seconds.


    "You, please," Kristin murmured. He scooted across the floor until his back was against one of the chairs at the kitchen counter. With the distance between him and the rest of the group, it felt a little easier to breathe, like there was a little more air he could drink in. He crossed his arms over his knees and rested his chin on his forearms. A tear rolled down his cheek, and he wiped it away in an angry movement, hissing a shaky breath between clenched teeth.


    "Ok," Ferris replied softly, ducking his head. He opened Ashley''s journal, gently resting the cover on his wrist and turning each page until he reached the first entry. He turned to Zip, who had set his laptop down on the table and was clicking around on it. "Are you ready?"


    "Yeah."


    "Alright. Read them one by one?"


    "Yeah." Zip didn''t look up. His fingers were still on the keyboard as he waited for Ferris to start reading.


    "The first one is a Thursday."


    Zip typed it into the program he had pulled up then waited silently.


    The silence stretched for close to the better part of a minute. Eventually, Kristin realized Zip wouldn''t say anything; he didn''t know that Ferris was waiting to be told that he was ready for the next day. Zip himself was waiting for the next day and had probably assumed that Ferris would just go onto to it when he was ready.


    Mishaps in communication were relatively common¡ª everyone in the SFPU each had different ways to communicate and what was considered obvious in a certain situation could differ greatly.


    Charlie echoed what Kristin had been thinking. "Keep readin'', Dipper," she murmured, scratching at a fingernail. "Zip''s ready for the next one. Just keep readin'' after, like, a few seconds'' pause. ''nless you''re told otherwise, though." Ferris looked between her and Zip, back and again several times, then complied.


    Flipping to the next page in Ashley''s journal, Ferris cleared his throat and then continued going through the days.


    Friday.


    Sunday.


    Saturday.


    Monday.


    Thursday.


    Friday.


    Saturday.


    Tuesday.


    The list went on. Days and days and days. A stream that seemed to last forever. A year''s worth of journal entries, spaced out at random and written whenever Ashley had felt the desire to scrawl them out across the pages and had the time.


    Ferris''s low voice remained even throughout, never straying from the calm tone Kristin had never heard him speak without.


    The only other sound in the room was Zip''s fingers tapping away at his keyboard, background noise for Ferris as he read the days from Ashley''s journal.


    Kristin watched the two of them from behind his crossed arms. His eyes flickered between each of them, back and forth and back and forth like a game of ping-pong.


    Finally, Ferris reached the last few days.


    "Sunday," he said, pausing for a moment, then continuing once Zip''s typing had stopped. "Tuesday. Sunday. Monday. Huh, that''s odd. The last one isn''t dated. All of the others are." Ferris flipped through pages, then returned to the last page.


    "Ashley didn''t write a day for the last entry?" Charlie asked.


    Ferris shook his head. "No," he replied, "he didn''t."


    "You have all of the other days, though, right, Zip?" Ren leaned back in their chair so they could look at Zip''s screen.


    He nodded in response.


    "You could run what you have. Assuming that the Monday in Ashley''s second to last entry was this past Monday, the undated entry was either on Tuesday or Wednesday. Although, we might be able to narrow down when Ashley''s last entry was written when we get a, uh..." Ren glanced over at Kristin, trailing off as they hesitated. "When we get a, uh-. A time of death on when he likely was murdered."


    "I''m not going to break," Kristin grumbled, burying his face in his arms as he brought his knees closer to his chest, as if he could fold himself up. Maybe he could even disappear. Escape the pain, even though he knew it was selfish. "I''m not going to break. Say Ashley was murdered, because he was. Don''t dance around the fact that someone cut his life short for some terrible, twisted reason. I''m not gonna get mad for you speaking the truth." His lip curled. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke, and Kristin hoped they didn''t make him seem pathetic.


    Zip typed out what Kristin assumed were some commands for whatever code he was about to run and then hit enter.


    Nothing happened for what felt like an eternity but what Kristin knew couldn''t have been more than a second or two¡ª Zip''s computer was far too fast.


    "I..." Zip began. "It''s not... exact. ¡ªcuz only days and not dates. B-but have the-the approximate timeline."


    "Let''s hear it," Charlie said, sitting up a little straighter to better see Zip.


    Kristin wanted to listen to Zip. Hear his soft voice that trailed off and paused, but always continued on. Hear how his voice lightened when he got excited, fluttering like a bird as the words smoothed out and fell from his mouth, no longer catching and stuttering, instead tumbling like fallen leaves in a pattern sometimes only he could follow.


    No, Kristin grumbled internally, rubbing at his face. He had to stop that train of thought.


    Kristin tried to listen to Zip; what he was saying was important.


    But Zip''s words went in one ear and out the other. Kristin couldn''t hang onto them for more than a few moments. By the time he was able to begin to piece together the meaning of one sentence, another came to take its place, sending him into a spiral of trying to keep up with everything Zip said, yet always being further and further behind.


    Ren glanced back at him and where he was curled up. Their expression softened, face falling in pain and sadness. "Would you like me to get you something to eat? Charlie and Ferris can help Zip if you want to take a break." Ren drew nearer as Charlie and Ferris nodded their agreement.


    Kristin took several breaths, holding back the tears that burned in his eyes. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, and then shook his head. "No..." he trailed off, choking on a breath before continuing. "No, you go... check on the dogs. I''ll find something for myself."


    It was a transparent excuse to be alone, but Ren didn''t say anything. They nodded. "I probably should," they said, offering a sad smile when they opened the door. "The dogs could use some exercise, and I should change the bandage on Morpheus''s side. If you need anything, you know where I''ll be. I''m only a message, phone call, or holler away."


    "We are too," Charlie said, gesturing to herself, then Ferris and Zip on either side of her.


    "I''m not helpless." There was venom in Kristin''s voice, an edge he didn''t intend but couldn''t stop. Frustration bubbling to the surface and frothing over the side. A spitting demon chomping at the bit with a snarl contorting its face, baying for something Kristin didn''t know. Blood? Revenge? Chaos? Peace, maybe? It was a can of worms Kristin didn''t want to open; it was easier to try to lock away the demon. It hurt far less.


    Charlie''s face tightened for a split second. "I never said you were," she replied.


    "I can do stuff," he continued.


    "I know you can, Kristin." Ferris''s voice was calm, low and even tones. "None of us are doubting your capabilities of doing anything. You''re not helpless. It is a very tough time, and we were offering to lend a hand. If you do not desire our assistance, you can say no. We will not be offended in any sort of way."


    "Such fancy talk," Kristin muttered. He turned his head to the side. "I can get my own food. Let me know when you find something."


    He got up before his voice could crack and before Ferris ¡ªor anyone¡ªcould respond.


    xxxx


    The kitchen of the SFPU house looked like a foreign land. Like something from another reality. The same layout, but unfamiliar to the point Kristin wasn''t sure he recognized it, as if it were from another world.


    And perhaps it is, he thought with a sour internal grimace that twisted his insides. He hadn''t been in the kitchen since before he learned of Ashley''s murder. The last time he stood on the tiled floor or on one of the thin mats that lay at the foot of the sink and stove, Ashley was still alive.


    Kristin''s grip on the countertop was tight enough that his knuckles blanched.


    Food. I need food. It was a simple enough task. None of them had eaten very much in the past few days, so there was plenty to choose from. Fruits, meats, veggies. A random assortment of half-eaten cartons of snacks in the cupboards and containers of leftovers in the fridge.


    Kristin could feel the eyes on his back as he tugged open the doors of the cupboards, trying and failing to read the words on the boxes to see what was available for him to eat. He could feel the words on the tips of tongues when he stood in front of the fridge long enough for it to start beeping at him, staring sightlessly at the array of foods on the clear shelves. Voices trailed off until the only sounds were the dinging of the fridge and the heavy weight of silence.


    After he grabbed a bag of shredded carrots, dragging it from its drawer and letting it drop onto the counter, the voices picked back up, and the rest of the group continued with whatever conversation it was that Kristin couldn''t muster up the headspace to follow. Several carrots fell to the ground when he yanked open the bag but he didn''t pick them up. The few he managed to put in his mouth tasted like textured air. Cardboard. Something that made him gag but that he choked down. Food. He needed food.


    He could feel the weakness spreading through his body. The trembling. The fuzziness. His last full meal had been days ago, and anything he''d eaten since then wasn''t enough. But any sort of hunger he felt was distant and fleeting, forced far down to the faintest of muted sensations by the crushing weight of grief and pain and hopelessness.


    Kristin exhaled through his teeth and ignored the worried glance Zip gave him. As much as he''d appreciated Zip pulling him away into his workshop, Kristin just needed the parallel company with him in the kitchen and everyone else in the living room. Company without having to interact.


    He rounded the counter and sat down on one of the stools, facing the fridge with his back to the group. When the stool began to twist, he braced his knees against the cabinets lining the space beneath the counter.


    xxxx


    The bag of carrots was half gone when Ferris approached him. "Hey, Kristin," he said. "We found something and we thought you should know."


    Kristin twisted the stool around. "What did you find?" His voice was harsher then he intended ¡ªa knife''s edge of cool steel¡ª but he couldn''t get the words out to formulate a sorry.


    "I think it would be easier if you could see the journal," Ferris said, waving him toward the table.


    As Kristin followed, Ferris began speaking again. "We created an approximate timeline with the days Ashley labeled his entries with and times mentioned in his writing. It''s been a week or it''s been a month, things like that."


    "Ok," Kristin murmured. He sat down in the chair closest to Ashley''s journal. "What did you find?"


    "Well," Ferris started, "we found a lot. Ashley kept a detailed journal. Much of it is about things we did in the camp or entries about poachers we caught, and some of it is him writing about what he was thinking about that day or events from Cat''s Cradle and before the two of you joined the SFPU. But other entries ¡ªmostly the later ones¡ª mentioned Arkreon a few times, as well as a disease, and Leviathan Inc. was in there some, too-."


    "What are you saying?" Kristin mumbled, trying to sort through Ferris''s words in his head. Straighten out the jumble that he couldn''t yet piece together.


    Charlie spoke before Ferris could. "We were thinking that Ashley might''ve been about to figure out what he was looking for," she said. "He''s got a lot of little bits of things and probably a lot more on his laptop, but, at least from his journal, it seems like it''s vague pieces of information and little that''s fully concrete. The beginning portion of his research, I suppose."


    "And he''s got it all in here?" Kristin rubbed his fingers across the cover of Ashley''s journal.


    Charlie nodded. "He might have other journals and have collected other information, but at least part of it is in his journal."


    "How long did he know about the whistleblower''s claims?"


    Ferris sighed. "Well..." he trailed off. "We don''t know for sure. The days give us a better sense, but it''s not exact. Our guess is that Ashley knew for a couple of weeks, perhaps the last month or two, but we can''t say that with any certainty."


    Kristin was quiet for a few minutes.


    He wished Ashley would''ve told him. Told any of them. The SFPU could''ve helped. It might''ve been dangerous. They might''ve turned over rocks that didn''t want to be lifted. Enemies might''ve been made. But the SFPU didn''t make any of them popular. It carried with it an inherent danger; they went after the criminals seeking to slaughter the wildlife in Silverlight Forest. Dangerous was something they''d dealt with before. They knew how to capture criminals while still remaining lawful, and they had capabilities beyond what the average citizen of Waverwell had. Not the same capabilities as an officer at one of the Precincts or under government employment, but more than the average citizen; they could carry concealed guns and an array of weapons without permits on their body anywhere and use them, they could make arrests, they could train and utilize dogs in hunting offenders.


    They knew how to work together as a team, even in dangerous and high-stress situations.


    The SFPU could''ve helped. So why hadn''t Ashley told any of them anything? Why had Ashley kept it all a secret? A pang of hurt sliced through Kristin''s heart.


    We could''ve figured it out, Ashley, he thought, wishing as hard as he could that his brother could hear. Hard enough that his chest hurt and his heart clenched and his insides twisted up. Whatever it was, we would''ve figured it out. Just like in Cat''s Cradle, when we stuck by each other no matter what. No matter how bad it got, we always had each other.


    Why didn''t you tell us? We would''ve figured it out. There were six of us, not just two. We had Cynthia Corville. The President of Waverwell. She would''ve helped.


    I wish you would''ve told us, Ashley.


    A spark of anger flickered in Kristin''s gut, but it fizzled out within a fraction of a second, drowned beneath the waves of grief that rolled through him. Up and down and up and down. A churning, swirling tide that didn''t give him the relief of a moment''s rest.


    "What do we do now?" Kristin lifted his gaze from Ashley''s journal. He exhaled a slow, trembling breath.


    **Start of discussions about what to do with Ashley''s body/interactions with his cremated body/laying him to rest**


    "Did Ashley ever write a will or anything like that?" Ferris''s voice was soft. Kristin hated how he knew Ferris had changed his tone to seem less threatening, more gentle. "I know you said you didn''t think he had, but I wanted to ask again since perhaps you found something."


    Kristin shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "No." The sound was almost a whimper. Frustrated, he drew in a sharp breath between his teeth, fists tightening. "He never did. It was never needed in Cat''s Cradle since no one was looking for us. No one would know or even notice if either of us died. Only the other would ever have knowledge of our existence. When we joined the SFPU, it didn''t cross either of our minds. We never really talked about death. The few times we did, we''d just joked about growing old and fat together in some far-off little cabin squirreled away in the middle of nowhere, still forgotten by everyone else."


    "Didn''t your parents know?" Charlie asked. Family had been a touchy subject, one that had been avoided for the most part unless explicitly brought up by the person talking.


    "We didn''t know our parents. I don''t have any memory of anyone raising us. It was always just me and Ashley."


    "Well," Ferris said. "If Ashley didn''t write a will or anything that would say what he''d like done with his body and possessions in the event of his death, the decision falls into your hands, Kristin. You''re his brother. Cynthia Corville has offered the ceremony and burial given to Waverwell government officials. Ashley would be laid to rest in the Corville Cemetery. The choice is yours, though. Whatever you believe Ashley would''ve wanted."


    Kristin choked on a breath. "I-I... I can''t."


    "You can." Kristin flinched at Zip''s words, but before he could reply, Zip continued.


    "You can," he repeated. "You... you knew A-Ashley better than-better than us. You... you know what he would''ve said in... in a will had he-he b-been able to write one. Probably r-really, really tough, I-I''m sure... but you know. Follow your... your heart, I guess. Hard, but you can do it."


    "I can''t... cuz then I have to say goodbye. I can''t lose him. He''s my brother."


    Kristin knew Ashley was dead. There was no bringing him back. Ashley''s body was a body¡ª it no longer housed his brother. It was beginning to break down. What had once kept his body alive and functioning no longer existed. Everything that had made Ashley Ashley was gone.


    His brother was decomposing. Breaking down. The sterile environment at the Moonfall Precinct could prevent and slow that, but there was only so much that science could do. Stopping natural processes wasn''t one of those things. He would have to make that decision of what would happen with Ashley''s body. The thought of doing so make his heart twist and clench in his chest.


    Kristin shuddered as his mind''s eye fell back onto the memories of seeing Ashley''s body. His dark skin paled from a lack of blood and torn from the countless cuts and gashes. The fleeting glimpse of how his throat had been split open because Kristin couldn''t bear to look at the fatal wound that had taken his brother''s life any longer. The limp feel of his brother''s hand as Kristin clung to it and tried to will life back into his body.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Nothing Kristin could do would ever be able to bring back Ashley. He had never felt so utterly helpless. Completely at the mercy of whatever cruel being had decided Ashley''s fate.


    Charlie got out of her chair and sat down next to Kristin, forearms on her knees. She twirled the knotted bracelets on her water bottle around her fingers. Ferris followed suit, as did Zip.


    "I know it is a very tough decision, probably one of the toughest you''ve ever needed to make-."


    Kristin cut Ferris off. "The toughest," he snarled, vision blurred by stinging tears. "The toughest decision I''ve had to make, and I can''t even make it because the second I think of Ashley it''s like my heart gets ripped from my chest and stomped into the ground. As soon as I think of Ashley I have to think about the fact that I can never see him again. I can never say goodbye. I can never hug him again. I have to live the rest of my life without my brother, and I had no say in that. He got murdered in the same forest we vowed to protect, and I could do nothing. We were always there for each other, but I wasn''t there for him when he needed me the most." He stopped when he choked on a breath, and when he continued, his voice was far softer. It had lost the edge and the bite, instead becoming something closer to a whimper. "And I can''t even tell him I''m sorry. I can''t even give him a hug and tell him that I love him and that I miss him. I couldn''t even tell him goodbye. God, it hurts so much. If it feels like this, how am I supposed to live the rest of my life without him? What is forever going to be like without my brother? He''s one of the few I''d actually want to spend any sort of forever with, and I can''t even do that. Why''d he have to go? Why''d he have to get murdered?"


    "I don''t know," Ferris murmured. "I wish I could say."


    "I don''t want any useless platitudes. Nothing can bring back Ashley." Kristin''s voice cracked, and he buried his face in his arms.


    "What do you need?" Charlie asked. "I want to help if I can, but I don''t know what would be most helpful to you."


    Kristin glanced up at her than looked away. He sighed. "I don''t know what to do with Ashley''s body or any of his stuff."


    "Are you..." Zip trailed off, frowning at the ground as he chewed on his lip. "Are you-. Do you want us to... to just listen or-or do you want us t-to help?"


    Kristin paused. "I don''t know," he eventually mumbled.


    "How about we listen and then if you''d like our opinion or recommendation or anything, you just let us know?" Ferris offered.


    "How do you decide?"


    "How do you decide what?" Charlie asked, twirling the knotted bracelets on her water bottle around her fingers. It was clear she knew but didn''t want to assume.


    Kristin pressed back into the leg of the table, tilting his head back so the sunlight streaming through the window didn''t shine directly into his eyes. He took a shaky breath, then another. "What to do with Ashley. I don''t want to."


    "I wish there was something I could say that would make it easier. Some convenient decision," Ferris said, "but I can''t, because I''d be lying and I''d be taking the decision from you. I know it''s hard, but Ashley cannot say what he''d like done with his body and belongings, and so the decision rests with you. You''re his brother, and you know him better than anyone else. This is probably about the worst time to be asking you to make any sort of choice, especially one like this, but you need to decide what you would like done with Ashley''s body."


    "I know. I know, I know, I know. It-it''s just... it''ll feel so much more real. Then I can''t keep wishing that I''d just wake up from this nightmare. I could just keep living in the in-between and not have to figure out how to accept that he''s gone. That the pain''s never going away because Ashley''s never walking through the door again." Kristin spared the front door a longing glance. He could so clearly picture his brother opening it and greeting them with a wide smile and a cheerful hello. It felt so real that maybe it really was.


    "I know, Kristin. I know." Ferris''s gaze held a thousand emotions and a depth Kristin hadn''t seen before. "It''s about the hardest decision one could ever have to make, and I wouldn''t wish it on my worst enemy. We''re all here for you in whatever way you want."


    "What-," Kristin started but broke off when his breath caught in his throat. His heart shattered and crumbled even just thinking about bringing Ashley''s body to any sort of rest, and saying any words related make it feel so much more real. So much more painful. But he continued, voice a hoarse croak: "What are... what are the-the options?"


    Ferris took a breath. "Well, there''s the burial Cynthia offered. There would be a big ceremony for Ashley. I don''t know the details of what it would entail, but it would be elaborate and honor Ashley. He would be buried in the Corville Cemetery, as most Waverwell government officials are. Ashley could also be buried elsewhere, with a big ceremony or a smaller one or no ceremony at all and just do something very small. He could also be cremated, and you could keep his ashes or spread them in some place he loved."


    It was an overwhelming feeling, having to decide.


    Kristin racked his brain, trying to remember anything Ashley might''ve said that gave any sort of clue as to what he would''ve decided for himself, if given the option.


    Ashley had never been one to draw a lot of attention to himself. He was a people-person, but never particularly liked being the center of attention. His love of people and just things lay more in helping, in doing.


    Before the SFPU, they hadn''t had a real home. They didn''t have any place to return to, a place they could always go. The closest thing was the bluffs on the outskirts of Cat''s Cradle. But that wasn''t a home; it was just grasses overlooking the run-down city they were trying to survive in. Somewhere they could get a brief escape. They were kids, then teens, then young adults who had somehow managed to carve out a way to stay alive. Death had never been something they thought about.


    The SFPU was their first real home and their first truly honest work. No stealing, no cheating, no hustling¡ª just real work for real money. Holding his first paycheck in his hands was something Kristin never thought he''d been able to do. Ashley had kept his within arm''s reach for the rest of the day and stole countless glances at it. He''d been so excited for the next supply run, and he''d returned home with a dozen books because he just couldn''t decide which one to get and little gifts for everyone. Kristin still had the fuzzy little toy mouse on his bedside table, thick grey fur matted with dust.


    "Not the ceremony," Kristin said. He knew it was right when something settled just so in his chest. Like pieces of a puzzle falling together. He knew Ashley would''ve wanted something smaller, something more personal.


    As if sensing Kristin needed more time, no one replied and gave him peace and quiet to work through his thoughts.


    Kristin thought back to the conversations between him and Ashley when they were living in Cat''s Cradle. They always just took it day by day with little thought to the future. Any thought to the past was learning from mistakes. In their free time ¡ªwhether in the evenings before they fell asleep or when they were resting between finding food and whatever else they needed¡ª they talked. They talked about anything and everything. Whatever was on their minds then. Sometimes it was memories, sometimes what if questions, sometimes making up stories, sometimes watching people walk by and creating funny stories about what they might be doing.


    They''d talked about the future. What they think they''d do in ten years, twenty. When they were old and grey. It had been hard to imagine a life outside of Cat''s Cradle. A life where they were holding down steady jobs, had a house. Maybe they''d even find spouses, but after a quick glance at the other, they''d laughed. Can you imagine, Ashley had said, finding a spouse? Having someone else would be so weird. I can''t imagine. Kristin agreed.


    Even still, he''d wondered. Wondered what it would be like to have someone else close in his life who wasn''t Ashley. He was pretty sure Ashley had wondered too.


    He''d always thought Ashley would be there when he fell in love or when he''d gotten his heart broken. Be there to celebrate a love found or comfort him and help him pick up the pieces, if he ever found someone he wanted in that romantic way.


    But I guess that just wasn''t in the cards, huh? He thought, steeling himself against the pull towards the rabbit hole. Ashley can''t be there for anything? And I can''t be there for him? We can''t get to celebrate our successes and comfort each other when things went wrong? Why? Why did he have to die? Please, just tell me. I''m begging you. Please. I just want to know.


    Ashley, I''m so sorry. I should''ve been there for you.


    Kristin took a breath. He knew he needed to make some sort of decision; waiting would only make it worse. It would only hurt even more, if that were possible. He could decide. For Ashley, he could decide. He was doing it for Ashley, because his brother deserved to be put to rest and honored in the way he would''ve wanted if he could''ve made the decision himself.


    And so Kristin gathered the tattered scraps of his mind and tried to force them to work, to come to some sort of decision.


    "I..." Kristin rubbed at his eyes and sniffled. "I think we should cremate him."


    "You would like to cremate Ashley?" Ferris said.


    Kristin sighed, high noise a whine from his throat. "I don''t know," he croaked.


    Ferris paused, careful eyes scanning Kristin. "You can have more time if you''d like. We''re not going to force you into a decision."


    "No, no. He-he. Ashley''s rotting. I need to decide."


    "Ashley isn''t rotting." Ferris shook his head. "His body is being kept safe and sound at the Moonfall Precinct. If you need more time, you can have it."


    "So safe and sound he must be. My brother is laying dead there." Kristin leapt to his feet, fingers clenched in bloodless fists. Every muscle was tensed, coiled as tight as a loaded spring. He choked on his next exhale, a pained whimper. "He''s been ripped to shreds because I wasn''t there! Do you call cold and dead safe and sound, Ferris? Do you?"


    "I apologize," Ferris said. "I did not intend for my words to come across that way, but intentions to not override the impact words can have. I meant that Ashley''s body was not going to decompose at the Moonfall Precinct. You have more time if you need it. I did not mean that Ashley being murdered equates in any way, shape, or form to safe and sound, because that is not the case."


    "Such fancy words," Kristin grumbled. "He was murdered. It wasn''t ok. He didn''t deserve that."


    "He did not," Ferris agreed, voice soft.


    Kristin took a breath, then forced the words out before he could swallow them down. "We should... we should cremate him."


    "You''d like to cremate Ashley?" Ferris echoed his previous statement.


    Kristin nodded. "Yeah, let''s-let''s cremate Ashley."


    "Would you like to keep his ashes, or is there a place you''d like to spread them?"


    The answer came quicker than Kristin thought it would, and he only found himself thinking for a minute or two before he knew. "The bluffs near Cat''s Cradle," he said.


    "You want us there or you want to do it yourself?" Charlie asked, voice a slow drawl. Her words were even less enunciated than they usually were, a tell that she was beginning to shut down in a way similar to how Zip sometimes did, not that Kristin would ever mention it. He didn''t have the energy currently, and even if he did, he had no intention of calling her on it, not with everything going on.


    "You can come." Kristin knew Ashley would want them there. The year spent in the SFPU had fostered a deep bond between the six of them. It was a makeshift family Kristin and Ashley hadn''t really ever had. It gave them the first friends they ever had who weren''t the other. "Ashley would want you to come. He really liked you guys. All of you."


    xxxx


    It was a week later, and the bluffs overlooking Cat''s Cradle were devoid of anyone. The air was silent, hanging heavily in the sky. Kristin briefly wondered if the bluffs had been intentionally cleared but didn''t give it any further thought; he was holding Ashley''s ashes tight to his chest, arms cradling the urn. It was the last time he''d get to hug his brother, even as one-sided at it was, and he wasn''t going to waste it.


    He could almost feel Ashley''s arms around his middle, the ghostly touch so achingly familiar. His heart twisted.


    What he wouldn''t do for just one more embrace.


    The rest of the SFPU trailed a few steps behind him, silently following and giving him his space. Somnus, Morpheus, and Pyxis padded beside Ren; they hadn''t wanted to leave the dogs behind on such a long trip and they hadn''t felt comfortable asking if Larson Hotch or anyone at the Moonfall Precinct would be willing to watch them. Morpheus''s wound had healed enough that he was returning to his normal level of activity, and the short hike gave Ren the chance to watch his gait and see how he moved.


    It was a familiar trek up the side of the bluffs. Little had changed since Kristin had last seen them. There were a few new little bushes and shrubs, but it was nearly exactly as he had remembered it. The same trail snaked up the side, zig-zagging up the steepest parts to keep the path at a safe incline. A couple cut-throughs had been created by people doing dares¡ª get to the top the quickest.


    Kristin and Ashley had partaken in a few dares themselves, ones they knew they''d be able to win. They had only ever agreed when the money to be won was high enough to be worth it and had stopped joining in once Kristin had almost fallen.


    As he passed that spot by, Kristin gave it a lingering glance. He wouldn''t ever forget that lurch in his chest and the spark of panic that was quickly followed by the world becoming that much sharper and the prickle of sweat on the back of his neck.


    xxxx


    Standing on the top of the bluffs, Kristin''s heart ached at the familiar view. The run-down buildings making up Cat''s Cradle spilled across the hillside like popsicle stick and playing card houses. A few tilted perilously to the side, as if drunk. Far off in the distance, past the expanse of grasses and shrubs covering the southern half of the Twin Mountains, Kristin could see the outline of Dal and Corville. Little smudges on the horizon.


    He couldn''t count how many hours he and Ashley had spent up on the bluffs, most of the time just sitting down to watch Cat''s Cradle and talk.


    Kristin could almost see Ashley''s outline. Laying back against one of the rocks poking through the grass, picking the bark off a stick, weaving together flower stems to create a bouquet. He could almost hear Ashley''s laughter, the rise and fall of his voice when he talked. He could almost feel the pressure of Ashley''s touch when he shoved Kristin''s shoulder with a cry of disbelief. Come on. That''s just ridiculous, Kristin. No way.


    The never-ending rain was little more than a mist that created dark spots on the shoulders of Kristin''s shirt but didn''t soak through. He didn''t flinch; he had long ago gotten used to the rain. Zip tugged the hood of his jacket over his head and pulled his sleeves down to cover his hands. His shoulders shrugged up, but he didn''t say anything.


    Ren had the dogs sit off to the side, and they told each to stay, holding up a hand to go with the verbal command before turning their back. None of the dogs moved.


    Kristin sat down on a rock, settling Ashley''s urn in his lap. We''re here, Ashley, he thought, sending the message silently outward in hopes that his brother would be able to hear it. We''re here on the bluffs. I hope this is where you''d want to be. We came here so much when we were living in Cat''s Cradle. It was as close as you could get to a home without every having one.


    His heart twisted. If this isn''t where you''d want to be laid to rest, I hope you can forgive me.


    "Does anyone want to... uh, say anything?" Kristin asked, tracing his fingertips over the lid of the urn. The neat lines carved into the metal surface were delicate, carefully placed to give it a minimalist feel. Decoration without being intricate. Just enough there that it didn''t feel empty, but not so much that the surface became crowded.


    Kristin didn''t quite know how to begin Ashley''s service. What the right way was to say goodbye. He knew there was some way Ashley would''ve chosen if he had been able, but he wasn''t sure what that way was. He hoped laying him to rest on the bluffs was what Ashley wanted.


    Charlie plopped down next to Ferris, wiping away a water droplet from her cheek with a soft smile. They each sat beside each other on a smooth rock covered in a thin, patchy layer of lichen. She looked up with a startled expression when Ferris bumped his shoulder into hers and gave her a pointed look.


    "Oh," she said, "uh, I do." She took a breath. "Ashley and I... we had, I guess like many of you know, a sort of back-and-forth prank thing goin''. We''d do things to mess with each other. Onion caramel apples, furniture transformed into temporary plant nurseries, googly eyes on food, sticky notes covering whole rooms.


    "The most memorable was when Ashley transformed himself into a chair. He nearly gave me a heart attack when I sat down on his lap and then he wrapped his arms around me with a roar. I still don''t know how he managed to create such a realistic chair costume and pull it off so successfully cuz I had no clue it wasn''t a real chair, but he did it and it was one of my favorite pranks done by either of us.


    "The camp doesn''t feel the same without him. I don''t think it''ll ever really feel the same.


    "We''ll figure out who murdered him, I know we will. It''ll get him justice, but it won''t bring him back. Nothing can. We''ll get to some new normal, but it won''t be the same. He''ll still be gone, and it sucks. I know he''d want us to remember all the good stuff. All the laughs and fun moments we had. But it''s hard not to get..." Charlie trailed off, harrumphing and kicking a pebble away with her foot. "I just keep getting caught up in all the bad stuff about how Ashley isn''t here and how he should be. I miss him. He was like a ray of sunshine. I can''t remember him ever acting like he was in a bad mood. He was always cheerful. He was a jack of all trades and could do almost anythin''. He was like glue. I''m pretty sure he could get even the worst of enemies to become best friends.


    "I miss him so much. I know he''s no longer in pain and I have no clue if he''s still here or if there''s even something after death, but if he''s still here and there''s something waiting for when you die, I hope he''s happy. We''ll join him soon enough, but I hope he''s happy. I mean," Charlie said, a sad smile playing across her face, "it''s the afterlife. It''s gotta be nice."


    Kristin stared at his feet, watching as a trail of ants marched across the toe of his boot. He huffed. "If Ashley''s still around in some way, he''s probably sitting right next to us." Kristin lifted his gaze. Perhaps his brother was beside him, maybe standing off to the side by Ferris and Charlie, maybe leaning back against a rock alongside Ren, maybe resting with his legs crossed with Zip. "He wouldn''t have given up the SFPU for anything. He loved it here. It was probably the best thing that happened. I don''t... I don''t know that he would''ve left, even knowing how it would-how it would end." Kristin''s nose scrunched as his throat closed up.


    The mist sprinkling down around the group turned into a drizzle, and water droplets splattered across the grass. Kristin leaned forward to shield Ashley''s urn with his body.


    "Ashley was dedicated," Ren murmured, gaze distant as they fiddled with a blade of grass. "He was extremely dedicated. When he decided he wanted to do something, he was going to do it."


    "Dedicated like me," Charlie chuckled. "Nothing was gonna stop him." She dropped her head, eyes on her hands. The corners of her mouth fell, and a thousand pained emotions flickered across her face before she locked them behind whatever brick wall she''d lifted in her head and threw away the key.


    "No," Kristin agreed, "nothing would stop him. Not when he put his mind to it. Especially with friends. He would''ve done anything and no one was going to get in his way. Stubborn like hell but loyal to a fault."


    Twigs cracked beneath Zip''s feet as he shifted his weight and then folded himself onto the ground after brushing a few leaves from a rock to get a drier place to sit. His body was tense, held stiffly, as if awaiting something unknown. "He..." Zip began before closing his mouth and furrowing his brow. It was another few moments before he continued. "Ashley was good with his hands. He-he picked up on stuff... quickly." Zip tilted his head to the side. "I mean... he figured out cars in a few days. Helped me on-on stuff enough that it be-became like his second job. Didn''t even have to ask. Just did it. Just showed up and asked what he could do. Would be a lot less far along on the-the Camera Traps without his help. Meant a-a lot... I hope he knew that."


    "He probably got a bunch of books about cars and mechanics," said Charlie. "He wanted to know everything about anything that piqued his interest."


    "I believe he did," Ferris replied, brushing a few locks of hair that were sticking to his forehead. "I remember seeing him reading through several books on how cars worked and how to repair them."


    "Ashley always wanted to know anything he could about damn near everything." Kristin huffed a laugh, wiping at his eyes in a heavy movement with the back of his hand. He ignored how much he was trembling and how tears rolled down his cheeks. No one commented; they were all crying some as well. Even Ferris, who Ashley had often teased for having an unbreakable poker face, had watery eyes.


    The SFPU had lost one of their own.


    And it hurt even more that it had been on their own turf.


    Kristin wondered for the millionth time if there was something he could''ve done. If somehow he''d known that Ashley was out by Myway Highway in need of help, that Kristin could''ve saved his brother.


    No, he thought. Ashley''s gone. You can''t keep getting caught up in the what-ifs. It''s too late for that. You can get justice for Ashley, though, and make whoever''s responsible pay for what they did.


    But another part of him still wondered if he would''ve been able to save Ashley if he''d somehow known what was happening out by Myway Highway. If he''d known how much his brother needed him.


    "What do you think things are going to look like in the future?" asked Ren, curling up cross-legged on a rock a few feet to Kristin''s side. They angled themselves so the dogs ¡ªstill sitting patiently¡ª were in their field of vision. "Ashley could get along with anyone, but now he''s... he''s not here."


    Kristin only managed a pained shrug.


    Ashley''s urn was a lead weight in his lap. Simultaneously something he wanted removed but never wanted to let go. Something that hurt so much but would hurt infinitely more when gone.


    Ferris spoke up. "We''ll still be able to run the SFPU if we decide that is what''s best for us. It won''t be the same. Nothing will. But we''ll be able to run it how we feel is best. But we''re not in any hurry," said Ferris, giving Kristin a meaningful look. "We have all the time we need to figure things out."


    A breeze blew through, and the scents of the dirt and flora filled the air, melding with the smell of rain. Grasses whispered across each other. A few of the longer blades brushed against Kristin''s legs, bringing back memories from when he and Ashley came up here before they joined the SFPU. When they were still living in Cat''s Cradle and their lives were so simple yet also so hard. They could do as they pleased when they pleased, but there was always the looming reminder that they needed food, water, money, clothes, and a place to sleep. It was black and white¡ª no one was coming for them, and so it fell on the two of them to find a way to survive.


    The SFPU had felt like they could relax and take a breath. Set down the weight they had been carrying for so long.


    But Kristin couldn''t help but wonder if Ashley would still be here if they had never joined the SFPU.


    "Are you going to spread Ashley''s ashes?" asked Charlie, breaking the silence hanging over the bluffs.


    "Charlie!" Ferris turned to face her.


    "What?" She frowned. "I was just asking. Well aware it''s his choice and I wasn''t gonna force anything. Wasn''t gonna push if he said yes or no. Just an honest question."


    "Sounded a bit like you were pushing," Ferris replied.


    "We probably should," murmured Kristin. He tilted Ashley''s urn back so he could see the entire side of it. A droplet of water trickled down the side, following the etched-in grooves. He brushed it away.


    Kristin was holding his brother in his hands, and he hated it. It was the closest he''d ever be to his brother again, but it wasn''t really his brother. Ashley had died almost two weeks ago, and his body had stopped truly being his brother the second he took his last breath.


    Why did you have to go, Ashley?


    "How would you like to do it, Kristin?" Ren asked. Their voice was soft, gentle, as if talking to a skittish animal, and Kristin hated it, yet he also appreciated that no one was assuming anything. "All of us could be here, or it could just be you. We could stand off to the side, or we could head back to the car and give you some space." They kept their voice and expression neutral.


    Kristin chewed on his lip. His heart twisted in his chest, clenching like someone was squeezing it in their fist. Tears burned in his eyes.


    He was about to say goodbye to his brother in the most immediate, permanent way he could think of.


    "By myself," was all he could choke out. He needed some time alone and the chance to say his goodbyes in private.


    Ren nodded. "We''ll be down by the car. We all have our phones, and you can call or message us if you need anything. Take as long as you need; we''re not in any rush."


    Kristin managed a nod, not moving from where he sat on the rock.


    Zip drew closer, hovering for a few moments. Just when Kristin was about to ask what Zip was doing, he felt a jacket being placed over his shoulders. "I have another," was all Zip said before he walked off.


    A few moments later, Kristin was alone, still cradling Ashley''s ashes in his arms. It was the closest he could get to hugging his brother, but it felt the furthest away he had ever been. An impossibly large distance, because he had his brother in his embrace, but it wasn''t his brother. Not really.


    The second Ashley died, it was like everything that made him Ashley was gone, and Kristin was left holding something so close to his brother in his arms but that wasn''t truly his brother.


    But still, he tightened his grip. The metal of Ashley''s urn was cool beneath his finger tips. Neat designs had been carved into the surface, giving it a clean, minimalist finish.


    Everything felt still. Too still. It was as if someone had taken the remote of the world and pressed pause. The air felt still, heavy, looming around him like an oversized blanket. A choking sensation that clung to his body and smothered the earth.


    Zip''s jacket provided some measure of comfort, both in that it created a barrier from the rain and that he had thought to give it to him. Had thought about how he might want it. Kristin tugged the jacket more snugly around his shoulders. The fit was a little tight but he didn''t care.


    "Hi, Ashley," Kristin murmured, tilting his head forward to rest his forehead against the top of the urn. "I don''t know if you can hear me, but I miss you. I hope I made the right choice. Don''t hate me if I decided wrong. I wish you were here. I need you, Ashley. You''re my brother. We were supposed to grow old and grey together, remember?"


    He took several shaky breaths.


    "I''m sorry I wasn''t there, Ashley. I''m so sorry," he whimpered. "I''m sorry I wasn''t there. I should''ve been there for you when you needed me most but I wasn''t, and I''m so sorry. I can''t imagine what you went through and how scared you must''ve been. I should''ve been there."


    He trailed off, taking a shaky breath.


    "I... I miss you, Ashley. I wish you were here. You should still be here. But you''re not. And I can''t bring you back. I can''t create some... zombified you. And even if I could, I know you wouldn''t want that. You would be so mad if I brought you back to life. And I know it would be my own selfish desire to not have to say goodbye.


    "I don''t know how to say goodbye to you, Ashley. You''re my brother. You''re the only family I ever knew. You were so loyal and so kind. And nothing could''ve stopped you from learning. You had an insatiable desire to learn, Ashley." Kristin huffed a soft laugh as tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto the grass. "You could never have enough books. I don''t know what I''m going to do with all those books. Maybe I''ll read them. Continue learning so you don''t have to stop. You know, it hurts a little less if I think that you''re still here with me." He held out Ashley''s urn to look at it, as if he were holding his brother''s shoulders and staring him in the eye, not meeting his reflection''s gaze in the shiny metal of the urn. But when all Kristin saw was his own watery eyes, he pulled the urn back to his chest with a sniveling breath and shifted Zip''s jacket on his shoulders so it didn''t fall off.


    "Maybe you really are still here, Ashley. It doesn''t sit right to think that you''d just be gone. But maybe that''s just the part of me that can''t let go, can''t say goodbye. I mean, I''m just sitting here and talking to this stupid urn because I''m stalling. I thought that sending the rest of the SFPU away would make it easier and somehow let me get that little bit closer so I''d be able to lay you to rest. I sent them away out of my own selfish inability to do the one thing I still can for you, and I didn''t even think about whether or not you would''ve wanted them there, Ashley. I couldn''t save you. I couldn''t help you when you needed me the most. But I could still do this one thing for you; I could lay you to rest in the way you would''ve wanted. Please forgive me for letting my emotions get in the way of giving you the service you would''ve wanted and deserve.


    "God. I miss you so much already. I don''t know how I''m supposed to go the rest of my life ¡ªforever¡ª without you, Ashley. I don''t know how to do it. You were my rock. I hope you knew that. You were always there for me and were, for the longest time, the one person I could always go to. But now you''re not here. I feel like I''m sinking."


    Kristin sighed, wiping at his cheek and then dragging his palm across his pant leg. The fabric was damp from the rain. "If you''re around in some way, I hope you''re doing better. That you''re whole and healthy again. You didn''t deserve that, Ashley. We should''ve grown old and fat together and then died of old age like we''d joked about so much in the past. Become exactly like those old people we''d talked about¡ª sipping drinks with little umbrellas in lounge chairs by the pool. We''d have those cucumbers over our eyes and face masks on. The easy life, remember?


    "But we won''t get that, because you were taken far too early. We should''ve died of old age and slipped away painlessly in our sleep. But you won''t. I wish I was there, Ashley. I wish I could''ve taken away your pain. I wish I could''ve saved you, but I can''t. And I''m sorry for that.


    "I can''t do anything. I can''t bring you back. I can''t turn back time and race to that spot just off of Myway Highway. I know that you''re gone, Ashley, but it doesn''t make it hurt any less. I wish I could give you just one more hug, tell you that I love you just one more time, share a laugh with you just one last time. But I can''t.


    "All I can say is that you''re the best brother I could''ve ever asked for, Ashley Baok. The best brother. I wouldn''t ever give up knowing you. I''d take the pain of losing you again and again because I got to know you. You were always there for me no matter what. You were loyal to a fault. There was nothing you wouldn''t do for someone you loved, because you cared so much. You had the biggest heart out of anyone I knew.


    "I don''t know what living in Cat''s Cradle would''ve been like without you, Ashley. I don''t know that I would''ve been able to do it. You kept me sane during those really difficult times when it felt like every soul in the universe was against us, and you shared the joy I felt during the easier times when it felt that maybe everything would be ok. You made those long nights hiding out in the cold a little easier with your silent comfort and your whispered encouragement. I only hope I helped you in the same way you helped me.


    "I''m so grateful for the time we had together. Don''t laugh at me if that sounds cheesy or something, Ashley. But I really am. I couldn''t have chosen a better brother if I tried.


    "I hope you''re ok wherever you are. I hope you know how much I love you."


    Tears burned in Kristin''s eyes and blurred his vision. He hunched forward, wrapping his body ever tighter around Ashley''s urn. The closest he could get to once last embrace with his brother.


    "I... I think I''ll be ok, Ashley," he found himself murmuring, and something in his gut told him it was the right think to say. "I don''t know how I''ll do it, but I think I''ll be ok. I don''t know if you can hear me or if you''re even still there, but you don''t need to worry. You can rest now. You can let go, because I''ll be ok. I have the SFPU¡ª Ferris, Ren, Charlie, and Zip. I have them. I''m not alone, not like we were in Cat''s Cradle."


    When Kristin was able to get his feet beneath him and stand up, he walked across the bluffs, grasses brushing against his shins. He needed to find the right place for Ashley''s ashes.


    It was the place where he would lay his brother to rest. It had to be perfect.


    The rain continued to fall steadily from the sky. Kristin pulled the hood of Zip''s jacket over his head to keep the raindrops from landing on his face.


    Eventually, he found a small sapling. It was only a few feet high, and its spindly branches were covered in a layer of delicate needles.


    Something about it just felt right, and something settled in Kristin''s chest.


    "Here you go, Ashley," he whispered. "Let''s lay you to rest."


    xxxx


    The hairs on the back of Kristin''s neck tingled when he stood up, brushing his palms across his pant legs, and he could almost feel the faint touch of fingers ghosting across his shoulders.


    Several birds took flight from a tree a ways off in the distance, and they soared through the sky, silhouetted against the sun and clouds.


    "I love you, Ashley," Kristin whispered, watching the birds glide across the air currents. "I miss you so much, but I''m so grateful for the time we had with each other. You can rest, Ashley. We''ll see each other again." Kristin huffed a short chuckle. "You''re not getting rid of me. Not now, not ever."


    The corner of his mouth quirked in the beginnings of a smile, but it fell soon after.


    Kristin''s legs felt like lead weights lodged in the ground.


    How was he supposed to leave behind his brother? They''d never done that. Not once in their lives. No one left behind.


    Raindrops trailed down his face, dripping from sodden locks of hair plastered to his forehead and from his nose. He was chilled down to his bones and he knew he was shivering, but he didn''t feel the cold; he just felt numb. Like he was floating in some empty space, somewhere between reality and a nightmare. That moment where sleep hadn''t quite let go but awake didn''t yet have a full grasp.


    Kristin turned back around. The little sapling swayed, branches bouncing each time a raindrop fell on it.


    "How am I supposed to leave you, Ashley? I know I can''t stay here forever and it hurts a little less thinking that we''ll see each other again, that this can''t be it, but I don''t know how I''m supposed to just walk away." Kristin sighed. "I know you''d say something stupid like just put one foot in front of the other¡ªit''s how I walk away. Yeah, you definitely would''ve made some joke like that to get me to smile and to make it easier. I can almost hear you, you know, Ashley?"


    **End of discussions about what to do with Ashley''s body/interactions with his cremated body/laying him to rest**


    Kristin took a deep breath.


    The first step he took back down the path felt like the entire population of Waverwell was clinging to his ankles.


    The second felt similar¡ª he was dragging a massive weight.


    Then he took a third step. A fourth. A fifth. A sixth.


    The desire to go back to Ashley ¡ªto his brother¡ª grew with every step, clawing at his chest and squeezing his throat until he was no longer shivering from the cold but from the sniveling sobs that wracked his body. Tears mixed with the raindrops running down his cheeks.


    Kristin continued down the trail one step at a time, and when the pain became too much, he crossed his arms over his chest and curled his fingers into Zip''s jacket, pulling it tight across his shoulders. A grounding reminder that he wasn''t alone. He wasn''t in Cat''s Cradle any more¡ª he was a part of the SFPU. He had more than Ashley. He had friends who would be there. Nothing could replace Ashley, but his friends would never leave him behind.


    He didn''t know how long it took to reach the base of the bluffs, but the SFPU car ¡ªthe SUV that was used for both driving in the cities and in the Forest¡ª soon came into view, followed by the other members of the SFPU. They let Kristin approach at his own pace, and when he got close enough, Ferris held out a thick blanket. When Kristin gave him a confused look, all he said was: "Every time Cat''s Cradle was mentioned by you or Ashley, the rain came up. I brought a few blankets in case we got poured on, and you look pretty cold so I thought I''d offer a blanket."


    Kristin gave a brief nod of his head as a thank you. He tugged off Zip''s jacket and replaced it with the blanket. It was warmer than the jacket, but he couldn''t help but miss the security, the reminder that his friends were there.


    But, he supposed, they''ve proved they''re there through actions that aren''t as physical as giving a jacket. They haven''t left, they haven''t assumed anything, they haven''t pushed more than I can take.


    Zip took his jacket back, holding it gingerly in his grip, and he quickly threw it into the back of the car where a small pile of other coats had been started.


    No one spoke as they all filed into the car. Ren loaded the dogs into the back after setting up expandable stairs, but they lifted up Morpheus themselves so as not to jostle the wound on his side too much.


    When Kristin climbed into the back seat next to Charlie, who was in the middle, she frowned at him momentarily but held her tongue. He didn''t reply and instead just rested his head against the window with a long exhale. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall; he''d shed enough tears already, right?


    Kristin barely noticed it when Zip turned the car on, asked if everyone was ready, and then piloted the car onto the road. He barely noticed it when Charlie leaned forward, turned the heat up, and then angled the vent toward him. He barely noticed it when Ren handed Charlie another blanket, which she placed beside him. "If you want it," she murmured.


    It was like he blinked and they were turning onto the drive that would take them from the outskirts of Moonfall and into Silverlight Forest. The twists and turns that were so familiar no longer felt comforting, and each bump the car went over felt like a knife slicing through his soul.


    The gate to the SFPU camp creaked open, then closed after Zip drove through and pressed the remote button.


    Kristin pushed away the hand Ren offered as he exited the car, and then weaseled his way in front of Zip to get into the house first. Zip let out a little gasp of surprise and stumbled back a step to avoid touching him, but he didn''t say anything.


    After fastening the lock, Kristin slid down his door and pulled his knees to his chest.


    He felt like he couldn''t get enough air, like all the oxygen had been sucked from the atmosphere. Logically, he knew that wasn''t the case, but his scrambled mind felt that very well may have been true.


    But he forced himself to take several long, deep breaths until he could think a little easier. Breathe, Kristin. Breathe, he told himself. There was plentiful oxygen. As much as he could possibly need.


    He knew the haze fogging up his mind was panic, exhaustion, and the overwhelmingness of everything that had happened over the last two weeks. Of losing Ashley.


    He pressed his forehead into his knees and wrapped his arms a little tighter around his legs. "You have your friends," he whispered. "You have your friends, and they''re not going anywhere. They''ll keep you from sinking."


    xxxx


    It was well into the evening when Kristin slid into a chair at the kitchen table and pillowed his chin on his crossed arms. The lip of the table dug into his ribs, but he welcomed the sharp ache. Anything was better than the yawning void of grief that he teetered on the edge of.


    The setting sun shone through the window, rays silhouetting the trees. Insects chirped, and an owl sang. The air felt so still, yet also charged, like some invisible current was running through it.


    "I''m gonna find something for dinner," Charlie said. She swung open the fridge. "You want anything, Kristin?"


    He shrugged. "Whatever you''re making." He wasn''t hungry, but he had to eat.


    "I''m getting some snacks. Some broccoli, a bit of chicken, probably some crackers or somethin''."


    "That''ll be fine."


    "Alrighty. I''ll bring you a plate when I''m done."


    Kristin nodded, running his hands through his hair and pulling at the ends.


    A few minutes later, just as Charlie was walking over, balancing two plates and a bag of chips in her hands, Ferris entered the living room, followed by Ren and Zip.


    "Hey," greeted Charlie, handing Kristin his plate.


    "Is there any more chicken?" Ren asked.


    Charlie took a massive bite of sandwich, staring up at the ceiling in thought. "Yeah, like one or two more servings, I think. Guesstimate so don''t quote me. In the left drawer."


    Ren nodded, offering a quick thanks.


    Kristin picked at his meal while the others found something to eat.


    Eventually, they all wound up at the table. Zip curled up in his chair with a cup of hot cocoa, Ren settled in but kept an eye on the window to watch the dogs'' building, Ferris leaned back as he took a bite of his sandwich, and Charlie hunched over her meal.


    "Any updates on the Moonfall Precinct''s investigation into who murdered Ashley?" Charlie moved her food around on her plate, mixing it all together into a multicolored mush of broccoli, chicken, chips, and part of a sandwich that ruined Kristin''s already non-existent appetite.


    "Nothing as of yet, but I wouldn''t be surprised if they returned to here again to ask more questions or do another search of something. They know how to investigate, but we knew Ashley better than anyone else. Kristin knew him the best." Ferris shrugged. "They''ll find who did it. I have no doubt about that."


    Kristin leaned back in his chair, slouching down as he crossed his arms and stared at his plate, food virtually untouched. "Shouldn''t we be doing something, though?"


    "We can''t really do much, but we can be there to do everything the Moonfall Precinct needs us to. They''ve got Asa and Azrael Smith helping them, and they''re the best in Waverwell. They''ve got the highest closing rate of cases out of any detectives."


    "About ninety-three percent of the cases they take get solved," Zip murmured. "The average percentage of-of cases that get solved by the Precincts is around... sixty-five... seventy percent. If-if I''m remembering correctly."


    Ren dropped their fork in the sink. "Ninety-three," they breathed. "That''s crazy high. If anyone can solve Ashley''s murder and get him justice, it''ll be them."


    Kristin knew the full weight of what a ninety-three percent closing rate meant, but his brain was stuck on how he should be doing something to help and how he didn''t know what. Ferris had already reached out to Larson Hotch and the Moonfall Precinct, asking if they needed anything and letting them know they were back from Cat''s Cradle. Zip had reached out a few hours prior in the morning. Charlie was checking her phone every few minutes, as did Ren.


    Kristin had his phone in his pocket, and it felt like a lead weight. The last phone call he had made was to Ashley, asking him where he was. The knowledge that Ashley was dead when Kristin had made that phone call made his heart sink through the floor and bile rise in his throat. How blissfully ignorant that Kristin had been. How little did he know just how much his whole world would change just a short while later?


    His chair skittered back on its back two legs then fell over when he stood up, swiping his plate from the table and scraping his meal into the trash can. He''d managed a few nibbles of broccoli and a bite of chicken before he felt like he was going to vomit.


    "There''s gotta be something," Kristin said. His voice edged toward desperate. Knuckles white and fingers squeezing the sponge until soap frothed around his hand, he scoured his plate, and then nearly threw it into the dishwasher, slamming the door to it closed.


    "Here, I can get your cup and fork." Ren gently pried them from his grip.


    "Well..." Charlie hummed around a mouthful of food. She finished chewing before continuing: "There''s whatever Ashley was lookin'' at that he was writing about in his journal. We could see what he was researching."


    "Continue his work?" Something fluttered in Kristin''s chest.


    Charlie nodded. "Yeah," she replied.


    "I like that," he said.


    They could honor Ashley. He never left anything unfinished¡ª if he started it, then it would get done. But he hadn''t been given the chance to finish this, and so the SFPU could do it for him in his memory.


    Kristin''s heart clenched, in pain but also in love. He felt a little closer to his brother, and he knew he had to do it. The SFPU had to do it.


    "Let''s create a new group," Kristin found himself saying, mouth working faster than his conscious mind could. "The SFPU hunts poachers in Silverlight Forest. Let''s create a new group that hunts Ashley''s murderers and finishes what he started."


    Barely a heartbeat passed before Charlie slammed her palm on the table and stood up. "I''m in. When do we start?"


    "I... Well, it was just an idea, but I''d say now."


    "I like now," Ren murmured. "Skips the honeymoon phase and just gets right to it."


    "If we''re going to create a group, we''ll need a name," Ferris said.


    "What a-... about a logo?" Zip offered. "Don''t groups need... need logos?"


    "Ooh, good one. Any ideas, Kristin?" Charlie phrased it like an innocent question, but he knew none of them would decide anything without his explicit agreement.


    He thought back to Ashley''s journal. How the edges were worn from Ashley''s continual opening and closing of it as he wrote in it day after day. The golden children etched into the cover, creeping across the ground with their bags of money overflowing with Corvilles. The last line on the last page: The sun is falling, darkness is coming, and then it will all be nyte.


    "NYTE," he whispered, and he knew it was right.


    "NYTE?" Charlie echoed. She repeated it a few times under her breath. "I like it."


    "Does it mean anything? Like how the SFPU stands for the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit." Ferris leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his chin.


    Kristin paused.


    "Ashley said that he didn''t feel safe in his journal, that he couldn''t tell us because he wasn''t supposed to know what he had figured out, so he said he was going to make sure everyone knew."


    "Now You Tell Everyone," Zip said, voice starting off soft but quickly gaining volume. He met Kristin''s gaze as he spoke.


    "Now You Tell Everyone," Kristin agreed with a nod.


    "I like it," Ren said.


    "What about a logo?" Ferris asked.


    Charlie broke the silence that hung over the room for several long moments. "What about an orca?" she asked.


    "Why an orca?" Ferris frowned. Ren turned to their phone.


    "I know they''re not found in Waverwell," Charlie said, "but they''re extremely intelligent and have very tight-knit families. They work together for the collective good, whether hunting or protecting their young, and in the wild some can live a lifespan comparable to a human''s¡ª sixty or seventy years. They teach each other everything and work together flawlessly. Wait, did you know that different pods can have different languages? Like, an orca from one pod and an orca from another pod can literally speak different languages. And," she added with a smile, "they scare sharks."


    "According to a variety of posts on Muse, orcas represent things like family, strength, intelligence, and dedication," Ren said, listing each one off on their fingers.


    "I like an orca for NYTE''s logo," Kristin said. "How about the rest of you?"


    "I like it," Ferris replied.


    "Me too." Zip nodded.


    "Me three." Charlie smiled.


    "Me four, I guess." Ren shrugged.


    "Now You Tell Everyone," Kristin murmured. "The sun is falling, darkness is coming, and then it will all be NYTE. We''re going to pick up where Ashley left off. We''ll get to the bottom of every single thing he started to research. Darkness is coming, but not in the night of day and night; it''s the NYTE that will bring those responsible for Ashley''s murder to the ground. It''s the NYTE that will expose every single thing people have gotten away with that they shouldn''t have.


    "Darkness has fallen, and now it will all be NYTE."

 Prologue - me84

    Prologue


    me84


    Hello Silverlight Forest Protection Unit,


    I am writing this letter to you so I can apologize.


    I know that no apology could ever bring back Ashley Baok. Your brother, Kristin Baok. It wasn''t me who murdered Ashley, but I was there.


    I witnessed Ashley''s murder.


    It was chance, if that''s what you could call it, that I was driving along Myway Highway at that moment in time and heard his scream. I didn''t want to be there, but I couldn''t just drive off.


    I could only sit there and watch in horror as your brother, another human being, was murdered for reasons I do not know. All I know is that there is no reason that could ever justify the murder of another human being. I''m sorry I couldn''t stop it. I wish I could''ve done something, but I was frozen in place. It''s not an excuse, I know, but it''s the truth¡ª I couldn''t move.


    It''s been two weeks.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I can only imagine the pain you are feeling. I have a sister, and I don''t know what I would do if anything were to happen to her. But I was paralyzed once I realized what I was seeing.


    When I was finally able to move and get back to my car, I vowed that I would figure out who Ashley was. I didn''t know who had just been murdered at first, not until I''d started doing research. It wouldn''t bring them back, but perhaps they could rest a little easier, is what I figured. Perhaps it was wishful thinking and me trying to ease my own guilt, but I knew I had to do something and finding out whose murder I had just witnessed felt like the right place to start.


    I thought about giving Ashley some sort of burial, but I knew nothing about him and knew that it would disrupt the crime scene and destroy evidence Precinct officers would use to find who was responsible. I didn''t want to do that.


    Eventually, I got Ashley''s name from my research and that he worked in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit and had a twin brother named Kristin Baok.


    I am not any sort of professional detective or Precinct officer¡ª I work in tech support at Leviathan Inc. and know very little about research, but I felt it was the right thing to do to try to figure out what happened to Ashley and why someone would do something so terrible to him. And so I''m reaching out. There isn''t any pressure to reply if you don''t want to. I can''t imagine how hard of a time you''re going through. And I know I witnessed Ashley''s murder but wasn''t able to do anything to stop it.


    You can reach me at this email. It is my personal email and is linked to my Muse account.


    Sincerely,


    Felix Fisk


    Leviathan Inc. Tech Support


    Email: [email protected]</a>


    Muse: me84

 me84 - Chapter 1 - Charlie Springs - A Lovely Cesspool of Teenaged Organisms

    Chapter 1


    CHARLIE SPRINGS


    Charlie Springs needed something to do.


    Like, right about now.


    Without the usual controlled chaos of running the SFPU ¡ªpredictable unpredictability, as she''d called it¡ª she was beginning to go stir crazy.


    The beginning of NYTE had given her an outlet for her energy, and she had wound up pulling an accidental all-nighter when she had hyper-focused on tracking down as much information as she could on Ashley''s murder, going down rabbit hole after rabbit hole on Muse. Profiles, comment sections, news outlets. Even those whose profiles set off every red flag Charlie knew of for questionable reliability. Anything for a crumb of information. There wasn''t much, and everything she''d found she had already known.


    Not even Waverwell News had anything new for her.


    Only when her laptop warned her of its low battery yet again did Charlie stop. In accusing red writing, it told her it only had one percent left.


    "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, scooping her laptop up from her bed and dropping it onto her desk to jam in the cord. "You need to be charged, I get it."


    She flopped back onto her bed with a sharp exhale, running her hands up her face until her fingers could tug at her hair. The springs in it squeaked until she settled, and a pillow fell to the ground, but she didn''t bother picking it up. She kicked away snarled blue sheets when the lumps dug into her legs. Why should she make her bed when it was just going to get ruined the next time she lay down in it?


    Maybe it''s time for a haircut, Charlie thought as she pulled a few strands down. The ends were almost at her nose.


    There were surely enough videos and how-to articles on Muse, and it would occupy her for a few hours if she pushed it. The only downside was that she hadn''t cut hair before and didn''t have any of the special scissors, and she knew she wouldn''t be able to find someone in Moonfall.


    Larson Hotch had told them all to stay in the camp. They''d be protected there, in his words. Whoever murdered Ashley knew what they were doing, and it was clear they''d have no hesitation about doing it again.


    Charlie hadn''t seen the crime scene, but she had seen Ashley''s body, and that was enough for her. Anyone and everyone responsible even in the slightest was a monster down to their very core.


    We can protect ourselves, she had fought back. I''m sure they''re dangerous, but we''re the SFPU. We might not have the resources like you and everyone at the Precincts do, but we can protect ourselves. We''re the ones who bring you the offenders hunting in Silverlight Forest.


    Larson had offered a sad smile.


    I know you all can protect yourselves. But the criminals you take down in Silverlight Forest are not like the criminals in the cities. Whoever murdered your friend is far worse. Would you rather have that little house spider hiding in the corner of your bathroom come after you or that prowling wolf lurking in the bushes just outside your door? I don''t know who murdered your friend, but whoever they are, they are the worst of the worst. The safest place for you, Charlie Springs, and everyone else in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, is in your camp. Take all the time you need to rest. I cannot imagine how hard the loss of your friend is. If there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate to reach out.


    Charlie had held her tongue despite the bubbling urge to utter some snarky response. In her heart, she knew he was right. The poachers and offenders who went after the wildlife could be dangerous. Very dangerous. But what had happened to Ashley was beyond anything she had seen before. She didn''t need to know everything about Ashley''s murder to know that.


    A low sigh rumbled in Charlie''s throat as she twirled a lock of hair around a finger. She stretched out on her bed, pointing her toes with a groan.


    She just needed something to do. Something that would capture her interest enough to trigger her hyper-focus and she could forget about the pain of losing Ashley.


    Charlie rolled over onto her stomach, pulling a pillow out from beneath the twisted sheets to tuck beneath her chin.


    Feelings were hard. They could bring someone to the top of the world and then drop them until they felt like they had nothing left. Feelings were a double-edged sword. So good, yet also so bad.


    It was easier to just feel nothing. Work, work, work so there was no time for those pesky feelings. Go, go, go, and never slow down.


    Hyper-focus was the perfect fix; Charlie wouldn''t be aware of anything other than what held her attention at that moment in time. The only trouble was that she didn''t know what would trigger it, what would suck her in.


    "Let''s go find something, then," she grumbled, sitting up and running her hands through her hair.


    xxxx


    Ferris was lounging on the couch when Charlie left her room and walked into the kitchen, typing away on his laptop. Charlie crept across the floor and leaned over his shoulder.


    "What''cha workin'' on, Dipper?" she asked. When he didn''t flinch, she frowned, scowling at the back of his head. He never seemed to get startled, much to Charlie''s chagrin.


    "If you want to startle me, I''d recommend not having such heavy steps. Opening your door quieter would help, too." A smile played across Ferris''s face.


    "I''ll have to try that next time." Charlie hopped over the back of the couch and curled up on the cushion next to Ferris. "But, actually, what are you workin'' on?"


    "I''m transcribing the entries from Ashley''s journal so I can print them out and we can write on them and see them all side-by-side. And so we can ensure nothing happens to Ashley''s journal, even accidentally. Kristin would be... I can''t think of words that would describe his anger. And I''d never be able to forgive myself." Ferris reached down by his side and pulled up the journal. A ruler wedged just far enough into the spine to remain lodged in held the pages open.


    She hummed. "Probably a good idea." Charlie knew she would never get over that guilt either; she would have harmed something so important to her friend that couldn''t be replaced. Even if Ashley was still alive, there was no going to the store to buy another journal. It went far beyond that.


    "What have you been doing?" Ferris turned to face Charlie a little more fully.


    The dishwasher hummed, starting the next portion of its cycle. Water sloshed against the dishes, and Charlie stared at the spot on the countertop just above it for several long moments until the novelty of the sound wore off and she could tune it out to give Ferris more attention than the dishwasher, not equal.


    "Not too much." She shrugged. "I might go walk around in the Forest for a bit. I''m getting antsy just being stuck in the camp."


    "Larson Hotch said to stay in here."


    "I know that, Dipper. I''m just tired of being cooped up. I need some sort of normal thing to happen." Charlie groaned, leaning back against the couch and rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palms. "Maybe a supply run. We''re getting low on food, aren''t we?"


    "It''s getting delivered tomorrow morning, courtesy of the Moonfall Precinct. They''re paying, too. I sent them the shopping list a few hours ago, but if you need anything it''s probably not too late."


    Charlie sat up, all but gaping at Ferris, who offered a sympathetic smile. "Really?" She sighed, hunching over to cradle her chin in her hands. "There goes that."


    "Hopefully it won''t be for too much longer, and then we can figure out whatever new normal we will have. We''ll continue piecing together what Ashley was figuring out, and we will follow it wherever it takes us."


    "Yeah, like NYTE was created for."


    Ferris nodded. "Exactly."


    Charlie knew it was true. The normal the SFPU had been in was gone; it died the second Ashley took his last breath. NYTE was a way to honor him. To feel a little closer to him; Ashley had felt that he was onto something important. The least the SFPU could do was continue that.


    NYTE, Charlie thought. Now You Tell Everyone.


    So far, all that had been achieved was reading through the entirety of Ashley''s journal and scouring his room for anything else he might''ve hidden. There was a box buried beneath clothes under Ashley''s bed that held a collection of books, most of which were about mining and Spider Ridge. One was a partial list of everything brought out of the mines in Spider Ridge in the last ten years. Even without the complete list, it was a massive book, one Charlie thought must''ve been one of the heaviest in Waverwell. Maybe not really all that big of an exaggeration. She wondered how Ashley had managed to get his hands on it.


    Zip had taken the book into his room to have his computer sort through the data and see if he could figure out what exactly Ashley was looking for.


    Kristin had taken the rest of the books to his own room to read through.


    Ren had left for the dogs'' house to check on Morpheus and run through some training exercises with Somnus and Pyxis.


    Ferris had settled down on the couch with Ashley''s journal to copy every entry.


    But Charlie had locked herself in her room.


    So much for telling everyone everything when she couldn''t even block out what she was feeling enough to be able to function and honor her murdered friend by continuing his work.


    Charlie sighed, drawing her legs up onto the couch.


    Ferris''s hand over hers snapped her from her thoughts. Her head jerked up. "Wh-what?"


    "You were scratching at your fingers."


    "Oh. Was I?" She looked down, and, sure enough, she saw little crescents of red on her skin not covered by Ferris''s hand.


    Ferris nodded. "Yes, you were."


    "Well, thanks, I guess."


    "You''re welcome."


    Charlie looked down at where Ferris''s hand was still covering both of hers, and a weak smile lifted the corner of her mouth. Despite how hollow she felt, she couldn''t help but say, "Dipper, quick question: Any reason your hand is still here?"


    Ferris flushed scarlet, color creeping up the back of his neck and blanketing his ears. He ripped his hand back like it had been burned. "I-I-. Uh, s-sorry."


    Charlie laughed. "Don''t be. I was just teasing you. You turn bright pink, Dipper. You know that?"


    "Yeah, yeah," he murmured, setting his laptop on the coffee table and Ashley''s journal next to it. His eyes flickered back to Charlie a couple of times as he shifted on the couch, angling his body away from her and bringing his elbow to rest on his knee, chin on his fist.


    Charlie slung an arm over his shoulder as she leaned in close, pressing her side to his. "Dipper, Dipper, Dipper," she said. "I was just teasin''. No need to feel embarrassed or somethin''. It''s cool for me to touch you, right? Don''t wanna be invading your personal space and all that if you''re not cool with it."


    "I... uh, it''s-. It''s fine."


    "Ok, cool." Charlie took a breath. "You know that I always say something if I''m at all uncomfortable, right?"


    "Yeah." Ferris nodded, glancing back. He fiddled with his fingers. "Never give an inch, in your words."


    "Exactly. Give an inch, and they''ll take a mile. Speak up before they speak for you. Decide what you want so they can''t make the choice on your behalf." Charlie paused for a moment before continuing. "Since you know that, I''m sure you can figure out that you touching me didn''t make me uncomfortable."


    "I know," Ferris started. "I... I, well. It was kinda..."


    "Kinda intimate?" Charlie finished for him, rising up so she was crouching on her knees.


    Ferris flushed again, and he cleared his throat loudly. Charlie wanted to poke his cheek and feel what she guessed would be burning heat coming from his skin, but she resisted; he was already shifting in place, and she didn''t want to push it too far.


    "Y-yeah," he ground out, wringing his fingers.


    "I''m a pretty touchy feely person, Ferris," Charlie said, leaning forward to look him in the eye, voice devoid of any lightheartedness. Ferris looked away, but she placed her hand on his cheek to make him meet her gaze. "And if I ever don''t want someone touching me, I will make sure they know. You don''t need to worry about making me uncomfortable, because I will always let you know. I won''t let someone get an inch on me. Alright?"


    Ferris searched her eyes, and she stared back. "Ok," he said, seeming to have found whatever it was that he was looking for. "Alright, Charlie."


    "Alright," she echoed, dropping back onto the couch. "Glad we got that figured out."


    Ferris hummed in reply, and he returned to his laptop, lifting it from the coffee table as he settled back against the couch and putting Ashley''s journal next to him, ruler still securely wedged in the spine.


    Charlie pulled her legs to her chest, chin on her knees. She stared at the front door to the house. It loomed in front of her, simultaneously so innocent and so menacing. How could something so simple, just a slab of wood, convey such emotion? Come across in such a threatening way?


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    She wondered if the last time Ashley walked through it he had any sense that he would never do so again.


    She looked out the window, gaze carefully averted from the door.


    She didn''t want to know if Ashley knew.


    xxxx


    They were silent for several long minutes, and the quiet clung to them and every surface in a heavy but tolerable way. Noticeable but bearable, not too much.


    "I miss him too, you know," Ferris murmured. He didn''t lift his eyes from his computer screen.


    Charlie turned her head to look at him before dropping her gaze to her hands. "I know you do." She couldn''t help the bite her words had, and she instantly regretted it. She dug her nails into her palms.


    "I know that, too."


    "How the hell are you so calm right now?" Charlie grabbed a pillow as something inside her bubbled up and overflowed. She gripped it and hugged it to her stomach, squeezing as hard as she could. But that wasn''t enough. It couldn''t take the edge off of whatever was boiling in her gut. Some baying demon frothing at the mouth. She thrust the pillow into her lap, pummeling it with her fists. The fabric was soft against her skin, and it gave her no resistance. No friction. No bite. No sting of flesh against knotted string, sequins, buttons. Nothing to take the edge off of the demon in her gut. Nothing to quell the hurricane tearing through her insides.


    She punched the pillow harder, gritting her teeth with a sharp hiss.


    It wasn''t enough.


    She didn''t hear Ferris closing his laptop and setting it on the coffee table, followed by Ashley''s journal.


    "Charlie," he murmured when she hunched over the pillow, "talk to me, please. What can I do? What would you like? Advice, space, or a listening ear?"


    "I don''t know," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her head to grasp at her knees. Her breaths were sharp pants.


    "No, don''t hurt yourself," Ferris said, gently prying her fingers from her skin before bringing his hands back to his lap.


    "How the hell are you this calm?" Charlie asked again, voice muffled by the pillow''s fabric.


    Ferris didn''t reply, and he was quiet long enough for Charlie to look up, concerned that she may have overstepped.


    An apology for something she wasn''t entirely sure what was on her tongue when Ferris spoke. "How much do you know of my past?" His voice was careful, each syllable measured.


    Charlie shrugged. "Not much. Only what you''ve said. Never bothered lookin'' into your guys''s pasts cuz I figured you''d tell me if you wanted me to know. Trust you guys to give me the same."


    "That''s not what I was getting at, and I think you know that."


    Charlie gave an intentional sheepish smile. "Guilty as charged."


    Ferris huffed a chuckle, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. He stared out the window, a distant look falling over his face.


    "I lost my parents a little over a year ago," he said, not moving his eyes from whatever he was focusing on, if anything.


    Charlie froze. "God. I''m so sorry." She wasn''t sure the words held any real weight, but she didn''t know what else she could say. No amount of I''m sorry''s would ever lessen that pain.


    "They died in a car crash. Another driver lost control and hit them. My parents were killed on impact, but the driver of the other car walked away. It was a complete accident. Every law was followed, the driver wasn''t under the influence and neither were my parents. Everyone was in their own lane until the driver hit a puddle wrong and spun out of control. Freak accident, as it was called. They didn''t suffer, but I don''t know how much mercy that really offered. The end result was the same: dead."


    "I''m so sorry," Charlie repeated. "I''m sure they were wonderful people."


    Ferris nodded, running a hand through his hair with a sharp exhale. He glanced back for a brief second. "Yeah, Springs, yeah they were. Their names were Toby and Tony. Toby and Tony Dipper. Best parents I could''ve asked for."


    "You have any favorite memories? I don''t really know what to say, but I''m sure they were great parents. No pressure to share if you don''t want to. I''m not gonna force you to do anything you don''t want to."


    Ferris hummed. "I know you won''t." He took a breath. "Well, there are a bunch. One that comes to mind is from when I was little. How long ago? Well... Yeah, it was many years ago. I was, maybe, five or six. Not toddler, but still very little."


    Charlie didn''t break Ferris''s silence. She just sat and listened, afraid that if she said anything it would break whatever moment they were in.


    "My parents both worked full time. They were machine operators in Cloverleaf and helped process everything that was brought out of the mines in Spider Ridge. Coal, iron, that type of thing. I never really knew the details because I was young and they didn''t tell me everything, but it was hard work. But they always found time for me. I knew they were tired and the hours could be long, but they always had the biggest smiles and always spent time with me, no matter how exhausted they were. And every weekend we''d do something together. Sometimes it was small, just a picnic at a park. Sometimes, when they had the money, it was bigger. A trip to the museum, the zoo. One time we rode Waverwell Trainline all the way to Corville, spent the day walking around, and then rode it all the way back. I sat with my face pressed as far into the window, just staring at the scenery as the train passed it by.


    "But the best weekend was one we spent at home. I was really into fairies at the time. My six-year-old brain didn''t like the twinkly little creatures with butterfly wings and wands, it wanted the warriors lurking in the forests with their wily ways and snake tongues, casting trickster magic spells. I''d found a book in the library about supernatural creatures, and I devoured it. Faster than Ashley probably ever read, if that''s even possible. But the page on fairies stuck with me. Gave fun facts like fairies have wings, they can cast magic spells, they''re afraid of iron and whatnot, but it also said that not all were those twinkly grain-of-rice-sized pretty fairies¡ª some were those warriors I was so drawn to.


    "I talked about fairies all the time, and my parents knew I loved them. So, one weekend, they decided we were going to stay home. It was a surprise, what we were going to do." Ferris huffed a laugh, sucking on his teeth with a distant smile before continuing. "See, my parents would tell me what the plans were going to be. A sort of incentive, I guess. Get your schoolwork and chores done so we can have more time together on the weekend type thing. But they didn''t mention anything about that weekend, no matter how much I pestered them. It''s a surprise, was all they would say. I got my homework done that Friday in record time. Don''t think I ever came close to getting it done that fast ever again.


    "And then, that Saturday morning, my parents pulled out this big box of supplies they''d been collecting. Said we were going to turn the house into a fairy kingdom. I became King Ferris of Dipperlandia. My parents were the head warriors and defenders of Dipperlandia. Our dog, Tory, became my trusty steed. We created costumes. Turned old pieces of fabric and a random assortment of frills, buttons, and scraps into fairy clothing and armor. We stretched thin silks across rigid wire for wings. I stabbed my thumb on a needle while sewing together my chest plate and left a massive bloodstain on it." Ferris chuckled, rubbing where Charlie guessed the wound had been. "My parents thought I''d ruined the costume, although they were, of course, far more worried about me and if I was ok. I just laughed it off and said that a true king would''ve proven himself in battle to show he was worthy of leading his country and knew the true cost of war, however necessary it might''ve been said to be.


    "It was the best weekend I could''ve asked for. We decorated the house to make our Dipperlandia with fallen branches, pinecones, scrap rocks from the mines. We went on missions. Chased out imaginary foes. Drew symbols in the carpet to cast magical spells. It was little kid me''s dream. It''s one of the best memories I have of my parents. Tory, too. She was an old dog Toby found on the streets, and he brought her home. It was supposed to just be for a few days while we tried to find her owner, and then, if we didn''t, a shelter. We didn''t really have the money for a dog, but Toby couldn''t find a shelter he felt would offer her the right care she needed and he knew older dogs were less likely to get adopted than younger ones, so we made it work. Toby couldn''t just let someone else struggle. If there was anything he could do, he would do it. My parents got into a bunch of fights over Toby''s willingness to give.


    "In Tony''s words, helping was great. He explained as much to me¡ª help when you can, even if it''s just a little. But he also stressed the need for balance; take time for yourself. You can''t pour from an empty cup. Don''t let the help you offer negatively impact yourself. Don''t let donating cash keep you from paying bills. Don''t let donating clothes and supplies keep you from staying warm and having enough for your own needs.


    "They gave me a lot of life lessons. They kept them fun, too. Felt learning would stick more if it was fun." Ferris chuckled. "They weren''t wrong. I barely remember my classes at whatever Cloverleaf school I went to. Don''t even remember the name. But I remember so many of their lessons. Small ones about tying shoes or brushing hair. Shaving your face when I started to grow what Toby affectionately called that little hairy caterpillar you call a mustache. And bigger ones about sharing, being kind, not judging anyone for things they cannot control. And also how to drive a car. Tony taught me to drive. His first lesson was to always find the brake pedal, because, in his words, that''s the Do-Not-Hit-Anyone Button. Know where that is and keep it working just fine, and you won''t hit anyone.


    "That lesson hurt more when I lost them. It made me laugh at the time, which I think was his goal because I was so nervous. Never thought I''d lose them like that. But I also didn''t have a way I thought I''d lose them in. Guess no one ever really thinks of how their loved one will die. No one ever wants to say goodbye. No one really even knows how."


    "No one ever does," Charlie murmured. How can someone say goodbye to a loved one, a friend, someone they cared about? She didn''t want to let go of Ashley. The world felt so empty. He was one of her closest friends, and she couldn''t imagine the rest of her life without his massive smiles and the way his face twisted as he tried to hold back his crowing laughter when he pulled yet another one of his pranks on her. How he would double over, holding onto his stomach with both arms as he cried streams of tears. How things just felt like they would be ok when he slung an arm over her shoulders and pulled her in for a side hug. How his shoes seemed to sprout wings when he bolted for the ball in Ultimate Ballgame and how the front of his shirt would be streaked with green and brown from skidding across the grass because he just couldn''t let his team lose.


    "I... I''m sorry. I just talked a whole lot." Ferris sighed.


    "Hey," Charlie said. "I''m, like, the last person who''s gonna comment on talking a lot or a little. Have you heard me when I get into a conversation." Ferris hummed, nodding his head with a smile. "Yeah, I thought so. Not gonna get any judgement from me, Dipper. Besides, seems like you kinda needed someone to listen, and I''m happy to do that."


    Ferris bumped his shoulder into hers, and she leaned into the touch. "Thanks, Springs."


    "You''re welcome. Your parents sound like they were wonderful people. They raised you right."


    "They really did." Ferris ducked his head, running his palms over the back of his neck. He kept contact with Charlie, and she pressed into it. After the stress of the weeks after Ashley''s murder, the comfort of touch felt amazing. Something to keep her from getting so caught up in the feelings that threatened to arise that she couldn''t tell up from down.


    "How else could you be such a gentleman?" Charlie teased. True to her prediction, Ferris flushed scarlet and he jerked his head away, clearing his throat loudly as he choked on a breath.


    "I-I..." he started but was unable to finish his sentence.


    "It''s true, you know. You''re far better than some of the sleazy creatures they call boys that went to the school my parents enrolled me in as a kid. A lovely cesspool of teenaged organisms in the middle of Corville filled with a bunch of stuck-up, snobby, entitled brats who think that just cuz their parents bought them the latest fancy car and the newest phone and filled their closest with designer brands that they could get whatever they wanted. Some of those boys, Dipper? They were creeps. Dirtbags. Caught them lurking outside the girl''s bathroom more times than I''d care to count. Knelt down by the lockers for far longer than it would take a fingerless monkey to figure out how to tie a shoe in hopes of catching a glimpse up a girl''s skirt. Damn dress code required skirts. Not that I ever listened, of course. Pants are the way to go. They never tried anything on me, though. Probably because they knew I''d break their arm the second they did. But they were really rather gross. Never could figure out how their clothes managed to stay so pristine with their slimy personalities. Made me want to vomit, and I basically have an iron stomach. You''re actually kinda like a gentleman. Just, minus the horse drawn carriage and posh lifestyle."


    Ferris laughed. "No horse drawn carriages for me. But I''m sure you would''ve broken their arm the second their fingertips got anywhere near you."


    "Hell yeah, I would''ve. I didn''t want any of their skin cells on me. I might''ve caught something. Ew." Charlie grimaced, though a smile tugged at her lips. "So glad I graduated. Didn''t want to spend another second in that godforsaken place. Glad I finally got up the nerve to leave Corville. Had a bag packed for months under my bed. Just had to actually leave."


    Ferris was quiet for a time. He stared out the window with a thoughtful expression, so still he looked frozen. "What did your parents think of you leaving?" he finally asked.


    Charlie scoffed. She could picture how that conversation would go, and she would''ve rather eaten live scorpions than sit down for that. "Never asked," she said. "Just left. Pretty sure they were absolutely pissed cuz I got like a dozen letters a few days later."


    "They''re alive?"


    "As far as I know. But they''re not really alive to me and I''ve never bothered to check. No offense to you."


    "None taken. Not everyone has a good relationship with their parents, unfortunately."


    "Not a good relationship is about the understatement of the century. If asked, my parents would probably say we had a wee tad of a disagreement or something, but it''s far, far, far beyond that. It was coming for years, if I''m being honest. Years of arguments, snarky comments, petty behavior, backhanded compliments.


    "I left the house during the night without telling them anything. In hindsight, I probably should''ve said something, but I was angry and didn''t feel they needed to know. Didn''t feel they deserved it. I just wanted to get out of there."


    Charlie sighed.


    She remembered the day like it was yesterday.


    After yet another massive fight, she was exhausted and past furious.


    It had been building up for the past week. Little nit-picky comments from her mother. How she was dressed so casually in pants and a T-shirt, how she was acting like a spoiled child, how she wasn''t sitting like a proper young woman, how she wasn''t behaving like a good little girl at school. Charlie, in all her bubbling frustration, hadn''t helped; she had given snarky retorts right back, going blow for blow with her mother until they had reached a breaking point and exploded. Her father taking her mother''s side had only added to the broiling anger churning in Charlie''s gut and the yawning void of the betrayal she felt. After a screaming match and Charlie shattering a lamp as she tried to get her parents to see what she knew to be the truth, she had stormed off into her room, slamming the door shut hard enough that, looking back, she was surprised it hadn''t fallen right off its hinges.


    In the middle of the night, she had climbed out her window with her backpack of a change of clothes and notebook and run off into the night, stealing cash from the drawer in her parents'' kitchen to buy a train ticket to Moonfall ¡ªfar away from Corville¡ª and hold her over until she could find a job.


    "I don''t know how much you heard of my interview with the Moonfall Precinct, but my legal name isn''t Charlie Springs." She cast a glance over at Ferris to gauge his reaction, but his face was still, expression impassive, like it had been carved from stone.


    He hummed in reply, and Charlie took it as her cue to continue.


    "My parents named me Rose Hendricks." She swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat, but she couldn''t help the involuntary squirm when she said the name out loud. Her face twisted. "Once I got my head out of the sand and figured out that I didn''t have to be their perfect little Rose, I knew I hated it. The name wasn''t mine. Wasn''t me. You''ll never catch me in a dress again. Never see me sitting quietly like an attractive little lamp. Never see me offer a pretty smile I don''t want to give. I''m not gonna be that stereotypical housewife who runs the home and raises a family of perfect little kids while the husband does all the work. Narrow view that completely overlooks what a woman can do. They couldn''t accept that I didn''t want that life. I mean, how could they if they couldn''t even accept that I didn''t want to wear dresses and heels? Can you imagine me in heels? I''d break an ankle, and I like mine intact, please and thank you."


    Ferris smiled. "No, I can''t imagine you in a dress and heels. Kristin? Yeah, I could see him in a dress, maybe heels. You? No. More of a suit and tie type of person?" He turned his head to meet her gaze.


    Charlie pursed her lips. "You know... I never actually wore any fancy clothes apart from the times my parents managed to stuff me in one of their frilly monstrosities they called a dress. Don''t really see the point, if I''m being honest. Shorts and a T-shirt will work for almost any occasion, so why spend the extra money on something you''ll wear, like, three times max at the risk of it getting stained and having to fork over another boatload of cash just to get it clean again? But I suppose I''d just go for a button down and slacks. Shirt-and-pants evolved edition."


    "Always were one for practicality."


    "Why waste money on something that you''re not going to use? Using it once doesn''t count. Gotta use it a bunch to get its money''s worth. I worked hard for those Corvilles. Wanna spend them on something that I''ll actually use. Fancy clothes aren''t gonna cut it¡ª no way I''m gonna wear them when hunting down poachers. Can you imagine running through the Forest in a ballgown? Like, those ones that have that really long train. Imagine stilettos, too. Gonna snap your ankle clean in half." Charlie made a slashing motion with her hand at her foot.


    Ferris rolled his eyes. "Yeah, no way."


    Charlie opened her mouth to reply. Give another joking, sarcastic response that would force the roaring hurricane of feelings to subside. Lay low for just a little bit. Numb the pain enough that she felt she might be ok.


    But she never did.


    Kristin barged out of his room, swinging open his door hard enough that it slammed into the wall. His footsteps were heavy against the floorboards.


    Charlie and Ferris whirled around in unison, and Kristin was nearly sprinting to them. He thrust his laptop into Ferris''s arms with trembling hands, and Ferris fumbled with it until it was settled in his lap.


    "What am I looking at?" Ferris flipped open the lid. The screen was blank.


    Kristin leaned over the back of the couch and reached over to the keyboard. His fingers were shaking so much that he had to type in his password several times before his laptop unlocked.


    Charlie wondered when the last time he slept was. She didn''t echo her thought out loud.


    "Read it!"


    Charlie leaned over Ferris''s shoulder. "What is it?"


    "It''s an email." Kristin''s voice was high. Like a thread pulled taut, only mere millimeters from being tugged hard enough to snap. Stress was almost visibly dripping from his words.


    "I see that," murmured Ferris, craning his head down as he peered at the screen.


    Charlie glanced up at Kristin. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide. It was like he''d seen a ghost.


    "Read it! Read the email. Someone said they saw Ashley''s murder."

 me84 - Chapter 2 - Cynthia Corville - The Trinity

    Chapter 2


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    "What do you mean the disease has now been confirmed to have spread beyond Corville and Dal?"


    Of course, Cynthia already knew what it meant; the disease was becoming a pandemic. But she needed to hear it from someone else. In this case, the intern Seven Valentine, who had been tasked with delivering an envelope of compiled documents of research from doctors across Waverwell.


    She stopped pacing and stood behind her desk chair, bracing her palms on its back.


    Seven tensed, rocking on his feet. He cleared his throat before responding, "I... well, uh. Th-the doctors have said positive tests have come back from the Underdown and Cat''s Cradle. They are, uh, guessing it won''t be long until... until the disease has spread into the rest of Waverwell." Seven''s mouth twisted into a sad smile.


    "Have there been any confirmed deaths?" Cynthia pushed her chair out of the way and reached for the envelope. She opened it and flipped through the documents, skimming each one. She''d analyze every word later, but a cursory read would give her the big details for now.


    "I... I don''t know." Seven ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "I, uh, don''t know all the details and, like, ninety-five percent of what I know is what''s on the news and stuff. What the average citizen has access to, you know. Sounds like-like s-some people are really, really sick, but I-I don''t know if anyone has died from the disease."


    Cynthia hummed. "I know, I know," she sighed. "I''m just... thinking out loud, I suppose. All of the still-unknowns about this disease are making it far more difficult to figure out what the right course of action is."


    "I would bet that does. Sounds pretty tough, your job."


    "Sometimes it is quite tough and hard decisions need to be made," Cynthia said, "and other times it is... very fulfilling and I find myself unable to imagine doing any other job."


    "Yeah, yeah," murmured Seven, ducking his head as he worried his lip. "I can get that."


    They were both silent for several long moments, and just before Cynthia could speak up and ask if he needed anything else, Seven snapped his gaze up.


    "Oh!" he exclaimed. "One more thing: Harold said he, Delta, Linda, and Gabriella were all coming to your office in, like, half an hour." Seven looked at his watch. "Nope, scratch that. Like, ten to fifteen minutes, give or take ''cuz they might be running a bit early or late."


    Cynthia gave a slow nod. It wasn''t unlike Harold to arrange a meeting without conferring with everyone that would be involved and give such a short notice, especially when he had an agenda he wanted moved forward. All that was required by Waverwell law was a sufficient notice beforehand, which could be interpreted at will and didn''t give a time frame on what sufficient meant. Cynthia felt at least twenty-four hours was good, with the exception for emergency situations, but Harold, it seemed, felt thirty minutes at the time of informing Seven fit the requirement of sufficient notice.


    "I see," she replied. "Did he give any indication as to what this meeting will be about?"


    Another requirement in regards to meetings between Waverwell government officials, but it could be fulfilled in the vaguest of terms.


    Seven shrugged. "Not really. I mean, he said it was important and that you shouldn''t miss it."


    Important technically fulfilled the requirement, even though it gave next to no information.


    "Thank you, Seven. I''m assuming the meeting is taking place in here?"


    "No," he said after taking a sharp breath. "It''s taking place down the hall... the, uh, second meeting room?"


    "The second one, as in the biggest one on this floor?"


    Seven nodded. "Yeah, that one."


    "Alright, thank you. I will head there momentarily." The you may leave now was unspoken, but Seven seemed to understand the message.


    "You''re welcome, Mrs. Pre- uh, s-sorry! Cynthia. Have a nice meeting."


    "Thank you. Please, let me get the door for you." She walked out from behind her desk, crossing the President''s Room and walking across the plush, circular carpet centered in the middle.


    Seven sputtered a hesitant no, let me get the door for you and reached for the handle, but he gave an appreciative thanks when Cynthia got to it first, holding the door open for him.


    "I would''ve gotten it for you. You''re the President."


    Cynthia smiled. "I know. But just because I''m the President doesn''t mean I''m not a person. I don''t mind getting the door for someone."


    Seven opened his mouth, as if to disagree, but all he said was, "I guess. I hope your meeting goes well."


    Cynthia bid him farewell, and they each went in opposite directions, Seven heading for the grand staircase to the next level down and Cynthia making her way toward the meeting rooms.


    xxxx


    The meeting room was relatively simple in its design: a rectangular room and two windows offering a view of Corville''s sprawl. But it was elegantly furnished. A large table sat in the middle, and its golden legs were carved with intricate designs that ended in little paws at the ends. Plush chairs were tucked neatly beneath the marble tabletop, seats stuffed until they looked as though they were about to pop. Several paintings hung in elaborate frames, done by artists from all around Waverwell.


    Delta, Linda, and Harold were already in the room. Dressed in a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Delta lounged in one of the chairs, tapping away on his phone. Cynthia narrowed her eyes when she saw him hold out his arm and make a face for a selfie, but she held her tongue. There were more pressing matters.


    Harold wore a green, plaid suit. Cynthia briefly wondered who made his outfit choices but didn''t voice the thought. It fit better than the buff suit from a few weeks prior did and didn''t make his skin look yellow, but it still gave him a sickly appearance. Harold offered a welcoming nod when Cynthia walked in the room, looking up from an array of papers arranged in front of him on the table.


    Linda got up from where she sat at the head of the table furthest from the door. Her heels clicked on the floor, and her tight-fitting blazer shifted with every step. She looked like she was walking down a runway. "Welcome, Cynthia," she said, offering her hand.


    Cynthia took it and gave it a firm shake. "Thank you, Linda. I''m glad to be here."


    "Please, have a seat." Harold gestured to the chair at the head of the table closest to the door. "Shall we get started?"


    Cynthia sat down, setting the documents and notebooks she had brought on the table. Linda returned to her seat.


    "Gabby''s not here," Delta murmured, squinting at whatever was on his phone screen. "Dunno where she is."


    "It''s Gabriella, not Gabby, Delta. She has told you that many times," Cynthia said.


    "Huh?" Delta looked up at her.


    "Gabriella does not like being called Gabby, which she has told you many, many times."


    "Gabby''s cute."


    "It does not matter if you think Gabby is cute. Gabriella doesn''t like the nickname, and Gabriella wants to go by just Gabriella. Respect her wishes, Delta. It''s not that hard."


    "But-."


    Cynthia fixed him with a stern look and held up a finger. He fell silent. "We''re not going to have this conversation right now, Delta. There is no debate here. It''s simply a matter of being a decent human being and giving a baseline level of respect." Cynthia turned her attention to the rest of the table, where Harold and Linda had been looking on quietly. "Now, does anyone know where Gabriella is?"


    "I saw her earlier this morning, but that was a few hours ago." Linda shrugged, twirling a pen around in her fingers. Sunlight streamed through the windows, reflecting off the metal surface of her pen.


    Before Harold could reply, the door to the meeting room opened.


    "Apologies," Gabriella huffed. Cynthia turned around to greet her. Gabriella''s cheeks were tinged with red, and she placed a neatly manicured hand to her chest as she took a deep breath. "I had to rush over here from a different meeting that finished later than expected. But I am here now, and I hope I didn''t hold you all up for too long."


    Gabriella sat down in the chair next to Cynthia, across from Harold, and ran her hands down her thighs to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress. The layers of silk on the skirt whispered across each other.


    "No worries," Harold said. "Let''s get started."


    "Linda, will you be taking the notes for today''s meeting?" Cynthia asked.


    "Yes," she replied.


    "Thank you." Cynthia gave Linda a moment to ready her pad of paper and pen. "Today''s meeting has been arranged by Harold Morris. In attendance are myself, Cynthia Corville, Harold Morris, Gabriella Torres, Delta Bass, and Linda Machowski, who is taking notes."


    Cynthia gave Harold a nod, silently telling him to begin.


    "Alright. I called for this meeting so we can discuss the disease. I''m sure you all are well aware of it. It does not seem we''re yet at the point where we know enough about it to have more answers than questions, but I do know that we should do something about it. It will not look good for Waverwell government if we just sit back and relax as this disease, whatever the doctors decide to name it, infects the citizens." Harold jabbed his pointer finger into the table as he spoke.


    "I agree," Cynthia said, keeping her voice calm. "What are your thoughts on what should happen?"


    She wished there had been more time between when Seven dropped off the documents about the disease and this meeting; there hadn''t been enough time for her to read them all, and so she was going into the meeting not knowing everything.


    "Well, I know Dal is considering shutting the city down and enforcing a quarantine."


    Cynthia nodded. She had heard that and had agreed with it. With so little known about the disease, keeping people away from each other as much as possible was a relatively simple thing to do to help keep citizens from getting infected: if people weren''t near each other, they couldn''t spread the disease as easily. Although, from her brief look at Muse, many weren''t happy about it.


    Linda perked up, lifting her gaze from her notepad. "Oh, I believe that order just got made. It goes into effect tomorrow morning, I believe."


    "Really?" Delta frowned, dropping his cheek to his fist. "I was gonna go visit there. Do some shopping at the Valleyfield Market. There''s this one booth that sells these shirts. I''ve got no clue how they''re made, but they''re the comfiest shirts I''ve ever found. Fashionable, too. I wear them literally all the time. Funnily enough, though, not today." Delta chuckled, plucking at his shirt.


    "Online shopping''s a thing, Delta," Linda murmured as she returned her attention to her notes. "You can find just about anything there and have it delivered straight to you. No need to leave your home."


    "Not the same."


    "No breaking stay-at-home orders," Linda countered.


    Delta grumbled but didn''t reply.


    "I''m sure you can find an equally great shirt elsewhere, Delta. You can also wait until it is safe to return to the Valleyfield Market, whenever that may be," Gabriella said.


    "So," Harold butted in, finishing the conversation Delta had started, "I disagree with lockdowns and stay-at-home orders. People need to be out in the world."


    Gabriella rolled her eyes, sighing as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Light from the window glittered on her necklace of intricately placed gems strung together in a network that mimicked a spider''s web. "And what makes you say that, Harold?"


    "People need to work. Companies need their employees."


    "Money needs to be made?"


    "Yes! Exactly!" Cynthia was surprised Harold didn''t leap out of his chair and start dancing. "That''s exactly what I mean. Waverwell will cease to be the Waverwell we know if people cannot continue going to their jobs."


    "Waverwell will cease to be the Waverwell we know if everyone gets sick. And then we have a similar issue in that no one can go to work because they''re all sick." Gabriella''s expression was flat, but her tone was cross.


    "There haven''t been any reported deaths, and people can work when they''re sick."


    Cynthia flinched. "There''s a big difference between can and should, Harold. Just because you''re capable of being upright and moving doesn''t mean you should be upright and moving. When you''re sick, you should be resting. And the disease is still very new. There may be deaths caused by the disease we are not yet aware of, and there may be deaths in the future, although I hope with all my heart that is not the case."


    Harold narrowed his eyes, mulling over his next words. "Yes, sure. In some instances people should be staying home as opposed to going to work, but when it''s just a little sniffle that doesn''t always require taking time off of work."


    Linda stared at Harold, placing her pen down next to her notebook. "Since you''re against lockdowns, Harold, what do you propose instead?"


    "I think we should be continuing on as we have¡ª people going to their jobs, everyone helping to keep the economy running. The economy is what I ran for and I said I would do my part to keep it thriving, and I do not wish to stray from my promise to Waverwell. This disease is terrible ¡ªno one can truthfully say otherwise¡ª but it does not need to be the reason our country falls apart.


    "However, those who are very sick should stay home or go to a hospital to receive treatment, just like they would any other ailment. Besides, this disease hasn''t caused any deaths."


    Cynthia couldn''t help the snort that she gave. "Causing deaths is an awfully low bar. Just because you don''t die doesn''t mean it''s not serious, Harold. This disease is so new to us, and we currently know so little. There may already be deaths caused by it that just haven''t been confirmed to be from the disease yet. The disease may also cause lasting effects, even after you''ve recovered from it."


    "That doesn''t mean lockdowns are necessary, Cynthia."


    "Do you have a medical degree, Harold?" Gabriella asked, lips twisting into a disapproving frown. The question was rhetorical¡ª everyone already knew the answer.


    "I do not."


    "Then why are you trying to decide what should or shouldn''t be done in regard to the disease? Having your opinions is one thing, but saying something isn''t necessary when you are not an expert in that subject is, quite frankly, na?ve."


    When Delta choked on a huff, Gabriella turned her attention to him, raising an eyebrow. Cynthia had seen the look Gabriella gave Delta before. It was a dark expression, unamused. Saved for the moments she was furious on the inside but wasn''t going to lash out. Saved for when she would remain stern but civil. Stand beside what she believed in but not become who she was working to stop.


    "Do you have something to say?" Gabriella asked.


    "Isn''t being nice, like, your thing?"


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "My thing, as you say, is treating people with the respect they inherently deserve."


    "Yeah, so being nice."


    Gabriella narrowed her eyes. "Is it safe to assume that your statement regarding what I stand for in Waverwell government relates to this discussion we are all having here and how I have been, according to you, not nice?"


    "Yeah." Delta nodded.


    When Cynthia opened her mouth to tell Delta to either be quiet or leave, Gabriella shot her a glance, silently telling her that she had it under control.


    "I am under no obligation to ensure everyone likes me. In fact, I do not want everyone to like me. If everyone likes me, I am doing something wrong. There is no world in which everyone is liked by everyone. If me standing my ground makes you upset, that''s a you problem. And if me stating my opinion and disagreeing with someone bothers you, that''s also a you problem. Being nice does not mean rolling over onto your back and taking what everyone says at face value without hesitation."


    "I never said that," Delta protested, huffing a breath and shaking his head. He curled his lip and looked away with an expression that reminded Cynthia of a petulant child.


    "Words can have an impact beyond what you might have meant," was all Gabriella murmured in reply before turning her attention to Cynthia. "Shall we continue?"


    Cynthia nodded. "Sure."


    "I still don''t see how a lockdown will help. There haven''t been any deaths, and people will still get sick regardless of whether they''re at home or at work," Harold said. "In my opinion, we shouldn''t follow what Dal has done and put into place a lockdown, either of just Corville or the entirety of Waverwell."


    Cynthia watched as Gabriella took a deep breath, visibly calming herself down. "Harold," she said, voice a sickly sweet that dripped with venom, "you are, technically, correct in that people will get sick regardless of a lockdown, but fewer people will get sick with a lockdown¡ª it''s a lot harder to spread something if people aren''t interacting so much."


    "I''m not quite sure what it would look like since the idea just crossed my mind, but what if we were to somehow assist companies and businesses in making many jobs able to be done from home. Obviously that cannot be done with all jobs, but many, at least."


    "I feel like we need to get back on track," Harold said.


    "I agree." Gabriella chuckled, rolling her eyes.


    "Linda, can you please read back to us what you have so far?" Harold asked.


    Linda took a moment to skim through her notes, flipping between the pages. The rustling of her notebook was the only sound in the room, save for the low drone of cars passing by in the streets below the Waverwell government building.


    "Alright, so Dal is implementing a lockdown that starts tomorrow. Gabriella is in favor of a lockdown, either in Corville or in all of Waverwell, as is Cynthia. Harold, you disagree and think we should keep things how they are. Delta, you have not given much of an opinion. So far, we haven''t come to much of an agreement."


    "So basically nothing?" Delta asked.


    Linda nodded. "Yes."


    "So we need a compromise, then, it seems."


    Harold chewed on his lip for a few moments. "I''d be willing to work out a compromise."


    Gabriella met his gaze and held it. "I think we can work something out."


    "I think we can as well," Cynthia said.


    Something would get figured out.


    The looming possibility of deaths from the disease hung over her head, weighing on her shoulders like a heavy blanket. And who knew if there had already been deaths? How many would get infected, how many would wind up with lasting health problems, how many might lose their lives before the disease could be fully understood?


    The doctors and scientists knew the disease, and they studied it relentlessly. More was learned each day. More was understood, more was known, more was discovered. They were the ones who would know exactly how to treat the disease, how to prevent it from spreading, how to minimize the risk of getting seriously ill if infected.


    There weren''t many guidelines that had been shared yet¡ª too little was known to give any specific advice on how to help on a national or city level. But the doctors had agreed with Dal''s lockdown, and they had said they recommended it. People distancing themselves made it harder for the disease to spread. Until more was understood about the disease and more specific guidance could be given, stay-at-home orders would help slow the spread of the disease.


    Cynthia knew she had the Presidential power to make a decision and enforce it upon all cities in Waverwell, but she also knew it had to be at the right time, if it came to that. She would get pushback no matter when she did it, but it could be minimized and have the greatest impact when done in the right way.


    "Dal''s lockdown starts tomorrow, right?" Delta asked.


    "Yes." Cynthia nodded. Her brain twisted, trying to figure out where Delta''s train of thought was headed.


    "Let''s just wait and see how that goes. We can make a decision later based on how well it worked. Maybe... like a month or something."


    "No, absolutely not." Gabriella shook her head, sending a thinly veiled glare Delta''s way. "We''re not that far behind Dal in confirmed cases, and there are, undoubtedly, many more unconfirmed cases. I''m not going to allow us to sit around and let more people get sick with a disease we can hardly claim to know even a percent about! We might not have enough knowledge to do much right now, but we are going to do something right now."


    "I''d be willing to wait a month," Harold murmured, rubbing his fingers together in thought. "We can see how things are, and then make a decision based on those facts."


    "What about two weeks?" Linda offered. "Gabriella wants to do something now, and Delta and Harold want to wait a month. We could split the difference."


    "I will never agree to that," Gabriella said, voice an icy blade. "We hardly have any capacity to test even a fraction of enough people to give us an accurate idea of how many are infected, much less have any sort of way to properly treat those who are sick. How can we hope to do either of those if we do not understand the very thing we are trying to stop?" Light flashed in Gabriella''s eyes, and Cynthia knew the last of her nerves were dangerously close to getting far too treaded on. "How can we hope to put an end to this disease if those in the highest levels of power are unwilling to do their part?"


    Harold gave the beginnings of a scowl, but his expression never went any further. "I never said I was unwilling to act, Gabriella. I just want to ensure that any action I take is warranted and is taken at the correct moment in time. I will not apologize for wanting to make sure I am not wasting any taxpayer dollars."


    Cynthia held up a hand, preventing Harold from continuing further.


    She had hoped that the conversation would''ve gone more smoothly, that a productive dialogue could''ve been had, despite the stark differences in beliefs. But she''d been wrong. Yet she still had hope. She knew getting Harold and Gabriella to agree could be like trying to force two magnets of the same pole to touch, but one could hope, right? One could hope that, with the right set of circumstances, perhaps things would be different, and that a meeting about something that could be so seemingly polarizing could go well.


    She took a breath¡ª she needed to choose her next words carefully. She was treading a thin wire.


    Linda had set down her pen to join in the rest of the Waverwell government officials in watching her, awaiting her response.


    "I think you''re both right, in some ways, Gabriella and Harold. We need to do something, but we can''t be wasting taxpayer dollars. The money is there to be used, but it needs to be for the right thing and used for the right purposes."


    "Yes, thank you, Cynthia. See, Gabriella? This isn''t the thing to be using that money for." Harold jabbed his forefinger on the table, backing up his point.


    Gabriella just crossed her arms across her chest, giving him a distasteful look. The silky folds of her dress scrunched up as she tightened her grip, flexing her fingers ever so slightly. "I do not believe Cynthia was done speaking, Harold. I do not know where you got the idea that I am in favor of wasting taxpayer dollars, but that belief is a false one¡ª I would never be in favor of doing so. The citizens of Waverwell put their trust in us to do the necessary things for this country, and I will not betray that trust. I''d like to think that''s a desire that all of us at this table share."


    "But you''d be in favor of shutting everyone inside their homes for a disease that hasn''t yet caused any serious illness, much less death? It''s been like a sneeze¡ª annoying, a bit of a drag, somewhat sucky, but otherwise harmless."


    "Gabby-."


    Gabriella raised an eyebrow, silently stopping Delta in his tracks. Her dark eyes glowed, hardening like lava cooling into obsidian. "My name is not Gabby."


    "Gabriella. Sorry, it''s just hard to remember. Gimme a break¡ª I''m trying, don''t you know?"


    "Try harder, then. I will not give you a break for being unwilling to put in the effort it takes to remember a name."


    Delta rolled his eyes but didn''t say anything further.


    Linda scratched down a few more notes, keeping her gaze on her pad of paper. She reminded Cynthia of someone listening in on a conversation they weren''t quite sure they should be listening to but that couldn''t step away from either. Cynthia felt the same way.


    She wasn''t quite sure what she could say. She knew she didn''t have all of the information.


    She wanted to do something, but what could she do?


    Those were the things that kept her up at night. Left sleep just out of reach and her staring up at the ceiling, tracing designs she could find with her eyes as her mind relentlessly pondered all that she might be able to do for problems that had so many layers.


    "You were saying," Gabriella said, returning her attention to Harold, "about your response to shutting down the cities."


    "Yes," Harold replied, "I am not in favor of spending the money necessary to do that over a disease that hasn''t killed anyone."


    "Yet," Linda added. She dropped her pen to the table and rapped her knuckles against its marble surface a few times in quick succession. "It hasn''t killed anyone yet. Knock on wood ¡ªreal wood, though¡ª it never does, but it very well may. It very well may have already, although I pray it is not the case."


    "Like I said before, no one''s died. It''s like a little sneeze. Annoying, but harmless."


    Linda drew in a sharp breath. "But what about those where that sneeze doesn''t go away? Where that sneeze puts them at death''s door. Where that sneeze gets better but never all the way and it sticks around for months or years or forever. Where they''re already ill with a different condition and where that sneeze ¡ªeven just a mild illness from it¡ª can send them to the hospital, put them at death''s door, or even worse. Where they''re already so sick and cannot risk even being momentarily exposed. What about those people? Is it so harmless then?"


    "Yes, what Linda said. I will not allow that blood to be shed. Not when it was so easily avoidable." Gabriella stared down Harold, back straight and eyes glittering.


    "We''re not going to agree, Gabriella, and you know that." Harold leaned back in his chair, and his expression flattened into something unreadable, although Cynthia was almost certain there was a wisp of smugness tugging at the corner of his mouth.


    Cynthia held up a hand to silence Harold. "I do not have the time for this back-and-forth that will go nowhere. We were discussing the possibility of a compromise of sorts, so let''s return to that."


    "Let''s have another meeting in two weeks and see how things are," Delta said. He spun his phone in his grip, gaze flickering to the door. "We were talking about that before, and I don''t see anything wrong with it. Sometimes it''s better to just not act right away."


    Linda narrowed her eyes, working over the offer.


    "No. I will not agree to that." Gabriella shook her head. "We don''t even have the beginnings of a grasp on what this disease is. What makes you think we will in two weeks while all but Dal does nothing?"


    Harold huffed. "Because it is being researched as we speak. There are brilliant minds doing nothing but research it and study it. We know more than we did yesterday, and we''ll know more tomorrow than we did today. And it''s only a matter of time before someone has a breakthrough."


    "One week?" Linda said. "Instead of waiting two weeks, we wait one. Seven days to see how things progress?"


    "I can do that," Delta replied.


    Gabriella and Harold stared each other down.


    Cynthia mulled over waiting a week. A lot could change in just seven days. Without having a good guess as to the number of cases currently in Corville and Dal ¡ªand anywhere else the disease might have spread so far, beyond the Underdown and Cat''s Cradle¡ª no one would be able to accurately say


    But she also knew that there might not be a better compromise. Less would change in one week than in two or more.


    If she agreed, it would be three to two, and Cynthia knew Gabriella would agree, even if she wanted to act now, which would make it four to one. Harold would be forced to agree or say no and still wait a week¡ª majority still ruled, even if it wasn''t an official Waverwell government vote.


    "I agree," Cynthia said. She hoped it was the right choice, not asking for a shorter wait time or fighting to make a decision right then. She wished she could get a brief glimpse into the future. See what a week from now would look like. How many cases? How many new cases? Were there any deaths? What were things like? Did people think the government had been doing the right thing?


    "I will agree to that." Gabriella''s voice was laced with reluctance.


    I wish we could do something right now, Cynthia thought, but we aren''t going to get a better deal. And I don''t know enough to know if it''s the right decision to use the Presidential power force the country to act on my orders.


    Harold chewed on his lips. Cynthia could almost see the wheels turning in his head, but she couldn''t take a guess as to what he was thinking about.


    "I will agree to that as well," he murmured.


    "Wonderful." Cynthia laced her fingers together on the table, leaning forward. "So shall we meet here at the same time a week from now?"


    "Very well," Gabriella replied.


    "It''s already in my calendar." Delta''s fingers flew across his phone screen, tapping away. He held his arm out to take a selfie, then returned to typing.


    Cynthia wrote herself a couple of reminders on a sticky note¡ª meet Charlotte for dinner instead of lunch, organize her desk, the meeting next week, check in with Larson Hotch and Asa and Azrael.


    She bid everyone farewell before ducking out of the meeting room and into the hallway.


    After forcing herself to walk ¡ªnot run¡ª to the President''s Room, she closed the door firmly behind her, although she knew it didn''t lock, not unless there was an emergency. Still, the visible barrier between her and the hallway provided a sense of comfort. She sent a quick message to Charlotte, saying she loved her and that she would need to take a rain check on lunch but that they could meet for dinner¡ª she just needed a few minutes to herself.


    She kept moving, pacing in circles along the edge of the rug in the middle of the room to try to ease her mind and keep herself from thinking too hard and getting caught up in a spiral of panic about the disease.


    Knowledge was power. At least, that''s what her father had always told her when he gently pressed her to explore her interests. If you want to change the world, you need to first know the world you live in, Benedict had said. How can you change something you don''t know?


    Cynthia perched herself on the edge of her chair and read through the documents Seven had dropped off, weighing each word and thinking it over. Only once she had begun to be able to quote it did she stop.


    But her mind didn''t quiet, and she began pacing again.


    It was only a matter of time before someone came knocking at her door, demanding answers, a comment, her thoughts and opinions on one matter or another.


    She wanted to give answers and information. She wanted to help lead her country through this time. It was what she had signed up for when she ran for President of Waverwell. And when she won and earned her spot as President, she had sworn she would provide everything her country needed, that she would keep her country stable, that she would guide her country through anything it may face.


    It fell on her to make the right decisions about the disease, about Ashley Baok''s murder, about anything and everything that fell in the hands of Waverwell government. Officials could help ¡ªand they did¡ª but the final decision rested in Cynthia''s hands.


    Cynthia sat down against the wall, directly beneath the massive map of Waverwell that blanketed that side of the President''s Room. She pulled her knees to her chest and took a breath.


    What was she supposed to do? She knew there were a slew of answers to that, a myriad of things she could do.


    But how was she supposed to make sure she got it right every time?


    Cynthia had a lengthy support system. Every President of Waverwell did. Assistants to notify them about new developments. Interns that would ferry around documents when they weren''t learning. Other officials to discuss possible new laws, responses to current events.


    But many things fell on her shoulders, and she was the face of Waverwell government¡ª good or bad, she was the one people looked at for what happened.


    Cynthia wanted people to trust Waverwell government. She wanted them to believe that their government would be there, would be helping in whatever way possible.


    No, she told herself, you''re getting caught up in everything. Deep breaths, Cynthia, just breathe. Panicking won''t help anything. Take a deep breath and a moment to settle yourself. You can''t make any good decisions when you''re stressed and spiraling. Calm down so you can make the best decisions.


    Cynthia was counting her breaths ¡ªin for four, hold for four, out for four, hold for four, repeat¡ª when her phone began ringing.


    The sharp sound cut through the relative silence of the President''s Room, save for the low drone of the bustling streets below and the faded chatter from within the Waverwell government building.


    It took Cynthia a moment to locate where the sound was coming from, but when she did, she frowned. She hadn''t been expecting any phone calls right then. But still, if the call had made it to her own phone, the caller had made it past the security that ensured only vetted people had access to her like that. Or it was someone she had given her direct line to, but still only after careful examination.


    She unfolded her legs and stood up, crossing the room until she reached the phone.


    "Hello?" She asked after answering it. "Who is this?"


    "Hello, Mrs. President. This is Larson Hotch, from the Moonfall Precinct. I''m calling with an update on the investigation into Ashley Baok''s murder."


    "You have an update?" Cynthia echoed. She couldn''t quite keep the hope from her voice.


    "Yes," Larson Hotch replied. "Although, I am afraid it''s not the update I''m sure everyone was hoping for. We do not yet know who did it, and we do not have any suspects as of now. But we are still looking, and we will not stop looking until we have all the answers."


    Larson''s words sounded like those any detective would say to the public or to a grieving family ¡ª we won''t stop looking, not the update I''m sure everyone was hoping for. But he still sounded honest, and Cynthia found a measure of comfort, despite not having any real ties to Ashley Baok. She had barely known him, and she knew nothing about Ashley Baok outside of his involvement in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit.


    "We believe there were three people involved in Ashley Baok''s murder, not including the witness, whom we believe to have not been involved. A very unlucky person in the worst place at the worst time. We still have not found them, but we are hoping we will soon, or that they will come forward."


    "Three?" Cynthia echoed. Her voice sounded distant, alien. Like someone else was speaking through her.


    How could one person be evil enough to commit such an unthinkable crime, much less three? Her stomach sank through her toes, and she wasn''t quite sure how she couldn''t see it seeping through her shoes.


    "Yes, three," Larson confirmed.


    "Three people murdered Ashley Baok," she whispered, before adding: "And you''re sure of this?"


    "I cannot say for sure, as we do not have all of the information and evidence yet, but I do believe so. We managed to get three separate footprints from the scene, along with a few clumps of fur we were able to identify as fake fur used in costumes. Disguises of some sort, perhaps. We are still looking into where it came from and what it was used in and what the three people may have used it for. The evidence we have so far ¡ªapart from the fact we still do not know who is responsible¡ª will not hold up in court, but by the time we are done and have caught those involved, we will have an airtight case against them."


    Cynthia shook her head. Everyone responsible would be caught and brought to justice. President of Waverwell came with significant power, and she''d use it.


    "Let me know if you need anything," she said.


    "Thank you, I will."


    Cynthia found herself speaking, despite not having fully thought through what she was going to say. "What do you think of this case?"


    Larson sighed, and Cynthia heard shuffling in the background¡ª him moving his chair and sitting down. "I think it''ll be one that goes into the textbooks. This is a big case. I''m guessing it will become one everyone knows by name. I mean, at the Precinct, everyone''s started calling them the Trinity."


    "The Trinity." Cynthia ran the words over her tongue, testing them out. The name fit. Three of the worst of the worst, three who didn''t have a line that was too far, three who hid behind masks because they were too cowardly to stand beside what they had done and tell the world who they were.


    "The Trinity," Larson confirmed.


    "Do you think Ashley Baok''s murder was their first?" The question was meek, quiet. In her heart, Cynthia already knew the answer, but she didn''t want to think it through, put together the pieces she knew went with each other, because she didn''t like what it meant.


    Larson was silent for long enough that Cynthia almost checked to see if her phone still had a connection. "No," he said, voice tight, like he was giving up a painful secret. "I don''t believe it was their first time killing. Whether together as a group or apart, I cannot say at this time, but I do not believe Ashley Baok''s murder was their first. They may have been arrested as suspects before for a different crime ¡ªmurder or otherwise¡ª or they might never have been caught, either because they got away or because it was a crime none of the Precincts ever knew about. It''s unfortunate, but it does sometimes happen."


    "Will they stop?" Again, another question she knew the answer too, but needed another''s opinion to take the edge off the blow, even just a little.


    "I..." Larson exhaled, and Cynthia caught the hitch in his breath. The physical manifestation of the stress. "I cannot see any way this will be their last murder without them being caught.


    "They''re good, Cynthia. Real good, and that makes them all the more dangerous. They''re not just out on a spree, killing when the desire washes over them. They think each attack through, they plan it out, they clean up to minimize the evidence we have to work with. They''re smart, they work together well, and they seem to have no qualms about any form of torture or killing.


    "This is just the beginning for the Trinity."

 me84 - Chapter 3 - Chad Malcolm - Under the Nose of the Serpent

    Chapter 3


    CHAD MALCOLM


    Chad Malcolm stared at his computer screen.


    His fingers rested on his keyboard, but they were still. He hadn''t added anything to his report on the internal investigation into who the whistleblower may be in the last fifteen minutes. In the last hour, he had only added a handful of sentences he knew hardly counted as somewhat passable writing. At least he had Malibu who would translate the document into proper writing for whomever it was going to. She could get it into the language that was to be expected from co-owner and CEO of Leviathan Inc.


    Chad glanced up at his wife over the top of his computer. Her silky hair cascaded over her shoulders, and light glittered on her ruby necklace. She really was the most beautiful woman Chad had ever had the privilege of laying eyes upon, with intelligence that matched her looks¡ª Darcy was a goddess walking the earth of Waverwell, and Chad was the one she had married. He was so lucky.


    Darcy''s eyes were fixated on her own computer as her fingertips tapped away at her keyboard.


    A pang of jealousy cut through Chad''s chest, but he didn''t give it any more thought¡ª Darcy had her own work and it was getting done. I''ll just have to come up with my own way to get words on the page, he thought, returning his attention to his screen.


    The cursor flashed at him in an accusing sort of way, and he frowned at it.


    Chad curled his fingers into tight fists as frustration washed over him, egged on by the rhythmic ticking of the clock hanging on the wall between his desk and Darcy''s.


    He took a sip of coffee. A hair over room temperature, it wasn''t very good, but coffee was coffee, and he needed the caffeine. Perhaps that little bit of energy would jumpstart his brain, and he''d be able to get the rest of the report. Wishful thinking, but it will work. Believe it, and it would turn true.


    There really wasn''t very much to be put in the report¡ª much of it was what had already been figured out: the whistleblower was likely a current or past employee of Leviathan Inc., the whistleblower had released another statement to Waverwell News, the whistleblower had made demands that Leviathan Inc. expose themselves and show what they had done, and the whistleblower had refused to give any indication of their identity when Waverwell News had asked.


    At Chad''s request, Malibu had begun an internal investigation into every employee in Leviathan Inc. But since the company was the largest employer out of any company in Waverwell ¡ªclose to ninety-thousand people received paychecks from them, almost a fifth of Waverwell''s entire population¡ª sifting through every employee file was no easy task. No quick task, either.


    Malibu had people working around the clock, but there were still countless more to go through, even with computer assistance.


    And who knew if the whistleblower was working alone? Chad thought with a frown.


    How many of his and Darcy''s employees were betraying the very ideals Leviathan Inc. stood for? Loyalty, dedication, hard work, intelligence, quality, outstanding customer service, things he thought no one should have to think about¡ª it was so obvious what a company should look like. But it seemed not everyone working at Leviathan Inc. held the same beliefs he did.


    The quiet patter of Darcy''s keyboard stopped, and Chad looked up as the silence settled over the room.


    "Did Malibu ever find who the whistleblower was?" She asked.


    Chad shook his head. "No, not yet."


    "Oh." Darcy''s lips pursed. "That''s unfortunate. I would''ve thought she''d have found them by now. I will have to speak with her later." She drummed her manicured nails on her desk, face wrinkling in a frown Chad wished he could wipe away so she would never feel upset again. "I really would''ve hoped Malibu would have been able to figure out who the whistleblower is, that little coward. If you''re going to make such a drastic claim like the one they made, at least have the guts to put your own face behind it and say it was you."


    "I couldn''t agree more, honey."


    Darcy smiled, and Chad felt his heart melt in his chest. He wanted to make her smile again, just so he could see the expression once more. If he had any say, she would always be happy, would always be content.


    Chad returned his attention to his computer when Darcy began typing agin. The cursor on his screen flashed as he tried to formulate his thoughts into something he could turn into sentences.


    We are still conducting an internal investigation into the identity of the person who made the claims that the disease spreading through Corville, Dal, and other possible cities doctors have yet to confirm was caused by Leviathan Inc.''s energy source Arkreon.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    With close to ninety-thousand employees, the investigation into possible persons of interest is taking time, but we will not stop until the person is found. We are confident the person is a current or past employee of Leviathan Inc., as some of the information they released in their claims included things that only someone who worked at Leviathan Inc. would know.


    But it wasn''t enough. There was the data¡ª people cleared, people somewhere between possible persons of interest and cleared, people closer to persons of interest, and people still being puzzled out, what was being looked for, time with Leviathan Inc., what the job in the company was. But none of that would make for a report on its own; more was needed to connect the data, show its relevance to the search for the whistleblower and to the other data, make it so heads and tails could be made of everything.


    Two paragraphs couldn''t do that.


    "I''m going to take a walk and stretch my legs and clear my head. The report will be done by the end of the day, but I can''t really get anything more written down right now," Chad said as he stood up from his chair, arching his arms over his head to release the tension from his back. His spine popped, relieved after being hunched over at a computer for the last several hours.


    "Ok. Let me know if you need anything. Where will you be heading?" Darcy''s eyes were warm as she gazed at him.


    "I''ll be going up to the rooftop balcony, I think. I won''t be gone long; I just need a moment to breathe. It''s so frustrating knowing that this little whistleblower is likely right under our noses. Hiding in plain sight. But we cannot find out who they are."


    "Yet," Chad added. "We cannot find out who they are yet."


    Darcy nodded her head. "Yet, indeed. We will find them."


    xxxx


    Chad swiped his key card and tapped the button in the elevator for the roof, which had lit up green after his key card had been approved. The elevator lurched and then began moving upward, coming to an abrupt halt at the top. Chad stepped out onto the roof


    The air was still, tinged with just enough warmth that it was comfortable. The strings of light strung up between trellises cast blurred rings of white on the ground, and the succulents in the bowl on the table gave a vibrant splash of color against the dull grey tones of the furniture.


    Traffic was light; early afternoon never got very busy since most were at work, just past lunch and waiting until late afternoon when they could go home. Chad heard a few honks, but not the near-constant blare like he always heard when people started their commute back home.


    He sat down on one of the couches, and the cushions cradled his body as he leaned back and closed his eyes. The sun''s gentle rays shone down onto his face, warming his skin.


    Chad wondered if the whistleblower was somewhere beneath him, working at a desk, perhaps, tech support, maybe, receptionist, possibly. Or were they a secretary, custodian, intern. Were they sitting in a chair here in Leviathan Inc.''s Corville office?


    Did they know just how hard he was looking for them? Did they know that he would talk with every single person Leviathan Inc. employed if it meant finding them? Did they know that he would scour every inch of Waverwell if it meant uncovering their identity?


    But what Chad couldn''t understand was why. Why had the whistleblower done what they had done? Perhaps they were bribed?


    Chad leaned forward, forearms on his knees.


    Leviathan Inc. paid well. Highly competitive pay, even at entry-level jobs. Gave good vacation time. Offered good benefits. People stuck around. Chad had made sure Leviathan Inc. was a company people would be proud to work at. He wanted their logo ¡ªthe teal serpent''s head¡ª to be a badge of honor, an image that showcased where somebody worked, to say that yes, they worked at the greatest company in all of Waverwell.


    He supposed that a bribe could''ve been made, but depending on what job the whistleblower held, it would''ve had to have been huge¡ª Chad took pride in being able to offer some of the best salaries across the board, even amongst companies not in the energy production business.


    Perhaps blackmail? Maybe a family member was threatened? Unwanted photographs that were to be exposed? A secret revealed?


    He couldn''t understand what would''ve caused someone to make such terrible claims. What use would he have for setting a horrible disease loose on the citizens of Waverwell? They paid him to provide energy for their homes and businesses. Without customers, Chad had nothing.


    But then the thought crossed his mind that perhaps there wasn''t an external reason the whistleblower made those claims. Perhaps they weren''t forced.


    Anger churned in Chad''s gut and he narrowed his eyes, curling his lip.


    Perhaps the whistleblower made those false claims of their own accord. They might not even have talked with anyone¡ª it might have been entirely their own idea. It might have been only them writing everything up and sharing it with Waverwell News and Did You Hear?! The idea made rage simmer and bubble in Chad''s gut.


    He clenched his fists, but before he could scream like he so badly wanted to, he exhaled slowly, imagining every bit of his fury getting thrown out into the sky in fiery curls of red from his breath. Snapping would hold no greater purpose. It would not help find the whistleblower. It would not help cushion Leviathan Inc.''s fall. It would not help rebuild Leviathan Inc.''s empire.


    "Ok, Chad," he whispered to himself. "What do we know about the whistleblower so far?"


    So little was known¡ª the claims were known, and it was known that the person likely was a current or past employee of Leviathan Inc. But past that, nothing was known, and it frustrated him to no end.


    Chad tilted his head up to the sky, and the sun shone down on his face. The fiery rays lit up the sky and cast stark shadows on the ground, crisp lines outlining where the sun could not reach.


    Anger won''t help, he reminded himself. It will only blind you to the simplest, most obvious things. Your actions will turn childish and stupid. You need to keep a level head, Chad. Only then will you be able to get ahead of the whistleblower and find out their identity. Be patient and leave no stone left unturned. Go through every scrap of information you can find.


    The whistleblower might have been keeping their identity under lock and key, but Chad knew no one was invisible. They did exist. There was something out there that would lead to them, and he would find it. He was so close he could taste it. They were right under his nose.


    Right under the nose of the serpent.


    It was a game of cat and mouse, and the whistleblower would walk right into his waiting claws.

 me84 - Chapter 4 - Kristin Baok - In the Company of Devils

    Chapter 4


    KRISTIN BAOK


    Kristin Baok was shaking enough that he thought he might vibrate out of his skin.


    It was the most he had felt since he learned of his brother''s murder.


    A little thread of hope burned in his chest, branding his soul with the choking need for the truth, the knowledge of what really happened to Ashley. Who had decided his life would get cut so painfully short, who had inflicted those countless terrible injuries, who was responsible for making the world live on without Ashley.


    But this person ¡ªthis Felix Fisk¡ª claimed to have witnessed what happened to Ashley.


    This Felix Fisk might have answers to some of the questions brimming in Kristin''s head.


    This Felix Fisk might be able to quiet the clamor in Kristin''s mind every night as he lay awake wondering what had happened to his brother.


    This Felix Fisk might make it so Ashley could get the justice he deserved and Kristin could get whatever closure that might offer and no longer have to think and wonder quite so hard.


    The yawning void of nothingness in Kristin''s soul thrummed with energy as he watched Ferris and Charlie read the email.


    "Felix said he saw it," Kristin said, voice tight and high. "And Larson said there was a witness to Ashley''s... Ashley''s murder."


    Ferris leaned back on the couch, setting Kristin''s laptop on the coffee table. "Yes, that is true about a witness," he said carefully, working over his words, "but this isn''t really proof that this Felix is the witness. As terrible as the thought is and as much as I hate saying it, this could be fake."


    Charlie scowled at the email.


    "What is it?" Kristin asked, hoping with every cell of his body that she saw something different. That she would back up his own all-consuming need for this to pan out into something. That she would say with certainty that the email was true, was real.


    That Felix Fisk was the witness.


    She curled her lip. "Well, dunno. There''s just somethin'' about it, you know? I mean, the words in the email seem like he genuinely is upset about... supposedly witnessing Ashley''s murder. And that tracks with what Larson said about another person there who wasn''t involved. But he doesn''t really give any details. Sure, he said he heard a scream, but that''s generic, you know? It''s a safe thing to say, cuz who wouldn''t scream in that situation? There aren''t really any other details to show that he knows stuff only the witness would know. I can get why he might have avoided offering any details, though. He''s the one reachin'' out, and if he''s got the wrong email, no harm no foul and nothing is exposed to the wrong person. And he doesn''t know if we''ll ¡ªkinda meaning you, Kristin, but sorta all of us¡ª even want to talk to him. But this... even though I just was talking like he really was the witness, I can''t say for certain. It would be nice if he was, but who knows. Nothing in there is proof this Felix Fisk dude is the witness. Doesn''t mean he isn''t but it''s not any proof, no matter how nice that would be."


    "You just said it wasn''t proof he''s not the witness," Kristin blurted, clinging to those threads of hope in a grip that was beginning to slip. "We gotta reach out, right? We gotta see?"


    "I don''t know," Ferris said. "I think we should turn this over to Larson Hotch. He''ll be able to figure out if it''s real or not, and then what the next best steps are in regard to it."


    "If it''s nothing, we shouldn''t waste Larson''s time, right? He''s going through everything they''ve already found and finding where they still need to search." Kristin''s fingers itched to hit the reply button and type out a message. What else did Felix know? What did Felix see?


    But a small part of him knew that Ferris and Charlie very well could be right¡ª Felix Fisk might not even be a real person, and, whether or not Felix was real, whoever wrote the email might not have even been anywhere near Myway Highway on the night of Ashley''s murder. They could''ve been out in Raconteur, in the far-off outskirts of Cloverleaf, the furthest corners of Waverwell.


    The thought made his heart sink.


    Ferris gave a sympathetic smile, a look on his face that told Kristin he could see the panic swelling within his soul. "If it is something, Larson, along with Asa and Azrael and the other detectives working on Ashley''s case, will want to have the email so they can gain as many clues and pieces of evidence as they can. And they''ll want to contact Felix to speak with him. No stone will go unturned, Kristin."


    That little part of Kristin ¡ªthe part that lurked somewhere in the far depths of his conscious¡ª knew that Ferris was right. If this email did turn out to be true, Larson would want to speak with Felix, as would Asa and Azrael. They would need to know about the email, and Kristin didn''t know if they would let him respond.


    Didn''t know if they would let him communicate with possibly the only person apart from the killers who knew what happened to Ashley, and Kristin hated that.


    Kristin choked on a breath. His hands trembled, and his eyes burned.


    How would he be able to live with himself if he didn''t respond to Felix Fisk? He would be letting this possible source of answers slip through his fingers. He would be letting a chance ¡ªpossibly the only chance¡ª at being able to let his brother rest easier if at all possible and himself not get lost so often in the why.


    Again and again and again Kristin had found himself wondering about the why. Why Ashley? Why would someone want to do such a thing to him? What was so different about Ashley that it was him and not Kristin? They were twins, shared the same DNA. Why was it Ashley and not himself?


    The SFPU ¡ªnow NYTE¡ª house just felt cold and hollow. Kristin could barely get himself to walk to his own room. Ashley''s was right next to his. Shortly after joining the SFPU, the novelty of not sleeping within arm''s reach of each other like they always had in Cat''s Cradle, of being an entire room apart, had worn off, and Kristin had found that he liked the separation. His brother had never been far and could be reached with ease, but Kristin could get some space for himself like he had never been able to do before.


    But now he didn''t want that; he wished he could''ve spent every moment with Ashley, clinging on tight so he never had to let go. So he could always have his brother and never have to say goodbye.


    A tear rolled down Kristin''s cheek as he wished for the billionth time that he could see Ashley just one more time and give him just one more hug. Tell him that he was loved endlessly and how much he was appreciated. How much his presence lit up the world. How much he meant to those who knew him.


    Kristin wanted to hold on to his brother and never let him go. Chase off the cold arms of death.


    But he couldn''t. Kristin couldn''t bring Ashley back, no matter how much his heart ached, no matter how many seconds had ticked by and separated him from the last time he had seen his brother alive, no matter how many times he tried to pinch himself awake from the nightmare, no matter how much he wished he could go back in time and figure out a way to save his brother.


    "Maybe we could give a copy to Larson?" Kristin offered. "Or give him the original and save a copy for ourselves?"


    "He wants us on tight lockdown until he can say for certain whether anyone''s targeting us as well, or if..." Charlie trailed off, expression darkening and her fingers curling into fists against her sides, arms snug across her middle. "Or if Ashley was the sole intended target, as much as I hate saying that."


    Kristin shuddered internally at the thought of those responsible for Ashley''s murder coming after him and the rest of NYTE. If they had so easily caused the damage to Ashley and committed his murder, what was there that would stop them from harming him or any of his friends?


    Kristin didn''t know.


    "We need to send this to Larson Hotch, Kristin." Ferris tapped the computer screen with his fingernails where Felix''s email was still pulled up, turning around on the couch to face Kristin more fully.


    "Will he respond?" Kristin asked.


    "I don''t know," Ferris replied. "I truly cannot say. It depends on what Larson and the rest of the task force determine regarding its validity. If you''d like to reach out to them, I believe it''s Asa Smith who is the go-to person for verifying documents and figuring out if someone really is who they say they are."


    "Can''t we reply, too? We can send it to Larson and the rest of the team, but can''t we reply as well?" Kristin hated the edge of panic in his voice, how it bordered on a pathetic whine.


    Pain filled Ferris''s expression, and Kristin thought he might cry.


    Kristin held Ferris''s gaze, silently demanding an answer. He knew he needed someone else''s opinion, but he also knew that there was no reality in which he wouldn''t do everything he could. If responding to Felix might yield answers, wasn''t it worth a shot?


    But he knew this Felix person might be fake, and that tore his heart to shreds. The thought of someone pretending to know something about Ashley''s murder ripped open the wound that had hardly even begun to scab over, edges still raw and red, like they would be for an unknown length of eternity. Because how could he ever truly heal from losing his brother, his first and closest friend, the only blood family he ever knew? There was no getting over Ashley''s death. The pain would linger, let him go on and live after fading some but then return, rear its ugly head and leave him floundering. He didn''t have to be over the first tsunami of grief to know that he would never return to who he was before Ashley''s death.


    Charlie had something gentle and soft in her voice when she spoke that Kristin was both grateful for and hated. It reminded him of walking on eggshells. "We could wait and see what Asa figures out, or whoever it is if it''s not Asa who looks at that type of stuff. Then we could ask if we should reply." She tugged a pillow into her lap.


    Kristin clenched his fists and dug his nails into the back cushion of the couch, muscles tensing as anger flared in his veins.


    "You don''t need to be so damn careful with me," he snarled, hating how his eyes burned and his voice threatened to tremble and crack. "I''m not going to break. I can take whatever it is you really want to say. Ashley''s dead, but I''m still here and I''m not weak."


    "I''m sorry, Kristin," Charlie said. "I never thought you were weak. I just didn''t want to word something wrong."


    "If you fix it, I don''t care if you say something wrong. Just don''t talk like you''re picking your way through a field of landmines." Kristin fixed her with a cold glare, though he knew it didn''t hold its true weight since he couldn''t hold her gaze and he could feel the wet trail of a tear slipping down his cheek.


    "It hurts like hell for me, but I can''t imagine what it''s like for you," Charlie whispered, holding the pillow tight to her chest and squeezing it with her arms.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Kristin sighed. "He was your friend, too, you know. Family isn''t always blood. You all were our family. Our first real friends, too." He took a step back from the couch, ducking his head with a sharp exhale. "I mean, you were the first ones we gave any sort of trust to. That''s not something easily earned. Those times shortly after we joined when Ashley and I were talking, we thought we must be dreaming; we thought we''d always be living in Cat''s Cradle. Maybe we''d become employees at one of those clubs or work in a kitchen or something, but whenever we talked about what we imagined the future to be, it was always in Cat''s Cradle, never elsewhere. But then here we are. I was at first hesitant when you first told us about the SFPU when we were chatting in Jonathan''s Subs, Ferris, but I''m glad we crossed paths in Moonfall that day."


    Ferris opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Ren walked through the front door.


    "Morpheus''s wound is healing smoothly," they said. "He''s starting to move around easier."


    "That''s good," Kristin murmured.


    "What''s going on?" Ren asked. "Is everything ok?"


    Charlie turned Kristin''s laptop around to show them the email. "Someone using the name Felix Fisk has claimed to be the witness to Ashley''s murder and reached out to Kristin."


    "Oh, wow," they breathed, kneeling beside the coffee table to read it. "I wish they''d given more information so we could get a better sense of if it''s real or not. With what they''ve said, there''s no way to be able to tell if they really were the witness."


    Kristin wanted to scream. He knew there was no way to be able to tell if Felix really was the witness or if Felix really even was Felix.


    He had wished again and again and again for something that would lead to justice for Ashley. He had laid awake at night for hours and hours, sleep far out of reach, and silently begged for a clue because he had no idea why his brother was so viciously taken from him, why his brother''s life was cut so short.


    And now he had an email in his grip, one that claimed to have the information he had so desperately hoped for, and he had no idea if it was real.


    The task force investigating Ashley''s murder would be able to figure out its validity, but would they reply? Would they reach out and learn everything Felix knew?


    Would Felix even talk to them?


    Felix had emailed Kristin, not the Moonfall Precinct. He didn''t even know how Felix had gotten his email, but regardless, it was Kristin who had been contacted.


    "Zip might be able to pin down Felix''s location," Ren said. "We could send that to the Moonfall Precinct. I mean, we should send this email to them, shouldn''t we?" They looked up over the top of the laptop at the rest of the group.


    Ferris nodded. "I think we should. What do you think, Kristin?"


    Kristin held back a spitting growl of frustration. He knew Ferris was right: the email should be sent to Larson Hotch. They should''ve already done so. But he also knew that doing so would mean that he might never get the chance to talk with Felix. That just didn''t sit right with him. How could he not talk with the person who might have information about his brother and what happened during the last moments of Ashley''s life? Kristin wasn''t sure he wanted to know what that time had looked like ¡ªhe thought it might be better to remember Ashley as the bright, beaming person he was, not as the image of his shredded body that still haunted his memories¡ª but a part of him just needed to know, to be told what really happened. He just wanted the whole story, to be able to settle, once and for all, what happened to his brother and what caused someone to rip away his life.


    "We can send it," he choked out. "We can send the email to Larson Hotch. You''re right; they should have it, and they can determine whether or not it''s real."


    The words grated in his throat. Speaking them was like trying to pull teeth.


    But perhaps I can have it both ways, Kristin thought as the idea dawned on him. The email could be sent to Larson Hotch, but it would still be on his computer.


    Two working on something was better than one, right?


    "I''ll go show this to Zip and see if he''d be able to get any information about Felix," Kristin said.


    "Very well," Ferris said. "Can you forward it to me? The three of us can send it over to Larson with an update on how things are going here. He was asking about that earlier." Ferris gestured to himself, Charlie, and Ren. "Oh, also: keep an eye out in the courtyard¡ª there should be a delivery truck coming soon with some groceries. It''s our current replacement for the supply runs since we cannot leave the camp."


    Kristin nodded, picking up his laptop and sending the email to Ferris. "I will."


    Outside the house, the air had a slight bite to it, not cold, yet also not warm. Just enough to cause goosebumps to rise on his arms and for a shiver to race down his spine. His grip tightened on his laptop. A light breeze stirred the trees surrounding the camp, and a scattering of leaves bounced across the ground, blown by the wind.


    The door to Zip''s workshop was propped open by a rock.


    When Kristin poked his head in, it was clear that Zip had no idea he was there. Zip stood at the table in the center of his workshop, and his nimble fingers twisted together an assortment of wires, then weaved them into the body of a robot. Hades, Kristin realized. The sketches Zip had created were quickly becoming a fully functional robot. It was bigger than Kristin thought it would be, but even from the skeletal features of it, he could tell it would be a great asset for both NYTE and whatever remained of the SFPU.


    Kristin cleared his throat, and Zip jumped, eyes going comically wide. He glanced all around before relaxing when he saw Kristin.


    "Sorry for startling you," Kristin said. "I just had a question about something."


    Zip nodded, returning to assembling Hades, and Kristin took that as his cue to continue.


    "I got an email from someone claiming to be the witness to Ashley''s murder, but there isn''t enough information for us to be able to determine if they''re telling the truth. They say their name is Felix Fisk and that they work in tech support at Leviathan Inc. I was hoping you''d be able to see where the email came from and possibly find out if this really was sent by someone named Felix Fisk? Mostly I was just, uh, hoping for kinda anything." Kristin shrugged, setting his laptop down on the edge of the table Zip stood at.


    "An... an email?" Zip asked, pausing as he fiddled with a handful of bolts and screws. His dark hair hung over his forehead in tight curls, hiding a portion of his face, but Kristin still caught the hint of a frown furrowing his eyebrows.


    "Yeah, an email. Do you think you''d be able to look into it?"


    Zip finished stringing together the wires and secured them in place, then walked over to Kristin''s side. He skimmed the email.


    "Send it to... my computer. I''ll-. I''ll look."


    "Thank you." Kristin quickly forwarded the email to him.


    Zip crossed the workshop and hit the power button on his computer. It was massive, hooked up to several monitors with a wide assortment of cords for purposes that Kristin couldn''t begin to name. He still wasn''t sure how Zip had managed to find the computer and get his hands on it, but it had come in handy on countless occasions, including continuously processing the video feeds from the Camera Traps and alerting to poachers they may not have otherwise found in time. They had caught and arrested Pyr Iskie both times before he had been able to wreak too much havoc because of the alerts.


    One by one, the monitors all flickered to life once Zip''s computer was on. Two of the monitors cycled through feeds of the Camera Traps, while another one had a 3D model of Hades. Zip used another one to pull up the email.


    But before he did anything else, he paused, tilting his head to the side.


    "Do... should-. Should th-this go to... to Larson?" Zip turned around, a frown wrinkling his features.


    Kristin clenched his fingers into a tight fist to keep himself from reacting too much. "Ferris is sending it to him. Please, Zip. I can''t just sit here and not look into this. I''ll go crazy. I''d do it myself, but I don''t know even a fraction of what you do about computers and looking into digital stuff. Please."


    Zip pondered for a few moments, eyes trailing across Kristin and the space around him, never lingering in one place for too long.


    "Ok," he finally said. "Give me a minute."


    "Thank you."


    Zip turned back around, sat down in his chair, and began typing in commands onto his computer.


    Kristin had to remind himself to breathe¡ª he was so close to answers that he could almost taste it.


    It felt like forever until Zip''s fingers slowed and he spun in his chair to face Kristin.


    "It''ll... it''ll take a while to go through everything. Similar to what... th'' government does but my version. I''ll let you-you know when it''s done."


    Zip returned to working on Hades, and Kristin had to remind himself yet again to take a deep breath and not scream.


    Answers will take time, he told himself. You just need to wait for a little while. It sucks and Ashley deserves answers right now, but justice will have to wait. Whoever did this will be exposed, it might just take a little while.


    Kristin tried to calm himself. Reassure himself that he was searching for answers, as were the rest of NYTE. They''d figure out what was in Ashley''s journal and then tell everyone, like Ashley had requested. Larson Hotch was investigating Ashley''s murder, as were Asa and Azrael, along with the rest of the task force.


    People were looking into every lead. No stone was going to go unturned.


    But Kristin couldn''t quite silence the little voice in the back of his head: If those responsible had so easily mauled his brother in such terrible ways, was there anything they wouldn''t do?


    What else might they do before they were caught?


    Kristin shuddered at the thought. He didn''t want to know.


    xxxx


    In the evening, after dinner and after everyone had retreated to their respective rooms, Kristin sat at the table across from his bed, the same one he had treated Morpheus at a few weeks prior.


    His laptop stared him down, and the cursor flashed in a repetitive rhythm. The words took time to come to him, but when they did, they flowed from his fingertips in a continuous stream.


    Dear Felix Fisk,


    This is Kristin Baok. You recently emailed me.


    I received your email and showed it to the rest of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. I would also like to notify you that your email has been forwarded to Larson Hotch, the rest of the task force investigating Ashley Baok''s murder, as well as the Moonfall Precinct.


    For your sake, I really hope you were telling the truth when you reached out to me. Everyone else in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit wants to believe you. And I do, too. They know that you could be lying, and so do I. But I hope you''re telling the truth.


    Not because it means you saw my brother''s murder and witnessed the last moments of his life. Not because perhaps Ashley knew of your presence and that you made it so he wasn''t so alone in the company of devils. Rather, because you hold answers that can get my brother the justice he deserves and can hold those responsible accountable for their actions.


    You hold answers, if you are telling the truth, Felix Fisk. Answers to who is responsible. Answers to what happened that the Moonfall Precinct and those investigating Ashley''s murder might not yet know. Answers to what happened in those final moments of Ashley''s life. Answers to why Ashley was murdered.


    I don''t know who you are, but I ask that if you truly are telling the truth, that you seek out Larson Hotch. He is looking for you, if you really did witness Ashley''s murder, Felix Fisk. You can reach out to the Moonfall Precinct on Muse at MoonfallPrecinctOfficial, or you can call them, email them, or go to their physical location in Moonfall. They will listen, however you reach out.


    I wish you well,


    Kristin Baok


    Kristin''s fingers trembled as he sat back, folding his hands in his lap. He drew in a shaky breath.


    He skimmed through the email, eyes barely able to process the words, and his sentences seemed foreign. His writing had turned so formal. Not once had he written an email that held such importance and weight. Not even when he had emailed President Cynthia Corville had his writing been like that. He hadn''t felt half the nerves he felt as he edited each sentence, fixed up missing and wrong punctuation, moved around words until he felt the sentence was clear. Cat''s Cradle had never offered much in the way of education, but Ashley''s love of reading had allowed the both of them to teach themselves the basics in writing, and the rest had quickly gotten filled in during their time in the SFPU.


    The idea of clicking the little arrow to respond to Felix felt so daunting, and Kristin found himself worrying his lip as he stared down the button.


    He ran a hand through his curly hair. Did he really want to respond?


    Ferris had told him that there was a good chance Felix was lying, that this was just someone ¡ªwho might not even be named Felix¡ª seeking attention, fame, money, something for their own self-gain and who had no knowledge of the case. Who might not even have any knowledge of Ashley beyond what was said on the news.


    Nothing as to who Ashley was as a person, Kristin thought as pain lanced through his heart. The news covered the cold facts¡ª the brutality of Ashley''s murder, how he had been carved up and slaughtered, how Larson Hotch and the Moonfall Precinct still didn''t have any suspects, how those responsible were still on the run and free. Not one mention of who Ashley was, the kind of person he was, how he had cared so deeply, how he had always had an easy smile, even on the hardest of nights in Cat''s Cradle.


    Kristin wondered yet again if the pain would ever go away, if it would ever ease. But he never wanted it to go away if it meant he had to forget. He never wanted to forget Ashley, never wanted to forget a single thing about his brother, never wanted to forget the memories.


    He pushed his laptop back on his desk and propped his elbows up on the edge, resting his forehead in his hands as his eyes closed.


    He pictured Ashley, dark eyes glowing, bright smile lighting up the world, contagious laugh. Arms pulling him in for a warm hug during those long nights in Cat''s Cradle, the crease of Ashley''s eyebrows as he blazed through his latest reading conquest, the half-hearted glare he gave whenever Charlie pulled a prank on him and the unspoken I''ll get you back he sent her.


    He thought about what Ashley would want him to do, what Ashley would do if their positions were reversed.


    But it was hardly a thought¡ª he knew Ashley wouldn''t stop. He knew Ashley would walk to the ends of the earth.


    And he would do the same for Ashley. He would never rest.


    He could do it; he could get past the nerves keeping him from replying to Felix, past the worries of if Felix truly was the witness Larson had talked about. It was worth a shot. Anything was. The worst that could happen was a name crossed off the list of those who could be the witness. Kristin wouldn''t mention anything that only those involved would know. He wouldn''t share anything that shouldn''t be said. He would tell Larson everything that Felix told him.


    It wasn''t wrong to search for those responsible.


    Ashley deserved justice.


    Kristin would make sure his brother got it, no matter what it took.


    And so he touched a finger to his trackpad and hit send.

 me84 - Chapter 5 - Ashley Baok - Two Bad Choices

    Chapter 5


    ASHLEY BAOK


    One Year Ago


    Tuesday


    Dear Diary,


    We caught our first offender as the SFPU.


    I''m still in shock. I think all the adrenaline never really let me fully process what was happening. I don''t even remember the guy''s name, but we caught him. Charlie made the arrest and put the handcuffs on the guy, and Ferris and Zip delivered him to the Moonfall Precinct.


    We''re still figuring everything out, but after several failed attempts that just wound up chasing offenders out of Pocket Forest, it''s nice to actually catch one. Sure, it''s great just telling them to scram, but that won''t give the same message as an actual arrest with charges placed. Are you more likely to do it again if you''re told to shoo, or if you see someone else formally charged and tried and sent to prison? Yeah, Diary¡ª you''re gonna keep on doing it if you''re just chased off without any real consequences.


    The guy we arrested said he was ''just going after the rabbits'' with some snares. I don''t think he realized snares don''t know what they''re supposed to catch. Snares will trap anything that places its limb in the wire. They don''t discriminate.


    So that''s my job tomorrow: I''m going to go track down the snares he set. I''ll bring some water and snacks and spend the day searching for those thin little wires hidden amongst the undergrowth. A tad painstaking, but worth it, of course. Those injuries from snares can be horrific, Diary. I''ve seen a few in the animals we didn''t reach in time. It''s the stuff of nightmares. Angry red flesh that''s been flayed into pieces, the white of bone glinting scarlet from blood, tendons torn from the struggle, the heat of infection as it starts to set in.


    Sometimes all we can do is end their suffering¡ª the injuries are just too severe. It''s heartbreaking, but there isn''t anything that can be done. Even if we could bring them to a specialized wild animal vet who could repair the damage as best they can and they could live at a zoo that could tailor the care to their needs, the animal wouldn''t have much in the way of quality of life.


    Perhaps that''s just me trying to justify what we''ve done to you, Diary. In those instances, there isn''t a right decision. Death is never the right way to go. It''s just two bad choices.


    We did see one rabbit on our way to arrest the guy. It was still breathing, though barely. One of its hind legs was stuck in a snare. Its eyes were wide, and its body trembled from the shock and fear. You could tell it had been struggling, Diary; the leaves were all messed up and there were scores in the dirt from the rabbit''s paws. The wire had dug into the rabbit''s leg and was cinched tight. With how deep the snare had cut and the caked blood around the wound, the rabbit had to have been there a while. Who knows how long, but I''m not going to speculate other than it was a long time.


    The rabbit was almost dead, and we ended its suffering.


    The arrest actually was easier than I thought it would be, Diary. It wasn''t that bar-fight brawl and rolling through the bushes knocking over trees wrestling match like in the movies. The biggest injury was a split lip Ren acquired while calling off Somnus and putting the handcuffs on the guy. He got in a nasty punch before they secured him. Charlie threatened to rough him up if he did that again, but she didn''t wind up needing to.


    The sound of those handcuffs locking around his wrists was like music to my ears, Diary. I can still picture the sound. Don''t think I''ll ever forget it. Hope I never do.


    Everything we had been working for has come true, Diary. I still can''t believe it. I know Ferris has had many sleepless nights talking with President Cynthia Corville and trying to get the funding we need. Perhaps this is the boost he will need. I guess, more realistically, the boost we all need.


    You know it can get pretty dull always getting so close to the offender. Close enough that you can literally TASTE the capture on your tongue... and then they slip right through your fingers. It really sucks, Diary.


    But we caught this one. Ferris and Ferris hand delivered him to the Moonfall Precinct.


    I bet he didn''t think he''d really get charged with anything. But, lucky for him, that got changed when the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit was created. Now you can get real jail time and sentences that cannot be shortened, no matter what a little angel you''re being while rotting in your cell. You gotta pay up in full for slaughtering animals and destroying the natural habitat.


    I wish I could''ve seen his face when he realized he wasn''t gonna get just a slap on the wrist.


    I know people can change, Diary, but they''ve also gotta face the consequences for their actions. His sentence won''t be the same as if he had killed a member of the Silverlight Pack ¡ªwolves are more protected than rabbits, Diary¡ª but he''ll still get some jail time to think about what he did and hopefully change for the better.


    We''re going to party tonight, Diary. Charlie''s making cookies, and I''m pretty sure Zip rigged up a disco ball and some speakers.


    Don''t worry, none of us like alcohol. Besides, we gotta be at the top of our game, since the next offender can strike at any time. We''ll be ready, Diary. It feels amazing catching the bad guy. It''s like I''m the superhero and they''re the supervillain, just minus any superpowers.


    I can''t wait to catch the next one. Sure, they''re not taking any human lives, but plants and animals are still important. What monsters are we if we continue taking and taking and taking? Many plants and animals were here long before there was even the idea of a human. They were here first. Who are we to drive them out of their homes if it''s frowned upon to do the same to another human?


    I look forward to the next hunt, Diary. It feels good to do my part and keep Pocket Forest safe.


    Until next time, Diary


    Ashley Baok


    Wednesday


    Dear Diary,


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Zip is making what he calls ''Camera Traps.'' Says they''ll alert to poachers once he gets them right. Also says there''s a decent chance they''ll take a while.


    Charlie wants them to alert at deer and the Silverlight pack. She found the research that had been done on the wildlife of Pocket Forest, and I quote, "Absolutely abysmal" so she took it upon herself to learn everything she could about the creatures and how the ecosystem works.


    I''ve been helping out as much as I can, Diary. I''ve been doing things around the camp, helping to get things organized and work out a system that works for us. Yesterday I spend a few hours walking through the Forest with Zip to figure out the best locations for the Camera Traps so the highest percentage of the land would be covered by the view of the cameras without placing one on every tree. Zip had his computer run some crazy code to run through different layout options.


    Charlie insisted on a camera being placed near the Silverlight Pack''s den. She just about burst out of her skin in excitement when she found the den. I swear she was floating for the next week, Diary. That really made her... well, her year, probably, Diary.


    I''m curious how these Camera Traps will come together, Diary. I think Zip''s got this whole contraption planned out in his head, and it''s one of those things that you can''t really piece together until it''s almost done. Dunno. Guess we''ll just see, I suppose.


    Goodbye, Diary. I''ll see you next time


    Ashley Baok


    Thursday


    Dear Diary,


    Wow, three days in a row. That''s gotta be a record, right? Maybe I haven''t journaled enough yet to really have a record. It''s only been a few weeks, you know?


    Charlie was burning letters this morning. She built a little fireplace in the middle of the courtyard on the gravel, I''m guessing to prevent the fire from spreading. But she also had a big bucket of water next to her, so not too big of a risk of anything burning that shouldn''t.


    I asked her why she was burning the letters, but she wouldn''t tell me. All she said was that people were trying to talk to her, and they didn''t deserve anything she had to say.


    True that she doesn''t have to talk to anyone she doesn''t want to. No one does.


    Does make me curious though, you know, Diary? You can''t talk though, so maybe you don''t. Hate to break it to ya, but you''re an inanimate object, Diary. Suppose it''s more of a rhetorical thing, I guess.


    On that note, toodles, Diary. Ferris is asking for my help on a report for President Cynthia Corville. Still can''t believe we''re so close to her and she''s involved in our group! I don''t think I''ll ever be able to wrap my head around it.


    Toodles again, Diary


    Ashley Baok


    Thursday


    Dear Diary,


    Yes, two times in one day. That really oughta be a record, Diary. I''m making it one, and that''s final. No stopping me, haha.


    Ferris and I wrote up a report on us catching our first offender. I mean, talk about fancy speak. I can''t say I''ve ever seen so many formal sentences strung together before. I mean, books are written with all the bits and pieces of a proper sentence and such, but there''s a difference between that and the formality that is the report we sent to President Cynthia Corville. If you spoke like how the report was written, Diary, people would be looking at you like you''d magically grown a head and some arms. Not even the most uptight, educated, and proper person in all of Waverwell would speak like that.


    Wish I''d remembered to ask him where the hell he''d learned to write like that. Suppose it was just practice though, Diary.


    You know, everyone''s so nice here. I think we''re getting out of the ''honeymoon'' phase of the group. I forgot to tell you earlier, but there was a fight between Charlie and Zip yesterday. Turns out, it was a misunderstanding over what Zip had been asking for from Charlie about the Camera Trap by the Silverlight Pack den. Zip was asking *where* she wanted the camera so he could rig it with the best angle of the den, but Charlie thought he was asking if she *wanted* a camera. I didn''t hear the beginning of it, but I''m pretty sure Charlie started it. She has a bit of a temper, but I think she''s also got an off switch and will just shut off her emotions. The fight died down before it truly got started since neither Zip nor Charlie really wanted to fight. I''m glad about that, Diary. Course there''s gonna be disagreements and misunderstandings. We''re all people and no one''s perfect (not even me, sorry, Diary. Hate to have ruined that for you). But that doesn''t make fights good.


    Everything got worked out, thankfully, and Charlie apologized.


    I don''t think that fight would''ve happened a week or two ago¡ª someone would''ve probably just agreed and given in to keep the peace. At least we''re at the point where we feel comfortable enough to fight.


    Now, back to your place beneath my bed, Diary


    Ashley Baok


    Saturday


    Dear Diary,


    Maybe I''m going to become that person everyone turns to for help but who doesn''t do much on their own.


    Like, that person who will have their name on many projects alongside other people, but who will never have their name and their name alone on a project. Someone who''s destined to share the spotlight but never stand on their own beneath its light.


    That sounds sad. But poetic. Poetic sad, I suppose. As long as it sounds cool.


    Everyone has their own job, but I don''t really have mine. I can do a lot of stuff, but I can''t do anything at the expert level. More just I can do it well enough to get by but never any further.


    Ferris does all the paperwork-type stuff, Charlie''s learning everything about Pocket Forest, Zip knows computers and coding, Ren is training Somnus and is looking into potential other dogs, and Kristin is our medic for anything non-life-threatening or serious.


    But I don''t know what my ''thing'' is. Everyone else has theirs, but I don''t have mine. I can do a lot of random things, and if you need someone to learn something new at least somewhat well quickly, I''m your guy, but that doesn''t translate into knowledge at the level that everyone else has for their ''thing.''


    Maybe I''ll find it eventually.


    Ashley Baok


    Thursday


    Dear Diary,


    I found it.


    I found it!


    Took almost two weeks, but I found my ''thing,'' ok, Diary?


    I think it''s just learning about everything. I love books, I love reading. Research is something I can do. I guess kinda like Charlie''s hyperfocus. It''s just something I can get absorbed in. Not to the extent that she does¡ª I won''t forget to eat, drink, or use the restroom, but I just want to know eeeeeeverything. Some stuff is just so fascinating.


    Like, did you know that there''s a game that was created at the Night Owl nightclub and gambling den called Striker? I''d heard of it while in Cat''s Cradle, but I''ve never played it. Sounds like fun though. Perhaps I''ll have to teach it to myself and then show the rest of the SFPU. Might be a fun way to decompress in our down time. I think we could use a game to get some friendly competition going.


    Zip''s got a knack for numbers. I bet he''ll be able to pick it up really quickly. Counting cards, even though that isn''t allowed at the Night Owl. Or really any of the gambling dens in Cat''s Cradle. I''d say 50/50 for Charlie. If she''s interested in it, she''ll learn Striker. If she doesn''t, she probably won''t. As she''s said: Hyperfocus cannot be controlled¡ª it''s got a mind of its own.


    Maybe I''m just trying to make myself feel better by saying research is my ''thing,'' but it does make me feel better. I feel a bit more like I belong in the SFPU, like I''m not just there because Kristin is.


    I guess this just means I''ll get to research anything and everything that piques my interest, and that''s not a bad thing at all, Diary.


    You know, sometimes it just feels like I''m rambling here, Diary. Like I''m just writing to you because I''m trying to fill up the space. Like I''m searching for something I don''t yet know and I''ll somehow find it if I write to you for long enough. Maybe you know what I''m looking for, Diary. Maybe you know.


    Anyway, if I''m going to be the one who researches everything in my free time, I suppose I''ll have to find a project of some sort, Diary. You got any ideas? Rhetorical question, since you cannot talk, obviously.


    Maybe I''ll look at past offenders? Some of the big names in hunting, if that''s a thing? There might be a pattern of some sort in how different wildlife get poached and which plants get targeted the heaviest. I suppose that''s another thing I''m good at: Patterns. They''re so satisfying to look at. But if I can find any sort of trend or repeating strategy, perhaps we''d be able to get ahead of the offenders, rather than always playing catch-up.


    I guess we''ll just have to wait and see, won''t we, Diary?


    We''ll just have to wait and see,


    Ashley Baok

 me84 - Chapter 6 - Cynthia Corville - Its For Science

    Chapter 6


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Cynthia Corville was simultaneously looking forward to the meeting and dreading it in its entirety.


    One week had passed, and cases of the new disease had done nothing but rise. She was grateful that there were still no confirmed deaths caused by the disease, but that didn''t mean there were, in actuality, zero, or that the disease hadn''t played a role in some way. And no deaths didn''t make something good¡ª there were plenty of illnesses that held no concern of death but still caused a great deal of pain and suffering.


    Cynthia sat at her desk in the President''s Room, flipping through a stack of documents. Updates from the doctors and scientists researching the disease, ranging from what was known about it to where they still did not know enough to recommendations on how to best combat it since it had been determined that the disease spread through physical contact.


    But hidden amongst the last paragraphs in an update, someone had written out that the disease was not behaving like other ailments that had been studied before. Medications that had worked against other similar illnesses had no effect on this new one.


    Cynthia blew out a big breath of air as she read through the paragraph again. Unfortunate, but we will work through it, she told herself. No need to get worked up¡ª it will not help anything. You will become blinded, and that is the last thing you need.


    In big, bold letters at the top of the most recent report from the Corville Medical Center, the words RECOMMENDATION: COUNTRY-WIDE LOCKDOWN had been printed.


    Upon reading those words once, twice, and then thrice, Cynthia had leaned back in her chair, placed a hand over her mouth, closed her eyes, and let out a slow exhale. In the back of her mind, she knew she had known it was coming, hadn''t seen any realistic future where that lockdown didn''t occur. But she hadn''t been able to help the hope that had curled up in her heart. Hope that the disease would somehow have slunk off like a wounded animal and disappeared for good. Hope that maybe all that would be needed to be done was just wait a week and that would be the extent of its damage.


    But neither of those had happened; the disease had continued to spread. The only unaffected city remaining was Raconteur, which functioned almost as its own little state. Few made the trek to or from it, except for a few delivery trucks now and then and the odd car every so often. Cynthia hoped the disease never made it to there.


    Cynthia sighed. The recommendation to enforce a country-wide lockdown had been made, and those who made the recommendation were doctors and researchers at the top of their field who had dedicated their lives to healthcare and learning about the diseases and illnesses that affected the human species. They were the ones who knew how best to combat threats to human health.


    All Cynthia could do was implement laws and emergency actions that followed those recommendations.


    And she needed to now¡ª there had not yet been any deaths, but confirmed cases were rapidly increasing, and likely would continue to do so.


    The meeting with Gabriella, Delta, and the rest of the highest Waverwell government officials was in a few hours. Cynthia had time to look over each report in detail and absorb all of the information to create the best argument for enforcing the recommended lockdown; she knew she would get pushback from Harold and likely Delta.


    She could use her Presidential power to implement it without speaking to anyone, but her decision could be challenged and overruled. If she could at all avoid that scenario and get everyone in agreement, she would much rather do that.


    Just as she was responding to Harold''s email that yes, they were still meeting today and that yes, they were meeting in the same room as last week, someone knocked at the door to the President''s Room.


    "Come in," Cynthia called as she hit send on the email.


    "Hey, Sin," Charlotte said, letting the door shut behind her.


    "Char," Cynthia replied with a smile. "It is so great to see you." She stood up and walked around her desk to pull her wife in for a hug and a kiss.


    Charlotte''s touch lingered, hands holding onto Cynthia''s shoulders.


    "To what do I owe this surprise? It was a very pleasant and welcome surprise though." Cynthia placed her hands over Charlotte''s, gazing into her wife''s eyes. The warm feeling it gave her never got old and felt like it had the first time every time she looked at Charlotte.


    "We have lunch soon, remember?" Charlotte''s eyebrows furrowed.


    Cynthia took a quick step back, pawing across her desk for her calendar, a spiral-bound notebook bulging with enough sticky notes and cut-out papers taped in as reminders that it could not close flat. She skimmed through, and sure enough, lunch with Charlotte was on today''s list. Her heart sank, and she felt like a deflating balloon.


    She couldn''t make it¡ª between the meeting in the afternoon, keeping up with the investigation into Ashley''s murder, and working out how she could help combat the disease on top of all the other duties she had when it came to fulfilling the role of President of Waverwell, she would barely have time for a snack, much less fully commit both herself and her mind to enjoying a lunch with her wife where her full attention was on the meal and giving her wife the attention she deserved.


    "I''m sorry," Cynthia started, turning around and silently pleading with Charlotte to understand.


    "You can''t make it?" Charlotte''s voice was oddly flat.


    "I''m sorry," Cynthia repeated. "I would give anything to be able to sit down and have lunch with you, but I have so much going on. The second I have enough time to dedicate to a meal with you, I will. I want to so badly. I love you, and I love spending time with you."


    "I''ve barely seen you lately, Sin," Charlotte murmured, stepping forward to wrap her arms around Cynthia''s middle.


    Cynthia pressed her forehead into Charlotte''s shoulder, speaking into the curve of her neck. "I know. I''m sorry."


    "Sorry doesn''t change it."


    A bolt of pain lanced through Cynthia''s chest, and she held back her flinch.


    "I know," she whispered, tightening her grip and trying to commit to memory the feel of Charlotte, the warmth of her body. It was true¡ª no apology could make up for her being unable to sit down for lunch with her wife. Cynthia wanted to give Charlotte everything, dedicate every ounce of her attention to her wife and force new memories she would cherish forever. But she couldn''t, and sorry couldn''t change it.


    "That''s not what I meant."


    "But it''s true," Cynthia replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Charlotte''s throat. "It''s true."


    "I didn''t mean it like that." Charlotte pulled back but kept her hands on Cynthia''s shoulders.


    "How did you mean it?"


    "I miss you, Sin. I want to see you, I want to spend time with you. It''s like you''ve become a ghost. I know you''re drowning in work and are trying to carry our country through an incredibly tough time, but..." Charlotte sighed. "But I miss you. We''ve barely seen each other these past few weeks."


    "I know, I know. I''d change it in a heartbeat if I could. President of Waverwell is busy, but we made it work in the past. We can work it out now."


    "We can work it out," Charlotte confirmed.


    Cynthia chewed on her lip for a moment. "How about we do something tonight, even if it''s just saying goodnight for a few minutes? I''d love nothing more than to sit down for a meal, but I don''t know when I will be able to do that."


    Charlotte nodded. "I''d like to share a meal as well, but I know you''re busy. Hell, I''d love a vacation. But Presidents don''t get those very often, especially not when there''s a high-profile murder and a disease rampaging across the country. I''ll take doing something tonight, a quick goodnight or something more. Deal?" She stuck out her hand.


    "Deal." Cynthia took her wife''s hand and gave it a firm shake, just like her parents had taught her.


    "Seal it with a kiss? You can''t break it if it''s been sealed with a kiss." Charlotte smiled, eyes twinkling.


    Cynthia narrowed her eyes playfully. "I thought that was a pinkie promise?"


    "Well, there''s those, but there''s also promises sealed with kisses."


    "In that case, we should test out just how good those are." Cynthia stepped forward, closing the space between herself and her wife. She laced her arms around Charlotte''s shoulders.


    "I think we should. It''s for science."


    "Oh, most definitely," Cynthia said, pressing a soft kiss to Charlotte''s mouth and melting into it.


    xxxx


    Cynthia steeled herself as she walked down the hallway to the meeting room. In her arms, she held her notes and the documents, updates from various doctors and researchers about the disease Information that ranged from newly known facts about it to how it worked to the best precautions to take in keeping it under control.


    She wasn''t a doctor, so she was limited in what she could do.


    But, she silently added as she approached the room, she had power the doctors didn''t have.


    Cynthia could implement laws. She could lean on local governments to take certain steps, but she could also wield her Presidential power and make an executive decision on what choices to make. In her several years as President of Waverwell, she had never used that power, and she hoped she never would.


    Harold was already in the meeting room when Cynthia entered, and he was flipping through his notebook. He wore a green suit that gave him a bit of a queasy appearance, although his stern expression said otherwise.


    "Hello, Harold," Cynthia greeted as she sat down across from him.


    "Cynthia," he replied, giving her a quick nod of his head.


    It was only another few minutes before Gabriella opened the door, holding it for Delta as he walked through.


    Linda was the last to arrive, and she sat in the same seat as she had last week¡ª the one closest to the window that looked down at the street below. She pulled out her notebook and an assortment of pens.


    "Shall we begin?" Cynthia asked once the shuffling of papers ceased.


    "We shall," Harold replied.


    "I am ready," Linda said.


    "Wonderful." Cynthia pulled out the report she received from the Corville Medical Center. "In attendance we have myself, Cynthia Corville, as well as Gabriella Torres, Linda Machowski, Delta Bass, and Harold Morris.


    "A week ago we agreed that we would hold off on any major decisions until we had a better grasp on how the disease was acting and what recommendations were made by medical professionals. The most recent reports, which I made sure were all sent to you as well, say that the best course of action for right now is a country-wide lockdown to help prevent more people from catching the disease until we know enough to be able to effectively combat it. Their evidence is also in the report."


    "I think it''s an easy decision," Gabriella said. "We need the lockdown. It''ll be a bit unfortunate, sure. No one wants their normal routines to be disrupted, but the evidence is there and it has sound reasoning. And it is also not my place to argue too much since I do not have a medical degree."


    Harold crossed his arms across his chest. "I''m not convinced." His voice was flat and left no room for interpretation.


    "You''re not convinced about what?" Cynthia asked.


    "The lockdown!" Harold threw his hands up in the air.


    "What about it doesn''t have you convinced?"


    "That the lockdown is the best course of action. I mean, there''s those claims floating around that the disease is from Leviathan Inc., not that I agree with it. Bad business to infect customers, right? What would be their motive for doing so? But regardless, can''t the doctors just create some antidote?"


    "For one," Gabriella replied, "an antidote is for a poison. And two, I think few would intentionally infect others with a disease, although I will not come to any conclusions until I see clear evidence either confirming or denying the claims. And three, there are currently no medications or treatments that doctors know of and have in their possession that will work against this disease."


    "And they can''t just whip one up?"


    Gabriella''s body was tensed so tight that Cynthia thought she might spontaneously combust. "No, they cannot." Gabriella''s voice was smooth, sickly sweet, faux pleasant. "Doctors cannot just whip up a treatment to a disease they do not yet know enough about to properly work out the correct formula that would be used in said treatment."


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "They''re that slow?" Delta frowned.


    "Would you like to study something you cannot see with the naked eye and then figure out the best way to target it and treat it?" Gabriella snapped, nose wrinkling and dark eyes flashing. Light glinted off her dangling earrings in sharp bolts of white.


    "Nak-."


    "You say one word about naked, and God help me, we will have serious problems."


    Delta held his tongue.


    "I thought so."


    "Why are you so against the lockdown, Harold?" Cynthia asked.


    "I don''t think it''s necessary," he replied.


    "And why not?"


    "It''s going to cost jobs, and our economy is going to suffer."


    Gabriella gave Harold a steely glare, eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits. "An economy that is a product of our imagination that doesn''t truly exist is going to suffer? And this economy is something you are willing to place above the lives of the citizens you vowed to serve when you were elected to Waverwell government?"


    Harold met her cold gaze. "In case you forgot, my campaign ran on protecting jobs and the economy. In every speech I gave, I said I would do everything in my power to ensure the economy grew and became stronger and that new jobs would be created. Why do you think I stood beside Leviathan Inc. so much? They employ ninety-thousand citizens. That is almost one-fifth of Waverwell''s entire population."


    "You vowed you would serve the people of Waverwell. In this instance, serving the people means working to keep them safe from this disease, one that we still know little about and one that has not been acting like anything similar to it."


    "I do not wish anything bad upon the citizens and I am all for protecting them, but I do not feel that a lockdown is the right way to go."


    Cynthia exhaled slowly, holding back the biting response she wanted to give.


    She didn''t need Harold''s support to implement the lockdown; all she needed was the majority. But the more people she could get on her side, the better chance of the lockdown working the way she hoped it would¡ª citizens complying with minimal complaint because they saw the benefit and the reason why. Their politicians showing their support and pointing them in the direction of the doctors for answers would help.


    She needed Harold on her side if at all possible.


    "Harold," Linda said, lifting her gaze from her notebook. She tapped her pen against her ring finger as she spoke. "The doctors have stated that this is the best way currently known to help prevent more people from getting infected. It''s simple logic: it is harder for the disease to spread when people are spending less time near each other. Why are you having difficulty with that? I''m not super excited about shutting down our country, but it''s what needs to be done. As soon as the lockdown is no longer necessary, I will push for it to be lifted, but I do not want this disease to ravage Waverwell any more than it needs to. I''m with you in that I do not like it, but I know that there can easily be complications and lasting effects long after the disease itself has left a person''s body and there is still the possibility of death. It''s worth it for now."


    "He''s against it cuz he''s got his own free will. Harold can do what he''d like, and that''s that. Free country," Delta muttered, eyes flickering between Cynthia and his phone.


    She shook her head back and forth slowly. Just you try it, she thought to herself, daring him to let his fingers brush the phone.


    Delta sank down in his chair like a scolded child.


    "There''s free country and then there''s being too selfish to accept minor inconveniences for the good of the country." Gabriella crossed her arms across her chest, nails digging into her skin like colorful claws.


    Cynthia held up a hand, silencing Delta before he could speak. "We are clearly getting nowhere. I think it''s safe to say we''re at a bit of a stalemate. Can we agree that we should do something in regard to the disease to help prevent it from spreading further?"


    Cynthia hated how it made it seem like she''d be willing to accept less than what she was originally asking for. She wasn''t, but perhaps that illusion might give Harold a boost to his ego, and maybe with a minor miracle, she would be able to get an agreement on a lockdown. Maybe. It was very wishful thinking, but Cynthia would do what was needed and would take all she could get to be able to walk out of the meeting room with five votes in favor of a country-wide lockdown.


    "I think we can work something out," Linda replied, starting a new page in her notebook.


    "Yeah, sure. Whatever." Delta hunched over the table, picking at his nails.


    "This is not me agreeing to the lockdown, let me make that clear," Harold said. "But I will say... I do think that we should do something about this disease."


    "And what do you have in mind?" Cynthia asked.


    "Funding. We should give the Corville Medical Center money for their research."


    "We''re already do that," Cynthia said. "And they know we will pick up the cost on anything they do not have enough funds for."


    "We should do more of that¡ª give them enough money that they will not have to ask us for anything."


    Gabriella let out a sharp breath. "Harold, that will be useful, but how about something we can do that would help right now. Research is very beneficial and will let us understand this disease, but that will not help right now and will not help keep people from getting infected right now."


    Harold gave Gabriella a sour look.


    "So basically a lockdown is our only option?" Delta asked.


    "A lockdown is what the doctors and researchers at the Corville Medical Center recommend. There is no political motive behind this." Cynthia fished through her stack of documents and pulled out the report, holding it up.


    Harold narrowed his eyes, giving Cynthia a squinty stare that told her he wasn''t convinced on what she was saying.


    "I''m still not sure about that," he said.


    Cynthia was beginning to consider more seriously that she should take the decision of a lockdown to a vote. Three out of five would get her the win. With Delta seemingly considering agreeing, that put her at potentially four out of five since Linda was likely to vote yes. And even if it was just her and Gabriella, she could enforce the lockdown using her Presidential power. But four out of five would help increase the likelihood of the lockdown working successfully¡ª there were beyond the three votes necessary for the win. Getting an entire country to all do one thing was tough, even more so when it would have some inconveniences and would affect virtually every aspect of life. But it could be done.


    A knock on the door kept Cynthia from responding.


    "Come in," she said, racking her brain for who might be at the door.


    She didn''t have any possibilities, but when Seven entered the meeting room, she knew he was not who she would''ve guessed it could be.


    "Hello, Seven," she greeted.


    He offered a small smile. "Hi, Mrs. Pres- er, sorry. Cynthia. May I, uh, speak with you for a-for a moment? I-I apologize for interrupting, but it is... it''s really very important." Seven rocked on his feet, and his fingertips worried at his dress pants, which still seemed a size too big. Cynthia wondered what she would have to do so he could relax and not look so strung up.


    "Yes, Seven. Would you like to speak privately, or is here alright?"


    "I don''t..." he paused for a moment. "Privately?"


    "Ok, we can speak out in the hallway." Cynthia pushed her chair back and stood up.


    Seven nodded, opening the door and holding it as Cynthia walked through.


    "What is it?" Cynthia asked once the door had shut.


    The hallway was empty, silent. The air felt heavy, tense.


    "There''s been another murder." Seven chewed on his lip, mouth twisting into a frown.


    Cynthia froze, and she gave herself several seconds to let things settle in her mind. "There''s been another murder?"


    "Yeah."


    "I''m assuming this is in reference to Ashley Baok''s murder?" Cynthia gave a brief wave to someone as they passed by in the hallway.


    Seven waited until they were gone before responding. "Yeah."


    "Where?"


    "Here in, uh, Corville. Near the shopping center."


    Cynthia narrowed her eyes. As far as she knew, Ashley Baok hadn''t been to Corville. At least not regularly. Waverwell wasn''t all that big ¡ªthe drive from Raconteur to the other side of the country in the Warren could be done in under a day¡ª but killing in two different areas not right next to each other? The locations were so different, a forest and a shopping center, and Cynthia wasn''t sure what sort of connection could be made. Perhaps it was the people and not the place, but Cynthia knew she didn''t have the knowledge to come to any conclusion with any sort of certainty, much less without all of the information.


    "Does the Corville Precinct know who the victim is?"


    "Not yet," Seven said, shaking his head and then running a hand through his shaggy hair when a few locks fell over his eyes.


    "Do they know what the connection is to Ashley Baok?"


    "They''re not sure yet, but there are many similarities in the way the victim was killed. Mostly, uh..." Seven trailed off, and when he continued, his voice was far softer than before. "Mostly it was the... nature of the killing."


    "Nature?" Cynthia echoed.


    "They think it was the Trinity."


    Cynthia swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat. She had only seen pictures of Ashley Baok''s body, ones attached in the files she had forced herself to flip through because she couldn''t stomach the horrors that had been inflicted upon him but knew she was the President of Waverwell and had to. If what this new victim had been through and they were killed by the Trinity... Cynthia could hardly imagine the agony they had suffered.


    She closed her eyes, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe.


    "The Trinity," she murmured. "They think it was the Trinity."


    "Yeah," Seven replied.


    "Can you please tell the Corville Precinct to get in contact with Asa and Azrael Smith, as well as Larson Hotch at the Moonfall Precinct? They will be able to help confirm whether or not this murder was committed by the Trinity."


    Seven nodded. "I will do that right away."


    "Thank you. I am going to go speak with Asa and Azrael Smith."


    Cynthia opened the door to the meeting room again, and all eyes fell on her except Delta''s¡ª he was scrolling on his phone.


    "I need to go. There has been a murder that appears to have similarities to Ashley Baok''s murder. Gabriella, you are now in charge. Let me know the decision you all come from. You know my vote, Gabriella. Linda, please put it in your notes that I have left. Continue on."


    Cynthia quickly made her way back to the President''s Room after bidding Seven farewell.


    Another murder, she thought. She didn''t know if she wanted the Trinity to be responsible or not. Which would be less bad? Could something like this even have a less bad option? There was nothing that could make it good in any sense of the word, she knew that for certain.


    xxxx


    Asa and Azrael Smith picked up on the third ring.


    Cynthia was back in the President''s Room, sitting in her chair at the mahogany desk with her telephone on speaker and a pad of paper turned to a new page at the ready. The hands on the melting clock were nearing eleven at night.


    "Hello?" Asa said.


    "Hello, this is Cynthia Corville."


    There was an immediate rustling, a startled cry followed by a thump, and then a muffled curse.


    "Shush, Az," Asa hissed in a muted voice¡ª she had stepped away from her phone.


    "I know! I just wasn''t expecting a call from the President!"


    "You knew it was a possibility. We''re working for her. Take a second, get yourself together, and then come speak with her. I doubt she''ll bite."


    Cynthia bit back a chuckle but didn''t say anything.


    "My apologies, Mrs. President Corville," Asa said.


    "No worries, and you can call me Cynthia."


    "Oh, right, sorry. You told me that last time." Asa''s voice was hesitant, tentative.


    "There''s been a lot going on."


    "Hell, yeah," Azrael said with a humorless laugh. "Lots going on. I''m assuming you''re calling about the new murder?"


    "I am," Cynthia confirmed. "How much do you know about it?"


    "Probably about the same amount as you do. One victim near the shopping center in Corville, unidentified as of now but that might''ve changed, not much evidence, wounds and manner of death appear similar to Ashley Baok''s injuries, and they''re suspecting the Trinity but can''t conclusively say yet," Asa listed off. "That''s what we know."


    "That''s what I know as well. I''m guessing it would be helpful for you to look at the crime scene?"


    "Yeah, it would be. We''re working on that right now. We''ve been in contact with the Corville Precinct and are communicating with them about our investigation into Ashley Baok''s murder. It''s what started the theory of a second murder by the Trinity."


    "Do you need me to reach out to the Corville Precinct? I can push them if you''re having trouble getting access to the crime scene and their reports."


    "I''m not sure that will be necessary," Azrael replied. "Rift Oberhofer has been assisting in our investigation, and his brother, Ryzor, is the lead detective at the Corville Precinct. I doubt it would really hurt anything, though. It would at least give them a sense of the urgency in this investigation and who they might be looking at as far as suspects go. I mean, you only get involved when it''s something really serious. Whoever killed Ashley Baok is very dangerous."


    "Can I get your honest opinion?" Cynthia couldn''t quite settle the question in her mind.


    "''Course. What is it?" Azrael asked.


    "Do you think this victim really is the second victim of the Trinity?"


    Asa sighed. "I cannot say for certain without seeing all of the information, but I can say that another killing was a very real ¡ªbut very unfortunate¡ª possibility. I can give you a better answer once we head out to Corville and talk with the detectives there. We''ll get a better sense of if this was the job of the Trinity. But-..." she trailed off.


    "But what?" Cynthia pressed.


    "I believe Larson already told you, but we don''t think Ashley Baok''s murder was the first," Azrael said.


    Cynthia thought back to the conversation she''d had with Larson Hotch. He had told her that, and the idea sickened her. One life was too many, but more lives taken meant more families destroyed.


    "You think the Trinity committed murders before Ashley Baok''s?"


    "We believe they did," Asa replied. "We will share more once we''re confident of it and have the evidence we need."


    "Don''t take this the wrong way, but I hope you''re wrong. I trust in your abilities, but I don''t want to hear or any more people dead."


    "Nah, I get it. I don''t want a dead body any more than you do. Sure, we''ll get evidence and all that, but a dead body means someone lost their life and their future and someone''s family just got crushed." Cynthia could almost hear Azrael''s frown and the slow shake of her head from the tone of her voice.


    "Please keep me updated," Cynthia said.


    "Will do."


    "Thank you. I will reach out to Ryzor Oberhofer and get back to you soon on that."


    "I appreciate it, Cynthia," said Asa.


    "Have a nice rest of your evening."


    Azrael laughed. "Past eleven? Not much of an evening, now is it?"


    Cynthia chuckled. "No, I suppose not."


    Cynthia hung up the phone, and an email was waiting in her inbox from Gabriella.


    The lockdown would go into effect the following morning, and all but Harold had voted in favor of it.


    A wave of relief crashed over Cynthia, and a bit of the weight on her shoulders lifted. It wouldn''t solve everything, but it would be enough for now.


    She knew Delta might soon turn against his decision and that Linda would likely only be in favor of the lockdown for as long as it was entirely necessary, but she would take the win.


    It will be enough, she told herself. It had to be.


    xxxx


    It was nearing midnight when Cynthia returned to her room. She opened and shut the door quietly as she snuck inside, and she was glad she did when she saw Charlotte''s slumbering form tucked away beneath the blankets on their bed.


    Waverwell News was playing quietly on the tv as Cynthia crossed the room. She could barely hear the voice of Shaheena Driscoll and Jaymes Haverfield, but the subtitles at the top of the screen let her catch up with the two reporters.


    The biggest story was still the claims made against Leviathan Inc. Ashley Baok''s case was a scrolling headline at the bottom of the screen, mixed in amongst a blurb about the weather and an update about the disease.


    Cynthia skimmed the subtitles as she took off her jacket and set down the documents she''d brought with her to look at in the morning.


    No new information has come to light in support of the claims against Leviathan Inc. that the disease has come as a result of their misuse of Arkreon, and Leviathan Inc. has continued to promote their innocence, citing their rigorous safety protocols. However, some are raising questions over the energy company''s reluctance to let reporters and investigators inside their factories where Arkreon is turned into the energy they provide to much of Waverwell. We will keep you updated as this story unfolds. Leviathan Inc. did not respond to our requests for comments.


    Cynthia sighed and reached out for the remote, turning the tv off with a click. It was time to sleep¡ª the disease, Ashley Baok''s murder, and the claims against Leviathan Inc. were all problems that needed to be solved, but doing so required rest. They would have to wait until tomorrow.


    As quietly as she could, Cynthia changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth.


    Charlotte only stirred as Cynthia eased her way into bed.


    "Sin?" Charlotte grumbled, voice thick with sleep. "That you?"


    "Hey, Char," replied Cynthia. "Go back to sleep."


    "No, you''re here. I want to see you." Charlotte wiped her eyes and sat up, propping pillows against the headboard. Her jaws parted in a massive yawn, but she stayed awake.


    I''m right here, Cynthia wanted to say, but she knew what her wife was really saying: I have hardly seen you these past few weeks. You''re here now, and I want to spend time with you before we fall asleep and you have to be away for so long tomorrow.


    Cynthia was beyond tired and her brain could hardly string two coherent thoughts together with how much time she had spent trying to puzzle out seemingly impossible problems, but she was here now with her wife. She wanted to sleep, but she missed her wife. Charlotte meant everything to her, and so it wasn''t a hard decision at all.


    "Come here," Cynthia said, wrapping an arm around Charlotte''s shoulders.


    "Hey," Charlotte murmured, snuggling in against Cynthia''s side.


    "Hey," Cynthia replied, an exchange that echoed the first time they had met when they were teenagers.


    They sat together, cuddled up as the stars blanketed Corville and silence clung to the hollow streets, no cars to be heard in the dead of the night.


    Waverwell would shut down tomorrow, and the emptiness would carry over to the day. No more bustling crowds for the first time in Cynthia''s memory.

 me84 - Chapter 7 - Chad Malcolm - The Doors Will Start Up Again

    Chapter 7


    CHAD MALCOLM


    Chad Malcolm was angry. Frustrated beyond simple annoyance. It had gotten to the point that a smoldering fire was heating up in his gut, embers flaring in brilliant colors. He was a teakettle about to boil over.


    The whistleblower was still unidentified, and that... well, it really pissed him off.


    He had a company to run, and those claims ¡ªthose false claims¡ª were giving him hell. Customers had been lost, and therefore money. Leviathan Inc.''s name no longer held the same status, was no longer associated with the same trust Chad and Darcy had worked so hard to build. He could get his company there again, but it would take time and work. And he knew he''d never be able to fully iron out that little wrinkle that whistleblower had caused.


    Chad inhaled and then exhaled a slow, fiery breath.


    Someone was going to get fired. He didn''t know who, and he didn''t know when, but someone was getting fired. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, but it was happening.


    No, Chad silently corrected himself. No firing anyone out of anger.


    Leviathan Inc. had already lost employees due to the claims¡ª two-week notices had been handed in and some just up and left without warning. It was mainly lower-level employees who were more easily replaced, but employees had been lost. Chad could not fire anyone without good reason. It would not look good for his company.


    Deep breaths. Inhale, hold, exhale, hold. Calm down. This is getting out of hand.


    Chad and Darcy had been looking into possible employees who might''ve been the whistleblower. Malibu had been working with the tech department to analyze the possible employees and cross off those who didn''t fit the criteria.


    After what Chad had been hoping would be a short search for the whistleblower turned into a drawn-out hunt, Chad had devoted himself almost entirely to tracking down this person. Darcy, in all of her understanding and willingness to help, had taken on running the entire company while Chad tracked down new information. He would catch the whistleblower. He would not stop. This person had shaved down the time he could spend with his stunning wife to next to nothing. This person had tried to take down the company he had spent so long building.


    Although a challenge in searching for the whistleblower was that it had become increasingly obvious that they were skilled at hiding that part of their identity.


    And so he was left with potentially ninety-thousand suspects. He didn''t like that.


    Chad leaned back in his desk chair, and the joints of it creaked with the sharp movement. He looked around his office, eyes trailing across the blank walls, save for a clock and a few framed newspaper cutouts of their opening and their successes. Across the room, Darcy''s desk was empty¡ª she was out at a meeting to try to control the fallout over the claims.


    Perhaps a change of plans was needed in the search for the whistleblower.


    Maybe someone in Leviathan Inc. knew something.


    Maybe someone had seen something.


    Chad sat upright, placing a hand on his desk. Yes, that could be it, he thought.


    He riffled through the stacks of paper scattered across his desk in messy piles he hadn''t yet dealt with, but when he didn''t find something blank he could write on, he swiped at the papers, sending them ruffling through the air and falling to the ground. Only after he''d nearly cleared the desk of everything except for his computer, coffee, and filing shelves did he manage to come across a little notebook, half empty and beat up. But it would work.


    In a quick motion, Chad flipped it open to its first blank page.


    Who would be the most likely to see something? Chad asked himself, and he wrote that down in scrawling letters.


    But the thought soon turned into who would be the most likely to interact with lots of people? Who would have the most opportunities to notice potential suspicious people?


    Chad''s pen hovered over the page, mind annoyingly devoid of any ideas. He knew there were people who, by nature of their job, would come into contact with a wide variety of people.


    His desk had a cool touch to it when he rested his elbows on it and cradled his chin in his palms, nibbling on the end of his pen. There was someone. There had to be. He had been stuck in the same frustrating place for far too long, and he needed a new direction to take. He needed to put this bump in the road behind him before it turned into a mountain that flipped his company on its back, soft stomach exposed.


    The silence in his office was nearly audible. Chad had pushed for the walls of his office to be thick, to muffle the sounds of people chatting, of meetings taking place, of those obnoxious little pencil sharpeners that were like nails on a chalkboard, just grating against his ear-.


    No, he told himself firmly. Stay on task.


    "Take a deep breath and focus," he whispered to himself in the quiet of his office. The clock on the wall ticked along, half a soothing presence that gave him something to hold onto in reality and half an infuriating sound that made him want to fling it across the room like a frisbee.


    Chad wished Darcy was with him. One smile from his wife, and any stress or worry he was feeling would just melt away. One touch from his wife, and any buzzing in his head would settle. She could read a dictionary, and he''d know that everything would be ok in the end.


    His coffee had long since gone cold, but he still took a sip from it. Maybe the caffeine would be the boost his brain needed.


    And perhaps it really was¡ª what couldn''t have been more than two minutes after he finished off his cup of coffee, the thought crossed his mind.


    "Reception," he breathed. "Of course! They just sit there all day and watch people. If anyone saw anything, it would be those who work at the front desk."


    Chad scrambled up out of his chair, and it was a miracle he didn''t trip and fall on his face. The door to his office nearly slammed into the wall as he hurried out into the hallway, all but sprinting to the elevators. He pressed the down button again and again and again, as if it would make the elevator come any sooner.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The ride down to the lobby of the Corville Leviathan Inc. headquarters seemed to take hours, although Chad knew it was little more than about ten or twenty seconds. He took the time to straighten his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles and buttoning the cuffs of his sleeves. He knew Darcy would''ve chastised him if he hadn''t. You need to look sharp, she would''ve said. You shouldn''t be running a company when you look like you just slept in your dress clothes.


    Once the elevator stopped moving and the doors opened, Chad was greeted with a relatively empty lobby. Only a handful of people occupied the space, sitting on the chairs and couches. Waiting for someone to meet them, Chad guessed. A few were looking over brochures that were arranged on the tables in the middle of the seating areas.


    It used to be bustling. The revolving doors at the entrance used to only stop after closing¡ª people used to constantly be coming and going. But as Chad paused and watched those spinning glass panes slow after someone walked through, they came to a complete stop and stayed that way.


    I will get them moving again. They will move faster than ever. I will have to fund extra doors to accommodate the volume of people at the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc., Chad vowed. Those doors will start up again.


    xxxx


    Freya Fisk worked at reception.


    She wore a loose blouse that had a floral pattern, and her name tag printed with the Leviathan Inc. serpent logo and her name had a little songbird sticker stuck to the blank part on the right. A dusting of freckles were sprinkled across her nose and cheekbones. Her curly hair had been pulled up into a messy bun that was now starting to fall, and locks of frizzy hair stuck out to the sides.


    Her name tag wasn''t technically following the rules since it wasn''t supposed to be decorated, but Chad would overlook it¡ª he needed Freya''s help.


    "Hello," he said, approaching her desk.


    Freya immediately looked up from her computer, fingers ceasing typing as she offered a warm smile. "Hello! How may I help you?"


    "Hello," Chad repeated. "I have a few questions."


    "You have come to the right place. I can assist with whatever you need. May I ask your name?"


    "I''m Chad Malcolm."


    Freya paused, and Chad could see the exact moment where she realized who she was talking to. Her face flushed a deep scarlet, and she stiffened. Chad kept his expression flat as he watched her swallow thickly and hold back a panicked reaction.


    "Oh, my!" she said after a controlled exhale. "I sincerely apologize, Mr. Malcolm! I didn''t recognize you!" Freya placed a hand on her chest, drawing in a sharp breath.


    "I have some questions I was hoping you could answer."


    "Of course, Mr. Malcolm. I can help with any questions you have, and if I do not know the answer, I will find out for you right away."


    "Wonderful. Have you seen anything recently?" Chad rested his forearms on the high desk. He plucked a pen from the basket and reached over her computer to take one of the notecards from Freya''s collection. She watched with wide eyes but didn''t say anything.


    "Have I seen anything?"


    "Yes."


    "Could you please be more specific, Mr. Malcolm? I am more than happy to help, but I''m afraid I do not quite understand what you are asking."


    "As I''m sure you know, there were those... claims made about Arkreon."


    "I have heard about them," Freya murmured slowly.


    "Have you seen anything unusual since then?"


    Freya pursed her lips, eyes scanning the lobby. There were only a scattering of people that Chad could count on one hand. Anger curled in his gut, a prickly little demon that he would feed until he found the whistleblower.


    "I mean," Freya said, drawing Chad''s attention back to her. "I''ve seen that there are fewer people here, and I have opened far more hate mail for the company than usual. Many more people have come in to give rude comments than usual as well. But if you''re looking for specific people acting out of the ordinary, I haven''t really noticed anything. I''m sorry. I wish I could be of more help, Mr. Malcolm."


    Chad hummed.


    Freya sat back in her chair. "Well, I may have actually seen something, Mr. Malcolm."


    "What is it?" Chad leaned forward, forearms on the top of Freya''s desk.


    "I saw these three people outside the doors a couple of times. I never really thought too much of it, but I have seen them several times."


    Chad''s heart sank. He had been hoping for something more, but he would take it.


    But perhaps he could press her, learn more. Maybe he should''ve bought that book on how to get information out of people, like they did in those police shows Darcy had once binge-watched.


    "Have you seen anyone acting unusual? Any people acting out of the ordinary?"


    "My brother drank too much, but I''m pretty sure he just had a rough week." Freya laughed at what Chad guessed was some sort of inside joke. "But other than that, Mr. Malcolm, not that I can think of. I haven''t noticed an increase in paid leave days taken or in people just not showing up to work without communication. I could compile those into a list for you, if you''d like."


    "Yes," Chad replied. "I would like that."


    "Ok, I can do that. I can talk with my brother and have him walk me through it."


    "Who is your brother?"


    "His name is Felix. Felix Fisk. He works here in tech support."


    Chad paused. Tech support.


    "Send me his contact information. I''d like him to help me with something."


    Freya smiled, although there was a flash of tightness that crossed her eyes before being replaced by the pleasant warmth one would give to a customer. "I can absolutely do that, Mr. Malcolm. I will send that information your way as soon as I can."


    "Make it quick, Freya. I need it."


    "Of course, Mr. Malcolm."


    Chad gave a curt nod at Freya''s response. He patted the top of her desk with an open palm before casting one last distasteful look at the lobby, still far too empty compared to how it once was.


    The doors will be moving once more. They will start up again, he told himself. They will not stop moving.


    xxxx


    The elevator ride back up to Chad''s office went faster.


    Really it was the same length, but it felt faster. There wasn''t the waiting, the standing still and not doing that he hated so much.


    Darcy was sitting at her desk when Chad opened the door, manicured nails tapping away on her phone. "Oh, hello, honey," she said when Chad walked in. "I was wondering where you were. I was just about to call you, actually. All those papers on the ground had me worried and you weren''t responding to my messages."


    "It wouldn''t have done you much good, Darcy," he replied, plucking his phone up from his desk where it had been laying, half hidden beneath one of the organizers that stored stacks of folders. "I left in a hurry and forgot to bring my phone."


    "Maybe we need to get you a bungee cord. I''d be devastated if I lost you." She stood up from her chair and walked between the couches in the middle of the room, placing her hands on Chad''s chest. He wrapped his hands around her wrists, fingers resting over hers.


    "Maybe we do." A smile curled at the edges of Chad''s lips. He melted in Darcy''s gaze, and her palms were like brands on his skin, fiery hot, but he welcomed the heat.


    "Would you care to explain why most of your desk is on the ground, though?" Darcy looked over Chad''s shoulder.


    He huffed a short laugh. "Well... let''s just say that I got... very into my latest plan on identifying the whistleblower."


    Darcy laughed, and it was like music to his ears. A song he wanted to record so he could play it again and again and again.


    "Do I want to know what your plan is? Or should I just leave you to it?"


    Chad moved his hands from Darcy''s so he could wrap his arms around her waist.


    "We have so many employees that I felt I had no realistic way to go through all ninety-thousand of them one by one. So I asked our receptionist in our lobby, Freya Fisk, about if she had seen anyone suspicious. Upon my request, she sent me a list of those who have taken sick days or paid leave days. And she sent me the contact information for her brother, Felix, who works in tech support."


    Darcy hummed. "That''s wonderful, my love. I think we are truly on our way to rebuilding our company."


    "I agree, darling." Chad leaned in for a kiss, pressing his lips to Darcy''s.


    xxxx


    Chad''s computer dinged about an hour later.


    When he looked at it, his inbox had an unread email from Freya.


    She sure works fast, Chad thought.


    She had included a link to a spreadsheet with employees who had taken sick days and paid leave days organized in neat lists. Felix Fisk''s contact information had also been included.


    This was what Chad needed. Perhaps this would be the break he needed, and now all of the pieces would fall into place. His previous attempts at finding out the whistleblower''s identity had failed. That was ok¡ª no one was perfect. But now he had a new direction.


    This time will work, Chad told himself. I will prove both my innocence and Darcy''s innocence, and we will rebuild our empire. The doors will start up again.

 me84 - Chapter 8 - Ferris Dipper - By the End of the Episode

    Chapter 8


    FERRIS DIPPER


    When Ferris Dipper woke up the morning after receiving the email from someone he sincerely hoped was actually named Felix Fisk, he wanted to curl right back up and go into hibernation for the next month.


    He was exhausted physically, mentally, and especially emotionally. He had done less since Ashley''s murder than he had done in the last year, perhaps less than he had done in his whole life. He had not chased after an offender since Pyr Iskie''s arrest, he had not been constantly working around camp, he had not been on his feet all day except to eat, and he had barely done anything that could count in the loosest of terms as exercise. Most of his days had been spent trying to get one little task done and the rest had been spent trying to seem like he was busy.


    But he still knew that if he closed his eyes, he could slip right back into a deep sleep.


    And despite how tempting the thought was, he knew he had to get up and, at a minimum, try.


    Things needed to get done, and he at least had to attempt each one.


    His alarm continued to sound to the tune of a song that he had once enjoyed but now disliked since it always meant he had to remove himself from the warmth of his blankets, and he reached out to his phone and turned it off, then got out of bed with a long stretch.


    Ferris was the first one in the kitchen, and the house was silent. It wasn''t a surprise that he was the only one up; it happened frequently.


    Sunlight trickled through the windows in the living area, blanketing the couch and coffee table in a soft glow. The first chirps of the birds had already begun, and they would continue as the early morning gave way to midday.


    Ferris started a pot of coffee, making as much as the machine could since he knew the rest of NYTE would want some. It used to be at least two whole pots, filled until they were nearly overflowing, and often three pots before everyone had gotten their fill of caffeine. But now, without Ashley, there had been some left over in the second batch, and no one had the heart to drink it. Something just felt off about consuming what would''ve been Ashley''s morning cup of coffee. Most often, the pot sat there on the counter; no one wanted to dump it down the sink, but no one wanted to drink it.


    As the coffee machine whirred to life, Ferris plucked the tv remote from the coffee table and turned on the news. He kept the volume on low and turned on the subtitles.


    Shaheena Driscoll sat at the Waverwell News desk in a tight-fitting dress and a gold necklace. A stack of papers were neatly stacked in front of her.


    "Good morning, Waverwell," she said. "We are coming to you live from Raconteur, and I hope you are all doing well on this bright and sunny morning. I am Shaheena Driscoll."


    The camera panned out from being zoomed in on just her.


    "And I am Jaymes Haverfield." He wore a grey suit and a burgundy tie. "Let''s get right to it: Breaking overnight¡ª a country-wide lockdown is now in effect, put into place just last night by Cynthia Corville after she and the rest of Waverwell government''s top officials took the decision to a vote, where all but Harold Morris voted in favor of the action in response to the disease rampaging through the country. When asked by reporters, Harold said that he felt the impact of the lockdown on the economy would be too great and that it would cause massive lasting effects for the years, and possibly decades, to come."


    After placing two slices of bread in the toaster, Ferris walked out of the kitchen to stand behind the couch, arms on its back.


    "What does this lockdown mean for Waverwell?" Shaheena asked. "It means that you will be spending a lot more time in your homes. Doctors are still learning more about this disease, and are asking you all to stay home. They say that, for now, this is the best thing you can do to keep both yourself and your loved ones safe, as well as those around you and in your communities.


    "In a message from the Corville Medical Center, you do not need to panic. This disease is very different from those doctors already know about, but they are researching it tirelessly. Those who are sick with it have had mostly mild cases, and there have been no known deaths from the disease as of yet. Doctors are advising everyone to take this seriously and do your part by staying at home and practicing good hygiene, but they are saying that there is no need to panic.


    "We will continue to give you more information as we become aware of it, and on our website, you can learn more. We have also added links to the Corville Medical Center and the report given by Cynthia Corville on the lockdown."


    Just as Ferris''s toast popped up, the camera shifted to Jaymes. Ferris turned and walked back into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and prepare his toast.


    "Another breaking story also out of Corville," Jaymes said. "A body was discovered yesterday by some customers at the Corville shopping center. Lead detective Ryzor Oberhofer of the Corville Precinct has offered little information about the body, but it has been confirmed to be a murder and sources are saying that the Moonfall Precinct has gotten into contact with Ryzor, leading some to question whether or not there may be a connection to the murder of Ashley Baok from just a few weeks ago."


    Ferris slowly looked up at the tv with a frown, setting down his knife and the piece of toast he was spreading butter on.


    A connection to Ashley? He asked himself as he crossed the room back to the tv.


    He had never thought he would ever be a part of some tangled-up mystery like this¡ª as a kid, the only murder mysteries he had seen could always be puzzled out by the end of the episode, with the help of some key piece of information hidden away in a drawer or locked away in the depths of someone''s mind. Everything would be solved with a neat little bow, and everything would move on.


    But it''s not the case here, he thought bitterly as he sat down on the couch to focus on the news. Even when Ashley''s murder got solved and those responsible got thrown in jail with the key tossed away forever, nothing would be the same again. Ashley wouldn''t come back to life. The rest of Waverwell might move on to the next big story. They might forget Ashley even existed until someone shared a post on Muse, asking hey, remember this story from a while ago? It was a crazy one!


    But there would be no moving on for NYTE.


    There might be some semblance of recovery and coming to terms with the fact that his friend had his life ripped away from him in the worst way possible, but it wasn''t something he could ever forget and let go, as if he''d lost his favorite pair of shoes. It would always be there, just out of view in his mind, ready for whenever his thoughts wandered or when the wound had finally begun to scab over.


    "Early this morning, the victim was identified as twenty-three-year-old Alaska Wendell March," Jaymes said as the camera zoomed out and an image of Alaska showed up on the screen behind him. Alaska was smiling as she held a small dog, and her tawny hair framed her face. "Her friends and family say she was kind and caring and loved walking her dogs and spending time with loved ones. She was last seen three days ago as she was leaving work, and after a long search, it ended in the way everyone was hoping and praying it wouldn''t turn out to be. A friend from her job shared this message on Muse: Alaska, it doesn''t feel real that you are gone. I keep thinking I''m going to see you. I''m so sorry. I hope you''re in a better place now. You were an amazing friend, and I already miss you so, so much. I wish we could''ve gotten more time together."


    Ferris paused the tv.


    He raced into his room, tiptoeing so as not to disturb anyone¡ª the house was still silent.


    He opened his laptop, typed in his password, and opened up his email. The draft of his message to Larson Hotch was nearing completion.


    Hello, Detective Larson Hotch


    This is Ferris Dipper.


    Yesterday Kristin Baok received an email from someone claiming to be the witness to Ashley Baok''s murder. They said their name is Felix Fisk.


    I don''t know if they''re really the witness, although I certainly hope they are. I have attached the email Kristin received. There isn''t anything in there that only the witness would know as far as I could tell. I''m not sure if it will yield anything new, but I hope it will provide something for you.


    Let me know if there is anything I can do to aid in your investigation into Ashley''s murder.


    Ferris Dipper


    He skimmed it one more time, then sent it after adding the email Kristin had received.


    Hopefully it would lead to something.


    Because... well, it had to lead to something.


    Ferris couldn''t go down the road of this not panning out into useful information and being left right where things started in the search for Ashley''s killers. He couldn''t let the idea take root. What type of person would he be if he just let his friend''s killers walk free? He couldn''t do it. He had to find them, whoever they were and wherever they were.


    It was a minor miracle Ferris had Asa and Azrael Smith''s contact information¡ª he didn''t remember ever getting an email address for them.


    He typed into the address bar.


    He was certain that Asa and Azrael already knew of the second murder. If Larson knew like Jaymes had said on Waverwell News, wouldn''t Asa and Azrael have been informed as well?


    After Ashley''s death, the then-SFPU had been told that they could reach out with any questions, that they would be kept informed, never be left in the dark. Would this second murder still fall under that umbrella?


    Ferris wasn''t reaching out over morbid curiosity, that twisted little instinct that made you slow down to look at a car accident, although that got destroyed in him after his fathers'' deaths. Now he looked away in shows and movies whenever there was a crash, his mind coming up with countless ways his parents might have felt in those last few moments.


    Ferris was reaching out over the need to help get his friend some justice and hold his killers accountable. That made it ok, right? Just like with sending the email from possibly a Felix Fisk to Larson, asking Asa and Azrael about this new murder and a possible connection to Ashley was looking for answers, searching anywhere that might yield even a crumb, because a crumb was better than nothing.


    After losing his parents, Ferris had moped around in his house for weeks, barely leaving. It was like he''d been somewhere between life and death, technically alive but only in the medical sense¡ª heart beating, brain functioning. But he might as well have been a ghost. He hardly remembered those weeks, where he''d done little more than lay in bed and walk aimlessly through the hallways, avoiding his fathers'' bedroom.


    Only after he had buried his fathers did he begin to climb out of the hole he''d been in and realize that Tony and Toby wouldn''t have wanted this of him. He knew he had told Kristin that he couldn''t speak for Ashley, but all those months ago, he knew his fathers would''ve wanted him to try to live.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    It was what sparked him to write that letter to Cynthia that there was something wrong with the laws against poaching, something wrong with Silverlight Forest, something Ferris could help fix. He had all but known it would barely even get to the Waverwell government building in Corville, wouldn''t even get close to Cynthia''s desk, but by some miracle it did, and Cynthia replied. From there, the SFPU had been created.


    Ferris had wondered again and again that if he had never reached out, would Ashley still be alive?


    But without answers as to who murdered him, Ferris had no way of knowing. It made his heart twist in his chest, made bile rise in his throat, made his fingers clench into fists as he gritted his teeth. Tears burned in his eyes, but he blinked them away rapidly.


    He had shed enough tears already. Now it was time to put his head down and get to work. He needed to find who murdered Ashley so they could be brought to justice, tried against a jury, and locked away until the end of time.


    If there really was a connection to Alaska Wendell March''s murder, maybe something would be found that could lead both Ashley and Alaska to get justice.


    Ferris turned his attention back to his computer screen, where the cursor still flashed next to


    Dear Asa and Azrael Smith,


    This is Ferris Dipper.


    As I''m sure you have probably heard, there has been another murder. There seems to be a possible connection to Ashley Baok?


    I am not sure how it would work with the lockdown, but would it be possible to meet and discuss this?


    Please let me know and we can work out a time to meet.


    Thank you!


    Ferris Dipper


    With a sigh, Ferris leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms up over his head and arching his back.


    We will find who did this, he told himself. Just take a deep breath and keep it all together.


    He sent the email.


    He had a plan now, a clearer path forward. It settled his mind. Searching for his friend''s killer was something he never thought he''d have to do, but he was now doing it.


    xxxx


    "Oh, hey, Ferris," Ren said as he returned to the kitchen.


    "Hey," he replied on autopilot, brushing past them to retrieve his now long cold toast.


    "You left the news on, and I saw there was another murder. A lockdown, too."


    "Yeah, I already reached out to Asa and Azrael to see if there''s really a connection. And yeah, there''s a lockdown. Not supposed to go outside without a reason. Well, outside meaning into Moonfall. The middle of Silverlight Forest probably doesn''t really count." Ferris took a big bite out of one of the pieces of toast.


    "Oh, there''s a connection?" Ren echoed.


    "Yeah, a possible connection to Ashley''s murder."


    "What?" Kristin asked, walking into the living area from his room.


    "There was another murder yesterday. The victim''s name was Alaska Wendell March. There might be a connection to Ashley since it might''ve been the Trinity. I emailed Asa and Azrael to ask about what they knew." Ferris took another bite.


    "You couldn''t have waited? We could''ve looked into this as a group," Kristin said.


    Ferris paused, setting down his plate. He swallowed before replying. "I was going to tell you. And we can still look into it. It''s not an either-or situation."


    "Yeah..." Kristin trailed off before starting over. "How much do you know?"


    "What do you mean?" Ferris frowned.


    "How much do you know? It''s obvious you''ve been doing your own little investigation."


    Ferris forced down the hackles that arose at Kristin''s borderline accusatory tone. "Of course I''ve been doing research on my own! Ashley got murdered, and I can''t just sit around here and do nothing!"


    "So how much do you know?" Kristin asked again. "Let''s just get everything out on the table. You know stuff about my brother that you''ve just been keeping to yourself. So, once and for all, let''s just get it all out there."


    "Fine," Ferris sighed, pulling a chair out from the table and sitting down, deflating like a punctured balloon. He put his hands on his cheeks as he hunched over.


    "I don''t think I really know any more than the rest of you. I know Ashley was murdered by the Trinity, whoever they are. I don''t know their identities, although I sure would like to. I know there''s something in his journals, but I can''t find the piece that will bring it all together. I mean, he wouldn''t have gone to the lengths he did by creating the Caspian Lyon persona, the Caspian Lyon account on Muse, and publishing a whole book called Pockets of Gold and Silver, all over nothing. There''s something there. If Alaska really was killed by the Trinity, then there''s gotta be something connecting her to Ashley. I doubt it''ll be some big, bold thing though. Probably some small, random little thing no one would think to look at. The Trinity''s good... unfortunately good. I know the Moonfall Precinct and the task force are the ones who can really hunt down Ashley''s murderers, but I also can''t just sit around here and twiddle my thumbs all day. It''s going to destroy me."


    "You couldn''t have told us what you were doing? We could''ve looked at it together."


    Ferris couldn''t look up to face Kristin head on. He shook his head. "I''m sorry. I just... I couldn''t sit around all day. I''m sorry."


    It was the truth. He really was. He knew he wasn''t thinking straight. Ashley''s death was a blow all on its own, and losing him brought up all of the memories of losing his parents that he thought he had gotten over and worked through.


    "I was trying to help. I should have told you what I was doing, and the more eyes on something, the better. I apologize. This... this is a really tough time for all of us, and I know I''m not in the best headspace."


    Kristin groaned. "Quit being so calm. You''re always so... so careful with your wording."


    Ferris shrugged in reply.


    But before he could respond out loud, his phone buzzed.


    When Ferris pulled it out of his pocket, a reply from Asa and Azrael was awaiting him.


    "Can they come?" Ren asked, placing their dishes in the sink and reaching for the tap.


    "Yeah, this afternoon if we''re able," Ferris said. "They''re happy to discuss the details of the case that they can talk about, since both Ashley and Alaska''s cases are open and they need to keep some of the details within law enforcement. With the lockdown, we''ll have to meet outside and at a distance. Us living in the middle of Silverlight Forest helps with that."


    "Great," Kristin murmured. "We''ll get more information."


    He didn''t sound as enthusiastic as Ferris thought he usually would, but he supposed it also made sense¡ª they were going to be discussing his brother''s death. There wouldn''t be a normal reaction to that sort of thing, especially considering his brother had died in about the most unnatural way possible.


    Ferris crossed back into the kitchen and swept his coffee mug off the counter, refilling it and then downing its contents just as Charlie wandered out of her room, muffling a yawn behind her hand. Zip followed a few paces behind her.


    "I was, like, half listening in my room. Just to clear things up: Another person got murdered and there might be a connection to Ashley, there''s a lockdown so we all gotta stay at home, and Asa and Azrael are coming over later?" Charlie asked as she opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk.


    "Yeah," Ferris said. "Asa and Azrael are coming over this afternoon."


    "Have some coffee with your milk," Ren murmured, a slight smile on their face.


    "Was that a joke from you, Ren?" Charlie snickered as she stirred her drink, hip propped up against the counter.


    "Sort of," they replied.


    xxxx


    Ferris wasn''t sure he would''ve pinned Asa and Azrael as siblings at first glance; Azrael had wild and fiery red hair with freckles splattered across her face and a big presence that reminded him of Charlie. Asa, despite being about the same size as her sister, felt smaller. She had a careful expression on her face as she took in every aspect of her surroundings, trailing behind her sister who had blazed ahead. Her straight brown hair had been cut in a straight line at her shoulders, and it brushed her long coat that swept across the backs of her legs with every step.


    But he supposed that a part of it might have been that much of his experience with the idea of siblings had been with Kristin and Ashley¡ª identical twins. As a child in Cloverleaf, he hadn''t seen too many families with more than one child; it was uncommon since most people who lived in the city worked in the mines, and there was neither the time nor the money to dedicate to more than one child.


    It was something his fathers had talked about. They both had wanted a big family, but their paychecks could only stretch so far. So instead they turned their attention to Ferris and gave him the best childhood they could, something Ferris had always been grateful for.


    Charlie opened the gate to the courtyard of the camp and let in Asa and Azrael. The two sisters drove a big, black car that was somehow also oddly discreet. Ferris thought that if he saw it driving down the road, his eyes would just slide right over it without ever realizing he''d actually seen it.


    "Hey, Ferris," Azrael said with a wave as she hopped out of the passenger side and approached the NYTE house. "Wish I could''ve been here under better circumstances."


    "Yeah, me too. We''ll be out here." Ferris gestured to the courtyard, where a ring of chairs had been arranged in a circle, all spread far apart and taking up a large portion of the space.


    "Oh, awesome." She pulled two of the chairs closer together and sat down in one. Asa followed suit after rearranging some papers in her briefcase.


    "So, I''m not sure if you''ve heard," Asa started, "but there was another murder."


    Kristin remained stone-faced, but Ferris saw the slight twitch in his cheek. A clench of his jaw that was his tell¡ª he had done some more research on what little there was about Alaska''s murder. The look he gave Asa was less of an even stare and more of a glare, although Ferris knew there wasn''t any anger behind it.


    "Saw it on Muse," Charlie said, voice edging toward a drawl. "Sucky."


    Azrael widened her eyes briefly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Something like that."


    "Anyway, we''ve been in contact with Ryzor at the Corville Precinct since there is what we''re now believing is a very likely connection to Ashley."


    Kristin''s knuckles paled as he tightened his hands into fists. He took a slow, jagged breath that was exhaled through teeth.


    "You''re telling me," Kristin said, face hidden in his hands, "that the same people who murdered my brother have done it again?" His voice was low, and there was a sharp edge to it.


    Zip narrowed his eyes, fingers pausing from assembling and disassembling a pen he''d had in his pocket.


    Asa paused, mulling over the words. "Yes," she said. "Unfortunately, we believe so."


    "Well, why haven''t you caught them yet? For God''s sake, there''s three of them! Aren''t most criminals just working alone? Why can''t you catch three... three-. Three monsters? They need to-to pay!" The words caught in Kristin''s throat, and he swallowed, voice cracking when he continued. He jumped to his feet, kicking at his chair and sending it skittering away.


    "I''m going inside," he grumbled before stalking away, hands fisting in his hair. The door to the NYTE house slammed shut behind him, rattling on its hinges.


    An apology was on Ferris''s tongue, but Azrael waved a hand at him. "He''s got every reason to be furious. Don''t worry ''bout it."


    "We''re somewhat used to it," Asa added. "Many of the people we talk with, they''re going through the toughest time in their lives. People aren''t in full control of their emotions when they''re trying to cope with that. I can''t ever blame someone who''s going through this for snapping. You don''t have anything to worry about. Feel your emotions. It never goes well bottling them up."


    Something flickered across Charlie''s face, but Ferris didn''t press. Her arms were crossed across her chest and she was slumped back in her chair, eyes hard and dark.


    Zip pulled his legs up onto his chair, crossing them and hunching over as he ceased toying with the pen and instead tugged apart the laces of his shoes to retie them.


    Asa waited for Ferris to nod before continuing. "We cannot get into too many details, but we do know how important it is for you to stay up-to-date on what''s happening. Ashley was a close friend of yours and was Kristin''s brother. I hope you can understand that some details we cannot share, both to protect Alaska''s privacy since her investigation is separate from Ashley''s as of right now, and because some aspects we need to keep under lock and key to make sure that we catch the right people. We want to arrest and prosecute those responsible just as much as you do, but we need to make sure it''s done right."


    "Yeah, we get that," Charlie said.


    "Alright." Asa smiled. "So Alaska''s body was found yesterday by the Corville shopping center. The Corville Precinct is still looking for more evidence at the scene and is in the process of speaking with friends and family to gather more information, but the biggest reason we''re suspecting that she was murdered by the Trinity is simply because of her injuries. I will not go into detail since I don''t feel it''s necessary and I don''t think you want to know, but they... they were horrific, and they have similarities to those Ashley suffered."


    "Was there also a lack of evidence left behind like at Ashley''s crime scene?" Ren asked. "I heard there was little there."


    "We were speaking with Ryzor on our way in here, and it seems that way."


    "Do you know what similarities there might between Ashley and Alaska?" Ferris asked. "Kristin''s probably a better person for this, but I hadn''t heard of Alaska before today, and I can''t recall Ashley ever mentioning someone named Alaska."


    Azrael sighed. "Yeah, so I was digging into her life last night, looking at that. And while there''s only so much internet scouring one can do in an evening, there''s nothing I''ve been able to find that connects Alaska and Ashley, apart from both having names that start with the letter ''A''. Living in Waverwell, too, I suppose, but that''s to be expected. That''s not me confirming there is nothing, please understand that¡ª it''s just me saying there''s nothing that I''ve found so far."


    Charlie pursed her lips, and Ferris knew her mind had locked onto something.


    "So what are you doing right now to find the Trinity?" She asked.


    Azrael seemed unsurprised by the question. "We''re examining all of the evidence we''ve found and are formulating an idea on who the hell these people might be. We are also retracing Ashley''s steps during his time in Moonfall and are going through security tapes in stores to see who interacted with him and if we can get any clues. And, last I heard, Larson was compiling a list of questions to ask you as a follow-up to the interviews he did shortly after Ashley''s death. He might reach out to you."


    Ferris let his gaze fall to his interlaced fingers. He ran his thumb across his knuckles.


    See, he told himself. They''re looking. You can look too, but the experts are searching and they have a plan.


    He didn''t know how Alaska''s murder would change things, but he had trust that the Corville Precinct would be able to work everything out and that if it was determined that she had been murdered by the Trinity and they joined forces with Asa and Azrael and the Moonfall Precinct, that they''d be able to get to the bottom of the Trinity and what had happened to Ashley.


    Alaska, too, he added. Her friends and family deserved answers as well.


    We''ll find the Trinity, Ashley, Ferris said silently, willing his friend to hear. We''ll find everything you were trying to tell us in your journal, and then we''ll tell everyone, just like you asked.

 me84 - Chapter 9 - Zip Furr - Deannas Bakery

    Chapter 9


    ZIP FURR


    Zip Furr could feel himself toeing the edge of a meltdown.


    One of the ones with the tears and crying, the lashing out like a cornered coyote, the clawing at skin because it felt a hundred sizes too small, the sputtering of words because he couldn''t figure out what was going on in his head. One of the massive ones.


    But Zip was still far enough away that he could prevent it, turn himself around from the steady journey toward the edge of the cliff. Still distant enough that its pull wasn''t too strong.


    He had always struggled with coping. The world had never made sense, and now it made even less sense. He had thought he''d finally found his place, but now he wasn''t so sure.


    He knew the SFPU was where he was supposed to be. It was the only place where he could truly begin to relax, to let his guard down, to not get so tense whenever he slipped up. He hadn''t found that anywhere else.


    But now most of that was gone¡ª Kristin was still there, as was the rest of NYTE, but without Ashley, nothing was the same.


    After Pyr Iskie, Zip hadn''t gone hunting for poachers. There wasn''t the usual hustle and bustle in the camp.


    If anything, the camp just felt still, like someone had hit pause on the remote and walked away. It felt alien, like Zip was back in the rest of Waverwell, away from the haven that was the camp.


    xxxx


    After Asa and Azrael had left, Zip had closed himself in his workshop. He let himself get lost in the process of building Hades, mind wonderfully blank and hands working on autopilot, already knowing what to do next. He could feel the tension slowly bleeding from his body, the tremble in his breath easing a little more with each twist of a bolt, each connection of a wire, each line of code written.


    Zip leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms up above his head after sitting hunched over at his computer. His spine popped as he arched his back. A quick glance at the clock in the corner of the screen told him almost two and a half hours had passed by.


    The programming for Hades was nearing completion, as was the robot itself.


    Zip''s goal had been for Hades to aid in arresting criminals, to travel where the group couldn''t, either due to space or safety, and disable poachers'' vehicles and prevent them from escaping. But now he wasn''t sure what he was going to do with the robot. Who knew when he''d get a chance to test it out?


    As soon as he finished that last line of code, hooked up that last wire, Hades would be placed on a shelf, destined to sit there and collect dust until things got figured out and maybe some new normal would be found, whatever that would look like. Zip had no idea when they''d start returning to hunting down poachers. The Moonfall Precinct had put together a group of volunteers with enough skill to be able to do the job and had told them that the volunteers would keep Silverlight Forest safe until they wanted to return to their former role.


    Zip appreciated that, appreciated the break, the chance to rest and truly work through Ashley''s murder and how no one currently knew what had happened to him. He knew he couldn''t just bottle up all of his emotions¡ª he had to feel them and accept them and figure out how to come to terms with the fact that he lost one of his friends in one of the most brutal ways possible.


    But Zip also knew that he was starting to get antsy. He was getting tired of sitting around, staying in one place. He might not have been a wanderer like Charlie and he might not have a hard time putting down roots like Kristin did, but he needed space, needed the ability to move. And right now he couldn''t. He didn''t have the answers, and he didn''t have the resources to piece together every last detail of what had happened to Ashley.


    But what he had been able to do was look into Felix Fisk. Despite his computer''s powers, it had still taken a while for it to be able to track down information.


    There really was a Felix Fisk who worked in tech support at Leviathan Inc. He had a sister, Freya, and both worked at the Corville headquarters.


    Charlie probably would''ve called his work some mild snooping, which Zip felt fit. It hadn''t been a deep dive, what he did. He had sifted through Felix''s projects that consisted of many printer fixes and monitor reboots, then tracked down his company records, and finally searched through his email, both personal and company.


    Felix had taken some time off in the days after Ashley was murdered, but that wasn''t any concrete evidence that tied him to Ashley and proved he was the witness. It was still a big maybe¡ª nothing saying Felix was the witness, but nothing saying he wasn''t.


    Zip had forwarded the information he had found to Larson. He hadn''t told Kristin¡ª he didn''t know what his friend would say, but in his heart, Zip knew Larson needed to know. Maybe the detective already knew everything, but it couldn''t hurt. Every crumb of evidence, no matter how seemingly small and insignificant, had the possibility of blasting a hole in the mystery of what happened to Ashley.


    But he couldn''t help the tendril of hope that swirled in his gut.


    Felix Fisk did work in tech support at Leviathan Inc., so maybe he really was telling the truth. Maybe this Felix Fisk really was the person who sent the email to Kristin. Maybe he really was the witness to Ashley''s murder.


    Please, Zip thought. I just want answers.


    xxxx


    It was only about another hour before Zip completed Hades. The robot was done.


    He thought he would''ve been more excited at seeing so much hard work having come together into the finished product. But he didn''t really feel anything.


    Hades looked so innocent sitting on the table, all shiny and new and ready to be tested. But Zip''s stomach twisted as when he looked at it. The robot wouldn''t be used any time soon. They wouldn''t be out tracking down poachers for a long time. He knew why, and it hurt. He knew he should be out testing Hades, but he couldn''t.


    Not until they found Ashley''s killers.


    Whoever took his life was a monster.


    Monsters had to be caught.


    It was one of those simple rules in the world. One of the ones without any exceptions¡ª if someone did something bad, there were consequences. The worse the thing, the worse the consequences. Taking a life was about the worst thing that could be done, and so it would have the worst consequences.


    Zip''s hand started tapping against his thigh, and he turned away before the robot could get him worked up any further. He didn''t need to start down the path to a meltdown again, not when he''d already put so much effort into calming himself down.


    He left his workshop, closing and locking the door behind himself, and then crossed the courtyard to go back to the NYTE house.


    Ren was outside on the grass with Somnus. They were practicing long-distance obedience, both with hand signals and verbal commands. Sit, down, left, right, come, sit, stand, back, down, release. "Good boy, Somnus," Ren said as he trotted over to them, face split with a wide smile. Their voice was happy, but it lacked its usual edge that dipped into joy.


    "Hi, Ren," Zip greeted.


    "Hey," Ren replied, tugging on a toy as Somnus pulled on the other end. "How''s Hades coming along?"


    "It''s done."


    Zip watched Somnus race after the toy when Ren threw it, then come prancing back, head high and tail waving behind him.


    "Oh, Larson called earlier while you were in your workshop. The Moonfall Precinct is piecing together a timeline of where Ashley went on that supply run. The stops are pretty much where he usually goes. Some officers found his car in the parking lot of Books Galore. Nothing was stolen, and they''re processing everything now, although Larson said he wasn''t too sure that anything will be found since nothing seemed to have been disturbed."


    "How did he..." Zip trailed off, unsure of what he was really trying to ask. "Do they-they know where he... went? Why wasn''t he in-. In his car?"


    Ren''s lips twisted into a smile, and they shrugged their shoulders. "I wish I could say. They''re looking through the security cameras around Moonfall right now to see if they can find any clues."


    "They... have they found any-anything?"


    "Well," Ren started. "That''s the thing. They might have found something."


    Somnus chased after the toy when Ren threw it again. He jumped up into the air, but the toy bounced off his head. A laugh started in Zip''s throat, and it dissipated a moment later. It didn''t feel right to laugh, not when he didn''t even know what happened to his friend. He settled for a ghost of a smile, the faintest wisp.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Larson prefaced this by saying that they haven''t finished checking every security camera. But considering he told us, I''m guessing he''s pretty sure of it. He''s still not telling us everything, but I don''t blame him. I mean, he needs to ensure he catches the right people and some information is something only those involved would know.


    "That said," Ren continued, "as of right now, the last video footage found of Ashley is in the parking lot of Deanna''s Bakery. Ferris is out talking with Larson, so he might get more."


    Deanna''s Bakery was a shop right across the street from Books Galore that specialized in pies and cakes. Since Ashley had done virtually all of the supply runs, he got to decide many of what the extra purchases were beyond the necessities. And when the mood struck him and he indulged his sweet tooth, Ashley would return to camp with an assortment of pies, cakes, or pastries, and everyone would spend the next few days trying to finish them all before they went stale.


    The sweetness was sometimes too much for Zip''s senses, but when the balance was just right, it made his fingers flutter and caused him to shift in his seat with that joyous, bubbly feeling coursing through his body.


    But Ferris and Charlie had made a cake a few days prior. There was no need for Ashley to stop at Deanna''s Bakery. So what was he doing there?


    Some of Zip''s confusion must have bled into his expression, because Ren added on. "Larson didn''t offer much in the way of saying what was in the video, just that Ashley was definitively seen on camera in the parking lot of Deanna''s Bakery."


    Zip hummed, staring at his shoes.


    What was Ashley doing there? He thought. What made him go there?


    "I''m going to keep working with Somnus," Ren said, "but there''s stuff for a salad out on the counter if you''d like. Ferris left it out before he left to go speak with Larson in person. Something about having more questions and wanting to talk face-to-face. Kristin''s in his room, though, so..."


    They trailed off, and Zip nodded. So try not to disturb him, was the silent add-on.


    "Ok," he replied. "Have fun with Somnus. I''ll... watch for Ferris-Ferris''s return."


    "Thanks."


    xxxx


    The house was cold when Zip walked in.


    Kristin was not in his room, but rather was huddled on the couch, blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders and dark eyes staring straight through the coffee table. He gripped a fork tight enough that his knuckles had paled. An abandoned salad sat beside him on the couch, squished and less eaten than just pushed around. Lettuce bore indented lines from fork tines, the avocado was in pieces, and the beets had crumbled.


    "Maybe this is how Ashley feels," Kristin murmured when Zip drew closer. His eyes were focused on some far-off point.


    "S-sorry?"


    Kristin''s face was blank as he spoke, and his voice was devoid of emotion. Zip shivered. "Maybe Ashley''s trapped in some cold, empty space," Kristin said. "Maybe he''s all alone, shivering in the dark without anyone there to give him a hug and warm him up and tell him it will all be ok. Nothing bad can last forever, even the longest of nights will come to an end."


    Kristin''s fists tightened on the blanket, wrinkling it in sharp creases.


    "Maybe," Zip whispered, unsure of how to fill the silence.


    They were both quiet for another long minute that seemed to stretch on for an eternity until Zip remembered an email he had seen in Felix''s me84 inbox.


    "Kristin..." he started.


    "What?"


    "Did you..." Zip wrinkled his nose, chewing on his lip as he fiddled with his fingers. He took a step forward how one might approach a skittish deer.


    "Did I what?"


    "You... email... emailed Felix Fisk?"


    Something flickered across Kristin''s gaze, but it was gone before Zip could try to identify it. Kristin sat up, glancing at Zip as he took a deep breath.


    "Why are you asking me?" He murmured, voice calm and measured.


    "You told me to... to look into F-Felix Fisk, so... so I did, and-and I looked at his... email. One from-from you there."


    Kristin nodded slowly, eyes narrowed.


    "Why did you do it?" Zip asked, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. He twisted his shirt in his grip, energy needing some outlet to escape through.


    Kristin''s lip curled as he exhaled through his teeth. He huffed a humorless laugh. "Because I need answers. It''s been weeks and we hardly know anything more than what we knew at the start! Isn''t it worth a try if it might lead to something?" He stood up, dropping his fork onto his plate and slapped a pillow off of the couch as the blanket around his shoulders slipped off of him.


    "We''ll... we''ll find them," Zip whispered, walking around the coffee table to pick up the pillow and return it to the couch. He patted it into place. "They won''t get away with-with anything."


    "I know that. They''ll pay. But they don''t get to just walk free after what they did and Ashley can''t even say goodbye and get one last hug. They''re the ones who deserve to get locked away forever. Ashley is the one who deserves to go where he pleases when he pleases." Kristin''s lip quivered.


    "I''m sorry," Zip said. He wished he knew what he should say. He was sure there was some phrase one was supposed to say, but he couldn''t remember it. Maybe Muse would know.


    "Don''t be. It wasn''t your fault. You didn''t kill Ashley and take him from the world."


    Zip offered a small smile that Kristin tried to return, then sat down on the couch, tucking a leg beneath him and turned on the tv.


    The channel was already turned to Waverwell News, and the camera was focused on Shaheena Driscoll. She was discussing Alaska''s murder, as Zip would''ve guessed. He almost changed the channel, but Kristin shook his head and Zip left it as it was.


    Shaheena brushed her dark hair back over her shoulder, then adjusted some papers on her desk. Once Sarah finished with the weather report, Shaheena started talking.


    "We have recently gotten news from the Corville Precinct in relation to Alaska Wendell March''s murder yesterday. Her ex-boyfriend, whose name has not been released to the press, has been brought in for questioning. It is not yet clear whether he is a suspect, although friends of Alaska''s say they had a very tense relationship. Alaska''s sister, Kansas, described it as an off-again-on-again relationship."


    "Ryzor Oberhofer of the Corville Precinct has not responded to our request for comment at this time," Jaymes added.


    "Why didn''t he respond?" Kristin grumbled, jamming his finger into the pause button. His eyes were watery, and he wiped at them with the back of his hand. "People deserve to know what happened."


    "Probably... can''t say everything. Need... need to-to keep some stuff... secret."


    "Yeah, I know, Zip." Kristin nibbled on a carrot he plucked from his plate. "I just want answers, especially if there''s a connection to Ashley. I want my brother''s murderers shoved into a locked cell and then have the key thrown away. They don''t deserve to be free after what they did."


    "They don''t." Zip couldn''t agree more. There were always consequences for actions taken. And if something horrible was done, the consequences were greater.


    Kristin leaned forward, sides trembling.


    "Do you..." he paused, closing his eyes and visibly trying to calm himself. "Do you think we''ll catch them?"


    "We will catch them." Zip knew they would. The Trinity would be caught. They existed and walked the streets of Waverwell. They might be hiding, but no one could remain hidden forever.


    The Trinity might be very skilled at being invisible, but ghosts could be found.


    "It''s been weeks, and it feels like forever. This is their whole life¡ª they don''t do anything except this, don''t they? Can''t they get caught? Can''t we find them? I just want answers. There''s no way the why will make sense or make anything better, but I want to be able to visit Ashley and tell him we found his killers and that he can rest easier now."


    "We will catch them," Zip repeated, leaning in closer and hoping that perhaps it brought Kristin some measure of comfort.


    A moment later, Charlie came out of her room, brandishing her laptop like a weapon. She rolled her eyes with a drawn-out sigh. Zip moved to the edge of the couch, putting more distance between himself and Kristin.


    "I hate this," Charlie grumbled. She sat down on the coffee table.


    "You hate what?" Kristin asked, hands over his face and muffling his voice.


    "I''ve been searchin'' around on Muse, right? And I''ve been looking into Alaska Wendell March and the connection between her and Ashley. I know Asa and Azrael are doin'' that too, but no way I''m just gonna be sitting around and not doin'' anything!"


    "What have... what have you-you found?" Zip inched forward on the couch. He hoped Charlie had been able to dig up something. If her hyperfocus kicked in, maybe she had.


    "Well, that''s where the issue is..." she trailed off. "I couldn''t find anything. I mean, I''d feel pretty darn confident saying Ashley had no idea Alaska even existed. But considering he kept his journal from us, I don''t know."


    Kristin groaned into his hands. "I can''t recall ever hearing of an Alaska Wendell March in the past. I know I never met her. I doubt Ashley knew of her either. I wish I could say for certain, but who knows what he knew. He kept stuff from me¡ª I didn''t know about his journal. I didn''t care that he had secrets since everyone does, but I would''ve listened. He knew something big." He exhaled a shaky breath. "Who knows what he knew."


    "I was readin'' through his journal again," Charlie said as she scrolled through something on her laptop. "Well, actually the copied version Ferris made so nothing happens to the real thing. He was hinting at a lot. He definitely knew more about this disease thing going around than I think most do."


    "Do you think that''s what got him killed?" Kristin''s voice was paper thin, trembling like a leaf in the wind.


    "That''s the thing." Charlie turned her laptop around. "With the disease, the biggest thing I could find were those whistleblower claims. The disease is Leviathan Inc.''s fault, right? So I went huntin'' around for information. I''m not Ashley-good at finding stuff, but I can''t find any hard evidence that there''s anything wrong there. Maybe there''s something I didn''t find, but I do believe Arkreon passed every safety test required."


    "But I mean, Chad and Darcy have so much money. Couldn''t they have just bought the passing results?"


    "Dunno. Don''t know that much about that testing. It''s what I''m going to look into next. I just realized I haven''t eaten anything in, like..." Charlie looked at her watch. "Six hours. ''Bout time for a snack. Dipper back yet?"


    "No."


    Charlie hummed, turning around and riffling through the fridge. "Oh, well," she said, opening a container of grapes and popping a few in her mouth.


    xxxx


    Ferris called an hour later.


    "Heya, Dipper," Charlie said in a sing-song drawl.


    "Hey, Springs," Ferris chuckled. "Who''s with you?"


    "Zip and Kristin."


    "Can someone go get Ren, or are they busy?"


    Kristin glanced at Zip, a question in his gaze.


    "They were... tr-training S-Somnus, last I... last I saw them. Can go find th-them though..." Zip said.


    And he didn''t have to walk far; when he opened the door to the NYTE house, Ren was still out in the courtyard, running Somnus through some drills.


    "Ren?" He called.


    "Yeah?"


    "Ferris is on the phone and wants you to come in."


    "I''ll be there in a minute," Ren replied, calling Somnus back to them as they walked toward the dogs'' house.


    "What''s it like out in the world?" Charlie was asking when Zip returned to the couch. Her phone was in the middle of the coffee table on speaker.


    "The streets are empty. I don''t think I ever had to stop on the way to the Precinct."


    "Whoah..." Zip murmured. Even on good traffic days, there were still stops, still some little backup. Empty streets were something Zip had never seen.


    "Guess all it took for traffic to die down was a mystery disease no one''s ever seen before."


    Charlie chuckled.


    "What''s so important you couldn''t wait to tell us?" Kristin asked before Charlie could respond.


    "Yeah, that," Ferris said. A door opened and then shut, and the sound was followed by rustling. "Can you hear me alright?"


    "Yes," Ren said, settling down on the floor opposite Zip, their back to the tv.


    "Ok. I''m in the car now. So I talked with Larson to get some more information and make sure what we had was right. He also gave me some new information."


    "Which was?" Charlie asked.


    "He confirmed that Ashley never entered Deanna''s Bakery."


    "Alright," Kristin said, silently pushing Ferris along.


    "Larson wouldn''t give me much, but there was someone else they caught on camera."


    "Which means?" Charlie pressed.


    "They believe someone was working with the Trinity. They do not know who the person is and to what capacity they were working with the Trinity, but the Moonfall Precinct is trying to identify them."


    Zip''s heart sank, and he felt his face fall.


    "There''s a fourth person?" Kristin choked on a breath, tears pooling in his eyes.


    Ferris hesitated.


    "Yes," he replied, voice soft. "There was a fourth person."

 me84 - Chapter 10 - Cynthia Corville - It Had Begun to Kill

    Chapter 10


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    In all of Cynthia''s childhood daydreams of how her time as Waverwell President would go, navigating an outbreak of a previously-unknown disease was not how she imagined things would have gone.


    The first morning after she woke up to the stay-at-home orders in place, everything had been nearly silent, and there were no honking horns to be heard that signaled the start of the morning rush just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon.


    Cynthia had rolled over in bed and traced a finger across Charlotte''s cheek, enjoying the fleeting moments she had where she could pretend they were just two lovers curled up together in bed. She wished she could spend more time with her wife and enjoy a slow, lazy morning in, but she knew work was waiting for her and was piling up.


    The President didn''t get days off, and the President certainly didn''t sleepy mornings spent cuddling and murmuring sweet nothings to a spouse, no matter how tantalizing the idea might have been.


    "Nooo," Charlotte grumbled as Cynthia began to crawl out of bed. She drowsily grabbed at Cynthia''s nightshirt to try to pull her back under the covers. "Come back."


    "I''m sorry, Char," Cynthia murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her wife''s forehead. "I need to get started on my day. You should get up soon, too."


    "Too early," Charlotte groaned into her pillow. "What time is it?"


    "It''s almost five forty-five."


    "Fine." Cynthia smiled as Charlotte sat up, rubbing at her eyes with a yawn. Her hair stuck up in every direction.


    "I''ll be in the bathroom."


    "Will you be taking a shower?"


    "A quick one," Cynthia replied.


    "Mind if I join you?"


    Cynthia laughed at Charlotte''s exaggerated fluttering eyelashes and puppy dog eyes. "It really does need to be quick."


    "I won''t distract you."


    "How did that go last time?" Cynthia teased as she opened the bathroom door to turn on the water so it could heat up.


    "I''ll behave." Charlotte leaned up against the doorway.


    "If you insist." Cynthia leaned in for a kiss that Charlotte returned, leaning in close.


    "I do," Charlotte stated. "I''d like to wash your back since you''re always complaining about how you''re not that flexible."


    "Well, it''s not my fault my shoulders don''t bend that way." Cynthia gave Charlotte a half-hearted frown.


    She missed their usual back-and-forth teasing, the easy nature of their conversations where she could forget for just a few minutes about her job and everything she had to do¡ª for these brief moments, she was just another person in Waverwell spending time with their spouse. She wasn''t President Cynthia Corville, the first female President of Waverwell; she was Cynthia, wife of Charlotte, and she was spending time with her lover, enjoying their morning together as they got ready for the day.


    "I know," Charlotte replied, "and since you refuse to use those scrubby brushes with handles that I bought you, this is my proposed solution."


    "And this is why I said no to using them."


    "Sneaky, sneaky, Sin." Charlotte shook her head as she laughed. The sound was the most beautiful melody Cynthia had heard, and she happily smiled and laughed along with her wife.


    xxxx


    It was Harold who, despite making nearly every attempt to ignore or deny the disease''s existence and problems created in their entirety, first alerted Cynthia to a change in it.


    He pulled her into his office, a space that simultaneously felt too big and too small. The walls had been painted a drab brown, and a series of paintings were hung up, colors all muted to the point Cynthia had a hard time telling what colors were even there. Two sconces cast sharp shafts of light across the wall, and a mirror had been placed exactly opposite Harold''s desk chair, which offered a view of Harold''s monitor and laptop, as well as a clear reflection of whoever sat in his seat.


    Cynthia eyed the massive bottle of hand sanitizer on the edge of Harold''s desk and the air purifier puttering away in the corner of the room.


    Waverwell government officials were still allowed into their physical offices and to meet, provided they followed those rules¡ª hand sanitizer, washing hands frequently, and keeping the air circulating.


    "Have you been keeping up with the lockdown?"


    "Yes, I have been, Harold," Cynthia said, ignoring the sharp bite in his tone. "I was just about to go get an update from Seven Valentine, which I will do after I am done speaking with you."


    "Well, that''s what I was going to talk to you about. You won''t need to speak to the intern¡ª I''ve got it covered."


    Cynthia nodded, letting him continue. She still would speak with Seven, but she didn''t tell Harold that.


    "The Underdown Medical Center has just reported the first confirmed death from the disease."


    Cynthia paused, giving herself a moment to let the information sink in.


    The disease was now beyond an infection¡ª it had begun to kill.


    If there was one confirmed death, how many more were there still unconfirmed? How many more would die before a treatment was known?


    "I see." Cynthia was grateful for every moment of her practice in steeling her expression and morphing it into something carefully neutral, like she was talking about the weather, not something catastrophic to the family who had just lost a loved one, as well as the probable others.


    If there was one death, Cynthia was almost certain there were others.


    "Well," Cynthia continued, "I''m glad we''ve implemented the lockdown when we did. I hope it will be enough to slow the disease''s spread until researchers have a more tailored solution."


    Harold narrowed his eyes into a squinty look.


    "Are you sure the lockdown is still necessary?" His tone of voice gave away little, and his expression was unreadable.


    Cynthia stared Harold directly in the eyes, turning her body to face him fully. "Yes," she said firmly. "Yes, I am sure. A lockdown is what the doctors have stated is the best course of action right now while researchers examine the disease and find a proper treatment for it."


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "It''s literally just sitting on your couch and scrolling through Muse."


    "It''s more than that, Harold. I know it, and you know it, too. The lockdown was important before, and now that there has been a confirmed death, it is even more so."


    "The choice belongs to the people to make the right decisions for themselves."


    "I agree," Cynthia said, and it was true. "But the people need to be informed so they can make an informed decision. And sometimes tough decisions need to be made when there is a threat to society as a whole. No one wants to be at home and away from their friends and family, but if it keeps both them safe as well as those around them, it''s what needs to be done, especially when we currently know so little. So please, Harold, stop taking every chance you have to push back against the lockdown."


    "So you want me to just shut up and go along with whatever is said, no questions asked?"


    Cynthia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "We both know that''s not what I meant," she replied. "I will always make sure I am considering all perspectives when casting my vote or invoking my Presidential power, and I ask that you do the same. This lockdown does not just affect one person, it affects everyone, because the disease will not just go after only one person."


    Harold was quiet, staring at the wall just over Cynthia''s shoulder. "Fine," he eventually said.


    xxxx


    Cynthia had barely sat down for the meeting with all of the highest Waverwell government officials when Delta spoke up, and Linda had hardly had time to write down the name of everyone in attendance.


    "Gabby? Gabby- Gabriella, sorry."


    "Yes?"


    "Come on a date with me. I found this new restaurant out by the Wishing River."


    "No," Gabriella replied firmly.


    "Come on! I''ll pay, and it will be so much fun. It''s such a romantic atmosphere, and it will be lovely. I''ll pick you up late afternoon, we''ll go on a drive out there, we''ll eat dinner, and then we''ll see where the night takes us."


    "No," Gabriella repeated.


    Something flashed across Delta''s gaze, but it was hidden by an easy grin.


    "Why not? I''m the one paying!"


    "I do not wish to go on a date with you."


    Delta rested his cheek on his hand and reached out his arm. "You''re the only one my heart desires," he said as he trailed his fingers across Gabriella''s.


    "Do that again and I will break your wrist," she snapped, removing her fingers from his touch.


    "Why are you playing so hard to get? I don''t understand. My heart is yours."


    Cynthia could tell Gabriella was having a hard time keeping a firm and neutral expression. She saw the quiver in Gabriella''s throat as she swallowed, the way she had trouble holding Delta''s gaze, how she bunched her dress up in her fists beneath the table until the fabric creased in sharp folds.


    Did she have enough? Cynthia knew she would likely only get one chance to push for Delta''s removal from Waverwell government. She had to get it right the first time.


    Things were going to reach a breaking point with Delta, and Cynthia could only hope that she would be able to formally file her case against him before then. She could keep making threats, keep pushing him, but the more she pushed, the greater the risk he might lash out.


    Ashley Baok''s murder and the disease outbreak were taking up much of her day, but she would need to find time to look into Delta Bass and figure out a way to remove him from Waverwell government. Find more time to dig up everything she could on him to make her case as to why he was unfit for a role in Waverwell government.


    It was obvious Delta wanted Gabriella, and it was blatantly clear to everyone but him that Gabriella did not feel the same way. Yet he kept trying to pursue her.


    Or maybe he was well aware she didn''t want him, Cynthia thought as the idea dawned on her.


    And he just didn''t care.


    Her stomach twisted as nausea rose up through her throat.


    "I do not desire you in any form, Delta Bass," Gabriella said, enunciating each syllable and staring Delta right in the eye.


    "Go on one date with me, and that will change."


    "No."


    "Go on one date with me, and I will drop it."


    "No, you won''t."


    "Sure, I will."


    Gabriella shook her head. "No, you won''t, Delta, because you do not know how to take no for an answer. You have never listened, and you never will. Now, since I have made it very clear that I do not desire you in any way, shape, or form, we are done with this conversation."


    "But-."


    "No means no. Full stop. No ifs, ands, or buts. Full stop, Delta. Full stop. No means no. End of discussion."


    Gabriella stared down Delta, and Cynthia saw her biting down on the inside of her lip and curling her hands tighter around her dress. Her knuckles paled underneath the table, and she planted her feet more firmly against the ground.


    For the first time in Cynthia''s memory, Gabriella broke eye contact and looked away first.


    A smirk pulled at the corner of Delta''s mouth. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed loosely over his chest, and he chuckled a small laugh.


    xxxx


    A tense silence clung to the room, thick enough that it could be cut with a knife. Tangible enough that one could reach out a hand and touch it.


    "Researchers have been trying to trace the confirmed cases of this disease and where it originated," Cynthia said, breaking the silence and changing the subject.


    "Uh, huh," Delta murmured, wrinkling his nose at his pad of paper. He scratched something out on it.


    "Have they found the originating source yet?" Gabriella asked.


    "That''s what I was getting to. They believe so, but they''re still working on the exact originating source."


    "What''s their closest location so far?"


    "Cloverleaf."


    The word hung in the air like a heavy cloud of smoke: Cloverleaf, the mining town in Waverwell, where virtually all of the country''s minerals came from.


    But also where Leviathan Inc. got its Arkreon energy source.


    The whistleblower''s claims clung like a shadow, there but just out of sight. Something no one was mentioning but everyone was thinking.


    And how could they not? The researchers were the best of the best¡ª if they said it was true, they had looked at every possibility, had read through all of the latest papers on the subject, conferred with others in their field. The claims made by the whistleblower said Arkreon was responsible for the disease, and it was mined in Spider Ridge, just a short walk from the outskirts of Cloverleaf. It couldn''t be overlooked.


    Without any concrete evidence, Cynthia wouldn''t come to any definite conclusions, but she knew that it didn''t rule out any tie to Arkreon.


    "Who''s the lead researcher?" Gabriella asked. "I''m assuming you''ve offered our assistance in whatever way is needed?"


    Cynthia nodded. "Yes, I have made it clear they have our full assistance. The lead researcher at the Corville Medical Center is Danzig Sterling. I''m not sure if you''ve heard of them since they are relatively new to the position."


    "Oh, I have," Linda said pausing from writing her notes to set down her pen and look up at the rest of the group. "They''re a very smart person. Young but extremely well-qualified. If anyone can lead a team of researchers in investigating a new disease, it''s Danzig. I got to meet them a few months ago when they first took on the role."


    "Danzig sent me a rundown of the symptoms."


    Gabriella raised her eyebrows. "Really? What are they?"


    Cynthia riffled through the stack of documents she had brought with her and pulled out the email from Danzig and handed out copies to everyone. "It''s quite the list."


    Harold leaned back in his chair, and Linda hunched over her copy, circling and underlining with a red pen. Her face fell as she read more and more. Gabriella grimaced, while Delta wrinkled his nose, running a hand through his hair.


    "Eesh," he muttered.


    "Yes," Cynthia agreed. "It''s very bad."


    Dear Mrs. President Cynthia Corville,


    I wish I could be emailing you under better circumstances, but I wanted to keep you updated on everything we are finding. I know I am new to the position of lead researcher at the Corville Medical Center, and while this is my first big task as lead researcher and it is not something anyone would want to deal with, I am committed to doing everything in my power to keep the citizens of Waverwell as safe and healthy as I can.


    Everything in this email is accurate as of right now¡ª the situation is rapidly changing as more is discovered and figured out in regard to this disease.


    In more minor cases, the symptoms can include:


    ¡ª Fever


    ¡ª Fatigue


    ¡ª Confusion


    ¡ª Dizziness


    ¡ª Shortness of breath


    ¡ª Cough


    ¡ª Headache


    ¡ª Rash - red, blotchy patches of skin


    In more serious cases, the symptoms can include:


    ¡ª Trouble breathing - may require medical intervention


    ¡ª Rash - yellow, dry patches of skin, possibly peeling several layers deep


    ¡ª Cough - possibly including blood


    ¡ª Low blood pressure


    ¡ª Low heart rate


    ¡ª Loss of consciousness


    ¡ª Seizures


    ¡ª Death


    This is not an exhaustive list of symptoms, and the list may change as new discoveries are made. I will keep you updated as to any changes regarding the disease and our research, related to the symptoms or not.


    Please do not hesitate to reach out to me with any questions.


    I will be in touch with new information as soon as possible.


    Thank you,


    Danzig Sterling


    They, them, theirs


    Lead researcher, Corville Medical Center


    "Well," Delta started, skin a bit pale as he looked anywhere but his copy of Danzig''s email. He rubbed his hands together, shifting in his seat. "That is a list."


    "Indeed it is," Linda confirmed, looking back over her copy.


    "This," Gabriella stated, jabbing a finger onto the list, "is why we need that lockdown. In a show of hands, how many of you would like to experience these symptoms?"


    No one raised their hand.


    "That''s what I thought."


    Cynthia looked over the list, internally shuddering at the length and how horrific each one sounded. Death stood out at the bottom, and she couldn''t help but wonder how many more fatalities there might be beyond the one already confirmed.


    "I hope the lockdown will be enough for now," she murmured.

 me84 - Chapter 11 - Ren - The Witness

    Chapter 11


    REN


    Ren felt like they were on the verge of something.


    Something big.


    Things had been in about the same place for so long that they felt it was time for something new to come to light.


    There had been so much bad, wasn''t it time for something good?


    A fourth person involved in Ashley''s murder wasn''t quite what Ren had in mind, but they felt that maybe it was necessary for more bad news to be revealed so the right people could be caught. Maybe they just needed to go through a little more bad before they could reach the good.


    Ferris''s words rang in their head. Maybe the Trinity wasn''t so much a trinity as it was a quaternity.


    Ren swallowed against the shudder that built up in the pit of their stomach. Three monsters was bad enough. They didn''t want to think about four monsters.


    Some small part of Ren hoped that maybe this fourth person wasn''t quite so evil. Hadn''t lost every bit of their humanity, if only so maybe there was still some small sliver of human left inside of them.


    The three people who had been there on the night Ashley was murdered ¡ªthe three who had so callously ripped his life away¡ª were no longer human. Any bit of that was lost the first time they killed, whether their first murder victim was Ashley or someone who was currently unknown as a victim of the Trinity.


    Ren''s heart sank at the thought of Ashley as a victim. They didn''t want to think of him as anything but a good, loyal friend who could always brighten their day and make them laugh. They still could, but it was now shadowed by what had happened to him. He would no longer just be Ashley; he would be both Ashley and victim.


    It wouldn''t erase what had been done, but Ren couldn''t help but hope that the fourth person still had some amount of humanity within them.


    They were seen at Deanna''s Bakery, and the Moonfall Precinct had said only three people were there at the scene of Ashley''s murder besides the witness and Ashley himself. There was something beyond just walking past each other, but perhaps the fourth person was only there in the parking lot of Deanna''s Bakery¡ª maybe they were never in Silverlight Forest where Ashley was killed.


    It would complicate matters further, Ren supposed, but maybe the fourth person wasn''t really a part of the Trinity. Maybe the Trinity was still the Trinity and wasn''t now the Quaternity. Maybe instead they were still a criminal of sorts but stayed on their own. Maybe they weren''t a criminal at all but somehow got caught up in the most horrific of crimes.


    All of the what ifs surrounding this mysterious fourth person caught on camera outside Deanna''s Bakery swirled around in Ren''s head, and they wished they had that one piece they felt they were missing.


    Ashley had loved that bakery. It was his go-to when a craving for something sweet hit and he wanted to buy some pie or a pastry or whatever tickled his fancy as he was perusing the display.


    But Deanna''s Bakery wasn''t on his list for the supply run that day. He had no reason to be in that parking lot.


    Ashley was only supposed to be at Books Galore across the street, and he had never strayed from the set shopping list, both for budgeting reasons and time constraints¡ª it was always Ashley''s goal to get back before dark, even though he frequently wasn''t able to.


    So what made him cross the street and go from Books Galore to the parking lot of Deanna''s Bakery?


    Ren had spent hours pondering that. They hadn''t seen the video surveillance footage, so perhaps there was something in that.


    But still, who knew what had driven Ashley to walk across the street? If he had stayed at Books Galore, would he still be here? Would he still be alive if he had never crossed the street?


    What could have made Ashley drop his guard enough to go out of his way and stray from his shopping list?


    Ren didn''t know.


    xxxx


    Ren moved their scrambled eggs around on their plate as they sat at the table.


    They hadn''t slept much last night, and hunger was the furthest thing from their mind¡ª the idea of food made their stomach squirm.


    Kristin sat on the couch, nibbling on toast while scrolling on his laptop. Charlie lounged beside him, working her way through an apple. Zip hunched over a bowl of cereal at the kitchen counter, gaze distant as he stared blankly at a point on the wall above the stove. Ferris flipped through a newspaper he had picked up on his way back from the Moonfall Precinct while sipping his coffee.


    He and Charlie had done the daily crossword earlier, which had turned into a game of who could complete their half of the words the fastest. Charlie had the across clues, while Ferris took the down clues.


    Ren had given a small laugh at Charlie''s dark scowl and crossed-arm huff when Ferris beat her¡ª she got stuck on her last clue.


    But it was Kristin who brought Ren back from their thoughts and constant spiral of wondering about Ashley and what had happened.


    "Guys," he said, voice high and shaky. Ren looked up, swallowing the bite of eggs they had managed to choke down.


    "Yeah?" Charlie turned to face him, chewing on a bite of an apple.


    "So I did something that might''ve been kinda stupid. But I did it for good reason so please don''t be mad. You gotta remember that, alright? I did it for a good reason."


    Ferris frowned, and Ren mirrored the action.


    "What did you do?" Ferris asked, voice carefully neutral.


    "I reached out to the Felix Fisk person who reached out and said he was the witness. Zip looked into him, and he really does work in tech support at Leviathan Inc. His sister, Freya, works there too! He didn''t lie about that, so he might''ve not been lying about the rest!"


    Ren mulled over Kristin''s words.


    He had emailed Felix, and Ren had been pondering that already in the back of their head since they had their suspicions. And they couldn''t blame him¡ª Felix claimed to know information about Ashley''s murder. Who wouldn''t want to do everything they could to try to solve their sibling''s murder? Ren knew how close Kristin and Ashley had been, how inseparable the twins were and how much they meant to the other. Who could blame Kristin for doing anything that could possibly pan out into information that could help solve his brother''s murder?


    "Did Felix reply?" Ren tilted their head to the side.


    "Yeah, actually. He did." Kristin huffed a chuckle, mouth pulling up at the edge in the closest thing to a smile Ren had seen from him since the day they all found out about Ashley and learned why he hadn''t been responding to any of their attempts at reaching him.


    "Wait?" Zip gasped, scrambling up off his stool at the kitchen counter and dashing over to Kristin and his laptop. "R-really?"


    "Yeah, I got a reply... like, five minutes ago." Kristin tilted his laptop screen so Zip could see better.


    "What did it say?" Charlie leaned over Kristin''s shoulder. When he shied away, she shifted back with a rushed sorry, my bad.


    "Just a second and I''ll read it."


    Ren moved to stand a few steps back from Kristin, adjusting their stance so they could clearly see his computer screen and the response from Felix.


    Hello Kristin Baok,


    I am telling the truth.


    I don''t know how much that means or how much you really believe me, but I am.


    I will go to the Moonfall Precinct to turn myself in and say that I am the witness. I would''ve done it sooner, I promise, but I needed to give myself time to try to process what I saw.


    And maybe that''s selfish, I don''t know.


    All I know is you and the rest of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit are going through the hardest thing anyone could go through, and I couldn''t do something that surely would help right away, something I know I should''ve done immediately but didn''t.


    The only thing I can say in my defense of that is that I couldn''t think straight. I didn''t want to stop along Myway Highway, but I knew I couldn''t keep driving. And then I was witness to the worst act that could be committed, and I didn''t know how to wrap my mind around what those three figures did to your friend. Your brother, Kristin Baok.


    I will go turn myself in to the Moonfall Precinct and share everything I know. I don''t know why those three figures did what I saw them do, but maybe the Moonfall Precinct can analyze what I saw in a way I don''t know how.


    I''m truly sorry, Kristin Baok. I truly am, and I cannot say that enough.


    I wish there was more I could do. I wish I could turn back the clock and go back to that night and figure out some way to get those masked figures to stop and spare Ashley Baok''s life.


    I was terrified in that moment. I was paralyzed by fear and horror, because the only times I had seen people commit acts as horrible as those three figures did was in horror movies, where it was actors and props and carefully placed bags of blood. Where everything was fake. Never in the real world where someone''s life was actually in danger and where someone''s life could actually get cut so short.


    I wish with all of my heart and soul that I knew of some way this could be made right, because even when those three figures, dressed in such dark clothing, get caught ¡ªbecause I know they will; I cannot entertain the thought they won''t, not even for a moment¡ª Ashley Baok will not be brought back to life.


    I''m sorry, Kristin Baok. I wish I could''ve saved your brother.


    And if it helps in any small way, I do believe Ashley Baok knew I was there. When he was in the company of devils, like you said in your reply.


    I have played that night back in my head again and again. Every second I can remember over and over, and I believe he knew that I was there. I hope it provided some measure of comfort, however small. I know he looked at where I was crouching and I think he may have seen me, but he looked away before I could be sure.


    I am sorry. I am so, so sorry.


    But I promise I will turn myself in to the Moonfall Precinct. I know they are looking for me.


    This is the least I can do. It won''t make anything right, but maybe it will aid in making things less wrong.


    I do not know if you will want to talk to me further. I could not save Ashley Baok. But please, do not hesitate to reach out if you do wish to speak further. I will respond as quickly as I can.


    Sincerely,


    Felix Fisk


    Leviathan Inc. Tech Support


    Email: [email protected]</a>


    Muse: me84


    "Well," Charlie started, "he sure does seem awfully genuine."


    "Text doesn''t... no emotion." Zip chewed on his lip. Ren couldn''t help but notice how Zip''s arm was brushing up against Kristin''s, and how Kristin hadn''t shifted away.


    "Yeah, but look at the word choice." Charlie pointed at the screen.


    "What... what about it?"


    "He could''ve chosen literally any words on the planet to get across the idea of I saw a close friend of yours-slash-brother of you, Kristin Baok, get murdered, and I feel really awful about it. And yet, this Felix Fisk said sorry a whole bunch. He''s, like, picking words that just make him sound heartbroken. Makes me want to give him a big hug. With consent, of course."


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Wait," Ren said. "Show me the email again?"


    Kristin turned around. "Uh, sure. Here." He handed his laptop to them, and Ren took it, scrolling to the top of Felix''s reply and reading through it again.


    "Do you see something, Ren?" Ferris asked.


    "Did the Moonfall Precinct ever release that the Trinity wore masks?"


    "I don''t believe so, why?"


    "Felix said he wished he could turn back the clock and find some way to get those three masked figures to stop and spare Ashley''s life."


    The room went silent.


    "Another drop in the bucket of Felix Fisk really is the witness," Charlie said.


    "He also said that even when those three figures, dressed in such dark clothing, get caught, Ashley will not come back to life. I can''t recall the clothing of the Trinity."


    "That one can be guessed at, though." Kristin''s mouth twisted into a frown. "Don''t most villains wear dark clothing? It helps them stay hidden."


    "I suppose," Charlie murmured. "But wouldn''t most people just refer to the Trinity as the Trinity? Or those three figures? You know, not give those extra details? The sentences would stay the same and still hold the same meaning, even if we took out that they were wearing dark clothing or had masks. They''re details that aren''t necessary for the sentence to be a sentence and make sense."


    Kristin tilted his head to the side. "I suppose."


    "We should turn this into the Moonfall Precinct," Ferris said.


    "Yeah, we should." Charlie hopped off the couch and walked over to the kitchen. She ruffled through the cabinets, then pulled out a single-size bag of chips.


    "I can go," Ren offered. Perhaps if they went and talked to Larson, then they could get more answers. Maybe they could finally start piecing together the puzzle in their head that was missing such crucial pieces.


    "Sure," Charlie spoke around a mouthful of chips.


    "Keep us... keep us updated," Zip added.


    "Don''t forget anything they say," Kristin murmured.


    "Make sure to drive safely," Ferris finished.


    "Ok, I''ll be back in maybe two hours? Give or take a while."


    xxxx


    Ren wasn''t quite sure what to think as they approached the Moonfall Precinct.


    The last time they had been there, they had walked through the doors as their mind raced with possibilities as to why Ashley hadn''t been responding to any calls or messages. Death hadn''t been considered, and certainly not murder. The worst thing Ren had thought of was that maybe Ashley had gotten caught up in something horrible. But in even the worst of the worst case scenarios they had gone through, Ren believed Ashley was still alive, because why wouldn''t they? How could they think their friend was anything other than alive?


    But he wasn''t. Every message sent, every phone call made, every pleading voice mail left, Ashley was dead.


    He never saw any of them.


    Ren parked the car and made their way toward the doors of the Moonfall Precinct. They stuffed their hands in their pockets and tried to ignore the way their fingers trembled.


    The Moonfall Precinct wasn''t actually all that big¡ª it was one of the smallest of the Precincts, second only to Raconteur, which existed purely because it was required that there be at least one Precinct building in each city of Waverwell. The officers and detectives there spent more time playing cards and chatting about their lives than filling out reports since there hadn''t been an arrest there in close to a decade and the biggest crime that had occurred in anyone''s memory was a stolen chicken.


    But the Moonfall Precinct loomed in front of Ren, seemingly expanding to tower above them like a skyscraper, despite the fact it was barely two stories tall.


    Ren reached out with a shaky hand to grasp the door handle.


    You can do this, they told themself. You can do this. It will get answers for Ashley.


    Once inside, Ren saw a little sign on a stand, saying that with the disease, people allowed inside the Precinct had been limited and that they were asking anyone who did come inside to frequently wash their hands or use hand sanitizer. Ren stuck their hand beneath the dispenser.


    Sunlight filtered through large windows, and overhead lights hung from the ceiling. Chairs had been arranged against the edges of the lobby. Pictures of Moonfall ¡ªeverything from cityscapes, to Silverlight Forest, to squad cars in front of various buildings¡ª hung on the walls.


    "Hello," someone said, snapping Ren from methodically rubbing hand sanitizer into their skin to try to calm down and push away the images of Ashley''s body. They could remember far too clearly the route to get to that fateful room, and they knew the exact moment the true meaning of the words we found Ashley hit like a brick to the temple. Ren didn''t know how they hadn''t dropped to their knees under the weight of the realization.


    "Oh, uh, hi."


    "How may I help you?" the person said. They sat at the front desk and gave a warm smile.


    Ren took a few steps toward them. "I was, uh, hoping to speak with Detective Larson Hotch."


    "I''m sorry, but with the lockdown, we are only offering appointments booked in advance. But if you go to our website-."


    "I really need to talk with him," Ren pressed.


    "I truly am sorry."


    "It''s about Ashley Baok''s case. It''s very important."


    "There''s a form for tips on our websi-."


    Ren clenched their hands into bloodless fists, holding back a snarl of frustration. They knew the person was only doing their job. It wasn''t their fault. And Ren knew they probably weren''t really supposed to just walk in "I know that. I''ve visited your website a million times. I need to talk to Detective Larson Hotch! It''s about Ashley Baok''s case!"


    The person stared at Ren for several long moments. Ren guessed enough of their desperation bled through into their expression, because the person nodded. "Ok, I understand. I cannot make any guarantees, but I will see if Larson is available to speak with you. What is your name?"


    "I''m Ren."


    Understanding washed across the person''s face. "Oh, you knew Ashley Baok, didn''t you? You''re Ren from the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, right?"


    "Yes, I knew Ashley and I work for the SFPU."


    "My deepest condolences for your loss, and I apologize for not recognizing you."


    "It''s ok," Ren rushed. "Can I please speak with Larson? I have something I think he''d like to see."


    Ren slipped a hand into their pocket and grasped their phone. Kristin had forwarded Felix''s reply to them, and the email sat in their inbox, flagged and marked in every way they knew how to ensure the email didn''t go anywhere. They weren''t risking losing a piece that could lead to progress in Ashley''s case. Every step forward, no matter how small, was a step closer to knowing exactly what happened to Ashley.


    Ren sat down on a chair, unable to do much more than perch on it, body tense as they waited.


    xxxx


    In the end, Ren didn''t have to wait long.


    It was less than ten minutes before Larson walked out into the lobby of the Moonfall Precinct.


    "Hello, Ren," Larson greeted as he approached them. His greying curly hair stuck up at every angle, and dark bags hung heavily beneath his eyes. Wrinkles creased his shirt, and Ren couldn''t help but wonder how much sleep he had been getting and when the last time he went home was.


    Ren turned around, rubbing hand sanitizer on their hands after they''d stuck their hand under the dispenser again in a nervous movement. They ducked their head in acknowledgement. "Hello, Detective Larson Hotch."


    "Please, just Larson is fine. I wish we could be meeting under better circumstances."


    Ren offered an interpretation of a smile. They couldn''t meet Larson''s gaze.


    His mouth twisted into a look of sympathy.


    "If you''ll follow me, we can go speak in my office."


    "Sure."


    Larson''s office was neat and tidy, anything there with a clear purpose. The files on his desk were organized in neat piles, each squared and even in straight lines and ninety-degree angles. His name tag sat parallel to the front of his desk, reading LARSON HOTCH, LEAD DETECTIVE.


    Ren sat down in the chair Larson gestured to, then he settled into his own chair.


    "So," he started, "I have kinda... two big things I wanted to talk with you about, as far as Ashley Baok''s investigation is going. We are of course continuing to work on it and are seeking out the identities of the Trinity''s members. We''re following up on every lead, and we will not stop until we have Ashley''s killers in custody and charged with every offense possible."


    "Ok, thank you," Ren said. "But first, Felix Fisk wrote to us again. He replied to Kristin. I brought the email with me."


    Something flashed across Larson''s face. "Do you have that email?"


    Ren nodded. "Yes, just give me a moment." They pulled out their phone and unlocked it, pulling up the forwarded email from Felix. "Here it is. I can send it to you if you''d like."


    "Please, that would be wonderful."


    "What''s your email address?"


    "[email protected]</a>. Lowercase detective."


    Ren typed the address in and hit send. "Ok, thanks. I just sent it."


    Larson''s computer dinged a few moments later. He was silent as he read through the email, eyebrows furrowed.


    "Thank you very much for bringing this to my attention. This actually fits into one of the things I was going to tell you: Sedge Valentine is currently with Felix Fisk."


    "I''m sorry?"


    "Felix Fisk is here." Larson tapped a finger on the table. "He walked in here a few hours ago and said he had information about Ashley Baok''s murder. He turned himself in, like he said in this email."


    "He''s the witness?" Ren asked, needing to clear it up once and for all.


    Larson chewed on his lip, and Ren didn''t know why it couldn''t be yes or no.


    "It''s still a bit too early to say for certain¡ª Sedge still needs to go through some more things with Felix. But I do believe so. I do believe Felix Fisk is the witness. At a minimum, he knows things he wouldn''t know if he were just the average citizen. He has told us things that only someone there that night would know."


    Ren''s nose burned, and they pressed a hand to their mouth.


    Finally.


    Ashley was finally beginning to get justice. The facts of his murder were finally coming to light, and this was another step closer to figuring out what had happened on the night Ashley lost his life and who the monsters were that formed the wicked trio of the Trinity.


    When Larson held out a box of tissues, Ren took one, dabbing at their eyes as they let the knowledge sink in that the witness had likely been found.


    They wouldn''t have wished seeing something as horrific as a murder on anybody, but they couldn''t help but feel glad that it wasn''t only devils there that night with Ashley. That there had been another human there who had seen what had happened, at least in part. That maybe Ashley hadn''t been quite so alone in his last few moments.


    Ren had wished again and again that they could''ve been there with Ashley to comfort him, tell him that he was loved, that he wasn''t alone. They wished he could''ve had a familiar face there. But if nothing else, a human face who didn''t mean him harm was better than three soulless, remorseless faces staring down at him, eyes red and twin horns glowing in the dead of the night.


    "Was Alaska Wendell March''s murder also committed by the Trinity?" Ren didn''t want to beat around the bush¡ª they had calmed down enough to continue, and they knew it would be one of the first questions they''d get asked when they returned back to the camp.


    Larson hesitated. He ran a hand over his jaw, and Ren wasn''t sure why he was taking so long to respond.


    "We believe so," he eventually said. "I can''t get into the details, but there were many similarities between both murders."


    "Do you know what the connection was between Ashley and Alaska?"


    "I''m assuming you''ve done some digging of your own?"


    Ren nodded. "Yeah, we have."


    "May I ask what you''ve found?"


    "We found nothing, unfortunately."


    Larson hummed, disappointed. "We haven''t been able to find anything either. As I''m guessing you heard on the news, we brought in Alaska''s ex-boyfriend, but he has an airtight alibi."


    "That doesn''t completely rule him out though, right?"


    "No, he could still be involved, but in a more indirect way. It''s something we''re still looking into."


    Ren hummed.


    There were two known murders committed by the Trinity. Who knew what others were sitting as unsolved cases or closed cases, but wrongfully so?


    Two people taken from their friends and family far too soon, in the most unnatural way possible.


    Ren''s heart clenched and twisted in their chest, and they breathed through the pain for the millionth time since they had found out that they would never see Ashley alive ever again.


    "We''ve been reviewing the footage of Ashley Baok in front of Deanna''s Bakery," Larson said, breaking the silence and snapping Ren back to reality.


    They nodded. "What have you found?"


    "We haven''t identified the person seen with Ashley, but we believe they may be a missing person."


    "And you believe they''re somehow connected to the Trinity?"


    "No, I do not." Larson leaned back in his chair, mulling over his words. "I think it''s very likely this fourth person knows of the Trinity, but I do not believe this fourth person has any personal connection to the Trinity, nor do I believe they''re closely associated with the Trinity. The Trinity is still a group of three, not a group of four."


    "And you''re sure this fourth person is..." Ren paused, exhaling slowly to calm the quiver in their throat and to stop their voice from cracking and rising a few octaves. "You''re sure this fourth person is involved?"


    Larson gave a sympathetic smile. He nodded slowly. "I''m sorry, but yes, I am. I cannot get into the details of the video, but I am certain the interaction between Ashley and this person led to his murder."


    "So if that interaction never occurred, Ashley would still be here?"


    "I cannot speculate on that, because I do not know. I''m sorry, Ren. I truly am. I wish I could give you all of the answers you are looking for. I wish I could tell you what happened and who is responsible. But I promise you that I will not rest until the case is solved, all questions have been answered, and those responsible have been arrested, charged, and convicted. I won''t rest, and neither will anyone else on the task force investigating Ashley Baok''s murder."


    Ren held Larson''s gaze, vision slightly blurry, but they blinked away the tears.


    "Thank you," they whispered, voice tight and hoarse.


    "Can I see the video?" Ren asked after wiping away a tear that had rolled down their cheek.


    "Do you have pictures of Ashley on your phone?" It was a rhetorical question from Larson, of course¡ª Ren had many pictures of Ashley. Videos, too. They had countless pictures of the then-SFPU.


    "Yes, I do."


    "Remember Ashley that way, please. You don''t need to see this video. The way you want to remember Ashley is in those photos, not in this video. If you truly, truly want to see the video, I can show you the beginning of it, but please believe me that the Ashley you want to remember is in your photos."


    Ren mulled over what Larson had said.


    They wanted to see the video. They wanted to see the last footage caught of Ashley, of their friend.


    But they also knew it wouldn''t change anything. Ashley would still be dead. His killers would still be walking free and unnamed. There wouldn''t be some lightbulb moment where everything would make sense.


    Ren might never get that moment where everything settled, and they could fully grasp the why in the reason behind Ashley''s murder. They had no idea now, and even when the case was closed, they didn''t know that they''d be able to say they understood when faced with the reason why the Trinity had murdered Ashley. They didn''t even know if there was a reason that would make sense to anyone but the Trinity.


    xxxx


    Sedge Valentine walked into Larson''s office after the lead detective had called him in, and Larson turned his computer screen so he could see it.


    Sedge cursed.


    Then Larson cursed.


    Then Sedge cursed again.


    Then Larson cursed again.


    Ren frowned.


    Larson jabbed a finger at his computer screen, gaze darkening considerably.


    Sedge nodded, mouth thinning until it was just a strip of paled skin.


    "It''s not good," he said.


    "It''s not good," Larson agreed.


    "What isn''t good?" Ren asked, unable to hold back their curiosity.


    "Waverwell News somehow got their paws on the news that we''ve found the witness. They even managed to get the name! Felix Fisk!" Larson threw his hands up in the air with a groan. "I hope this was some really unfortunate accident, but if this was intentionally leaked by someone here, they''re done; I will make sure of it. I''ll charge them too."


    "With what?" Sedge asked.


    "I''m not in the headspace for a complete list, but certainly interfering in an ongoing investigation. Putting a witness at risk, too. Don''t they know it''s the Trinity?"


    Ren''s blood ran cold; they hadn''t thought of that.


    From what Larson had said, nothing in Felix''s interview gave any indication that he was anything but the witness¡ª if the Trinity got ahold of Felix''s name and identity, who knew what they would do. Felix had seen what they had done to Ashley. Had seen it first hand. Had seen it in person, not in crime scene photos and observations made after the fact.


    Felix had been the last human to see Ashley alive, Ren thought, and their stomach twisted. They hoped Ashley knew that he wasn''t alone in those last moments, and that maybe it had provided him some small measure of comfort that he had company. That he didn''t have to let go surrounded entirely by monsters and the hollow silence of the night.


    If the Trinity knew that Felix Fisk had seen what they did to Ashley, who knew what they would do to ensure Felix couldn''t testify against them and share everything they did in excruciating and condemning detail.


    Ren knew it wouldn''t be anything good.

 me84 - Chapter 12 - Ashley Baok - Snakes and Sirens

    Chapter 12


    ASHLEY BAOK


    Two Months Ago


    Saturday


    Dear Diary,


    It''s the weekend. Yay.


    It was a long week. I stayed up too late for a few days. No, I do not recommend pulling some almost all-nighters. It''s not fun. Humans need more than, like, three hours of sleep to classify as ''functioning.''


    We did catch two poachers, though, so I suppose that''s good. Makes the exhaustion worth it, cuz... fewer poachers going after the Pocket Forest''s plant and animal populations. Always a good thing. We brought them each to the Moonfall Precinct after their arrests, and then we celebrated by stopping by Deanna''s Bakery and picking out a pie. I mean, they''re just so delicious! How''s anyone supposed to resist?! We got a Grasshopper pie, per Charlie''s decision. Its bright green color did make it stand out, so of course it drew her attention. Despite how its name makes it seem, at least to me, like it''s got literal grasshoppers in it, I was pleased to find out that it did not, in fact, contain grasshoppers and it was actually pretty good. We finished that one off in a single night.


    But as nice as it would be for the offenders to work nine-to-five, Mondays through Fridays... that''s just not going to happen. For all I know, the next Camera Trap will go off three seconds from now. Or Kristin could come barging through the door and pull me into motion because someone caught wind of a poacher in one of the parts of Pocket Forest that Zip has yet to wire the Camera Traps in.


    No, poachers, you may not hunt the Forest''s animals or steal the Forest''s plants. We will stop you, and we will arrest you, and we will be enthusiastic as we cart you off to the Moonfall Precinct.


    Maybe I''ll take a nap, Diary. I''m really quite tired. What do you think of that? I''ve heard that catnaps are good for you. Sleep is sleep, I guess. And everyone needs sleep, no matter how much they seem like they''re actually a very realistic human-like robot.


    You know, I''m not sure I''ve EVER seen Ferris sleeping. I can''t ever recall seeing him asleep, and we''ve been the SFPU for months. Like, every time I go into the kitchen, there Ferris is, sipping away on a cup of coffee and reading through one article or another or drafting a letter to President Cynthia Corville. Yeah... still can''t believe he actually knows her to some extent. Maybe tomorrow I''ll be able to wrap my head around it.


    Or maybe the next day. Or maybe next month.


    Charlie got a picture of the Silverlight Pack at Silverlight Lake, though. She was awfully psyched about that.


    I mean, I''ll admit it''s rather grainy. Way zoomed in picture on a phone that was taken in half a second for fear of the wolves running away will do that. But Charlie now has a picture of the entire Silverlight Pack in all of their wolf-y glory: Ten, Madaket, Selene, Red, Anastasia, and Beck. The whole pack of wolves. All six of them.


    I can''t fault her for her excitement, though. Really can''t. Like, eighty percent of the stuff we know about the Silverlight Pack is general wolf behavior from textbooks I''ve found while on supply runs, mostly from Books Galore when I''ve been perusing their Science section. The rest ¡ªthe stuff more tailored to the Silverlight Pack specifically¡ª is mostly circumstantial. You know, like, kills, paw prints, their den when they''ve been away (cuz I''d really rather NOT become a wolf chew toy, thank you very much).


    But now we''ve got a picture of all of them!


    Maybe Charlie will paint them all on a rock like she did Somnus on Ren''s doorstop to the dogs'' building. Maybe this time the wolves will look like wolves, and not the rat that can only be identified as Somnus by his name having been written on the collar. And hush, no need to tell her that¡ª don''t you know she''ll get annoyed cuz she''s got ''wonderful art skills and she doesn''t need to listen to your criticism so you may kindly be quiet while she works, please and thank you?''


    Anyway, hopefully this weekend will be uneventful and relaxing. I could really use some good rest.


    Until next time,


    Ashley Baok


    Monday


    Dear Diary,


    The weekend was not restful.


    Nor was it uneventful.


    Actually feelin'' pretty salty about that one. Really salty. I mean, I just wanted to sleep. Is that really too much to ask? I mean, really?! I want my sleep!


    Anyway, so I was doing some digging, right?


    Remember when I told you about that time I was in the Valleyfield Market in Dal and I overheard that brief bit of conversation about that mine collapse possibility in Spider Ridge? Well, I was looking into that, Diary.


    It''s rather unfortunate, cuz there really IS that possibility. Unfortunate, ya know? People are still going into the mines¡ª money to be made, and all that jazz. In all honesty, that doesn''t seem like that world''s BEST idea. Suppose they''ve got pieces of glass over the concerning-looking cracks. Like, the glass breaks and that''s an issue cuz it means the rock is shifting... and that''s never a good sign.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Imagine the damage that would be done if even one of the mines collapsed? Even if it was toward the end of the mine, still got a decent chance that someone''s gonna wind up trapped. Or maybe it would just make the whole entire mine unstable... and then that''s an even bigger problem. Or, worst case scenario, one of the mines collapses right at the entrance to the mine. Then a whole lot of people are stuck.


    Imagine the effects of a massive collapse in the mines though. Spider Ridge is where so many of the mined materials come from, including Arkreon. Leviathan Inc. powers some enormous percentage of homes and businesses. It''s really rather ridiculous, but it''s how it is. Massive collapse means Spider Ridge gets shut down. Spider Ridge shut down means no more removal of mined materials. No more removal of mined materials means shortage of aforementioned mined materials. Shortage of aforementioned mined materials means lots of things shut down, power shortage, businesses likely go out of business, and lots of other bad things.


    It was honestly kinda depressing how much of an effect one thing going wrong can have on everything, Diary. We''re basically just one disaster away from... well, disaster.


    I think I need to go do something else.


    Goodbye for now,


    Ashley Baok


    Tuesday


    Dear Diary,


    I''m less sad now.


    I spent a while yesterday afternoon looking at cute kitten and puppy videos on Muse. That always helps. Who knew a sleeping puppy could be so adorable? The puppy was hardly doing anything except breathing!


    And yes, I probably should''ve done some more work yesterday, but none of it was crucial. And there was this puppy that looked like a mini Pyxis who was all fur and oversized paws. I think my heart might have melted in my chest!


    Ren asked me for help in training the dogs. The only time they do that is when they either need someone to create distractions for the dogs to ignore... or the really fun job of being the ''enemy.'' Please note the sarcasm, Diary. Somewhat sarcasm. The dogs need to practice biting people, of course, but they''ve got TEETH! And JAWS! It hurts! But worth the pain if it means we can arrest more poachers and ease the strain on Pocket Forest, since there''s already enough of a struggle for the wildlife without humans going on in there and being stupid jerks. Mother Nature is merciless... people don''t need to be sticking their fingers where they don''t belong.


    Anyway, I agreed to suit up so the dogs could practice bite work. Hopefully it won''t hurt too much.


    Wish me luck!


    Ashley Baok


    Wednesday


    Dear Diary,


    It was lunchtime and we were all craving danishes so I went to Deanna''s Bakery. Might''ve been a bit of a waste to drive all that way for one thing, but can''t convince me it wasn''t worth it. I mean... it''s a danish.


    I went on out there, and I saw someone struggling with their car. It had a flat tire, and they were trying to put on a spare tire. I offered to help, and they accepted. All those times of changing the SFPU car tires came in handy!


    It felt nice. And it was hardly any effort. They offered to buy me something from the bakery, but I declined and wished them a nice day.


    It''s always such a wonderful thing when I can do something. Maybe that''s why I''m always so interested in learning something new¡ª maybe it''ll come in handy in the future.


    I think I''m getting to the point where I could fix just about anything in our cars, and that would probably translate at least roughly to other cars. I can change a tire and the basic stuff like that, it''s that subtle stuff in the engine that still gets me though. You know, when it''s not all that obvious?


    I''m glad the person''s car troubles were only a flat tire and nothing more. It was an easy fix that likely won''t be anything more than replacing the tires.


    Bite work with the dogs went well yesterday. Except for when Somnus slammed into me and got his jaws around my leg. Pretty sure my leg isn''t supposed to bend that way. It''s usually Ferris who volunteers to be the ''doggy chew toy'' but it was me today since Ferris is working on some of the permits we have and making sure they''re going to get renewed properly. So many hoops to jump through.


    But regardless, now I''ve got this lovely bruise on my knee. Sure glad I''m not the one Ren is sending the dogs after. Kristin took a look and said I''d be fine. More of a superficial injury, as opposed to really getting deep in there and messing with all the internal parts of my knee. So I suppose that''s good.


    I''ll volunteer again if Ren needs someone to play the role of the chew toy, but it doesn''t feel good having a dog come barreling into you and snapping their jaws shut on one of your limbs. Somnus''s jaws were like a vise, and Morpheus''s usually calm temperament just flipped off and he was like a rocket. Pyxis is usually sweet and cuddly, but not so much when you get a face full of her long fur when she''s shoving you to the ground and she lands with all of her weight on your chest.


    I can laugh about it now, cuz that really did happen¡ª Pyxis charged into me, and I got the wind knocked out of me when she send me slamming into the ground and she was on my chest. I was spitting her fur out of my mouth when I was trying to breathe. Ren had to call her off early so I could catch my breath.


    Looking back, it was mildly amusing, just not so much in the moment. You know, people gotta breathe and all that.


    Oh, and I''ve been looking into some more things.


    Until next time,


    Ashley Baok


    Thursday


    Dear Diary,


    Four days in a row? That''s gotta be some kind of record, right? Well, anyways.


    I was pondering that Pockets of Gold and Silver book, right? That one about those kids who go on an epic heist to rob that bank?


    Yeah, that one.


    So I was thinking that maybe there''s a sequel. Many books get them, don''t they? The first story wasn''t enough, and so another was made to continue the story. The characters gotta carry on.


    Maybe Caspian Lyon wrote another story. Pockets of Garnet and Sapphire, maybe? Thrones of Salt and Sand, because nothing lasts forever?


    Those kids couldn''t do it alone. The bank they were trying to rob was just too big for only them.


    The first bank they robbed ¡ªthe one they infiltrated in Pockets of Gold and Silver¡ª they robbed successfully... but they only got a few Corvilles. Not nearly enough.


    But this one promises to be much more rewarding¡ª what they''ll get when they rob the bank is beyond their wildest dreams. They''ll get that stability they wanted, Diary.


    Cuz when you''re going after Snakes and Sirens, you gotta be prepared, you know? Snakes have sharp tongues, and Sirens have a deadly song. They''re those fairies with those trickster magic spells up their sleeves and changing faces, because even the prettiest of looks can hide scalding sugar.


    You gotta watch out for those serpents and monsters¡ª the banks have security. And security doesn''t always look like anyone. Sometimes it slips away into the crowd. Forgotten completely.


    And watch out for what''s under your bed. You never know what may be lurking beneath where you lay your head to rest at night. Maybe it''s just something wrapped up in sheep''s wool, hiding what it really is. Playing innocent when it''s truly a wolf, something far more dangerous. Some monster that lives deep within a mountain, some demon prowling within the depths of a network of tunnels and caves.


    I mean, it can be really quite fascinating all the things that come alive once the sun sets. You can say hello to that monster beneath your bed. Reach out and run your hand across its side, feel the heat coiling beneath its skin, see the yellow of its flesh, hear the wheeze in its breath.


    Don''t you want to see that monster? Don''t you want to see that Eidolon?


    Ashley Baok

 me84 - Chapter 13 Part 1 - Charlie Springs - A Star to a Space Heater

    Chapter 13


    CHARLIE SPRINGS


    Charlie Springs was confused.


    Not confused in the way of she didn''t understand what was going on, but rather she wasn''t sure what to make of things.


    She had gotten an email, and she wasn''t sure what to think.


    "Dipper," she started, zooming in on her phone and rereading the email, head on her knee that had been pulled to her chest. She twisted on the couch to face Ferris, who was laying with his back on the arm of the couch, feet almost in her lap. She poked his toes.


    "Yeah?" he replied absently, typing on his laptop. Likely a message to Cynthia or one of her assistants in Waverwell government.


    "Would Shaheena Driscoll happen to know any of our email addresses?"


    "I''m assuming this is a hypothetical?" Ferris peered over the top of his laptop.


    Charlie shrugged. "Sure, why not?"


    "Well, then, hypothetically, Shaheena Driscoll is one of the top reporters at Waverwell News. And therefore, hypothetically, I suppose Shaheena Driscoll would have access to a lot of resources. Someone who works for Waverwell News and does things for her could probably hypothetically find out our email addresses. I mean, out of anything about a person, email addresses are one of the easiest to acquire."


    "So Shaheena Driscoll could have, hypothetically, emailed me about havin'' the SFPU-turned-NYTE-but-still-technically-the-SFPU-as-well-cuz-we''re-doin''-double-duty come onto Waverwell News tomorrow morning at eight am for an interview about Ashley and his case?" Charlie chewed on her lip, ignoring how Ferris''s eyes watched the movement for a brief moment before wrinkling his nose and frowning.


    "Wait, hold up," he said, closing his laptop and setting it to the side. "Shaheena Driscoll wants us to come in for an interview at eight am tomorrow?"


    Charlie nodded.


    "And you''re serious about this. Like, no kidding. One-hundred percent not joking. Cross your heart and hope to die kind of serious?"


    Charlie drew an X across her chest. "Yupperdoodles. Need proof?"


    Ferris wiggled his fingers toward himself. "Let me see the email, please."


    Charlie handed her phone over. She leaned into the couch as she let Ferris read the email Shaheena Driscoll had sent her. The glow from her phone cast a sharp glare across Ferris''s face.


    "When was this sent?"


    "A few days ago, but I forgot to check my email for a couple of days so I only saw it like ten minutes ago."


    "And you were reading it for the last ten minutes?"


    "Kinda. I was more tryin'' to figure out if it was really her who had sent it."


    "Why didn''t you check your email? Shaheena wanted to hear back yesterday." Ferris stared at her from over the top of her phone.


    "I forgot about it, Dipper!" Charlie threw her arms up in the air, sitting up on the couch, legs crossed beneath her. "I forgot about my email. And why''d she sent the stupid email to me anyway? You''re the one who''s the unofficial-official leader of the group! Shouldn''t it have gone to you? You already deal with all of the reaching out to people and stuff! Why''d it come to me? The one person who''s gonna be the one to forget my email even exists for days on end."


    "Deep breath, Springs. Fine to be angry, no need for sharp words. We''re all going through a lot right now, and everyone''s angry and upset and missing Ashley."


    But even though she knew Ferris''s words were meant to help her calm down, it had the opposite effect, and irritation slithered through her like a coiling snake, fangs flashing in the dark.


    "How the hell are you always managing to stay so calm? How are you always so unshakable?" Charlie couldn''t help the venom that oozed into her voice, slithered its way through her words. She wanted to know how Ferris was doing that. She wanted to know how she could be like that. She wanted to know how to stop having to wrestle with her feelings, how to stop having to confront the anger and the guilt she felt.


    "Because I''ve spent the last year figuring out a way to get through each day after I lost my parents."


    And that made Charlie hesitate and stop. "I... I''m sorry."


    "No need to be. You''re not responsible."


    "Do you ever just want to scream cuz the world''s so unfair?"


    Ferris nodded. "Yes." He gave a sad smile. "The world isn''t fair. Seems like the bad guys win far more than the good guys do."


    "I''ll drink to that," Charlie muttered. "Water, of course. Can''t be drinking on the job. No plans to catch a poacher while intoxicated."


    Ferris rolled his eyes with the beginnings of a laugh. "Very true."


    xxxx


    The rest of the group reacted to the news of Shaheena''s email similarly to how Ferris had¡ª mild alarm, some confusion, and a bit of apprehension.


    "So... basically Shaheena Driscoll from Waverwell News wants us to do an interview?" Ren asked after Charlie had explained what was going on, eyes narrowed.


    Charlie nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, seems like it."


    "Has Larson Hotch said anything about this? Or maybe Asa or Azrael?" Kristin asked. "I mean, should we really be chatting to the whole world about Ashley and speculating as to what might''ve happened to him in his final moments? Why someone felt the need to... to-to. To just kill him?"


    "We''re not gonna be saying everything we know. And we don''t need to speculate on things we don''t know."


    "Yeah, I know that. We know that." Kristin swung his arm around the room, gesturing to the whole group in a harsh motion. "But they don''t. Shaheena, Jaymes, everyone at Waverwell News, everyone who''s watching. They all want a story that sounds nice. And every reporter there wants to get the next top story. Who knows how they will twist what we say? They''re already focusing on the Trinity and how they''re the most violent criminals Waverwell has ever seen. Ashley''s been long left in the dust. Alaska''s probably not far behind. I''d bet Shaheena''s just invited us there to get some new things to twist and warp!"


    "Well, Shaheena doesn''t need to know for a little while. We''ve got time to figure out if we should even do this. At a minimum we can just tell people to reach out to the Moonfall Precinct if they think they have anything. Sure, like ninety-five percent will be tips that lead to a dead end. But maybe a few will add up to something good. "


    "And what about when they start rapid-fire questions?"


    "One question after the other after the other to try to trip you up and get you to say something you weren''t originally going to?" Charlie asked.


    Kristin nodded.


    "Oh, not a problem. Just don''t answer. Worked for me." She shrugged. "Or just say that you''re not going to be answering questions if you can''t understand what they''re saying¡ª just ask to have them broken up into individual questions."


    "Option two will work far better," Ferris said.


    "Have Asa and Azrael Smith okayed this?" Ren asked. "Or Larson Hotch? I''m all for an interview to plead our case, but I just want to check and ensure we will not be interfering with the investigation."


    "We... let''s ask th-them. Maybe they''ll... like the idea of-of more... tips," Zip offered.


    "I can call Larson and ask." Ferris pulled out his phone.


    "Ok, great. Let''s see what he has to say. If he says no, we don''t go. If he says yes, we go. How about that?" Charlie asked.


    "Sure," Ren said.


    Zip nodded, followed by Kristin.


    "Larson will know if this is a good idea," he murmured. "The last thing I want is to hurt Ashley''s case."


    "Which we won''t do. Ashley will get justice."


    Ferris dialed Larson''s number, and his phone rang. Each ring seemed to stretch on for hours as time warped, and each second lasted for minutes. One ring went by, then another, then another.


    And just when Charlie thought that maybe Larson wouldn''t pick up, he did.


    "Hello? This is Detective Larson Hotch from the Moonfall Precinct."


    "Hello, Larson. This is Ferris Dipper. I''m here with the rest of the SFPU."


    "Oh, hello, Ferris. How are you doing?"


    "I''m doing well. Let me put you on speaker phone. We got an email a few days ago but only saw it maybe an hour or two ago."


    "An email?" Larson asked after Ferris had placed his phone on the coffee table and switched it to speaker phone. "From Felix Fisk?"


    "No, not Felix Fisk. And this is Charlie Springs. I got the email," she said, leaning forward to get closer to Ferris''s Phone. "It was from Shaheena Driscoll. She wants to interview us. It''ll be tomorrow morning at eight am."


    Larson let out a breath. "Oh," he murmured. "Shaheena wants to do an interview with you? And I''m guessing you want to know if it''ll be a good idea?"


    "Yeah," Ferris replied.


    Larson hummed. "Well, I mean," he started slowly, "it does hold the possibility of people taking things out of context. But that said, if you were to keep it more along the lines of if you have seen anything, please send it to the Moonfall Precinct, it''ll help avoid that. And obviously don''t say anything that hasn''t already been released to the public, but I think you already know that."


    "So you think it will be ok?"


    "I think it could potentially bring in some good tips, and those could help piece together Ashley''s case and help bring those responsible to justice."


    "Thank you," Charlie said. Ferris echoed her words, along with the rest of the SFPU.


    "Of course," Larson replied. "Have a nice rest of your day, and I will be sure to update you as soon as we discover anything new."


    xxxx


    Charlie didn''t mind being in front of others.


    She had made a habit of acting out in class, drawing attention to herself, and, looking back at it, being a general nuisance to her teachers, and they were probably very glad she was an only child. Although the main reason why she often didn''t listen was because she knew it would annoy her parents. It was the only way she could try to get back at them because she knew they wouldn''t otherwise listen.


    But now, peeking out onto the stage that had been set up for the interview, Charlie''s legs trembled. The stage seemed to dauntingly big, sprawling across the ground until it looked miles long. The crowd was buzzing, droning with a hundred different conversations and made up of a sea of people so big Charlie couldn''t hope to count how many there were.


    "Are you ok?" Ren asked.


    "Yeah."


    Morpheus bumped his nose into her leg, and she scratched his head. He wore his SFPU collar that identified him as a working dog and said DO NOT TOUCH on one side, with his name on the other. Ren had also dressed him in a mini version of the dogs'' vests. They had done it so the crowd could see one of their dogs, but also to prevent people from approaching him, and the vest was small enough that Ren could still easily check on his wound from Pyr Iskie, which was healing smoothly.


    Ren hadn''t originally intended to bring Morpheus, but they didn''t want to leave him back at the camp and so they brought him along.


    Charlie rubbed her fingers across Morpheus''s ear, an outlet for her restless energy.


    Kristin paced behind her, while Zip bounced on his toes, eyes trailing across everything in sight. He wore the earbuds Ren had given him to help drown out some of the noise.


    An assistant approached the group. "Are you all ready?"


    "Yes, I believe we are."


    "Wonderful" they replied. "Here are your microphones you will be using. They are already on and have been tested. Shaheena will be inviting you out in just a few minutes."


    "Thank you," Charlie said as she took her microphone. "Let''s do this."


    xxxx


    Charlie''s nerves spiked when she heard Shaheena begin speaking.


    "Now I know you have all heard the name Ashley Baok. One of the six members of the little-known Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. Some of you may not have even heard of the group until hearing of Ashley Baok. He was murdered just a short while ago, and I have invited the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit here today to speak about him and share who he was and how his death has affected them. If you would please give a big round of applause for the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit."


    Charlie took a deep breath. This was it. No one really knew what they looked like, except for Ashley¡ª his face had already been shown to the world. After this, they wouldn''t be able to go out in public with the anonymity they used to have. They would be putting their faces out there. No more would they be able to be invisible like they had been in the past. The poachers they hunted when they returned to doing so would likely be able to recognize them.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    But it was worth it. Ashley might get answers. And it would put more of a face on who was killed by the Trinity. The effects would be seen¡ª Kristin no longer had a brother, and the rest of the group no longer had a friend. All they had of Ashley was memories and pictures, stories they could return to, not the living, breathing person they could once hug. They couldn''t get him back, but they could at least get answers.


    Charlie exhaled for one, two, three, four, and then stepped out on stage, following a couple paces behind Kristin.


    She stared out at the crowd, feeling like a deer in headlights, before she was able to snap out of it. She could hear the clapping and the cheering, and she waved out at everyone. People were spread out, distanced in neat rows, with little clusters of families. The camera crews needed the noise, the reactions of the crowds, but safety required distance.


    "Hello," she said into her microphone, flinching slightly at how loud it was.


    Charlie hadn''t realized she was frozen in place, until Ferris brushed up behind her, tugging gently on the back of her shirt. She shot him a grateful smile, and got a small one in return.


    The six chairs set out were close together, close enough to touch elbows if one stretched out just a bit. But they were separated further from Shaheena''s chair¡ª they would keep their distance from Shaheena, just like how interactions had been kept brief. Instead of discussing the logistics of the interview in person once they were there, much of it had been sent in an email the night before, along with instructions of how to get to Waverwell News, where to park, and what entrance to use.


    Charlie settled into her chair, a tall one on long legs with a short back. After sitting on it for just a few seconds, Charlie knew she would be shifting on it for most of the interview and would be beyond restless by the end ¡ªa chair like this didn''t allow for slouching or finding a comfortable position¡ª but she would somehow manage it.


    She had to.


    Shaheena was wearing a long, green dress that hung off one shoulder in neat folds, cinched at the waist. She wore black heels and sat with one leg crossed over her other. A microphone had been clipped onto her dress at her collarbone, and she held a thin stack of papers in her hands.


    "Hello, and thank you for meeting with me today. I appreciate you making the journey out to Raconteur."


    Charlie nodded. She looked out over the crowd.


    Off in the distance, she could see Wishing River and Teller''s Bridge, where she and the group had driven over earlier in the morning. Trees surrounded Raconteur, and Charlie could almost see the entirety of the town, which consisted almost entirely of press buildings, almost all of which belonged to Waverwell News or their gossip offshoot, Did You Hear?!


    "Could you please introduce yourselves and tell me a little bit about you?" Shaheena asked.


    Kristin raised his microphone to his mouth. "My name is Kristin Baok, and I am the brother of Ashley Baok."


    Ferris went next. "My name is Ferris Dipper, and I am the one who created the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit."


    Then Charlie. "Hi, everyone. My name is Charlie Springs. I know all about the wildlife in Silverlight Forest. Or Pocket Forest, if you prefer."


    Then Ren. "My name is Ren, and I train the dogs for the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. I brought Morpheus here with me today."


    Then Zip. "Hi. I''m-. uh... I''m Z-Zip Furr. I, uh, make the-the. I do the c-coding and stuff for the S-Silverlight Forest Protection Unit."


    Shaheena allowed for a pause, taking a sip of water from the glass on the little stand beside her, which also had a small vase with a bouquet of flowers in it.


    "So, Kristin," she said, "I notice that there is a sixth chair beside you. Why did you ask for it to be placed here?"


    Kristin gave the chair a long look. It looked so innocent ¡ªjust a simple piece of furniture¡ª but it held so much more than that. It held every sleepless night, every guilty what if I had done this instead?, every longing glance at the front door wondering if Ashley had known it was the last time he would leave the SFPU house, every frustrated reread of Ashley''s journal wondering what he was trying to say that he felt he had to keep to himself.


    "It''s for my brother, Ashley." Kristin rested his free hand on the back of Ashley''s chair as he spoke into his microphone. "He is the first known victim of the Trinity, but more than that, he is my brother. I''m not ever going to forget him, and I want the world to know who he was and the kind of person he was. Even though he might not be here in person, alive, he''s still here in spirit. I wanted a physical manifestation of that. There was so much more to him than just being a victim."


    "What type of person was Ashley?"


    "Ashley was the kind of person who would give the shirt off his back if it meant helping someone. He had a heart of gold and was always trying to learn new things in hopes that maybe the skill would some in handy if there was a situation in which someone needed help." Kristin smiled sadly at the ground, eyes becoming distant as he fell back into memories of his brother. His hand tightened on Ashley''s chair. "Ashley was a jack-of-all-trades who knew a little about almost everything. And he had a great sense of humor. I think Charlie can attest to that."


    "Oh, yeah," she said with a short laugh. "Ashley and I had this friendly banter. We would pull pranks on each other. I once gave him a caramel onion and chocolate covered Brussel sprouts instead of caramel apples and chocolate truffles. He got me back when he covered my bedroom in sticky notes. Don''t worry, we didn''t waste them¡ª we slowly used them over the next few months. He got me back after I hid tiny pictures of him making funny faces around the camp by putting googly eyes on the food in the fridge. I think I still have that picture on my phone¡ª I couldn''t stop laughing. Hard to eat food when it looks like it''s looking at you, but it was funny."


    A bolt of pain lanced through her heart when she remembered yet again that she wouldn''t ever get to pull another prank on him or have him pull one on her, wouldn''t ever get to have that back-and-forth with Ashley of temporarily stealing books, wouldn''t ever get to have a new pattern to figure out when she went to return a book. Ashley''s books would now collect dust in the same order they had been in when he had created the pattern that lead her to his journal, the real Pockets of Gold and Silver.


    "Ashley loved reading, too," Charlie added. "I think his whole room would''ve been covered in floor-to-ceiling stacks of books if he didn''t need a place for his bed."


    "He sounds like he was a wonderful person," Shaheena said.


    "Ashley was an amazing person," Kristin replied. "He was the best brother I could''ve ever asked for."


    "And he... was the best friend I could''ve ever... ever wanted. So kind." Zip smiled.


    Shaheena asked about the the day they found out that Ashley had been killed and what those following days had been like.


    "My world got swept out from beneath me," Kristin gritted out. "I knew something was terribly wrong in my heart, but I never would''ve guessed that it was anything like this. But we''ve been working with the Moonfall Precinct to find answers. And if any of you watching think you might know something in relation to Ashley Baok''s case, please reach out to Larson Hotch or the Moonfall Precinct. Nothing is too small, and they will look into every single tip they receive. You can find them on Muse at MoonfallPrecinctOfficial or MoonfallPrecinct.com."


    Ren lifted their microphone to their mouth. "I-." They flinched back when feedback screamed out through the speakers. "Sorry. I, uh, I... my whole world got flipped as well. I didn''t know Ashley like Kristin did, but one year is enough time for me to know how great of a person he was.


    "Have you heard of the connection to Alaska Wendell March?" Shaheena asked.


    Kristin nodded. "Yes, we have heard of it. I don''t know any details. That''s a question for Larson Hotch and the Moonfall Precinct. Ryzor Oberhofer and the Corville Precinct, too. They would be able to tell you more than I could."


    "We don''t know too much more than you guys do," Charlie said.


    It wasn''t really a lie.


    They knew more than most because they had known Ashley and were close with him. But it was an open secret that the Moonfall Precinct hadn''t told them everything, and Charlie didn''t have a problem with it¡ª she didn''t want to know the details of how Ashley had been killed. The only thing she wanted to know was why someone had felt that it was ok for Ashley to die and who they were. And she knew Larson would tell her as soon as he knew.


    Shaheena nodded. Charlie could tell it wasn''t the answer she wanted. Waverwell News wanted that next big story, but Shaheena wasn''t going to push.


    Shaheena turned her attention to Kristin. "If you could say anything you wanted to Ashley right now, what would you say?"


    A sad smile crossed Kristin''s face, and tears pooled in his eyes. "I would tell him that I love him so much," he said, voice cracking. "I would tell him that I miss him every day. I tell him say that he''s the best brother I could''ve ever asked for and that I''m so grateful I got the chance to know him, even for as short of a time as it was. I''d say that I''ll never forget the memories I have of him and how amazing his hugs were and how he''d always say that it''ll be ok, it''ll all be ok. And that I''m so sorry I couldn''t be there with him in the end to tell him that it''s ok and that he''s loved so much. But mostly I''d tell Ashley how much I love him and that I''ll never forget him and how big his heart was and that I''ll spend the rest of my life trying to honor his memory."


    "I second that," Charlie said. She hadn''t originally intended to speak¡ª she was going to let Kristin be the one who did most of the talking. But in this case, the words just kind of came.


    "I second that," she repeated. "I wasn''t Ashley''s sibling, and I wasn''t his blood family. But we had a family of our own in the SFPU. Ashley had a way of comforting you when you were feeling sad, and I swear his hugs had magical powers¡ª they could make anything better. He just kind of knew when someone was down, and he had some sixth sense on how to make you smile and feel a little better. He had such a big heart and couldn''t just let someone go through their day without even one smile."


    "If you could say anything to whoever is responsible for Ashley''s murder, what would you say?"


    "Turn your-yourself in," Zip blurted, finding the nearest camera and staring straight down it so he could speak directly to every tv tuned into Waverwell News. "I... we know what-what you... you did. Turn yourself in. Say-. Say what happened. They-they''ll listen. Larson, Asa, Az-Azrael, Moonfall Precinct. They''ll listen. Turn yourself in."


    "Turn yourself in," Kristin echoed. "I don''t know why you did what you did, and I cannot pretend to understand because I don''t. But turn yourself in and explain it all to Larson, Asa, Azrael, and those working at the Moonfall Precinct. I promise you they will listen to everything you have to say."


    Charlie nodded along, letting Zip and Kristin do the talking. She felt the same way. Of course Larson would listen¡ª he would be gathering every bit of evidence he could to slam those responsible across with the biggest list of charges Waverwell had ever seen. He''d play along, let them think he was on their side without saying what he knew. I just need to ask you a few questions to clear you, ok? People can be like that, can''t they? I understand, everyone gets angry like that sometimes. I get it, I believe you, I''m on your side.


    Her mind wandered as Kristin answered more questions. Ferris pitched in, and Ren gave their input, and Zip offered his perspective.


    Piece by piece, bits fell into place in Charlie''s head, and she let her mind work on autopilot, answering questions on occasion and waving at the crowd.


    She could feel Ferris''s gaze on her, feel the weight of his stare, but she was too far into her own head to react to it.


    She heard the low drone of his voice when he responded to something she couldn''t quite process, and she heard Shaheena say something in return, followed by the halting gait of Zip''s tone.


    "Arkreyitis," she breathed. Her microphone had been being held at her chest, and so it picked up what she said.


    "I''m sorry?" Shaheena said, raising an eyebrow and patiently waiting for Charlie to continue.


    "Arkreyitis," she repeated, still too far in her head for her mind to work as fast as her tongue. "That''s what the disease should be called. Right?"


    "I''m afraid I do not follow."


    Everyone thought differently, she reminded herself. Not everyone had a brain that worked like hers did.


    "Those claims the whistleblower made, right? That Leviathan Inc. is, allegedly, responsible for this disease rampagin'' across Waverwell, and it''s caused by Arkreon. If that''s the case, shouldn''t we name the disease after Arkreon?"


    Everyone went quiet. The world was silent enough that Charlie could hear exhales, hear the soft rippling of Wishing River off in the distance.


    Ferris stared at her, a thousand emotions flickering across his eyes. Kristin glared at her. Ren gazed up over the crowd, expression unreadable. Zip looked at her, something sad in his expression.


    What? she silently asked Ferris.


    He leaned over to whisper in her ear, microphone down by his thigh to keep his words between him and Charlie. "You kinda just confirmed Arkreon is the cause of the disease. But there is no proof, not that many will care. You just made the story we were trying to avoid."


    Charlie tucked her own microphone behind her back. "I didn''t say anything for certain. I was talkin'' about the whistleblower''s claims. They''re claims, not proven facts."


    "I know that," Ferris replied. "We know that. But many don''t know that or don''t care. It''s not that hard to take words out of context to spin the story you want to tell. Doesn''t matter that nothing has been confirmed, that at this moment, it''s little more than a theory. People just want a good story to entertain them. You know, good tv. Don''t care what it''s about, just something entertaining?"


    Charlie chewed on her lip for a moment. "I guess."


    "So you''re saying that the disease has been caused by Arkreon?" Shaheena asked.


    Charlie shrugged, bringing her microphone back to her mouth. "Not saying that¡ª I don''t know. ''Till things are confirmed, can''t say anythin'' for sure. It''s a maybe until somethin'' says yes or no."


    Someone tiptoed out on stage, an assistant dressed in black with a headset over both ears. They ducked behind Shaheena''s side, whispering something in her ear.


    She murmured a soft reply, hand over the microphone clipped to her dress.


    The assistant shook their head, a clear no, before scurrying back off the stage, staying low to the ground.


    "I''m very sorry," Shaheeha said, "but I''m afraid that is all the time we have for the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit today."


    She kept a warm, pleasant smile on her face.


    "Let''s go to break," she said, and an assistant said something into their headset.


    Charlie returned to her head, shoved back into full reality. Panic snapped shut around her chest, and claws squeezed her heart. Nausea churned in her gut, and her muscles trembled with the urge to run.


    Charlie kept her expression warm, falling back onto the practice she had as a kid, masking her emotions until they were buried so far deep she could no longer feel them and she could smile no matter what. Nothing would show on the outside except for warmth.


    But she knew she had done something she shouldn''t have¡ª she hadn''t spoken in just facts.


    Ferris was right. People could twist the story to say whatever they wanted. Pluck out statements without context as proof of their own beliefs, because many would not go find the original article or video.


    No one would say anything now. The crowd and anyone watching needed to see that everything was fine, even if it was a lie. They didn''t need to know what was really happening, although Charlie was sure some would be able to guess.


    A wave of murmurs swept across the crowd, and people turned to each other, looks of confusion drifting across their faces. Questions of the interview they had been promised, meeting the group they had wanted to and had paid to see.


    Shaheena turned to face partway backward on the stage and speak with an assistant.


    "Hey!" Charlie said into her microphone, putting on a big smile. "We''ll be creating a group Muse account. It''ll be called NYTE. N-Y-T-E, all caps. Send us all your questions that didn''t get answered today, and we''ll be responding later today, alright? You''ll get to meet us, ok? We''ll tell you all about us, I promise."


    She lifted her phone and waved it in the air, then opened up Muse and signed in using her spare email, the one she was shocked was still working.


    Almost immediately after she had typed in all of the information and created the NYTE Muse account, follow notifications started pouring in and the inbox started piling up with questions ranging from how the SFPU got created to favorite book to what fruit they would each be to dating life. Some Charlie knew would be easy answers, others would be funny, and others would be no-gos on sharing.


    "Think that just saved everyone from a massive headache," Ferris murmured in her ear, microphone in his lap. "Nice quick thinking on creating a Muse account. We can keep an eye on the whole Arkreon thing over the next few days. I know you didn''t mean anything by it, but it could quickly get out of hand."


    "No one''s more frustrated than me, you know," she grumbled back, smiling when someone waved their hand and held up their phone. "Can''t hate it more than me when my tongue works faster than my mouth. I know there''s no proof. Tongue didn''t care though."


    "I know."


    "You can lash out at me, Dipper."


    "I know," he repeated through a smile of his own for the crowd.


    "You can." Charlie looked away when Ren shot her a worried look and made a shoo motion with her hand.


    They ran Morpheus through a series of basic commands for the crowd. Sit, stand, left, right, down, come. Easy entertainment.


    "I know, and I know no one will beat you up more than you will. I know you didn''t mean to, and we will figure it out. I wish you hadn''t said all of that without definite proof, but we can''t change the past. No use stressing over things you cannot change, so we will focus on what we can change."


    Charlie hummed.


    She straightened in her chair when Shaheena turned back, shifting on it until she was a bit more comfortable and wishing yet again that there was a higher back to it.


    "Can we give it up for the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit once more?" Shaheena clapped her hands together, starting off the round of applause.


    Kristin stood up. "Thank you all for coming today. I greatly appreciate it. If you have any information about Ashley Baok, please send it to the Moonfall Precinct, either in-person at the station, on Muse at MoonfallPrecinctOfficial, or on their website at MoonfallPrecinct.com. And remember: nothing is too small! Thank you again, and like Charlie said, we will be answering some of your questions later today."


    "Thank you," Ferris said, following Kristin, and Ren and Zip echoed the sentiment.


    Charlie took a deep breath as she trailed a few steps behind Zip.


    She was stalling, she knew. Prolonging the time it took to get off the stage. But she wanted to drink it all in. Soak it all up so she never forgot. Embed it all into her brain, the deepest, darkest parts of her mind where the touch of time and age could never reach.


    The energy of the crowd. The roar of their cheers. The spotlights blinding her. How high she felt, riding on the glee of being in front of hundreds of people and having them be there to see her. They took time out of their day to come see her and her friends. They cared what she had to say. They wanted to listen to her. They wanted to see her.


    Even if it had ended in a slip-up, words she hadn''t meant to say, words that slipped out before she had been able to think them through.


    A part of Charlie wished her parents were there. She wished they could see her on the stage, see the crowd cheering as she waved, see the flash of cameras as photos were snapped and saved.


    She wanted them to see that she was successful. See that proof that Charlie Springs could become something.


    But the other part of her didn''t want her parents to be there. She didn''t want them anywhere near her. She didn''t want their veiled disgust to rub off on her and turn her into something she hated.


    xxxx

 me84 - Chapter 13 Part 2 - Charlie Springs - A Star to a Space Heater

    This is PART 2 of Chapter 13 - A Star to a Space Heater! Please make sure you have read Part 1 first, or else this will make an awful lot less sense!


    TRIGGER WARNING: descriptions of child abuse in memories (emotional manipulation, nothing physical), summary at the end and bolded notification at the start


    Inside wasn''t much better.


    The hallways felt long and slow, simultaneously tiny and far too wide. The floors were covered in brown carpets with neat, geometric patterns, and pictures had been hung on the walls, varying from Raconteur cityscapes, to Waverwell''s flag of the green bear, to trees, to views of the Twin Mountains and Cat''s Cradle. Corville appeared every so often, including skillful photos of Waverwell''s government building. Doors were spaced out, leading to offices, filming studios, meeting rooms, and other buildings. As they drew closer to the main entrance, chairs and benches had been fitted against the walls.


    Charlie''s skin still crawled, and her hands were curled into tight fists, the only outlet for her energy since she couldn''t run.


    "Breathe, Charlie," Ferris murmured. "No one is angry with you."


    "No," she sneered back. "You''re not angry, you''re disappointed. You don''t have to pretend. I''ve been down this road enough. My tongue got the better of me, and now you''re disappointed in my actions. Just cut to it so we can get this over with."


    "I assure you, I''m not. We will figure this out, and the first step of that is seeing just what was released onto television and what is out there. It all depends on what Waverwell News aired and what people who were in the live audience put onto Muse and shared with friends."


    "Uh, huh, fine," Charlie mumbled.


    Someone was sitting on one of the chairs, and Charlie thought they looked familiar. She frowned, racking her brain for who it could be, until it hit her.


    They looked just like Alaska Wendell March... only not.


    Kansas Sampson March had mousy brown hair that was tangled into knots, and bags dark enough to mirror bruises hung beneath her eyes. Her clothes were rumpled, and Charlie was pretty sure Kansas''s shirt was inside out beneath her wrinkled sweatshirt.


    She took a long drink from a to-go cup of coffee. Charlie guessed it wasn''t her first from how jittery she was.


    When Kansas saw NYTE, she leapt up from her chair, reaching out a shaky arm. "Wait!" she cried as she weaved through the throng of bustling people.


    "Yeah?" Charlie replied.


    "Are you that.... Oh, I''m sorry. What is it. That-. That group." She frowned, fingers on her chin. Charlie wondered when the last time she slept was. "Ashley Baok?" she asked with a hopeful look.


    "He''s my brother," Kristin said, head raising in what Charlie knew to be a slightly defensive posture that he sometimes adopted when he wasn''t sure what to expect. His back straightened, and his gaze hardened.


    "I''m sorry."


    "Are you Kansas Sampson March?" Charlie asked. She was nearly certain ¡ªthe resemblance to Alaska Wendell March was very close¡ª but she wasn''t completely certain.


    "Yeah," she murmured, gaze falling to the ground. She wore a pair of red sneakers that reminded Charlie of the ones Ashley used to always wear.


    "I''m sorry about Alaska," Ferris offered. "Although I''m sure you''ve already heard that many, many times."


    Kansas nodded. "Yeah, I''ve heard it a bunch." Her shoulders fell, and her whole body seemed to deflate like a popped balloon.


    She took a step back, and the group followed.


    "I... I''m-. A-A-Alaska was a... a great person, I-I''m s-sure," Zip offered.


    "Yeah." A smile tugged at Kansas''s mouth, and her gaze turned distant as her face lightened. "She was an amazing person. Heart of gold. Best sister I could''ve ever asked for. She was such a hard worker. She wanted to become a veterinarian so she could turn her love for dogs into a job. She would''ve been such a great vet." Kansas slowly sank back into her chair, fist pressed to her mouth.


    They were now all at the edge of the hallway, close to the entrance of the main Waverwell News building, but far enough away that they were out of sight and in a slightly more private environment. The crowd of people had slowed, leaving only small groups coming and going every so often.


    "I''m sure she would''ve been a wonderful vet," Ferris murmured.


    "I heard Ashley was murdered by the Trinity." It wasn''t a question¡ª Charlie didn''t have to have been out in the world much to know that nearly everyone knew Ashley''s name and the picture of him smiling as he posed by the Waverwell government building, the one Kristin had eventually landed on to give to Waverwell News after being asked. He hadn''t been sure which picture of his brother to select.


    Muse was crawling with people saying how sad it was the Trinity was out there and has killed someone, how horrible it was that people were capable of something as despicable as taking a life, how they were no longer human, questions of what would drive someone to cross that line and commit an act as heinous as a murder. Charlie hoped that their interview would shift even just a little of the focus back onto Ashley, to remind people that there was far more to him than how his life ended at the hands of monsters.


    "He... he was." Kristin''s voice trailed off to a hoarse whisper.


    "Alaska was too." Kansas stared off into the distance. Her voice was flat, but the pain and darkness in her expression were anything but. "I... you know how you can know something in your heart for certain before it''s ever confirmed? I knew that about Alaska. I knew something terrible had happened to her. I didn''t need an officer to tell me something had happened to my sister, because I already knew in my gut. Still would''ve never guessed dead in a million years, though. How can you guess that about a family member? They could be gone for years and years and years and you''d still cling to some small threat of hope that you''d find them alive, even when everything was saying it was impossible for them to survive. You can know it in your heart, but there''s that difference between knowing it''s true, and-. And saying it out loud, even when you know there''s no logical way they''re alive. You don''t want them to be gone like that. You want that fantasy where they''re just living their life on some beach sipping from those umbrella drinks, even though there''s no way they wouldn''t contact you unless they were dead. Cuz they''re your family¡ª how are you supposed to think they''re dead?"


    "You can''t." Kristin''s voice was barely a breath, barely audible.


    "You can''t!" Kansas echoed. "I was sure I was hearing wrong when Ryzor Oberhofer showed up to my door and told me that my sister had been murdered. I mean, how are you supposed to believe that? You can''t! And then... and then he told me this morning that it was the Trinity. The Trinity, this trio of monsters that have killed at least Ashley and Alaska, maybe more. It''s bad enough hearing that your sister was murdered, adds some other level of horrible when you don''t even know who did it. Can''t get whatever closure knowing what happened might bring, if it even would. I mean, I thought it was Alaska''s ex-boyfriend. Ryzor did too at first. They didn''t have a good relationship, and he was always asking to get back together. Never liked it when she said no. Got real pushy about it and got so angry when she befriended another male coworker. Nearly sent him to the hospital. I was so glad when he got fired¡ª Alaska was always so nervous with him, so on edge."


    The words flowed from Kansas like a river overflowing with pain and grief.


    Charlie just stood there and listened, let Kansas say whatever she needed to. No one butted in or told her to stop.


    "I... I just felt like I needed to come here. Heard you were... you were gonna be here." Kansas pulled her sweatshirt sleeve over one of her hands and twisted it in her grip, knuckles white as her lip trembled and shook. "I wanted to see you. Don''t really know why. Maybe it was just because it felt like you were the only ones who might understand. People are nice and all, but there''s only so many times you can hear I''m sorry for your loss and Alaska was such a kind person before you start twitching. And they might miss Alaska and of course they do, but they didn''t spend so much time with her. They can''t get it. And I guess this just felt like doing something. I know it won''t get answers cuz I know if you knew who the Trinity was and why Ashley was murdered, it would be plastered across the country for everyone to see. Clips of the Trinity being led away in handcuffs would be everywhere, even though I know that will only cement the Trinity in history and leave Ashley and Alaska as footnotes."


    Kansas sighed. "Time and place for the villains, but I want to see the heroes. I know Alaska fought back. I know she clawed and kicked with everything she had. I know she would''ve never made it easy. My sister is a hero. She did what she felt she needed to do to try to survive. But the Trinity didn''t let her. They took her life over some reason that will never make sense."


    "Alaska is a hero," Ren said.


    "She is," Ferris agreed, and Charlie nodded¡ª Alaska was a hero. Ashley, too.


    "What are they doing to find them?" Kansas asked, hunched over her lap, body curled up in a position that reminded Charlie of a prayer.


    No one needed clarification. What are they doing to find the Trinity? The murderers who had taken at least two lives, potentially more.


    "I know Larson Hotch from the Moonfall Precinct, as well as Asa and Azrael Smith and the rest of the task force for Ashley Baok''s case have been compiling a timeline for Ashley''s past, interviewing everyone he had come in contact with, and they have been looking into the witness to Ashley''s murder. I''m assuming Ryzor Oberhofer and the Corville Precinct are doing something similar for Alaska''s case, of course tailored to fit her life and the information they''ve gathered from the scene of her, uh, murder." Ferris tripped over the last words, and Kansas flinched.


    It was so brutal, so final, left so little to the imagination. Nothing about it was an accident, every letter, every syllable, every detail was intentional, whether pondered long in advance or decided upon in a split second. There was nothing to second-guess, no other alternatives. Everything was so final.


    "Have they found the witness? They might know what the Trinity looks like." Kansas looked up from her folded hands, tired eyes full of dull sparks of hope.


    Charlie felt the group hesitate collectively.


    Someone had caught wind of Felix Fisk''s name and had released it.


    "Yeah," Charlie replied. "It wasn''t supposed to be released, but yeah, the Moonfall Precinct knows who he is. They weren''t going to release his identity to keep him safe considering the threat the Trinity poses."


    The corner of Kansas''s mouth pulled down into a grimace, and she exhaled a sharp breath. "That''s..." she took another breath. "That''s not good. And I don''t even know what to say."


    She sat up, running a hand through her hair. A finger caught on a knot. "I can''t even keep it together. I''m a mess. I could hardly get myself dressed, and my shirt is inside out and I nearly put my shoes on the wrong feet and I couldn''t even brush my hair. How am I supposed to find who did this to my sister if I can''t even look presentable?"


    Kristin folded himself to the ground, crossing his legs and resting his forearms on his knees.


    Charlie didn''t know what to say. She missed Ashley every second of every day and it hurt like hell... but Ashley wasn''t her brother. He was just a very close friend.


    But Kristin could relate on a more personal level, beyond how Charlie could.


    The hallway was empty, and it felt so crushingly still and quiet. The silence that felt like it was a screaming, yawning void of painful empty. Some space that couldn''t be filled, no matter how much was dumped into it.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "Can I pet him? I know it says DO NOT TOUCH on his collar, but..." Kansas trailed off. She reached out a hand toward Morpheus.


    Ren glanced down at him, and he lifted his head, as if sensing their attention. His grey eyes stared evenly at Ren, patiently waiting for a command.


    "Ok," they said, then gave Morpheus a pointed look. "Release."


    Kansas slid off the chair, dropping to her knees, and Morpheus took a few steps toward her before sitting down. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and then she just crumbled to pieces. Sobs wracked her body, and her fingers curled into his fur.


    Charlie''s nose burned at the sight, and her eyes stung with the first prickles of tears.


    It reminded her of that day at the Moonfall Precinct, when they had all first found out why Ashley hadn''t been responding. How Kristin had crumpled to the ground like a house of cards when he realized the person he was looking at was his brother. How it had taken him ages to be able to stand, to speak, to form any sort of thought.


    It had crushed Charlie, and she didn''t know what it had felt like for Kristin. She knew it was a different kind of pain¡ª both hurt like hell, but family had a bond different from friendship.


    At least, that''s what Charlie had been told. Family and friends were the same to her¡ª she had forgotten her parents the day she left.


    Someone walked by, pausing when they heard Kansas''s sobs, and Ferris waved them on, silently shaking his head. Everything''s ok.


    Kind of a lie¡ª no, not everything was ok. But it wasn''t something they''d be able to help with. Kansas just needed a moment to get it all out.


    The group kept their places as a kind-of human shield around Kansas, giving her a little privacy, and eventually the hitches in her breaths slowed.


    She rested her forehead against Morpheus''s shoulder, before pulling back. Her eyes were red, and she wiped at them with the backs of her hands, before wrinkling her nose when Morpheus licked at her cheek.


    "That tickles," she croaked with a weak laugh, but it brought a bit of light to her eyes. "But thanks."


    Charlie glanced at Ren, who had narrowed their eyes. Morpheus wasn''t supposed to have done that, but she didn''t think Ren would say anything¡ª meeting someone who''s sister had been killed by the same trio who had killed a friend wasn''t the time for scolding a dog for minor misbehavior.


    "I''m sorry," Kansas said. The bags under her eyes only seemed to have grown darker.


    "Don''t be. I don''t think I''ve slept for more than an hour at a time since Ashley died. If that." Kristin shook his head, chewing on his lip. "Want to though. Maybe some day I''ll be able to sleep through the night, but that feels impossible."


    "I don''t think I''ve slept at all. If any of this," Kansas scoffed, gesturing to her whole body, "is any indication."


    "Zip had to talk me into a shower before this. Said that no one wanted to do anything cuz we all just felt numb and like we were floating in a nightmare, but that it might help Ashley''s case so we needed to clean up for the interview. Harsh, but it worked. I took a shower, even if I think it was more of standing under the water than actually bathing. Don''t apologize for stuff¡ª we get it, even if we might not know the exact way you''re feeling."


    "Sucks that we''re in the same boat, but it''s nice to not feel so alone."


    "Exactly."


    "Do you guys have Muse?" Kansas asked, pulling out her phone.


    "We have a group page. NYTE, all caps, N-Y-T-E," Charlie replied.


    They exchanged information, and personal Muse accounts were created or logged into. KansasMarch for Kansas, 8-Ball for Charlie, Hades101 for Zip, RedSneaker65 for Kristin, ToryFairy77 for Ferris, and SomMorPyx for Ren.


    "I just created the group chat." Kansas smiled, face lightening some.


    Charlie''s phone dinged, and a Hello notification popped up on her lock screen from a KansasMarch, then with a hi reply from RedSneaker65.


    Dealing with a friend''s murder wasn''t a boat she wanted to be in, but since she needed to, she wanted to have her friends with her so she wasn''t so alone.


    They could just chat, say little more than hey and know that they were thinking of each other, have that connection to those that would be able to understand.


    Kansas''s phone rang, and she said it was Ryzor Oberhofer and that she needed to go. They wished each other a quick goodbye before Kansas rushed off.


    xxxx


    The parking lot of Waverwell News was packed near the entrance, but soon emptied out to just a handful of cars scattered across the sprawling area.


    A smattering of people rushed up to NYTE as they walked outside.


    "It''s you! I''m so sorry about Ashley! I wish we had more time. The interview got cut short!"


    Kristin took a subtle step back when someone tried to hug him. "No, thank you," he said.


    "Do you know who did it?"


    "Ashley was murdered by the Trinity," Ferris replied, sticking with the pure facts and things that had already been released to the public.


    "What can you tell me about the Silverlight Pack? What are the wolves'' names again?" someone asked Charlie.


    She was about to reply, when she looked up over their head and saw two people, one taller than the other and both dressed in mock fancy clothes, a knock-off brand cheaper than the luxury equivalent.


    Her blood ran cold.


    "I''m sorry, we''re leaving," she bit out loudly.


    Half of Charlie wanted to freeze, drop her gaze to the ground and tilt her head to the side. She wanted to just say yes because it was easier.


    But the other half wanted to scream, and she knew she couldn''t. Not with so many people around.


    So she just gave her most withering glare and then turned her back and walked away.


    There were better things to spend her energy on.


    Like ignoring the way her heart fluttered and pounded in her chest like a bird trapped in a too-small cage.


    xxxx


    *Start of trigger warning section*


    But by the time NYTE had driven back to the camp, Charlie was holding onto the very end of a quickly fraying thread.


    As soon as Zip had brought the car to a smooth stop in the courtyard of the camp, she all but sprinted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.


    Tears burned in Charlie''s eyes as she gripped the edge of the sink and stared into the mirror. Ferris knocked on the bathroom door, but Charlie called him away, saying that she was fine and just needed some space.


    Charlie gazed at the reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail. But her mind''s eye kept flickering back to those two faces she saw in the parking lot.


    She knew those faces. She knew them well. She had seen them every day of her life until she ran away.


    And those faces roused the beast she had long put to sleep in the abyss of her mind. It reared its ugly head and spouted the torrent of emotions she had jammed down its throat. Memories oozed from its sloughing skin, each worse than the last. As Charlie''s vision flickered between the real world and the images shown by the beast, she bared her teeth and paced.


    "It was Beverley and Richmond," Charlie whimpered to her reflection, hating how she had been reduced to some sniffling thing, not the person who would walk straight through fire without blinking.


    How was she supposed to prove them wrong when she was being exactly who they said she was?


    Charlie was being Rose, not the person who wouldn''t be anything Rose was.


    She couldn''t.


    She couldn''t be Rose.


    It would mean betraying the promise she made to herself on the night she left that Beverley and Richmond would no longer have any hold over her. She would cut every string tying herself to them and be her own person and figure out, far later than she should have, who she was and what she liked, not what she felt she should like.


    Rose Hendricks wasn''t a real person. Rose Hendricks had never existed. Rose Hendricks couldn''t be Charlie Springs. Couldn''t have any effect on Charlie Springs, because Rose Hendricks was a figment of the imaginations of Beverley and Richmond Hendricks.


    "I''m so sorry," Charlie whispered to her reflection, and the person in the mirror just stared back.


    They didn''t speak, and Charlie was grateful. She didn''t want to explain what Beverley and Richmond had done. How much they had messed with Charlie''s head. How they had made it so Charlie couldn''t see her own worth as a person beyond her looks and the clothes she wore. Everything except who she was on the inside.


    How long it had taken Charlie to realize that the reason she never recognized her reflection in the mirror was because the person staring back at her was that little kid who had been told she wasn''t enough. That little kid who was trying so hard to win her parents'' approval and be told that yes, she had done a good job. To get that validation Charlie now knew that little kid would never receive.


    Because the person her parents wanted was someone who could never exist. Their little Rose had never been born.


    Rose Hendricks did not exist.


    Rose Hendricks was a fake person Charlie had impersonated out of fear. The reflection Charlie saw in the mirror had spent years living as Rose Hendricks, and it twisted her into knots until she couldn''t tell which way was up or how to come back up for air. It had chipped away at her soul until she was holding only shattered pieces in her hands as blood dripped through her fingertips. It broke her down until she didn''t know what was Rose and what was herself.


    Charlie Springs was a star. A bright, brilliant star who could light up the sky. A personality so big and full of life and love and laughter that it couldn''t be contained.


    But there was safety in Rose Hendricks. Safety that Charlie Springs could not offer¡ª Charlie Springs would be recognized. Charlie Springs would draw attention, and Rose Hendricks would not. Charlie Springs would puff out her chest like a peacock and dance across the stage, and Rose Hendricks would duck her head and sit quietly in the corner.


    And so she turned herself down until the star was a space heater.


    Until Charlie Springs didn''t shine so bright and Rose Hendricks could take over.


    Rose had become so embedded in her very being that she did not know how to separate Rose Hendricks from Charlie Springs.


    What did she really like, and what did she just feel that she should like? What did she really want, and what did she just feel that she should want?


    Everything had become so tangled up that she didn''t know how to straighten it out and figure out who Charlie Springs was. Because she knew she was Charlie Springs, but she didn''t know who Charlie Springs was.


    "I''m so sorry," Charlie whispered to the reflection in the mirror. "I''m so sorry."


    She traced her fingertips down the mirror and then placed her palm next to the reflection''s face, watching how their palms lined up.


    "Hey, there." A tear rolled down her cheek.


    "I wish I could''ve told you then that you would never win Beverley and Richmond''s approval," she choked out. "I wish I could''ve told you then that no matter how hard you tried to be their Rose, it would never be enough. Nothin'' we did would ever make us Rose. The frilly dresses and pretty bows... those were just bandages. Costumes for us to play as someone else. We were tryna live in a skin that was just too small. What we did back then was survival. We might not have been in danger of physical injury, but it sure as hell stopped a lot of fights."


    Charlie trailed off as memories washed over her, and she squeezed her eyes shut to force them to subside. She didn''t want to see any of them. Not now, not with the raw memories of Ashley still trying to begin to stop bleeding quite so much.


    It took time to build up a tolerance to the memories, to the pain. She had that for Beverley and Richmond, but not for Ashley.


    She didn''t need scabbed wounds peeling free.


    She sank to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest and folding her arms atop, head on her elbows.


    "Why''d you haf''ta do that to me?" Charlie ground out into the silence of the bathroom. The tile was cool beneath her, and she focused on the sensation to keep her from getting lost in the riptide of her spinning mind. "I was a kid. I didn''t understand. I couldn''t understand."


    Her voice cracked.


    "I was just a kid."


    xxxx


    "Charlie? You ok in there?" Ferris rapped his knuckles softly against the bathroom door.


    "I''m fine." She stood up and faced the direction of Ferris.


    "You want a hug or something?"


    "No." Yes.


    "It''s ok to want things purely because you want them."


    "I know," Charlie grumbled, forehead against the door.


    She could sense Ferris leaning against the doorframe on the opposite side, waiting patiently, and she hated how well he knew her. But at the same time, she was happy he wasn''t just taking her at face value. Accepting what she said when she knew so much of it was Rose speaking, not Charlie.


    And so, after a moment, she let herself open the bathroom door and let Ferris step through, bringing her into a hug, movements slow enough that she could pull away. But she didn''t.


    She didn''t want the comfort.


    She didn''t want his arms around her.


    She didn''t want to feel the way his fingers curled into her shirt or the way he tucked his nose into the curve of her neck.


    She didn''t want to know that he was getting comfort too, just for a different reason.


    But Ferris''s touch chased away the memories of hands snapping shut on her arms that took away her ability to escape. Cold words barked out that made her freeze and drop to the ground. Fingers digging into her flesh like claws. Limbs pinning her down when she tried to fight back.


    When Charlie''s sides shook with a trembling inhale, Ferris just held on tighter, not saying a word.


    She clung to him, trying to hold on against the current of memories and emotions that she didn''t know how to face down, stand head on and confront them. She knew Ferris was doing the same thing¡ª try to hang on and work through Ashley''s murder. After she had run away, Charlie had barely known how to deal with what Beverley and Richmond had done, much less now deal with a friend''s murder and now the reawakened monster of her childhood memories of what should''ve been her parents.


    "It''ll be ok," Ferris whispered after a while. "I don''t know what they did to you. I only know what you''ve told me, and I know that''s only the surface. But we''re all here. It''ll be ok. It''ll all be ok."


    "Will it?" Charlie wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that the memories would subside. Wanted to believe that she would one day be able to see Beverley and Richmond and not have to remember all of the bad times.


    "Yes."


    Charlie took a breath. "Ok."


    She rested her cheek against Ferris''s shoulder. Later, she would probably laugh at the fact that they were hugging in the NYTE house''s bathroom out of all places, but for now she just soaked in the comfort she could get from a tight hug.


    It wasn''t an Ashley hug, but it was enough.


    Summary: Charlie saw her parents (Beverley and Richmond Hendricks) in the parking lot of Waverwell News. After returning home to the NYTE camp, she closed herself in the bathroom and remembered what her parents had done and how she had acted as Rose Hendricks, the person her parents wanted her to be and had named her as a baby, and how it had greatly affected her mental state and how she didn''t know how to deal with it


    Later, Ferris knocked on the bathroom door to check on her and they hugged. Ferris told her that while he didn''t know everything her parents had done, only what she had told him, that all of NYTE was there for her and that it would be ok, she wasn''t alone.


    Welp... this is the longest chapter I''ve ever written, at a whopping 11k words. First time I''ve felt the need to split a chapter in two as well (and first time I''ve done so)! Quite the monster of a chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it! Please comment and consider a favorite/follow if you liked it!


    What will come of the interview?


    What about that slip-up Charlie made where she named the disease, despite not knowing whether or not Arkreon is the culprit or if the two are even related? The whistleblower''s claims are still just claims- there''s nothing that confirms or denies their validity


    What did you think of Kansas?


    Poor Charlie... she''s had quite the day. Seeing her parents certainly didn''t help. Seems like Ferris was able to help her calm down some. Can''t give an Ashley hug, but it seems his was enough


    What do you think of Beverley and Richmond?


    I hope you have a great weekend!


    -Werewolf14- :)

 me84 - Chapter 14 - Chad Malcolm - A Serpent in a Teakettle

    Chapter 14


    CHAD MALCOLM


    Chad Malcolm needed to find his wife.


    He had been relaxing in their joint office, enjoying a to-go container of an omelet, toast, and bacon that his chef had prepared as an easy breakfast, and Waverwell News had been playing on his computer monitor.


    It was supposed to be a relaxing morning. A slower morning. A morning where he took a bit of time for himself to reset and where he could ease into his day. A morning of rest after so many countless hours of trying to do damage control and begin formulating a plan as to how he could begin to restore the name of Leviathan Inc. after the whistleblower''s horrendous claims.


    Taking a break didn''t sit well with him, but he needed just a little time to himself so he could work at full capacity and throw himself entirely into rebuilding the name of Leviathan Inc. so it could once more have the same trust and prestige it once held.


    Leviathan Inc. would return as the history-making company it once was.


    Chad would make sure of it.


    He had built Leviathan Inc. from nothing once. He could build it again from something.


    He would show people that Arkreon was never the cause of the disease.


    He had seen the documentation of the testing Arkreon had gone through.


    But right now he needed to find Darcy. He needed to find his wife.


    xxxx


    Darcy Malcolm was in Malibu Hide''s office.


    It had hardly taken more than a few minutes to walk through the hallways of the Corville headquarters. The disease had nearly halved the already far fewer number of people working in the building. After the whistleblower''s claims, many had left, and the disease had only dropped the employee count working in-person. Many were doing their work from home, following the recommendations from the Corville Medical Center and other top research groups.


    "Oh, thank goodness. I didn''t know where you were, honey," Chad breathed as he walked through the doorway.


    Darcy turned around. "Hello, sweetheart. How are you doing?"


    "I am doing well. I was looking for you."


    Malibu stood up and began gathering her stuff when Chad looked at her. "Do you need the room?"


    "Please," Chad replied.


    "I will be back later." She ducked her head in a goodbye, tucking her water bottle beneath her arm and looping her keyring around a finger as she pulled together a stack of papers she needed to go through. "You can have the room for as long as you need."


    "See you later, Malibu." Darcy wiggled her manicured fingers in farewell before turning her attention to Chad.


    She stood up from her chair, turning to face her husband. It was clear her assistants had spent a long while in the morning helping her get ready. With eyeshadow and mascara applied in perfection, hair curling around her face in a look that was both innocent and powerful, and ruby necklace hanging around her neck, Darcy could clear her throat, grab the attention of a room, and hold it with ease. It was clear she was a CEO.


    "What''s going on, Chad?"


    "Did you see the interview with the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"


    Darcy shook her head. "No, I have not. What did they say?"


    "One of them ¡ªa Charlie Springs¡ª named the disease!"


    "Deep breaths. We will figure this out. We will rebuild Leviathan Inc. bigger and greater than ever before."


    Chad ran his hands over his face. "I know, I know. But she named it Arkreyitis! After Arkreon. You know that''s not true!"


    "I know it isn''t. I was there. Every bit of documentation shows that Arkreon does not cause any harm to human health."


    Darcy reached up, placing a hand on Chad''s cheek. She guided him to look down at her, and he complied. Her eyes were soft and calming, reassuring him that everything would be ok.


    She echoed the thought. "It will be ok, honey."


    But Chad pulled away, taking a few steps back.


    Stress was building in him, no outlet, nowhere to go. It was the rising head of the serpent in a teakettle beginning to boil. Soon the serpent would break free, fangs flashing and water spilling in bubbling waves.


    "I thought we solved this!" Chad cried. "I thought we made sure this could never happen!"


    He ran a hand through his hair and then flexed his fingers.


    How was he supposed to save his company when the whistleblower wouldn''t take back their claims? Didn''t they know how hard he had worked to build this company? Didn''t they know how much he cared about his employees? Didn''t they know the effects that Leviathan Inc. shutting down would have? Didn''t they know that Leviathan Inc. employed nearly one-fifth of Waverwell''s population at ninety-thousand employees?


    He gave his wife a pleading look, hoping that perhaps she would have some magical solution. Something that he hadn''t thought of. She was smart like that. She would have some idea.


    "We did, honey," Darcy smoothed, running her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. Rubbing his back, she leaned in close, breath ghosting across his neck. "We made sure Arkreon was safe, remember?"


    She pressed a gentle kiss to his pulse point, and Chad wrapped his arms around her waist.


    "I remember."


    They did, he told himself. They did make sure it was safe. They did all those tests, hired all those scientists. They couldn''t rightfully start using a previously unknown energy source without testing it to ensure it was safe.


    Who cared if it burned brighter and longer than coal if it would make people sick.


    Arkreon was safe.


    Darcy had shown him the documentation, all the results of the tests, every reading on what was released when Arkreon was burned, everything, and Chad had poured over it, going through every page in detail again and again until he was certain that there wasn''t a threat to human health. That the risks of burning Arkreon were minimized in every aspect.


    He relaxed further into Darcy''s embrace when she nuzzled into his neck with another soft kiss. She hooked her chin over his shoulder and ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. "Breathe. Everything will be ok."


    "Everything will be ok," he echoed, words whispered into Darcy''s hair.


    He repeated it again, convincing himself of the fact. "Everything will be ok."


    "Of course," Darcy cooed, thumb stroking the back of his neck. "Why don''t you go take a walk and get yourself a coffee? The Morning Jitters is open just a few blocks down the street. How about that?"


    "That''s a good idea," Chad replied, mostly speaking to himself. "I should do that. I can''t help Leviathan Inc. if my mind is too twisted up."


    xxxx


    Chad and Darcy were invisible to most of the world. Known by everyone, but simultaneously known by no one. Everyone knew their names, but no one knew who they were.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Countless photos and videos had been taken of them, but unless they were labeled, no one would know who they were. Are Chad and Darcy those two? was the most common response to a photo with a finger pointing at two people as a guess. Most of the time, the guess was wrong.


    And Chad didn''t mind it that way. He and Darcy could enjoy a private dinner in a crowded restaurant without anyone giving them a second look. They could choose when to be noticed and when to remain anonymous. Everything was up to them.


    Other celebrities didn''t have that luxury. Cynthia Corville certainly didn''t. But he did, and he was glad. He could choose when he dealt with the mobs of flashing cameras and when he could walk amongst everyone else as if he were one of them, not half of the two CEOs of Leviathan Inc.


    He could choose when to show the world who he was and when to duck his head down, flip up the collar of his jacket, and make his way down the sidewalk.


    And right now, he was doing that.


    Chad was making his way down the street. Normally they would be bustling, but right now they were empty. A walk that could''ve easily taken close to ten minutes didn''t even take five.


    But it was enough for his mind to begin to settle and for him to stretch his legs and get his blood moving before he sat down again to continue his work on rebuilding Leviathan Inc., and one step of that was ensuring the energy they were creating and providing to continuing customers was exactly as they promised¡ª high-functioning, efficient, effective, and never ever stopping. As soon as someone flipped the switch, their lights would turn on, their machinery would run, their electricity would never falter.


    But he needed an energy boost himself, one that Arkreon could not provide.


    The bell on the door to the Morning Jitters cafe jingled as Chad swung open the door. The tables were mostly empty, and he could count on one hand the number of customers in the building. No one glanced up as he got in line, pulling out his wallet to get a few Corvilles to pay for his coffee, and he ordered without issue.


    "Thank you," the cashier said as they wrote his name on the cup. They didn''t look up at him. "Your drink will be ready shortly at the pickup table. Enjoy your drink, and we hope to see you again soon."


    Chad sat down at an empty table near the pickup area.


    A television hanging from one of the walls of the Morning Jitters was tuned into Waverwell News. Of course they were discussing the Charlie Springs fiasco from earlier¡ª how she had allegedly named the disease as Arkreyitis.


    Without any proof, he thought to himself.


    But of course it didn''t matter. She had said the words, and that was enough. The details didn''t matter, and they were ruining his business.


    The whistleblowers claims were enough for him to stumble. Those claims along with Charlie Springs naming the disease after Arkreon were enough to take out his knees. He wasn''t on his stomach, but he was on the ground. The serpent wasn''t down for the count ¡ªit would take far more than that to take out a Leviathan¡ª but it was enough to make his work that much harder.


    Waverwell News turned to Jaymes Haverfield.


    "As I am sure you have heard," Jaymes started, "there was a witness to Ashley Baok''s murder. Many have been wondering who that witness is, and Larson Hotch and the Moonfall Precinct, along with the task force investigating Ashley Baok''s murder, have been searching for that person. And the witness has turned himself in."


    It was good, Chad figured, that Larson Hotch knew who the witness was.


    His name was called, and he got his coffee.


    "The witness has been identified as Felix Fisk, an employee at the energy giant, Leviathan Inc."


    Chad''s back was to the television, and he stiffened, coffee in hand just a few inches above the table where he had picked it up from.


    Felix Fisk had seen Ashley Baok''s murder?


    His skin prickled and a cold sweat broke out across his flesh. His fingers tightened around his coffee, and he tuned Jaymes''s voice out as he continued on about the witness and what it might mean for the investigation.


    There wasn''t anything else he could listen to. There was only one thought his brain could focus on.


    Felix Fisk had seen Ashley Baok''s murder?


    He couldn''t believe it.


    He had known there was a witness¡ª he had seen the calls made by Larson Hotch for the witness to come speak to them. He knew they were somewhere out there.


    But he never would''ve guessed that the witness was employed by Leviathan Inc. Never would''ve guessed they worked under the same roof he did. Never would''ve guessed they were one of the employees he knew by name.


    Chad supposed it made more sense now, how Felix had been so distant recently. How he had taken off far more sick days than usual. What Freya Fisk''s comment about him drinking too much had really meant.


    He probably would''ve had too much to drink as well if he had seen a murder he wasn''t supposed to see. A witness was never supposed to be there.


    What had it done to Felix? Chad couldn''t even begin to imagine the effects. The nightmares he was probably suffering through.


    He hoped that Felix had found a therapist or someone to help him work through that.


    Chad took a packet of sugar and poured it into his coffee, then stirred it in.


    The walk back from the Morning Jitters took longer than it did to get there. Chad took the long way and meandered through the streets of Corville.


    They felt so empty, so barren without the crowds of people piling through and tourists stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to take pictures or to pull out an oversized map and figure out where they were.


    Things couldn''t get worse, right? Chad thought. They''ve already hit the bottom. Things can only go up from now, can''t they?


    He had reached the Waverwell government building.


    It stretched tall toward the sky, built with intricate designs crawling up the sides and curling around the windows. The building looked official in every sense of the word. Shadowy forms on the roof scanned the streets below, tucked away nearly out of sight to keep the grounds safe. One-way windows kept those outside from seeing in, and Chad knew they were nearly impossible to break. And the architecture was all but flawless¡ª smooth walls of gold and cream and white, trim of the roof carved with swirls. Waverwell''s flag flapped and snapped in the breeze atop the building, green bear rearing up on its hind legs. Corville''s flag of a golden crown on a red background flew just below it.


    Somewhere within the government building''s rooms and halls, Cynthia Corville was working. Perhaps signing some new law into effect, perhaps in some meeting, perhaps talking with other government officials.


    Maybe there was something she could do to help him rebuild Leviathan Inc. and prove the whistleblower wrong.


    Chad had seen the documentation. There was nothing there that showed Arkreon to be any sort of threat. He had ensured it had passed every safety test known to exist. He never would''ve used Arkreon as the energy source of Leviathan Inc. if it had shown any red flags.


    Turning around, he shook his head. Going to the government wouldn''t be a good look. It would seem desperate, childish, and likely confirm to many that Leviathan Inc. was the culprit behind the disease, despite that not being true. The President and other officials would be a last resort and only if laws got broken.


    xxxx


    "Maybe we need to make another donation to the Corville Medical Center?" Chad asked.


    He and his wife were in their joint office.


    Darcy leaned back from where she had been hunched over a stack of documents, editing in red pen. "Why would we do that?"


    "I don''t know." He shrugged. "It might help us rebuild Leviathan Inc. quicker. If we send it directly to one of the top people there... I think Danzig Sterling is the lead researcher. Perhaps them. But regardless, if we do that and get someone to acknowledge our donation, it might help Leviathan Inc. look better."


    "We already donated, honey," Darcy murmured. "We don''t need to donate again. Do you not remember Malibu''s plan? We need to be very careful how we shape our image to the outside world. We can think and say anything we''d like within these four walls." She swung her pen in a circle, gesturing to the room. "But anything outside must be thought through in great detail, because all of it can ¡ªand will¡ª come back around to our company. The attention we give to this disease needs to be carefully monitored. We have given it some, but we must make sure it is not too much. Remember: this disease is not our fault. We cannot do anything that might make it seem like it is."


    Chad nodded. "I know, I know. You''re right. I just want to try to make sure we''re doing everything we can to ensure we rebuild Leviathan Inc. bigger and better than before."


    Darcy hummed in reply. "We will. Don''t you worry."


    Chad looked out the window. The sun was beginning to set, just starting to brush against the tallest of the buildings in Corville''s skyline and set fire to the horizon in a blaze of reds and oranges.


    Taking one last drink from his coffee, he finished it off and threw it in the trash can beside his desk. He could feel the buzz of the caffeine coursing through his veins, and it had helped; he had gotten more done in the last few hours than he had previously.


    There would be no quick fix for the damage done to Leviathan Inc., no matter how much Chad hoped and prayed, but he had played the long game once when he had first built the foundation for Leviathan Inc. He could play the long game again with repairs.


    The serpent would find the whistleblower and come back stronger than ever before.


    Darcy finished her work first, and while Chad finished up the last of his, she went down to the lobby to call the chauffeur and have the car prepared for their ride home.


    "I''ll be down in a few minutes, honey," he said as she packed up her purse and shut off her computer for the night.


    "Don''t keep me waiting too long." Darcy crossed the room, fingers running up his arm. He wrapped his fingers around hers, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.


    "I could never. Not with someone as stunning as you are." Chad tilted his head up when Darcy bent down for a quick kiss.


    She offered him a smile that stole the air from his lungs, and he extended his arm to keep their fingers laced together for as long as possible until Darcy stepped out of reach.


    Once the door to their joint office closed and his wife was out of sight, Chad turned his attention back to his computer, but he couldn''t help the glance he gave at the doorway in hopes that he might get another glimpse of the goddess he was married to.


    He went to move his mouse to open his email. Darcy was expecting him down in the lobby soon and he wanted nothing more than to go home and enjoy a relaxing dinner in his wife''s company, but CEO meant one last check to ensure that everything had gotten done.


    But his cursor didn''t move.


    He jerked his mouse to the side, and the cursor stayed in the exact same spot.


    He tried again with the same results. And then again. And his cursor never moved.


    Until it did.


    Moving on its own, the cursor trailed lazily across the page, meandering over to the search bar of his computer and opening a document. The cursor scrolled through the fonts, pausing on one and then moving onto another several times before selecting one near the bottom that looked like the words had been sliced into the page with a knife.


    Completely frozen, Chad could only stare at his computer screen, hand hovering over his mouse and muscles locked up tight.


    Then, letter by letter, two words were slowly typed onto the page, eternal seconds stretching between each flash of the cursor.


    Chad''s whole body tensed up, and he held his breath.


    THEY''RE DIGGING.

 me84 - Chapter 15 - Kristin Baok - Split Stitches

    Chapter 15


    KRISTIN BAOK


    Kristin Baok had somehow managed to sleep last night and feel that maybe he had actually gotten some rest.


    He longed for a good night''s sleep, but he had no idea if that would ever come. He had made his peace with the fact that maybe it never would. Maybe he would never be able to sleep soundly through the night.


    But last night, he felt as though his body had gotten the chance to recharge for once, but he was still drained. His eyelids still wanted to close, even though he knew Dreamland would never arrive to claim him once more.


    Sunlight shone through the cracks in the blinds, and Kristin stretched, rubbing at a knot in his shoulder.


    He pulled his blankets up to his chin, hugging them around himself in something echoing an embrace. Warmth like Ashley gave, but lacking in that aspect that just couldn''t be pinned down. That little something that made the difference of human. That thing that was the difference between a hug from blankets and a hug from Ashley¡ª there was something that just couldn''t be replicated.


    And it made Kristin''s heart break all the more.


    He shoved his sheets off like they were live rattlesnakes, and he bit his lip until his eyes stopped burning with unshed tears, until he could breathe without a quiver in his throat.


    Maybe someday, Kristin told himself. Maybe someday I''ll be able to hug someone and not think only of Ashley.


    Robotically, he changed his clothes, grabbing whatever was closest and tugging it on without care.


    Exhaustion hung around him, pulling at his skin and eyelids and making it feel like he was stumbling through a fog. He needed sleep, but how was he supposed to sleep when his brother would never wake? How was he supposed to sleep when his dreams were haunted by images of his brother''s body and thoughts of what he might have gone through in those last moments?


    We''ll find out, Kristin reminded himself. We will find out what happened to you, Ashley. We will get answers.


    xxxx


    "Hey, Charlie," Kristin said as he walked out of his room and into the kitchen.


    She was seated at the table, if that''s what it would be called. Her head lay pillowed on a folded arm, fingers knotted in her hair. And she stared at a spoon she twirled in a bowl of long-since soggy cereal, gaze blank and distant.


    The only acknowledgement he got from her was a low grunt.


    "How are you doing?" he tentatively asked, gently walking around the subject of the Waverwell News interview.


    "Fine." The word was barely audible and rough enough that Kristin guessed Charlie hadn''t slept.


    "You need anything?"


    "No." Charlie scooped up some of her cereal, then watched it fall back into the bowl with wet plops when she tipped her spoon upside down.


    Kristin paused, wanting to say more but not knowing what.


    He made himself his own bowl of cereal. It was the only thing he felt he might be able to choke down. Food still made his stomach twist and churn, and nothing had tasted edible since he had learned of his brother''s murder.


    But his body needed nourishment, and so he would force himself to find something. Anything was nutrients; he just needed to get it down.


    Kristin sat across from Charlie. They were both quiet for several minutes. The only sounds were those from Ren running drills with the dogs and Zip screwing something together in his workshop¡ª Kristin could hear power tools clanging from across the courtyard.


    "I don''t feel like me," Charlie eventually grumbled, voice muffled by her arm. Her knuckles were white as she gripped her spoon and stirred it, huffing in frustration when cereal and milk splattered up over the edge and onto the table. She threw her spoon down and groaned, curling her lip. "I feel like that little kid me who just wanted her parents'' approval. I don''t feel like someone old enough to be able to disappear and not have the search parties brought out. ''Course my parents did search. Kind of. They sent those letters. But I don''t feel like an adult, even though I am and can disappear without people searching. Sure, I am an adult physically, but mentally? I''m just that little kid who''s wondering how the hell my body got so big. Feels like I''m still trapped as that kid who didn''t know why her parents would never tell her that she did a good job."


    Charlie laughed in a self-deprecating way. "Beverley and Richmond sure messed me up good, didn''t they?"


    She rolled her eyes before continuing: "I want an apology. Ain''t gonna hold my breath though. Even little kid me knows no way that''s happenin''."


    Kristin chewed on his lip. He wanted to reply, but he didn''t want to say the wrong thing and make it worse for her. He knew she hated her parents, but Kristin had never had any. Sure, he knew there were two people responsible for his creation in one form or another¡ª something could never come from nothing. But he had no recollection of anyone who ever filled that role of parent.


    He couldn''t relate. Not in the slightest.


    Ashley was the closest thing he had to a parent, and he knew he was the closest thing Ashley had as a parent as well.


    His heart twisted, and he swallowed against the rising tidal wave of pain and grief. Tears prickled in his eyes, and he forced them back. Not now.


    Charlie offered a sad smile that didn''t reach her eyes. "Sorry, I''m just ramblin'', aren''t I? S''pose all I can really do now is find some way to live for both of us. And entertain that kid with the joy she never got cuz so much of her childhood was spent walkin'' around on eggshells and wondering if the next words out of her mouth would be the ones that led to the next fight. You know me¡ª I got no filter. If I think it, it''s probably getting said. Impulse control is hardly something I''ve got. Just angry right now, I guess. Why''d they come there? I ran away and made no attempt to contact them. If that''s not don''t talk to me, I don''t want to see you then what is?"


    "I don''t know," Kristin whispered.


    And it was the truth¡ª he wasn''t sure what could tell Charlie''s parents that she didn''t want to speak to them if running away and never contacting them didn''t get the message across. From the tiny bit he knew about their relationship and Charlie''s reaction to seeing them in the parking lot of Waverwell News, he knew she had some good reasons for not wanting any sort of interaction with them.


    Kristin had hardly had a chance to see who Charlie was looking at in the parking lot before she had rushed off, telling those who wanted to ask questions that the SFPU was leaving and leaving no room for debate when she had stalked away, sending a chilling glare at the people he had later realized were her parents.


    "What are we gonna do without Ashley? Things were fine before," Charlie mumbled into her arm. "Maybe they weren''t really fine. Something made someone do-. Do... do that. Kill Ashley. But things felt fine. We were just one big, happy family."


    Kristin shook his head, stirring his cereal. He made himself take a bite, and it still tasted like cardboard. "I don''t know."


    It was the only answer he could give. He didn''t know what they''d do.


    "I guess just keep looking. Keep trying to find answers, because there''s someone out there who knows something. We just need to find them. We just need to find that person who has the key to throwing the whole case wide open."


    "I miss Ashley." Charlie''s face was scrunched up in the crook of her arm. She watched milk drip off of her spoon and into the bowl.


    Kristin watched it too. Each droplet of white falling, another second that had ticked by that he didn''t have his brother. Another second that he didn''t know why his brother was taken from him. Another second that was spent without his brother by his side when they had never been apart. Another second in the longest period of time he hadn''t been beside Ashley.


    "I miss him too." Kristin held onto his spoon in a crushing grip like it was the only thing keeping him from getting caught up in the tidal wave of grief and sadness. And maybe it was. He had managed to get his legs beneath him, but he felt like a deer on ice, just a half second from collapsing yet again.


    "I want him back," he continued, and the words just poured from his mouth like a bag of marbles turned upside down. "I don''t know why it was him and not me. I don''t know what was so different about him that it had to be him who was taken and not me. We told each other everything, but I know he didn''t tell me stuff so clearly there was something. I know he kept things from me. I mean, I never knew about his journal. I just feel like I''m missing one little piece and maybe then I''ll have answers. But I also know that nothing can ever make it right. Knowing why will never make it better. I''ll never get to hug him again, never get to hear his laugh again. Am I just going to be stuck with this gaping hole in my chest for the rest of my life? How am I supposed to deal with that? Is all I''m ever going to have of Ashley just memories to replay in my head over and over? Pictures I''m supposed to look at until they begin to fade? That furry little mouse he got for me on one of those first supply runs cuz he was just so excited to get gifts for everyone. Am I just supposed to hold that for the rest of my life like some wannabe replacement for my brother?"


    And then the tears came, streaming down his cheeks in hot, salty trails.


    "I''m sorry," Charlie whispered.


    "What happened to him?"


    The ache in Kristin''s chest was a yawning void, all jagged edges and sharp angles, ripped apart like split stitches and shattered into pieces too small to fit back together in the original way. How he could ever rebuild, Kristin didn''t know, but he knew there had to be some way.


    It couldn''t hurt like this forever.


    Right?


    The pain was so strong, a riptide he got pulled out to sea by.


    "We will find out what happened to Ashley, Kristin, I promise. I don''t know how and it might take a while, but we will. I ain''t gonna give up, not ever." Charlie pushed her bowl of cereal away from her and stood up, and Kristin watched as she walked around the table until she stood beside him. There was a moment of hesitation, wheels turning in her eyes, and then she opened her arms, a clear invitation for a hug.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Kristin paused, thinking for a handful of seconds, before falling into Charlie''s embrace, leaning over in his chair. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his clung around her waist. Ear against her stomach, Kristin could hear her shaky breaths and her attempts to calm down. He could feel how his own sides shook with each inhale and how every exhale caught in his throat.


    Please, Ashley. I want you back. I need you, Ashley. Please. Why were you taken from me?


    xxxx


    Zip lurked in the doorway of Kristin''s room.


    He didn''t make any attempts to move, and instead shifted in place, starting to take a step forward but then retreating back the same distance. After watching him repeat the action several times out of the corner of his eye, Kristin hummed and leaned back in his chair.


    "What is it, Zip?" Kristin kept his voice neutral.


    Zip breathed an obvious sigh of relief. "I... was looking," he said.


    "What were you looking at?" Kristin spun a quarter circle to fully face Zip.


    "That-that book. One of S-Spider Ridge s-s-stuff." Zip paused, drumming his fingers on the doorframe and rocking on his feet. "Li-like, Arkreon''s from th-there... and... the records... they aren''t-. They aren''t complete."


    "Aren''t complete?"


    "Yeah, not com... complete. Like, en-entirely. Most of the stuff was-. It was there, but the... the documentation. Like of what was-was brought out wasn''t... wasn''t done right. Dates wr-wrong, measurements not right."


    "What do you mean by that?"


    Zip tilted his head to the side. He rubbed his fingertip across a dent on the wall as he processed the question.


    "The-the weights of... stuff. Like, the mines keep r-records of everything. And-and they say weights of rock br-. The rock brought out and how much was what they were... they were mining for. The weights weren''t right."


    "Was it Arkreon?"


    "Yeah." Zip nodded his head. "But not-. Wasn''t just that. Coal, too. Minerals. V-v-very little was r-right for everything."


    Kristin leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out. The carpet was soft beneath his feet. Nothing about that made sense¡ª record keeping was busy work. Very little thought was required, since it was just putting numbers that could not lie into a spreadsheet.


    "And you''re sure the weights and records truly cannot be right? I''m not questioning you, I just want to be certain."


    Zip scratched at a piece of peeling paint on the doorframe. "Yeah," he murmured, examining a flake of paint he held between his fingers. "The records aren''t... aren''t right. And it... it had s-s-stuff on-on the... the disease. Like the... the... the s-symptoms. R-rash, trouble b-breathing, coughing, s-seizures, stuff like-like that."


    "What the hell?" It was the only thing Kristin could say. Nothing made sense. And while he didn''t doubt Zip, he had no idea what to make of the incomplete records.


    "I don''t know," Zip replied. His voice was soft, tired. "Wish I... wish I did. Doesn''t make any-any sense."


    "Could you..." Kristin trailed off, unsure of what he was really trying to ask. "Could you keep digging?"


    "Yeah." Zip nodded. "Wasn''t... gonna stop."


    "Thank you."


    Zip silently slipped away, and Kristin turned back to his desk.


    He exhaled shakily and rubbed his hands over his face. His brain felt like it was going to explode from the exhaustion, the pain, the grief, the hurricane of information that was simultaneously too much and too little.


    It was more than he ever wanted to know, but it wasn''t enough to get answers.


    Why does that feel like it''s too much to ask? Kristin thought, begging whoever might be listening for some response.


    I just want to know what happened to my brother.


    I just want to know why he was taken from me.


    A tear rolled down his cheek. Please, Ashley. I want you back.


    xxxx


    Kristin held Ashley''s journal in his hands, elbows on the kitchen table.


    Larson Hotch still didn''t know about the existence of the journal. Neither did Asa or Azrael Smith.


    But he knew they probably should. It was something Ashley himself had written. It told the story of an important part of his life from his own perspective. It was as close to talking to Ashley as anyone would ever be able to get.


    Kristin figured was probably something within it that would give context for things, perhaps offer clues.


    But I can''t let him go, Kristin thought.


    He didn''t want to give up such an intimate part of his brother. It was the closest thing he had left of Ashley, the closest he could get to his brother without having his brother here with him again. He couldn''t give it up.


    And who knew if he would ever get it back? Who knew how long Ashley''s journal might lay tucked away, locked up in some evidence room in the back of the Moonfall Precinct. Who knew who might touch it, what might be taken, if it would stay in one piece.


    Kristin ran his fingers over the cover, felt the raised edges and the grooves in it.


    He wanted to give Ashley''s journal to the Moonfall Precinct in hopes that it might offer some breakthrough, but the thought of parting with one of the last pieces left of his brother made his heart twist in his chest. Every entry was written by hand, typos, scribbled out words, and all. And sometimes it spoke directly to Kristin, some small comfort that his brother could talk to him, even from the grave.


    "Does the Moonfall Precinct need this?" Kristin asked as he sat at the kitchen table.


    Charlie looked up at him from the couch, mouth full with a bite from her lettuce wrap. She cradled it in her hands, the only thing keeping it from falling apart, and hummed in reply, holding the wrap up in a gesture of just a moment.


    After she swallowed, she frowned. "I completely forgot what we were talking about. Sorry." She offered a sheepish smile, but then her expression softened when she saw his own expression. Something somewhere between pained and unsure and a little guilty.


    Shouldn''t he have given the journal to the Moonfall Precinct the second he realized what it was? He probably shouldn''t have touched it so much, wrapped his arms around it in a hug when the pain of losing Ashley got to be too much. Held it to his chest as he fell asleep because it was the only thing that would let him relax enough to doze off, even for just a little while.


    Kristin held up Ashley''s journal. "Does the Moonfall Precinct need this?"


    "I mean, completely truthful, blunt, honest answer... yeah, yeah, they do."


    He knew she was right, but hearing it out loud didn''t make it any better or easier to hear.


    "Hey, hey, hey." Charlie waved her hand at Kristin and snapped her fingers several times in close succession, jerking his attention to her before he could get lost in his head. "Don''t go off feeling all guilty now, ''kay?"


    "I should''ve given this to them as soon as I knew it was his journal."


    She slid off her seat and crossed into the living area to sit beside him on the couch. Her gaze was all seriousness, none of the humor it usually held. "Yeah, but we had no idea what was in it when they came that day. This whole mess is no one''s fault but the Trinity''s. They could''ve easily decided to be decent human beings, but they didn''t. This is only their fault. They''re the monsters. You''re someone in a situation that''s terrible beyond words. None of this is your fault, you hear me? It''s not your fault."


    "Maybe this will help get answers."


    "It could, I don''t know. But don''t go feelin'' all guilty over something that doesn''t need guilt. We''ve already got enough emotions going on. Don''t need any more. But do you want to give it to them? I can go with you if you''d like company. Ain''t got nothin'' for the rest of the day. Was planning on hunting around on Muse for any new stuff that might say why the Trinity went after Ashley, but I''m here if you need me."


    "Yes." Kristin sighed. "No."


    Charlie narrowed her eyes but didn''t push.


    "I don''t know."


    She hummed in a noncommittal sort of way¡ª neither agreeing nor disagreeing.


    "I want to give it to them, but I don''t want to lose this piece of him. He wrote it all, and some of it was written to me. I can''t give it up. But I know they need it, even though they don''t know it exists. They''ll be thrilled to have something like this that was written by Ashley and goes into his thoughts and events that happened. It''s basically a timeline of the last year of his life. And some of the stuff sure does seem suspicious. That snakes and sirens part? The part about and then it will all be nyte? He''s clearly talking about something. But how do I let him go? How do I give this piece of him to Larson? How do I give it up when I know I might never get it back?"


    Charlie chewed on her lip, and Kristin knew she was trying to figure out the right words to say. He hated that, hated that she was trying to find some way to be truthful but likely tell him, on some level, what he wanted to hear. Find some way to make him more comfortable with the idea of giving Ashley''s journal to the Moonfall Precinct.


    And she was quiet for several long moments.


    "I don''t know," she finally said. "I really don''t know. I wouldn''t want to give up the journal if I was in your situation. I don''t really even want to now. That''s Ashley''s journal, the original Pockets of Gold and Silver. The one he wrote by hand, not the one he published under Caspian Lyon''s name. But all I can really say, I guess, is that Larson''s gonna take good care of it. Don''t need to know him well to feel good about saying that. No way he''s gonna be throwing evidence like that around. I mean, something written by ¡ªand I hate calling him this so much¡ª the murder victim? No way that''s getting tossed into some corner. He''ll take good care of it. S''pose we could ask them about gettin'' it back for sure. Like, they''re not gonna hang on to it forever... hopefully... but I got no idea about that. Who really knows how all of the law enforcement stuff works."


    Tears prickled in Kristin''s eyes. He sucked on his teeth as he stared down at Ashley''s journal. "I should probably give this to them," he ground out. "I don''t want to lose Ashley, but they need it. Can we take pictures of it all?"


    "Sure, I can go get Zip right now. Bet he could make a 3-D model of it if you asked him to. Especially if it came from you."


    Kristin flinched, and Charlie sighed, hunching over with her head in her hands. She groaned into her palms with a frustrated huff.


    "Sorry," she grumbled, "my bad. Not the time for teasing. My head''s all messed up and I know that''s no excuse."


    "It''s fine." Kristin leaned forward, forearms on his knees and Ashley''s journal in his hands. "They need it. The Moonfall Precinct needs this. It will help them, cuz the Trinity needs to be caught. They''re monsters who do not deserve to be walking free any longer. They lost that right the second they committed their first murder."


    He knew it was all true, and he believed it. Larson Hotch, Asa Smith, Azrael Smith, and everyone else working on Ashley''s case all would benefit from having the journal. And he knew those working on Alaska Wendell March''s case would benefit from the journal, too.


    But some part of him bucked and resisted against the idea of losing the journal. Tugged back like a horse rearing against its lead.


    Not losing, he whispered to that part. We''re giving it to the right people. It''s the right decision. It''s what needs to be done so Ashley''s killers can be caught. Alaska''s too, and who knows what other people who, right now, might just be listed as missing.


    "Ok," he said, voice hoarse. "Let''s do it."


    Charlie lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah?"


    "Where are the keys?" Kristin pushed himself off the couch, robotically walking toward the front door.


    "Oh, like right now?" Charlie followed after him.


    "Yeah, if we don''t go right now we''re not going. One shot to get Ashley''s journal to the Moonfall Precinct. I don''t think I''ll be able to part from it if we don''t do this now."


    "Ok. Lemme just get my shoes. Can''t drive barefoot. That just sounds like a bad idea." Charlie slipped away through the living area and vanished into her room.


    xxxx


    Kristin''s legs were lead weights as he stood in the doorway of the NYTE house, the same one Ashley had once walked through, never to come back.


    He took a deep breath to calm the rising panic in his chest. His knuckles were white around his brother''s journal, and Kristin wasn''t sure how he was going to make it to the car Charlie had parked, passenger door open right at the edge of the courtyard, as close as possible to the house.


    If he couldn''t make it to the car, Kristin asked himself, how was he supposed to make it to the Moonfall Precinct?


    Charlie gave a small smile from where she stood leaning against the hood of the car, arms crossed her chest.


    "I don''t really know what to say, Kristin." She shrugged. "Like, on the one hand, yeah, they''ll probably be thrilled to have Ashley''s journal so they can look over every grain of dust on the pages and pour over every word within it. But like, you look like you''re about to pass out. You good?"


    Kristin didn''t know. All he could do was shrug and bring his brother''s journal in for a hug, soaking in the comfort it brought.


    "No one''s forcin'' you to do anything if you don''t wanna." Charlie''s face was scrunched up in unease, and Kristin knew she wanted him to bring Ashley''s journal to the Moonfall Precinct but wasn''t going to make him.


    He couldn''t help but wonder how long they had felt that way. If they had felt like that since the beginning. How the investigation into Ashley''s murder might have gone if they had told the Moonfall Precinct about the journal during that first search of the camp.


    Kristin knew it wasn''t his fault. He hadn''t been the one to take his brother''s life so cruelly and callously.


    But guilt still gnawed at his insides.


    What if there was some way he could''ve known? What if there was some small tell Ashley had that something hadn''t been right? What if Kristin had missed some silent plea for help? What if he had turned his back in his brother''s most desperate time of need?


    The what ifs were a sneaker wave that threatened to suck him into the silent, shadowy depths of despair. Pull him into the clutches of some smothering beast that would never let him go. Drag him beyond reality until he couldn''t escape.


    But Kristin had to stay here. Stay in the real world. Ashley needed him.


    Kristin couldn''t save his brother. He wasn''t able to keep Ashley in the land of the living. And there wasn''t much he could do for him.


    But he could still do this.


    He could bring Ashley''s journal to the Moonfall Precinct in hopes that perhaps information could be gleaned and clues could be found.


    It was the least he could do for his brother.


    It was one of the only things Kristin could still do for Ashley¡ª he could help solve his brother''s murder.


    And so, with Ashley''s journal held snug in his embrace, Kristin slid into the passenger seat and gave Charlie the ok to start driving to the Moonfall Precinct. She shifted the car into gear and piloted her way out of the courtyard and into Silverlight Forest.

 me84 - Chapter 16 - Cynthia Corville - A President Did Not Hope

    Chapter 16


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Cynthia Corville wanted to scream.


    But a President couldn''t do that.


    A President could have emotions at particular times that matched the tone of their speech, but the emotions had to be pre-planned.


    A President could be somber when a tragedy had occurred.


    A President could be grateful when they had just won an election.


    But a President could not scream.


    They had to remain calm and level-headed at all times.


    And screaming would immediately draw the Waverwell Government Building Precinct to her¡ª a President screaming was surely a threat.


    But there was no threat now. Cynthia was perfectly safe in the President''s Room at her too-big mahogany desk in a room too big for practicality, not that practical was ever considered when designing any aspect of the Waverwell government building.


    The deaths from the disease had been spiking, and more and more who had fallen ill with it had passed away.


    Leviathan Inc. had been looking into Charlie Springs''s slip-up in the Waverwell News interview when she named the disease Arkreyitis without any proof Arkreon had ever had any tie to the disease.


    People had been calling for an investigation into how Charlie Springs had even come to that conclusion and why she would throw such a company under the bus like that.


    Others had been wondering if perhaps she was the whistleblower.


    It felt like her country was falling apart, and she had to hold it together.


    Cynthia had to keep Waverwell afloat.


    xxxx


    Cynthia took a slow inhale, and then exhaled even slower. Now was not the time for a spiral of anxiety. A President did not lose their cool. A President would shoulder any struggle with grace and dignity.


    All of Waverwell was counting on her, and she could not crack.


    One thing at a time, she told herself.


    Prioritize.


    It was a skill she had learned before getting elected as President, but it was now one she knew as well as the back of her hand.


    Cynthia flipped through an update Seven Valentine had brought her a short while ago.


    It outlined the changes in the disease. But the most chilling part was how the deaths caused by it had been steadily creeping upward with no signs of slowing.


    And with no current cure, doctors could do little for their patients beyond make them comfortable and try everything they could.


    Please, Cynthia hoped with everything she could, don''t let this cost any more lives. Please let there be some easy fix.


    But a President didn''t hope.


    A President took action. A President drew up a detailed outline. A President used their power to enforce strict guidelines. A President wouldn''t leave their country to something like hope. A President wouldn''t put something as important as the well-being of their country in the hands of something so out of their control.


    Hope was never meant for a President.


    A President would always remain in control.


    Cynthia had to remain in control, even as she watched the infection tallies rise. Even as she saw the deaths climb steadily upward.


    She knew the lockdown had helped, even though many were protesting against it.


    Why stay inside when there was no evidence it had actually done anything? People had still gotten infected with the disease. People still had the rash in blotchy, red patches that slowly turned yellow as the disease took its toll.


    But Cynthia knew that people would get infected even with the lockdown. It was just that the numbers would be far lower.


    She had to stay in control. Remain calm, cool, and collected. Her country needed her.


    And right now they needed a cure for the disease.


    Cynthia had sent Danzig Sterling, the lead researcher at the Corville Medical Center, an email. She received updates every day, often several times throughout the day. But she wanted to hear from them, to ask specifically how things were going, if anything was needed, what their thoughts were. She wanted to speak with them directly, not with multiple people in the chain of custody.


    I hope your research into the disease is going well, she had written. I am here to offer whatever I can to assist you. All you need to do is ask.


    Cynthia loved politics, loved her job. She was beyond grateful at the opportunity she had to be President. As a child, she had dreamed of this moment, and she wouldn''t trade it for anything.


    But it felt like she couldn''t do enough.


    She wanted to help solve Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March''s murders, but all she could do was help put together the task force.


    She wanted to help cure the disease and stop more people from getting sick and dying, but all she could do was give resources to the doctors and researchers.


    She could implement as many rules and regulations as she could, but she couldn''t get out there on the ground and work. All she could do was sit in her chair in the President''s Room at the Waverwell government building and read through reports, send emails, talk with people, and hope that what she was doing was enough.


    But a President didn''t hope.


    Game plan, Cynthia, she reminded herself. She needed a plan to execute, one that would solve the issues she was facing and tackle each one. It didn''t have to be pretty. It didn''t have to be the best plan ever designed. It just needed to work. All it needed to do was get Waverwell through this disease outbreak and get Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March justice.


    "You can do this, Cynthia. Keep breathing. Nothing has broken you, and you have survived every hurdle. And you have Charlotte Waver, the strongest woman you know, at your side. You can do this." She laced her fingers together, then stretched her arms out in front of her until her knuckles cracked.


    "Let''s do this."


    xxxx


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    The first step of Cynthia''s plan came far more easily than the rest did, if only because Larson Hotch was the one who reached out first.


    He wanted to meet, and Cynthia had a free block in her afternoon after Gabriella told her of a scheduling conflict. A meeting that was supposed to happen that day for a massive lawsuit over a proposed apartment complex in Dal got moved to the following week.


    And so, a few hours later, Larson Hotch sat across from Cynthia. The windows in the President''s Room were open, and his chair had been placed further back, roughly halfway between Cynthia''s desk and the doorway.


    He ran his fingers over his mustache as he pondered her words¡ª what updates can you tell me about? It was an action Cynthia was familiar with¡ª it was commonly used in Waverwell government. One would use it when piecing together a response that answered the question but gave away only what one wanted to reveal and carefully sealed away everything that one wanted to keep hidden.


    Cynthia felt both frustrated and understanding of that. Larson needed to keep his case against the Trinity safe, but she wanted answers. She wanted to know what had happened to Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March.


    If she had laid awake during those sleepless nights, what about Kristin Baok? What about Kansas Sampson March? If the murders of Ashley and Alaska were eating her up, what were they doing to those who were their closest friends and family?


    Cynthia couldn''t imagine it.


    "Kristin Baok brought in a journal written by Ashley Baok yesterday," Larson said, expression hidden behind a veil of neutrality.


    Cynthia''s eyebrows rose. It was the first she had heard of a journal. Something written by Ashley Baok.


    That changed things. The answers it potentially held... well, that could be the needed key to break his case wide open and reveal the identities of those responsible. It could potentially answer the why in why his life was so callously taken away.


    "We are looking into it as we speak." Larson answered her question before she could ask it.


    "Have you found anything yet?"


    "Not yet," Larson replied. "We are going through every entry and following any possible evidence we can get from the journal¡ª clues in what Ashley wrote, anything that may offer potential locations he has been or people he may have talked with, etcetera. We are also looking into the Pockets of Gold and Silver book he published under the name of Caspian Lyon. It''s still a lot of following up on every lead we get and pulling on every thread we can find as far as it will go. Asa and Azrael are currently at the lab with Ashley''s journal to see if there''s anything on it that doesn''t belong¡ª fingerprints, DNA, anything that may provide evidence the journal has been somewhere it shouldn''t have."


    "Kristin had the journal since Ashley''s death, right?"


    Larson sighed and nodded. "Yes, Kristin did have Ashley''s journal. We''re not hopeful that we will be able to get any useful DNA or fingerprints ¡ªas in DNA or fingerprints that do not belong to the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit¡ª considering Kristin mentioned he held it with him to get some sleep, but it''s a possibility so of course we are going to try."


    "I hope you can get something."


    "I do too."


    "The Trinity needs to be caught," Cynthia murmured, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin atop them, elbows on the table. She then added, "I don''t mean that in a you''re not doing enough kind of way. I just want the Trinity off the streets before anyone else gets hurt. And also so they can be held accountable for their actions."


    "I know what you mean. We''re working around the clock, and we will get them. But I often wish investigations could move faster. Sometimes we get those cases where someone all but walks into the Precinct with a full confession and holds out their hands for the handcuffs, but sometimes we get people who just do not want to be caught and it''s that much harder. The Trinity unfortunately falls into the latter category."


    "Ashley''s journal will help you, right?"


    "Nothing is for certain in detective work. Only once you have irrefutable evidence can you really begin to piece together what happened. Before that it''s much more speculation."


    "Do you know yet?"


    "What happened to Ashley?" It was a tactic Cynthia herself had used in the past¡ª getting a few extra seconds by asking a question she already knew the answer to.


    "Yes."


    "We know some things, but not the whole picture. Think of it like a puzzle. Some parts are filled in, and some parts are still blank. But we will get the entirety of the puzzle, it just takes time, unfortunately."


    "What about Alaska Wendell March? What about her case?"


    "Alaska''s case is an interesting one. The cases that do not follow the logic you think they would are always fascinating, but I would be thrilled if I never had another one of those. They are interesting ones to study, but it''s real people you are looking at. Real families whose lives got destroyed, who got handed a life sentence they never deserved. Sure, it''s always justice served when the killer gets a life sentence in prison, but there is no bringing back the person whose life got stolen. There is only so much justice that can be brought." Larson gave a sad smile as he stared off to the side, gaze distant.


    And then he continued: "The last known person to see Alaska was her off-again-on-again boyfriend, Jason Starr. But he has a solid alibi for the time she was killed: He was working the whole afternoon and well into the night at the flower shop where they both were employed, F L O R A."


    "It sounds like you think it might have been him," Cynthia found herself murmuring.


    "He''s the first person I looked at," Larson replied, "but a person cannot be two places at once. We''re still keeping an eye on him in case he shares something with someone that he has not said to us yet."


    There was something shifting in Cynthia''s stomach. Some feeling she had felt again and again in the past, but some feeling she couldn''t quite pin down.


    What was going on?


    "Are you any closer to finding the Trinity?"


    Cynthia wasn''t sure she wanted to know the answer. She hoped Larson would say yes. Yes, they were closing in on the Trinity, they were preparing for the arrest, they had prepared three cells and were ready to throw away the key after a fair trial. Yes, the Trinity would soon no longer be a threat.


    But she also knew if that were the case that she would''ve already had mountains of documents on her desk telling her everything. Reporters who caught the early break of the story would be talking non-stop. Everyone would know.


    And no one had said anything.


    She tried not to let it hit her too hard when the corner of Larson''s mouth twisted into a sad smile and he shook his head ever so slightly. "I''m sorry," he said. "We''re searching and we will not stop, but we are not quite there yet. They know we''re hunting them down, and we will arrest them as soon as we can. But rest assured that when we arrest the Trinity, we know we have enough to convict them and lock them away for the rest of their lives."


    "Do you know their identities?"


    Larson shook his head again, and Cynthia tried not to take it to heart. Working as a Precinct officer was tough, and the Trinity were skilled at hiding themselves.


    But not as good as the task force investigating them, Cynthia reminded herself. The Trinity would be caught.


    "We don''t know who they are yet, but we will find out. They won''t get away with anything they''ve done."


    Cynthia nodded her head in agreement. "They won''t get away with anything."


    She knew murderers existed. There had been a handful in Waverwell''s history. Evil people who committed unthinkable crimes.


    But she was far more familiar with the murderers from television¡ª the quiet loner, the attractive smooth-talker, the short-tempered son. The ones she could guess at from having figured out the patterns of the shows. The ones she knew would be caught quickly, always by the end of the episode or by the end of the season. The ones she never needed to worry about because they were actors on a set.


    No one was hurt, none of it was real, everyone would wipe off the makeup and take off the costumes and go home at the end of the day.


    Not once would Cynthia have guessed that she would have to deal with a group of murderers in real life, not in one of those quiet evenings with Charlotte where the two of them were sitting on the edge of the couch, trying to figure out who the culprit was before the tv detectives did.


    "Whatever you need," Cynthia reminded Larson, "just let me know. It is yours. The Trinity will be caught."


    "I know," he replied, glancing down at his phone when it buzzed. "Thank you. I will be in touch. Azrael just messaged me, and it''s urgent."


    Cynthia stood up and gestured to the door. "I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me and give me an update in-person. Don''t let me keep you¡ª whatever Azrael said, I''m sure it''s important."


    "Of course. I wasn''t quite sure what the protocol is with the President."


    Cynthia shrugged. "So long as you''re respectful and you''ve got a good reason, I won''t be offended. Everyone has work, and sometimes, in cases like this, it''s very, very important."


    Larson nodded, pushing his chair back up against the wall of the President''s Room where it was before the meeting.


    "I''d normally shake your hand here," he said, "but I don''t think we''re supposed to."


    "No, we''re not supposed to."


    "Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day."


    "You too," Cynthia replied.


    "Oh," Larson said, turning around as he stood in the doorway of the President''s Room. "And I don''t think I have to tell you to keep Ashley''s journal to yourself? I don''t want that news getting out before we''re ready."


    Cynthia shook her head. "I won''t tell a soul."


    Larson held her gaze for several long moments, and there was an edge to it. A hardness, a determination. Something that told Cynthia that he knew more than he had said.


    Maybe it was just that feeling of desperation gnawing at her insides, maybe it was just her imagination seeing what she wanted to see. Maybe it was just some little fluttering bird of hope praying that this would all be over soon, even though a President didn''t pray and it would never be over for Ashley Baok or Alaska Wendell March because they would never wake up and their friends and family would never get to escape the nightmare as easily as setting down the newspaper or turning off the tv. It was a life sentence for them.


    Or maybe it was just Cynthia''s subconscious wanting to placate her and make her feel ok.


    But maybe it wasn''t. She didn''t know, and she wasn''t sure she wanted to.


    Ignorance was bliss, but a President never got to have that luxury.

 me84 - Chapter 17 - Ferris Dipper - No Real Justice

    Chapter 17


    FERRIS DIPPER


    Ferris Dipper didn''t know what to do.


    It felt like his world was falling apart.


    He had created the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit in hopes of trying to help the wildlife in Silverlight Forest.


    And despite having saved countless animals, it ended with Ashley''s murder.


    The SFPU still existed, but it was the skeletal remains of what it once was.


    NYTE stood in its place, a group that he didn''t feel should have existed.


    They would find Ashley''s killers and hold them accountable. Ferris knew they would. But they shouldn''t have had to.


    Ashley should still be alive.


    The SFPU should have always existed until they collectively decided their work was done and it was time to pass the baton to the next group who would continue their legacy.


    They shouldn''t have had to rewire the Camera Trap alerts so volunteering officers from the Moonfall Precinct could go track down poachers after having the alerts sent to them. It should be them, the SFPU, hunting down the offenders and bringing them to the Moonfall Precinct.


    The decision to stop should have been theirs. The possibility to continue hunting down poachers existed, but Ferris couldn''t see it happening again any time soon. Maybe not ever.


    Ferris''s fathers had always told him that a little stress was ok. That emotions were never bad because it was a way for your body to communicate. That whenever you felt something you weren''t sure of to take a moment and sit with it, try to figure out why you might be feeling that way.


    But he didn''t know what was going on now. Nothing made sense.


    Please, he thought. I need you. I need you, dads. Come back, Toby and Tony. I need your lighthearted jokes, Toby. I need your support, Tony. I need another hug, another meal, another time of just sitting on the damn couch as we watched a movie on that little tv when you were beyond exhausted after a day in the mines but still wanted to find something to do with me and I was just curled up between the two strongest people I knew who never let it go unknown how much you both loved me. I just want one more movie night with the two of you. One more movie night where Tory tries to sneak up on the couch but settles for resting her head in my lap because she knows she''s not supposed to be on the furniture.


    And I just want one more hug with Ashley. One more of his bone-crushing hugs where whatever was bothering you just melted away in his embrace and he just breathed warmth into you and suddenly the impossible day you were having felt possible. One more round of Ultimate Ballgame where he laid out and dove for the ball and stained the entire front of his shirt in mud and grass. One more of those contagious smiles that split his face in half and lit up the whole world.


    Ferris leaned back in his chair, blinking against the burning in his eyes. Crying wasn''t a bad thing. His fathers had put in great effort to teach him that¡ª emotions weren''t bad, and showing them wasn''t either.


    But he didn''t want to.


    Not when he was still digging for anything that might give some sort of why.


    He had long email chains going with Asa and Azrael, Larson, Cynthia. And while he received replies, he wanted more. Ferris wanted to know everything.


    How else was he supposed to solve Ashley''s case if he didn''t have everything?


    He needed to do something. Anything that might help.


    Ferris had already scoured every post made on the CaspianLyonAuthor Muse account for any sort of clue. Had picked up every book on Ashley''s bookshelf in hopes that maybe there was another journal hidden away, despite Charlie telling him there were no more clues in the shelves. Had asked Zip again and again if he had found anything else in the Spider Ridge mines book Ashley had hidden away beneath his bed. Had asked Zip if there was anything suspicious in the Camera Traps, even though they had already been checked.


    Everything felt hopeless. Like there was just nothing to do, nothing that could be done.


    Ferris knew the Moonfall Precinct was working tirelessly on Ashley''s case. That Asa and Azrael were too. But who knew how many other cases they were working on?


    Every case they were investigating deserved justice, of course... but Ferris just wanted answers. He wanted Ashley to be able to rest easier knowing his killers had been caught. He wanted Kristin to have a shot at maybe sleeping through the night. He wanted the Trinity off the streets since they didn''t deserve freedom after what they had done. He wanted to be able to maybe not spend so much time wondering what had happened to his friend, to not spend so much time having the memories of Ashley''s body laying cold on the tray in the Moonfall Precinct flicker through his mind''s eye.


    Ferris groaned and tugged at the roots of his hair. His chair squeaked as he leaned forward too quickly, and his elbows scuffed against his desk. His fathers had always told him that people could change. That bad people could become good if they were willing to put in the work.


    The Trinity was bad, there was no question about that. Ferris knew there was no coming back for the three of them. No matter who they were, no matter what reason they might claim for having killed Ashley and Alaska, murder was something that no one could come back from.


    Things aren''t always black and white, came Tony''s voice. He had been cooking breakfast, whisking eggs. Nine-year-old Ferris had been talking about a book he was reading for school and how the villain was so evil. His father had pressed him on who the villain was, and that led to a conversation about what could be justified and in what circumstances.


    Ferris knew few things were as simple as black and white, but he didn''t know how the Trinity murdering Ashley and Alaska could be anything but black and white. He firmly believed in listening to every side of the story and looking at something from every angle. But what could the Trinity possibly say in their defense?


    He sighed. Maybe he just needed to sit on this and get something to eat. Maybe food in his stomach would jumpstart his brain and give him that lightbulb thought. Some idea he hadn''t thought of that would solve the case.


    Yes, he thought. That would do it. I just need food.


    Ferris flipped off the light switch to his room as he walked through the doorway and out into the living area of the NYTE house.


    xxxx


    The mood was somber. Slow. Sluggish. Silent.


    Ren methodically stacked tomatoes atop meat, cheese, and lettuce on their sandwich. Charlie narrowed her eyes at the tomatoes. Zip stared at Kristin with worried eyes, and Kristin sat at the head of the table, wringing his hands as his knee bounced in a blur.


    "Are you ok, Kristin?" Ferris asked slowly, breaking the quiet.


    "Was it the right decision to give it to them?" Kristin whirled around, stress written across every bit of his expression. His dark eyes were wide, pleading.


    "I..." he trailed off. What could he really say that would solve anything? Yes, and Kristin might feel guilty for not giving Ashley''s journal to the Moonfall Precinct sooner. No, and Kristin might regret his decision and want the journal back.


    "I don''t know," he eventually replied. "I don''t think that it could hurt anything, but I don''t know what the Moonfall Precinct might find. I hope they will find something that will lead to the Trinity''s arrest. But I don''t know."


    "Kristin," Ren said.


    Kristin turned around to face them, and Charlie jolted up from spacing out at the tomatoes on Ren''s sandwich.


    "What?" Kristin''s voice was quiet, rough.


    "They''ll take good care of the journal," Ren said.


    "No way they''re losin'' something like that," Charlie added.


    "Accidents happen." Kristin chewed on his lip. His hands trembled as he clenched them on the table. He looked like he was a half step away from a panic attack, and Ferris guessed he likely was.


    "Sure, but not something like that."


    "You don''t know that."


    Charlie shrugged. "True, I don''t. But that ain''t gonna be happenin'', Kristin. No way the Moonfall Precinct is gonna lose a piece of evidence like that. Something written by Ashley. They''re gonna want that for proof that whoever the Trinity is murdered him."


    "If you..." Zip narrowed his eyes, lips thinning as he mulled over his words. "If you wanted... I-I could-. I could see what the-they have on it."


    Kristin frowned. "You can see what the Moonfall Precinct has on Ashley''s journal?"


    Zip nodded, pushing some beets around on his plate.


    "How?"


    He hesitated, and Ferris tried to read between the lines of what he was saying.


    "Zip," he started as he crossed the room and sat down in a chair beside Kristin. "How legal would you seeing what the Moonfall Precinct has be?"


    Zip didn''t meet his eyes, although he rarely did. "Not... not very."


    "Do it," Kristin said. "Whatever it is, do it."


    Ferris was only somewhat surprised. Before losing Ashley, Kristin wouldn''t have been so quick to say yes, but he wanted answers. And Ferris did too. The line of right and wrong had become more blurred.


    "What would you be doing?" Ferris asked.


    Zip finished chewing on a beet before replying. "Hack them."


    "What do you mean hack them?" Ren asked, carrying their sandwich over to the table and sitting down. Charlie grabbed an orange and followed them so NYTE was all sitting around the kitchen table.


    She sat across from Ferris and slouched down in her chair, ankle pressed against his.


    Zip stared at his fork for a minute as he processed Ren''s question. "Everything is... digitized. Know enough you can do it. Maybe not... not hack. More..." Zip thought over what he was going to say. "More trick them into getting you-you access."


    "That still sounds very illegal." Charlie scratched at the orange''s peel until she could start removing it.


    "Won''t it work though?" Kristin asked.


    "Yeah." Zip nodded. "I can do it."


    "Then shouldn''t we do it?"


    Ren swallowed a bit of their sandwich. "Break into the... online system of the group that''s trying to solve Ashley''s murder?"


    "Wait, hold up. Why can''t we just ask them? Like call Larson up and ask him for information." Charlie paused on peeling her orange in one long strip. She rested her heel against the top of Ferris''s foot beneath the kitchen table, and Ferris tried not to react. He figured she was trying to ground herself.


    "Because they''re not going to tell us!" Kristin cried. "I''ve tried to get information and all I get is we''re working on it or yes, Ashley''s murder is related to Alaska''s¡ª they were both killed by the Trinity but we have yet to find a connection between them. Nothing new, and it''s driving me crazy."


    "How do you know that?" Ferris asked, keeping his voice level.


    He wanted answers. He knew everyone did. But breaking into the databases of the Moonfall Precinct... they were a part of Waverwell government, and getting caught doing that could result in getting arrested. Ferris trusted Zip''s capabilities, but it was still illegal.


    "Because I just do."


    "How about we try talking with Larson and Asa and Azrael before we start thinking about hacking into a Precinct''s servers?" It was a sentence Ferris never thought he would be saying, but nothing was any sort of normal. Everything had been thrown up in the air and spun around until no one knew which way was up.


    He then added: "The Moonfall Precinct is coming by tomorrow to deliver supplies. You can talk with them then."


    "I forgot about that," Kristin murmured.


    "It''s fine. We''ve all got a lot on our plates."


    Charlie picked off a slice of her orange. "Think it''s saying somethin'' that none of us have even looked at the tv in, like, a long time."


    xxxx


    The Moonfall Precinct delivered the supply run shipment the following day. Rift Oberhofer helped unload the van, and Kristin was the first one out the door to greet the officers.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Hello," he said.


    Ferris trailed a few steps behind him.


    Ren stood on the lawn opposite the NYTE house, and they drills with the dogs. Morpheus and Pyxis followed a series of commands while Somnus lay in the shade beside the dogs'' house. None of the dogs spared more than a glance at the Moonfall Precinct van, instead keeping their attention on Ren.


    "Hello, Kristin," Rift replied. "We have brought food and other supplies based on what you have usually gotten in the past. Please let me know if we missed anything."


    "I... I''ll look th-through what you''ve-. You''ve brought." Zip slipped away and walked over to where a group of officers were helping unload the cars.


    Boxes got stacked up and sorted¡ª food, materials for Zip''s workshop, gear for the dogs, miscellaneous items that would get sorted through later.


    Ferris could see the question bubbling on Kristin''s lips. What he wanted to ask but wasn''t going to demand right off the bat. But he held it in and played along with Rift''s questions, and Ferris could see it eating at him. Kristin wanted to know about Ashley, and so did Ferris.


    "Let me know how much all of this cost and who paid, and I can transfer that amount to them," Ferris said, gesturing to the boxes.


    Rift waved his hand. "No, no. It''s already been paid for. Don''t worry about any of it."


    "Wait, hold up." Charlie descended the stairs from the NYTE house, buttoning up her jacket. She threw a ball back to Ren when it bounced into the courtyard. "Who paid?"


    Rift shrugged. "I''m not sure. They wanted to remain anonymous."


    Charlie froze, and she rolled her eyes.


    "They think they''re so smart, don''t they? They think that''ll change anything?" She started back toward the house. "I''ll be back in a few. I need to write a carefully worded letter."


    "Wait, Charlie," Rift asked slowly.


    "Yeah?" Charlie turned around.


    "Why did you name the disease Arkreyitis?"


    Ferris stiffened and looked up, body still as he watched Charlie''s reaction.


    She had paused, expression carefully blank, but Ferris still saw the thousand emotions flicker across her face, far too fast to be able to tell them apart. Charlie narrowed her eyes, rocking back on her feet in a casual motion that was just slightly too robotic for someone who knew her but would look natural to someone like Rift.


    "Slip of the tongue, I suppose," she said, voice falling into a drawl. "Mouth got ahead of my mind. Wish I could take it back, but doesn''t work like that. No proof but doesn''t make it right. Didn''t mean it when I said that."


    Ferris wondered how many times she had practiced those words in the mirror.


    Rift hummed. "I''m not coming after you, so please don''t take that question as me investigating you. I was merely curious."


    "No, no, I don''t think that." Charlie shook her head and shrugged. "It''s a reasonable question. I said stuff without proof, and naming the disease after Arkreon is a pretty big dig at Leviathan Inc., even if it was accidental and I never meant it."


    Ferris''s heart sunk.


    He had hoped that Charlie wouldn''t take her mistake to heart, but he could hear the vein of steel in her voice, the beginnings of a tremble. He could see how she had taken several small steps away from Rift and how she held up her hands in a placating gesture that she passed off as a shrug. He could feel the prickle in his own body as her hackles started to rise and she donned defensive armor, a layer of protection like a cornered coyote¡ª all teeth and claws, lashing out before damage can be done first.


    "Anyway, I''ve got a letter to write, and it ain''t gonna write itself. Nice seein'' ya, Rift." Charlie wiggled her fingers in a farewell before disappearing back into the NYTE house.


    Ferris watched the door for several moments after it had closed.


    "How is the investigation into Ashley going?" Kristin asked.


    "It''s going well. We are continuing to look into the Trinity and possible leads, including information given to us by Felix Fisk. And we are looking through Ashley''s journal. Larson wanted me to let you know how much he appreciates you bringing your brother''s journal to us, Kristin." Rift offered a smile that Kristin did not return. "We hope that Ashley''s journal will give us some insights into the identities of his killers and their motive."


    "So what do you have?"


    Rift exhaled slowly, keeping a pleasant, neutral expression. "I''m sorry, b-."


    "But what?" Kristin growled. "But you can''t tell me?"


    "We will share as much as we can, but we need to ensure that when we catch the Trinity that we have a case that no defense can break."


    "I get that. I really do. But I want to know what you''re doing to catch my brother''s killers. What do you have on Ashley Baok''s case? Have you solved it yet? Do you know why he was killed? Do you know who the Trinity is? Can''t you catch them? Ashley deserves justice." The words poured from Kristin.


    Ferris couldn''t blame him. He felt the same way, even if he wasn''t as close to Ashley as Kristin was. He wanted the Trinity caught. He wanted them locked up forever. He wanted them to pay for what they had done, even though no real justice could ever be served.


    Ashley could never be brought back to life. Neither could Alaska, and neither could any other victims currently unknown to officers.


    "Listen," Rift said, voice softer. He chewed on his lip for a moment, thinking over his words. "I don''t know what you''re going through, and I won''t pretend to know. But I lost my brother a few years ago. His name was Ridge. We lost him in a house fire. It hurts like hell, and I-."


    "Is there something more to this than some I''ve lost someone too? I appreciate the sentiment, but I just want to hear about how you''re going to find the Trinity and reveal their cowardly faces. I want them to rot in jail, completely forgotten while they wither away in their cells, lost in the dark like the monsters they are." Kristin''s chest shook with a shaky breath.


    Rift ducked his head. "I apologize. I was trying to explain that I can understand how much you want to find Ashley''s killers. I do too, and I promise that I will not stop searching. I will do everything that I can to find the Trinity and hold them accountable."


    "It''s not that I don''t believe you, but prove it. Don''t keep telling me that you will, do it. Catch them. I don''t want to see the last faces Ashley ever saw, but I will. I will look them each in the eye and tell them what they took from this world."


    "We will not stop searching, Kristin. I am not foolish enough to say I want to arrest the Trinity as much as you do, but I want to get to the bottom of it all so we can arrest those responsible."


    "Can''t you tell me more?"


    "I wish I could, but there are some things that I cannot say. There are some things only the killer would know, and those facts cannot get out."


    "How close are you?" Ferris asked.


    Rift didn''t respond immediately. "We... it''s hard to say. I''d like to say an arrest warrant is being written as we speak, but we are not there yet."


    "The Trinity killed again. They killed Alaska Wendell March in Corville. Who knows if they have killed others? How much more does it take? Do more families need to get destroyed for you to catch these guys? For the Trinity to be taken off the streets?" Kristin''s expression was pleading, filled with heartbreak and pain and grief that bled through like water dripping through cracked porcelain.


    Ferris winced but held his reaction mostly inside. He didn''t disagree with Kristin. At least two murders was at least two more than should''ve ever occurred. Until the Trinity was locked away, there was the terrifying but all-too real possibility of them killing again.


    But he also knew that the Precinct''s work of investigating a murder was tough and tedious. They needed to comb through every crime scene to make sure nothing was missed, needed to label and sort through every bit of evidence, needed to run tests on the evidence for DNA or fingerprints, needed to piece together what happened with the information they had to arrest the right person and make sure they had the right person.


    But Ferris still just wanted answers.


    He let Rift excuse himself when an officer called for him, and he let Kristin take a walk around camp to get away from everyone.


    Ferris sat down on the steps of the NYTE house and watched a line of ants march through a patch of grass sprouting up from a crack in the concrete. He wished he could be like them¡ª just going about his day with a singular mission in mind. No crushing worries of if a friend''s killers would be caught, if answers would be gotten.


    "Are you ok, Ferris?"


    He looked up to see Ren staring at him. They stood patiently, awaiting a response.


    "Oh, yeah. I''m, uh, I''m fine. Just tired and have a lot on my mind."


    "You can go inside¡ª Zip and I can deal with this."


    "No, it''s really no big deal." Ferris stood up, ready to help with the supply run shipment.


    But Ren stopped him by holding their hand up. "Go inside, Ferris. I can take the lead on this."


    "Bu-."


    "Stop it. Go inside. Charlie needs you."


    Ferris whirled around, then turned back to Ren.


    They raised an eyebrow. "She hasn''t come back outside. She''s usually the last one to leave something like this."


    Ren had a point.


    "Yeah, that''s odd. I''ll go check on her. Let me know if you need anything, alright?"


    Ren inclined their head. "I will."


    xxxx


    Ferris returned to his room, and just as he walked through the doorway, he took a quick step back.


    Charlie sat curled up on his chair, shin braced against the desk, and she face was scrunched up in a look of disgust as she glowered at his computer screen.


    Ren had been right¡ª something was wrong. A bolt of guilt lanced through Ferris''s sternum. He had known Charlie was upset, but he didn''t even bother to stop in and check on her. He would have to find some way to apologize and make it up to her.


    "What''s going on, Springs?"


    Why she was in his room and not her own Ferris didn''t know, but he also didn''t really care. She had some reason. That was enough.


    Charlie moved the mouse around and then clicked a few times, scoffing. "Beverley and Richmond are at it again. Just told Did You Hear?! all about how they''re supporting the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit. Claiming they''re so proud their daughter''s a part of it. The hell they think they''re talkin'' about? Beverley''d have a damn coronary if she found out what I do ¡ªdid¡ª in the SFPU." Charlie laughed, but there was nothing humorous about it. "They think suddenly supporting the place I work is gonna make me like them? They think it''s gonna fix the years of them... of them-."


    Charlie threw her head to the side, lip curling, and Ferris caught a glimpse of the shininess in her eyes.


    "They think it''s gonna fix everything, Dipper."


    "I''m sorry." It was all Ferris could say. Because what could he really say? No words could make it all better. Nothing could erase the years of neglect and manipulation.


    Charlie had never had someone who would be there for her as a child. Ferris didn''t need to know all the details of her childhood to know that. The fraction he did know was enough.


    She was told to go away when things were too much for her and she wasn''t behaving.


    When she cried, she was told to go to her room because big girls didn''t cry.


    In school she acted out because she wanted someone to notice her.


    At home she would pick fights because she wanted her parents'' attention.


    But she would deal with her problems on her own, because that was what she had been taught to do. No one would listen when she needed help, so she learned to solve everything on her own. Fix her problems by herself, or ignore them until they went away.


    Charlie was strong. She had been forced to show a strength Ferris couldn''t begin to understand.


    He wanted her to know that he wanted to see every side of her, not just the one she persona she pieced together for the world. He wanted to see the parts of herself she had been told were bad because they were parts of her.


    "What can I do?" he asked.


    Charlie stared at him, a depth in her watery eyes Ferris had rarely seen. He could see the conflict in her gaze¡ª what she wanted and what she felt she should want.


    "I don''t know," she murmured.


    "Ok," he responded, sitting down against the wall of his room. "I''m here for whatever you want or need."


    They sat in silence. A prickly sort of quiet that was tense but not uncomfortable. Ferris stretched his legs out and tried not to make Charlie feel any sort of pressure. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel like she needed to do something she didn''t want to. He wanted to help, but he had no idea how. He couldn''t relate to what she was going through in the slightest. They were both trying to work through Ashley''s murder, but Ferris had a great relationship with his parents. He couldn''t understand what it was like growing up with parents who didn''t do their job right. And that left him floundering. All he could say was that he was there and do what Charlie wanted of him, and he hoped it would be enough.


    Ferris was snapped out of his thoughts by Charlie throwing a pillow across his lap and flopping down atop his legs. Her knees pressed into the side of his calf, and she wrapped an arm over his shins, fingers holding onto the seam of his pants.


    "Push me away if you want, Dipper," she mumbled into the pillow.


    "I''d never." Ferris placed a careful hand on her shoulder, and when she didn''t flinch or move away, he gently ran his palm up and down her side. He tried not to be too stiff beneath her weight.


    "Don''t have to do this cuz you feel bad."


    "I don''t mind, Springs. Please, don''t feel like you''re forcing me into anything."


    "I know," she whispered, voice nearly a whimper.


    Charlie curled into his legs further, clinging to him tighter, and Ferris wished there was more he could do. He didn''t know her pain, but he wanted to take it away. But he couldn''t. All he could do was be there.


    Ferris continued rubbing her back as Charlie took several deep breaths, exhaling slowly as she trembled.


    But it wasn''t enough. Charlie clawed at the side of his calf and buried her face in the pillow, hissing through her teeth in a choked sob.


    "Why''d they have to show up? Why''d they have to reach out again? I thought I had escaped them. And then they show up right after I slip up and my tongue beat my brain and I said something without thinking and it got me in trouble. And they showed up right after that. Just with their what did we do wrong attitude of innocence and expectance. Why''d they come back, Dipper? Things were already enough with Ashley. Was trying not to let the pain from losing him get to me. And then they just show up the second I slip up. Why''d they have to come back? I didn''t want them."


    "I don''t know," Ferris whispered. It was all he could say. He didn''t know why Beverley and Richmond had shown up to Raconteur that day. He didn''t know what had made them decide to seek out Charlie a year after she had run away.


    "It''s not enough, Dipper. It''s not enough."


    "What isn''t?"


    "I don''t know. Everything is so much. And my skin. It''s too tight." She sat up, raking her fingernails down her arm, and Ferris gently removed her hand before she could hurt herself further. Charlie didn''t seem to notice. Ferris didn''t know if that was better or worse.


    He tried not to freeze too much when Charlie swung a leg over his and wrapped her arms around his sides, crumpling into him. Ferris held onto her, matching how she squeezed him in a bone-crushing embrace. She clung to him like she might get pulled away if she let go.


    Charlie was taking what she needed, and if it offered her comfort, he would give it to her. This was something easy to offer. Ferris didn''t mind physical contact or hugs.


    "It was never your fault," he whispered. "I don''t have to know everything you went through to know that for certain. It was never your fault, Charlie."


    "But maybe..." her voice cracked, and her words trailed off into a choked inhale.


    "You were a child."


    "I know," Charlie eventually replied, turning her face into his neck as she tightened her grip. Ferris pulled her in a little closer. "I know it wasn''t my fault, but my head likes to tell me it is. That maybe if I just did a little better on some assignment my parents would''ve been happy. That maybe if I got into the front row of the ballet recitals my parents would''ve told me I had done a good job. That maybe if I had just sucked it up and worn the dresses and makeup that the fights would''ve stopped."


    Ferris didn''t know what to say in reply. Because what could he say? No words could take back the years of actions Charlie''s parents had made that drove her to feel how she did. He couldn''t say anything that would take away her pain.


    "I''m so sorry," was all he could say. "I''m here. You''re not alone. I''m right here."


    "I know," Charlie repeated.


    "What can I do?"


    "I don''t know."


    Ferris paused, trying to think of what she might want but wasn''t asking for.


    "Do you want to stay here for a while?"


    Charlie was silent for a few minutes, and Ferris was just about to pull back and ask if she was ok with the hug. Even though she started it, she might have gotten uncomfortable.


    "Sorry," she said.


    "For what?" Ferris paused.


    Charlie hooked her chin over his shoulder, and Ferris let himself get tugged back into the embrace before he could fully pull away. "I didn''t respond," she murmured into his neck. "I didn''t want to inconvenience you, but... I mean, hell. You''re like the nicest guy out there. I know you wouldn''t care if I wanted to sit on the floor in silence for like an hour. If that''s what I needed in the moment, you''d happily sit there. But my damn brain likes to tell me it''s gonna make people upset and they''re only doing it out of pity or they want something out of it for their own self gain. Stupid brain just likes to get in the way. I know you don''t care about that stuff. You just wanna be there and help. You''re like Ashley¡ª nice guys."


    "Your brain kept you safe, didn''t it? It kept you away from those fights? It got a read on people so you knew who to avoid?"


    "How''d you know that?" Charlie grumbled in his ear.


    "Educated guess, I suppose."


    "Mr. Smarty Pants."


    "At your service."


    Charlie flicked him in the side, and Ferris felt her smile against his shoulder.


    "Thanks for making me feel better," she said as she fell into him further.


    "Of course. I''m always here." He ran his hand up and down her back.


    "I miss Ashley. Doesn''t feel real that we''ll never see him again."


    Ferris nodded even though Charlie couldn''t see. It didn''t feel real. He still half expected to see Ashley at the kitchen table in the morning or tinkering on a truck in the courtyard, just doing things around the camp. He still half expected to see Ashley arriving back from that last supply run.


    "It doesn''t feel right," he said. "It feels the same way as it does with my dads- I keep feeling like I''m going to see Ashley walk through the door and ask how everyone''s doing."


    Charlie hummed her agreement against his shoulder.


    "Is this weird?" she asked.


    "Is what weird?"


    "You. Me. Us. Here?"


    Realization dawned over Ferris. "Oh, ok. I don''t think so. I suppose it''s only weird if we make it weird."


    "That a challenge, Dipper?" Ferris could hear the taunt in her voice.


    Maybe she wasn''t quite back to normal ¡ªwhatever that looked like in the wake of Ashley''s murder and the return of her parents¡ª but she had calmed down, and Ferris was grateful she felt she could find comfort in him.


    "Do you want it to be one?"


    "Nah, not really," Charlie murmured. "Too tired, so I''ll let you off the hook. But only this time."


    "I wouldn''t expect anything less from you, Springs."

 me84 - Chapter 18 - Chad Malcolm - What Secrets I Know

    Chapter 18


    CHAD MALCOLM


    Chad Malcolm stood on the roof of the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc.


    This morning was the first time he and Darcy had gotten into a real fight.


    The catalyst had just been the stress, he figured. All of the pressure from having to deal with the whistleblower''s claims and now Charlie Springs having named the disease Arkreyitis, a name that held absolutely no evidence behind it but that had begun to stick in the minds of the general public.


    Darcy didn''t mean it. He certainly didn''t either.


    She just needed some space, and he just needed some fresh air.


    They would be back together as good as new soon enough.


    So why did it hurt so much?


    Chad laced his fingers together, forearms on the railing. A breeze blew through, ruffling his hair.


    "Why were you so upset, Darcy?" Chad whispered. "What had you so angry?"


    They had been working in their joint office, each typing away on their computers, trying to work through every PR hoop to make all the right statements and take all the right actions to show people that Leviathan Inc. really could be trusted, just like they always bad been. The disease was horrible, but it wasn''t Leviathan Inc.''s fault. The whistleblower was wrong. Charlie Springs was wrong, too.


    Leviathan Inc. was innocent.


    Chad had asked Darcy if she had a moment to go over a draft of a statement he was writing. He had almost repeated himself since she was hunched over in front of her computer and looking at the screen, a slight furrow in her eyebrows in a focused expression that Chad found gorgeous on her.


    "What do you need my help on?" Darcy had replied, sitting up to focus her attention on him, and her hair swished back over her shoulders and cascaded down her back in gently waving locks that gave her the appearance of a goddess.


    "I''d like your opinion on a draft of a statement regarding Charlie Springs''s statements at the Waverwell News interview where she named the disease Arkreyitis."


    Darcy had stared at him for several long moments, eyes narrowed in a squinty expression.


    And then she scoffed. "Why does it always have to be me doing everything?" she snapped.


    Chad had flinched. "I... I''m sorry?"


    "Why can''t you do something on your own for a change? God."


    "Are you alright? What has you feeling upset, honey?"


    "Don''t honey me, Chad."


    Darcy had stood up and walked over to his desk.


    Chad had pushed back his chair and stood up, allowing his wife to sit down in it when she read through the drafted statement. Darcy adjusted the monitor so it was lower. She looked it over, scrolling through the document, before spinning around in the chair.


    "This is fine, Chad. You didn''t need me to look it over. In the future, don''t ask me to come check on things like this. You know we both have just so much to do."


    "What''s going on, Darcy?" Chad blocked her when she tried to return to her own desk. Whatever it was, he wanted to fix it. Whatever might have been bothering her, he could help. He just wanted her to tell him.


    "Nothing. I''m fine."


    "Please, Darcy. Something is wrong. I want to be there for you and help in any way I can."


    "I said I''m fine."


    A pang of hurt lanced through his chest. Darcy had never spoken to him like that before, and he didn''t know what was wrong.


    There was a coldness in Darcy''s gaze Chad had never seen before. A hollow stare he had never once seen in her eyes. She stared at him evenly, and Chad didn''t know what to do.


    They stood there in silence beside his desk. Chad wracked his brain for anything that might tell him why Darcy was so upset. Perhaps it was just a simple reason¡ª she had gotten into an argument with an employee, she hadn''t slept well, she had eaten bad food and was feeling ill, something small that could be easily worked out. Maybe it was just that, and Chad hoped it was.


    "Would you like some space?" he had asked, voice soft as he tried to keep the hurt hidden. "I can give you some time to yourself if that''s what you want right now. I want to know what I can do, Darcy."


    "Sure." Darcy''s voice was hard, a blade of steel.


    Chad had taken a moment to ready himself and then nodded. "Ok, I will give you some time to yourself. I will be up on the roof if you need anything, and I will have my phone with me. Just call or message if there''s anything I can do."


    Darcy had continued to stare straight forward as Chad grabbed his jacket and walked around her before he''d made his way to the elevator to go up to the roof deck. She didn''t look his way.


    What had gotten her so upset? Chad didn''t know, and he wanted to fix it. But he couldn''t help something he didn''t know.


    A breeze blew through, nipping at his skin through his shirt, and he pulled on his jacket.


    Maybe Darcy was just tired. Maybe it was something so simple like that.


    Chad had been tired. He hadn''t been sleeping well. Everything going on at Leviathan Inc. had been weighing on him, stressing him out as he tried to figure out the right way to lead his company forward.


    He pushed himself off of the railing of the roof deck and paced back and forth a few times.


    The fairy lights strung up over the seating area shone right in his eyes as he sat down heavily on one of the couches and leaned back. Chad glared at them but then folded an arm over his face and took a deep breath.


    He could figure this out. He didn''t know how, but he knew he was capable. He just needed the right information ¡ªthat key piece he did not yet have¡ª and then everything would fall into place.


    There was a path forward, he knew it. Things just weren''t quite clear yet.


    xxxx


    Chad''s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out. A message was waiting for him from Freya Fisk, the receptionist at the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    A letter was waiting for him.


    Chad frowned. He wasn''t expecting a letter, but the CEO of a company as big as Leviathan Inc. often led to mail from a wide variety of people, including those who simply were curious and wanted to ask questions. Many more of the letters he now received were hate mail¡ª harsh sentences hashed out in bold text, demanding answers Chad couldn''t give.


    How could you do this? Was it just some sick desire for money? Was the whistleblower right¡ª did you really create this disease? Is your head so far up in the clouds you can''t see what it''s like for the rest of us? Have you forgotten what life is like when you don''t have endless money to throw around?


    Chad wished he could have a chance to talk with every single person who sent a letter like this. He wished he could tell them that Leviathan Inc. was not at fault. That he wanted the disease gone just as much as they did. That he had looked over every safety report to ensure everything was working as it should be. That the disease was horrible, but Leviathan Inc. was innocent.


    What benefit would Chad get by destroying the lives of countless people in Waverwell? Including customers?


    Chad stretched his arms up over his head, then stood up from the couch, straightening his shirt.


    The elevator ride down to the lobby was quick and direct.


    Only a handful of people milled about in the lobby, scattered across the room. Some sitting on the couches and chairs, others moving to their destinations. But even with more people than Chad had seen in a while, the numbers were still a fraction of those he had once seen. The row of doors to the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc. remained still. Closed.


    They will start up again, Chad told himself. They will start moving once more.


    He gave the doors one last look before crossing the lobby to Freya Fisk''s desk.


    She wore a loose blouse printed with butterflies, and her frizzy hair had been pulled up into a half bun, a few locks hung down in front of her face.


    "Hello, Freya," Chad said. "You messaged me about a letter a few minutes ago?"


    Freya stared at him for just a moment before nodding.


    "Oh, hello, Mr. Malcolm," she said, closing a notebook and turning her attention to him. "Just give me one moment, please."


    "Alright."


    "It just arrived right before I messaged you." She sifted through a divider drawer of mail before finding the right one.


    Freya held out the letter, and Chad took it. There was no return address, simply Chad Malcolm, Leviathan Inc. Corville Headquarters written in neat, uniform text. Seemingly anyone''s handwriting.


    "Did you see who brought in the letter?"


    Freya paused, before offering a sympathetic smile. "No, I''m sorry. I don''t remember what they looked like. Well... I guess I remember that they had blue eyes, but I don''t know how helpful that would really be."


    "It''s ok. I was just wondering." Chad gave a tight-lipped smile in return.


    He took the letter opener Freya gave him and cut open the envelope. There was only one sheet of paper inside, folded into neat thirds.


    Don''t you remember?


    Do you not remember?


    They''re digging, Chad.


    They''re digging.


    And they can''t be digging now, can they?


    Chad was grateful for all of his experience at steeling his expression and not reacting. Those skills came in handy now, although he knew Freya would never ask what the letter was.


    He started to walk back toward the elevators after a brief thank you, but then stopped and returned to Freya''s desk as a thought crossed his mind.


    "I was wondering," Chad started as he folded the letter back up into the envelope and stuck it in his pocket. "Have you seen Felix Fisk recently?"


    Freya shook her head. "No, I have not, Mr. Malcolm."


    "Where is he? I heard on the news about what happened, and I wanted to see how he was doing. Please make sure he knows that he doesn''t need to worry about his job¡ª it''s his whenever he feels ready to return, and he will continue to get his usual paychecks for as long as he needs time off. There is absolutely no rush. It''s not much, but it''s what I can do."


    Freya held his gaze for a few moments, then looked down at her desk, absently shifting papers into various piles. She chewed on her lip.


    "I would pass the message along," she murmured, "but I haven''t spoken with Felix in a few days. Almost a week."


    Chad felt bad for asking. "Oh, I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to pry."


    Freya waved her hand in a dismissal. "No, no, I didn''t mean it like that, Mr. Malcolm. With everything that''s been going on, people are worried about the Trinity. The Moonfall Precinct is keeping him safe, and part of that means I can''t speak with him. No contact at all, and I can''t know where he is."


    "Do you need some time off? Don''t worry about vacation days. Just paid time off for you to do whatever you feel is needed, with no strings attached."


    Chad dipped his head in acknowledgement when someone greeted him as they walked by in the lobby.


    "I greatly appreciate that, Mr. Malcolm. That is very generous of you. But this is distracting me. At home, there is nothing I can do except hope and pray that Felix will be ok. But here I have my job to do and people to keep my mind elsewhere."


    Chad couldn''t say he understood. He could get work being a distraction, at least to an extent. But he had never been in Freya''s situation before. If she said paid time off wasn''t what she needed, he would accept that.


    "Ok," he replied. "If you need anything at all though, please don''t hesitate to ask. The offer still stands if you change your mind, and if you need to leave early or come in late, you may do so. All I ask, though, is that you let me know so I can ensure someone is working here. But take as much time for yourself as you need. I cannot imagine how stressful this whole thing is for you, and I don''t want work to add any more stress."


    Freya nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Malcolm. I appreciate it."


    "Of course. It''s the least I can do."


    "Thank you."


    Chad glanced back at the elevator. He didn''t want to return to the office yet. Darcy had seemed so upset. If she needed space, the last thing he wanted to do was to cause her more trouble. Maybe that was all she would really need¡ª some space.


    "Do you have somewhere you need to be? I don''t wish to keep you if you have places to be, Mr. Malcolm."


    Chad turned back to Freya, and he shook his head. "No, it''s not that. Darcy just had a meeting and wanted me out of our office."


    It felt wrong lying to Freya, but it also didn''t feel right sharing something so like a fight. What if Darcy was having some personal trouble?


    Freya tilted her head to the side, then nodded. "Alright. You know, there is one good thing about my job."


    "What''s the good thing about it?" Chad took the bait.


    "I know when people aren''t being truthful. And that''s not me pushing you for the truth¡ª it''s your business, not mine."


    "So your job lets you be like a human lie detector?"


    Freya twisted her mouth as she pondered the question. She leaned back in her chair. "Not exactly. More it''s that my job is one that allows me to often get overlooked. No one really looks at me twice, if they even notice me at all. I''m a people watcher, and they don''t watch me back."


    "So you just watch people all day?"


    Freya smiled, and inclined her head in a slight nod. "Well, when you put it that way, it sounds a bit creepy. I don''t watch people and just stare at them, but I notice things. I spend all day in the lobby of this building, so I see pretty much everyone who comes into the Corville headquarters. This job is a lot of work¡ª pointing people in the right direction of wherever they''re going, signing off on mail slips and making sure packages get to the right desk, restaurant recommendations for tourists, and answering phone calls and forwarding said calls to the right person. But it also has some down time, and it lets me interact with many people for just a few brief moments all day. You''d be surprised what people will say to me and what secrets I know."


    Chad raised an eyebrow. "Really? What have people told you?"


    "I''ve heard about cheating spouses or how they''re finding their coworker so very attractive. People have told me about how their pets are eating shoes or how their children are coloring on the walls. More than a few times someone has come in and shared complaints about how their spouse is doing this or that and it''s driving them up the wall."


    "So it seems you know a lot of things," Chad said.


    Freya shrugged. "I suppose. It''s mostly a lot of pretty harmless things like that¡ª a significant other doing something annoying or a kid acting out because they''re just at that age."


    Chad hummed, nodding. "Yeah, I can see that. Well, I''d best be going. It was very nice talking with you, Freya. And please, let me know if there is anything I can do. I cannot imagine what this time has been like for you and Felix."


    "I will, and thank you. Have a nice rest of your day, Mr. Malcolm."


    "You too, Freya."


    Chad made his way back to the elevator, and the letter was a lead weight in his pocket.


    They''re digging. And they can''t be digging now, can they?


    He didn''t like that. It didn''t make him feel good. But there was some way to fix it all. To make everything go back to how it was. A smooth engine running efficiently, just as it had been designed to. Not the smoking, faltering thing it was now.


    He would figure out what had made Darcy so upset, fix it, and then turn his attention to Leviathan Inc.


    Maybe he would have to make some trip back out to Cat''s Cradle. Return to the Night Owl to take a look at every part of his company.


    Perhaps it would let him see if there really was some festering sore in the side of the serpent that needed to be removed.


    If there was some rotten part of his company, if there was some shifting demon hiding within the depths of Leviathan Inc., if there was some skittering little spider hiding within the walls, then Chad would find them. Rotten flesh could be cut out, a demon captured, a spider crushed beneath a heel.


    Leviathan Inc. could rise again. It would rise again. Chad could see his goal off in the distance; he just had to find a way to cross the valley ¡ªthis rough patch in the road¡ª first.

 me84 - Chapter 19 - Cynthia Corville - A Matter of Time

    Chapter 19


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Cynthia Corville, for the first time in her memory, wanted to punch something hard enough that the lights flickered and the walls rattled.


    She didn''t know if removing Delta Bass from Waverwell government would be enough, but she didn''t have anything she could offer a lawyer that could lead to charges being brought against him.


    All she had seen was Delta scrambling away from a highly irritated Gabriella as soon as she had walked through the door.


    And after asking if she wanted to speak with someone, Gabriella had refused and told her that Delta had gotten the message.


    Cynthia knew she likely didn''t have enough to form any real case against him, much less successfully remove him from Waverwell government. She had power as President of Waverwell, but her decisions could be challenged and reversed if enough felt differently than she did. And she would likely only get one shot to remove Delta. It had to be done right the first time.


    Cynthia could keep her country going and solve every problem, but not if she lost her cool. She had to remain calm so she could think logically.


    It''s fine, Gabriella had said. Delta got the message. I just needed to shove it into him... literally.


    And Cynthia had just nodded and said ok. She wasn''t there, and Gabriella wasn''t in a sharing type of mood.


    Soon after, Harold and Linda walked into the room.


    Cynthia sat at the head of the table, with Gabriella and Harold at either side of her and Linda and Delta further down.


    The meeting started off with everyone introducing themselves¡ª Cynthia Corville, Gabriella Torres, Harold Morris, Linda Machowski, Delta Bass. Linda took notes, as usual.


    "The deaths from the disease are increasing," Cynthia began, voice flat to keep the emotion from weaving its way through her words.


    Delta squinted, pursing his lips. "So... how long until we can do stuff again, cuz there''s this party-."


    "There will be no party," Cynthia said. "People need to be staying far away from each other. The disease is getting increasingly deadly, and doctors still do not yet know how to slow it, much less stop it."


    "Delta, not the time." Linda shook her head when Delta opened his mouth to speak.


    "Fine. I''ll send a message in the group chat to postpone the party. It was going to happen tomorrow."


    "So how much longer are we thinking on keeping the lockdown going?" Harold asked. "I''ve been watching the economy... and it''s not looking good. Businesses are really struggling."


    "I wish I could say, Harold." Cynthia shrugged.


    "Like another week? Another two weeks?"


    Gabriella scoffed. "I wish."


    "Three weeks?"


    "I honestly do not know, Harold. I want to lift the lockdown ¡ªI truly do¡ª but people are dying, and this is currently the only known way to stop the disease."


    "Can''t people just make their own decisions? If they get sick, that''s kinda on them, right?"


    Cynthia stared at Harold in stunned silence.


    "What?" he asked.


    "It''s not someone''s fault for getting sick!"


    "I mean... they were outside."


    "That doesn''t make it their fault. And that is what the lockdown is for¡ª it keeps people inside to help prevent the disease from spreading."


    "No, the lockdown is making the economy fail."


    "The lockdown is helping keep confirmed disease infections and deaths from spiking."


    "The economy-."


    "Is not the concern." Gabriella''s voice was flat but firm, not open to questions. Internally, Cynthia wanted to smile. But she kept her external expression neutral.


    Harold snorted. "You know, you''d be a lot nicer if you weren''t so rude."


    "Is that supposed to upset me?"


    "You''re supposed to remain respectful."


    "I''ll remain respectful, and I expect the same of you."


    "Yeah, sure." Harold waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "The numbers of infections and deaths aren''t even that high. Shouldn''t we just remove the lockdown?"


    Gabriella let out a sharp exhale, dark eyes flashing. Her nails clicked together as she interlaced her fingers.


    "And that''s exactly why we need the lockdown!" she snapped. "The lockdown is keeping those numbers from being higher!"


    "No," Harold replied with a frown. His suit made him look orange, and Cynthia wasn''t quite sure how that was possible. "People can make their own decisions. We can''t lose the economy just because of this disease. Imagine how long it will take to rebuild. And if we give people the right information, they can come to their own conclusions about what is best for them."


    "People''s lives come above the economy. We can rebuild an economy, but we cannot rebuild lives lost."


    "Harold is right, Gabriella," Delta said.


    "We will never agree on this." She locked eyes with him, an iciness spreading through her gaze.


    "That hurts."


    "That won''t change my mind." Gabriella turned her attention back to Cynthia. "So, have you gotten any update from Danzig and the Corville Medical Center?"


    "Sort of. I have a meeting with Danzig later today. They are coming here, and they will explain the changes in the disease and what is now known. And they will also share the updated recommendations for how best to combat the disease."


    "Perhaps this meeting should have waited until after Danzig is here," Linda murmured as she finished a line in her notes. A moon necklace hung around her neck, and light glimmered on the diamond stars.


    Harold leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "It was the only time all of us could meet, and it was better to have the meeting now than wait. Of course, decisions regarding what to actually do will wait until later."


    "And why couldn''t this have just waited until tomorrow?" Delta plucked a flower from the vase in the middle of the table. It was a daffodil, freshly cut and colored with a bright yellow.


    "Here, Gabriella. This reminded me of you." He held out the daffodil.


    She didn''t even glance at him. "No."


    "But I''m giving it to you."


    "And I said no." This time, Gabriella did look at Delta, and she raised an eyebrow at him.


    "It''s rude not to accept gifts."


    "It''s rude to continue trying when someone has made it clear they are not interested."


    "I''m trying to be nice, can''t you see that? I''m doing something nice for you, so the least you can do is be respectful."


    "You''re no longer being nice when the person has made it clear they don''t want you talking to them."


    Gabriella held Delta''s gaze as he stared at her, expression flickering between confused, sad, stunned, and angry.


    "For the last time, Delta, I am not interested. Go find someone else to pursue."


    He didn''t respond, and he stuffed the daffodil back into the vase. Its stem cracked, and he flicked it.


    The rest of the meeting went similarly to how it had been going¡ª talking around in circles, no one budging, sharp words exchanged blow for blow.


    Cynthia didn''t know how she would get the disease under control. She didn''t know how the Trinity would be caught. She didn''t know when Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March''s murders would be solved. She didn''t know the next steps in how she would keep her country afloat, but she knew she had to find some way. There was some way she could lead Waverwell through this. The path existed, Cynthia just didn''t know where it was.


    But she would find it.


    She just had no idea where to begin. It felt like she was walking through quicksand, and it was rapidly pulling her down. Every attempt to pull her country out of this turmoil seemed to have failed.


    Cynthia had never felt so hopeless, and it was a feeling she was becoming far too familiar with lately. She hated it, and she didn''t hate much.


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    But she would find some way. She had to.


    xxxx


    Cynthia''s first impression of Danzig Sterling was that they might have forgotten to iron their clothing. Or, perhaps, that they had slept in their clothing. Or, at the very least, that they hadn''t really been paying attention as they were getting dressed.


    Danzig''s shirt was on inside out beneath their corduroy jacket, their pants were wrinkled, and their auburn hair stuck up at every angle while a pair of glasses seemed about to fall off their nose.


    Their gaze flitted across every surface in the President''s Room the second they walked through the door, and their fingers tapped against their thighs as they crossed the room to sit down opposite Cynthia at her desk. Danzig''s knee bounced as they waited for her to break the silence.


    "Hello, Dr. Sterling," she said.


    "Hello, Mrs. President. Please, call me Danzig."


    "Very well." Cynthia nodded. "And please call me Cynthia."


    "Alright. I appreciate the safety measures." Danzig gestured to the open windows and the distanced chairs, keeping air flowing through the room and physical space between the two of them.


    "We want to do what we can."


    "You called me here to know how things are going as far as the research into the disease?"


    Cynthia nodded again. "Yes, please."


    "I''m sorry, but it''s not all good news. I''m sure you''re aware the deaths are continuing to rise?"


    "I am."


    "We believe the disease may have mutated into a much more deadly form, and the survival rate is continuing to drop."


    Cynthia''s skin prickled as the temperature of the room seemed to plummet and her stomach dropped through her toes.


    "W-." Cynthia''s voice trembled, and she masked it by clearing her throat. She continued when the shock wasn''t so strong and her voice wouldn''t waver. "What can we do to stop it? What do you need to stop the disease?"


    Danzig pulled a pen and small pad of paper from their pocket and jotted something down. They frowned at it, scribbled it out, and then wrote something else. "Sorry, I had an idea of a possible new avenue to go down. What was the question?"


    "What do you need to stop this disease? What can we do?"


    They sucked on their teeth. "Well, we''ve got the funding and I know you''ll give me whatever we need. I think, sadly, it''s just time, which we don''t have. We need time to go through the data, time to get to whatever caused the original outbreak, time to figure out the proper treatment of the disease, time to make sure the treatment is safe, done right, and exceeds every standard set for protocols of treatments. And we don''t have time." Danzig''s mouth twisted into a sad smile. "We don''t have time."


    That was becoming a common theme¡ª time was needed, and there was no time. Things were needed right then, and they took time.


    It frustrated Cynthia to no end.


    xxxx


    Dawn had just broken over the horizon, orange just barely bleeding into the sky, and Cynthia was already wide awake, showered, dressed, and getting on with her day. Currently, she was going through her email inbox.


    "Sin," Charlotte grumbled as she woke up, face still pressed into her pillow. "Wha''cha doin''? It''s so early."


    "I know, Char," she replied. "I''ve just got a lot to do, and I want to try to have some time with you this evening."


    "You know that every time you say that, you end up going to bed way past midnight? I think you just jinxed it." Cynthia laughed at Charlotte''s words, and she deleted a few emails she knew she didn''t need.


    "True, but I still remain hopeful."


    Cynthia''s breath caught in her throat.


    A new email had just reached her inbox. It was labeled URGENT! And was flagged in red. Immediately after, an email from Gabriella arrived, and she was asking about the email she had just received.


    "Oh, no," she breathed as she opened the email and read through.


    Charlotte''s hands ran across her shoulders and down her arms¡ª she had gotten out of bed. "What''s going on?" she asked, voice heavy with sleep. Her forehead pressed against the crook of Cynthia''s shoulder.


    "Pyr Iskie has escaped from the Moonfall Prison."


    "I didn''t know how he could do that," Charlotte murmured.


    "He escaped once before. I thought you knew that." Cynthia turned around in her chair to face her wife, who shrugged in response.


    "Yeah," Charlotte said, "but it was clear he had help. A prison guard admitted to pretty much just walking him out the door, and it was determined to be true. Anyway, what happened this time?"


    "This time, the cameras stopped working, and by the time they got back online, Pyr Iskie''s cell was empty and he was nowhere to be found."


    "How the hell?" Charlotte murmured. "Pardon my language, of course, but how did Pyr manage to do that? The previous time someone just walked him out the door, and this time the cameras all shut off?"


    "I''m guessing he had help, although I don''t know from whom."


    "Yeah, I don''t know who would do that," Charlotte agreed.


    Cynthia pinched the bridge of her nose. The sun had hardly risen, and now Pyr Iskie had somehow managed to escape prison. She didn''t need anything else on her plate, but she would figure out some way to deal with it.


    "I''m going to call Larson and see what he''s doing about this."


    Charlotte rubbed her shoulders. "Take a deep breath first, Sin. You''re human, like you always tell people when they try to call you President Corville. Nothing wrong with taking a moment to breathe and get your thoughts in line."


    "I''ve got a trio of murderers on the loose, a disease that''s somehow mutated into a highly deadly form of itself, a massive energy company angry over an interview that''s also under fire from alleged claims by a whistleblower that have yet to be proven, and now a convicted wildlife offender who has escaped prison twice." Cynthia exhaled through her teeth, then ran her hands over her face. "I''m sorry, Char."


    "No need to apologize," Charlotte said, a knowing smile in her voice. "You needed to get it out. You''ve got a lot on your plate, and you''re still a human being who''s got feelings. Don''t forget you''re not a robot. There''s quite a bit going on and there''s so much bad in the world right now. It''s only natural you''d be feeling stuff in response. Deep breaths, and feel the feels cuz they''ll stick around until you do. Now, whenever you''re ready, call Larson and get an update from him. I''ll be getting dressed and then eating some breakfast, so join me when you''re done."


    Charlotte pressed a quick kiss to Cynthia''s lips and wiggled her fingers in a farewell.


    The telephone on Cynthia''s desk loomed, a large presence that didn''t match its small size.


    She could do this. She could figure out this new thing on her plate. She knew how to balance everything¡ª if a President didn''t have that skill when they started, they would soon learn it and learn it well. Pyr Iskie''s escape would be figured out. Larson Hotch had the skills and officers to track down and arrest Pyr and ensure he stayed put.


    Cynthia picked up the phone and dialed Larson''s number, and it rang only twice before he answered.


    "Hello?"


    "Hello, Detective Larson Hotch. This is President Cynthia Corville."


    "Oh," he said. "Hello, Pres-. Sorry, Cynthia."


    "It''s ok. How are you doing?"


    "I''m... I''m doing ok. Lots going on, as I''m sure you know."


    "Yes, that''s a bit of what I was calling about."


    "I''m guessing you''re calling because Pyr Iskie is on the loose?" Larson''s voice was short, irritated, but Cynthia knew the feelings weren''t directed at her.


    She put the phone down and placed it on speaker so her hands were free to take notes.


    "So it''s true?"


    "Yup," Larson sighed, and Cynthia could hear the exhaustion in his voice. "Pyr did escape prison yesterday, and we''re still working out exactly how he did it. We''ve enlisted some help from the Sunrise and the Warren Precincts since most of our officers are working on Ashley Baok''s case and identifying the Trinity alongside Ryzor Oberhofer and the Corville Precinct. We don''t know where he currently is, but we will catch him. We have a few officers patrolling Silverlight Forest, and Ferris Dipper has offered to assist."


    Larson paused for a long moment. Cynthia wondered when the last time he had slept was.


    But then he continued: "I mean, the SFPU has made their own group NYTE to get to the bottom of Ashley''s murder. Now You Tell Everyone. They won''t leave it alone. And I''m sure they''d absolutely be able to solve it, they just don''t have the resources we, the Precincts, do. I want to be able to tell them what happened to their brother and their friend. I want to be able to say here are the people responsible, we have caught and charged them, it won''t bring back Ashly but they will spend the rest of their lives in prison. But I can''t yet. We can only keep looking at every possible angle and following up on every lead and tip and clue we receive.


    "And I think they know as well as we do that the Trinity is more than capable of another murder. It''s just this cloud hanging over our heads. I don''t want another body, Cynthia. Even if it gave every piece of evidence we need to know who the Trinity is and get that piece of evidence that seals the conviction and guarantees a guilty verdict and life in prison, I don''t want the body. I don''t want someone else''s life stolen and to see the souls of their families drain away as their lives change forever and their own life sentence claims them like handcuffs snapping shut on their wrists."


    Cynthia didn''t quite know what to say.


    "I don''t want another body either," she whispered, then added, louder: "Two is already unthinkable and beyond words. The thought that there could already be more that haven''t been linked to the Trinity is horrifying. And I don''t want another life taken at the hands of the Trinity. Do what you have to. I don''t care what it is, so long as you stay within the law. Catch the Trinity, but do it right. The Trinity might be... skilled, as much as it disgusts me to say that, but you, Asa, Azrael, Sedge, Ryzor, and every single person working Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March''s cases are far more skilled than they are. I know you will can catch them. And whatever you need to do so, it''s yours."


    "Thank you, Cynthia," Larson replied.


    "How close are you, if you can say?"


    "We''re close. We''re closing in." There was a tremble in Larson''s voice, a thread of shock like he couldn''t quite believe what he was saying.


    For the first time in weeks, Cynthia felt like she could breathe again. Hope fluttered its wings in her chest, and the crushing weight on her shoulders seemed bearable once more. Perhaps she really would be able to handle everything and she wouldn''t stumble and falter as she tried to keep her country afloat.


    "You''re going to be arresting the Trinity soon?"


    Larson paused for just a moment too long, and Cynthia''s breath caught once more.


    "I cannot give a timeline, but I can say that we are getting close to identifying the Trinity and having a case strong enough to arrest them that, with as much certainty as we can realistically have, will guarantee a conviction. We will need to be certain though, since I cannot see us getting more than one shot at arresting, charging, and convicting the Trinity. It will have to be done perfectly the first time. But we''ve got the strongest team out there, and we''re working with Ryzor Oberhofer. I don''t think there''s anyone better than him to be lead detective at the Corville Precinct. And you gave us Asa and Azrael Smith, who have been working tirelessly alongside the officers and detectives at the Moonfall Precinct. We will get them, it''s just a matter of time."


    "I know you will, Larson. That isn''t my concern."


    Cynthia couldn''t quite get herself to say it. My concern is that the Trinity will kill again. A part of her felt like saying it out loud would make it true. Some twisted wish upon a star. She said it, and the Trinity would kill again, and it would feel like her fault. Like she had asked for someone to die.


    But even in the silence on Larson''s end of the phone, Cynthia knew he understood. She knew he understood exactly what she was talking about.


    "It''s our concern as well, like I said before. We''re working around the clock, but we''re human. We need rest and to take care of ourselves, yet no one wants to leave. I''ve had to nearly chase several detectives and officers out of the Precinct to go home, take a shower, and sleep for at least a few hours. I don''t think the coffee machine has stopped running since Ashley Baok''s murder. Sedge has set up a couple makeshift cots so people can take naps at the Precinct. We all know we''re working against the clock, but we''re nearing the finish line. I hope we arrest them before they go after their next victim. I really, really do. We''re getting close, and all I can do is keep working, keep having my detectives work, and hope it''s close enough that we can catch the Trinity before it''s too late. We need just a little more time, and we all know that we don''t have it."


    "I hope you can, too," Cynthia murmured. "Please let me know if you need anything, Larson. Tell me, and it''s yours. The Trinity does not deserve to be walking free. I do not want them on the streets of Waverwell. They have lost that right, and that is not something I say lightly."


    Cynthia believed firmly in everyone having their own rights. Everyone had the right to make their own decisions. But there were some things that were unforgivable in the eyes of the law


    "I know," Larson replied quietly. "I have already begun coordinating with other Precincts to have a group ready to go to arrest the Trinity as seamlessly and as safely as possible. The instant I can, I will arrest the Trinity, and they will be charged with everything they can be."


    "And I will be there to provide whatever assistance I can."


    Cynthia wouldn''t celebrate when the Trinity was caught. She knew she would be happy and would breathe a sigh of relief, but she wouldn''t celebrate.


    Ashley Baok was dead. Alaska Wendell March was dead. Others might be dead who died at the hands of the Trinity.


    And they couldn''t be brought back to life.


    But the Trinity locked away in prison meant no one else could get hurt. And that was a weight that would get lifted off her shoulders and hopefully provide some measure of comfort to the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit and Kansas Sampson March.


    It was just a matter of time, and Cynthia hoped they had enough.

 me84 - Chapter 20 - Ren - It Was Me

    Chapter 20


    REN


    Ren waited for just over a minute, kept Somnus in a sit on the bed in his kennel for another few moments, and then released the dog.


    "Somnus, find," they said.


    Somnus took off like a bullet, nose to the ground and tail wagging as he bounded out of the dogs'' house and into the courtyard. He circled the perimeter, doubling back a few times, then crossing it.


    And Ren saw the exact moment he found what he was looking for. Every muscle in Somnus''s body tensed beneath his short fur, and his cropped ears pricked. His sides quivered as he shifted the air Ren followed the line of his nose, and his eyes were locked onto his target.


    Ren crept along the side of the dogs'' house until they reached the edge and exhaled a breath.


    "Freeze!" they shouted, peering around the side to keep their target in sight. "You are under arrest. I am giving you one chance to turn yourself in before I send my dog after you."


    Ren waited for one, two, thr-.


    Their target started moving, taking a few quick steps before accelerating to a sprint.


    "Somnus, take down."


    The dog didn''t hesitate. His paws threw up little puffs of dirt as he bolted after his target in a grey blur. He disappeared around the corner, and Ren jogged to keep up.


    The chase didn''t last long. There was a yelp followed by a thud and a grunt and a snarl. As Ren approached, Somnus had his target held down by a grip on the arm.


    "Somnus, release."


    Ren thought Somnus''s gaze almost looked smug as he let go and trotted over. Hey, look what I did, his sparkling eyes seemed to say as his tongue lolled out to the side. He couldn''t outrun me. I caught him.


    "Yup, he''s still got it." Ferris sat up, grimacing and rolling his shoulder. "He got me good."


    "Are you alright?" Ren asked.


    Ferris nodded. "Yes, I am. He just got a good grip." He gestured to the padded bite suit.


    Ren placed Somnus in a sit and then offered a hand to Ferris, which he took, and they pulled him to his feet.


    "Thanks. I''m very glad I have the padded suit, because that would hurt getting bitten without it. He''s got a very strong bite." Ferris peeled open the velcro, and then undid the clasps holding the jacket of the bite suit together. He shrugged the top piece off, then unbuckled the suspender straps on the pants of the bite suit, before stepping out of them.


    After brushing off a few twigs and leaves, Ferris picked up the bite suit and jerked his head toward the dogs'' house. "Let''s go."


    "How is Charlie doing?" Ren asked as they pulled open the door and held it for Ferris. Morpheus lifted his head, and Pyxis wagged her tail from behind the gate to her pen.


    Ferris twisted his mouth, pausing in wrapping the bite suit around a hanger. He pondered over his words, and when he spoke, it was slowly. "Charlie... she''s doing ok. As ok as she... can be, I suppose. She knows that we''re all there for her, but I know that none of us can really relate to what she''s feeling and she knows that too."


    "We''re all there for her, but it is true that we don''t know what it''s like." Ren agreed as they ushered Somnus into his pen and filled up his water bowl.


    "Do you think her parents really want a relationship with her?"


    Ren shrugged. "I don''t know. Perhaps they don''t realize what they''ve done."


    Ren opened Morpheus''s pen and crouched down by his side. They had him lie down, and then they ran their hand over his flank, pushing back his fur to look at the wound Pyr had caused. All that was now left was a pink line covered with a thin dusting of baby hairs from when Kristin had shaved the area.


    Morpheus gazed at them through calm eyes, as if trying to tell them that he was ready to work.


    "That..." Ferris grimaced. He adjusted the bite suit so it hung straight. "I can''t imagine any parent not realizing when they''ve messed up. Mistakes are ok, but you need to own up to them and figure out the right steps to make it right and then follow through."


    "True," Ren replied, rubbing Morpheus''s ear just how he liked it before standing up and exiting his pen. "But your fathers were both very present in your childhood."


    Ferris sighed as he crossed the room to scratch Pyxis on the head. "I know, I know. It''s hard imagining a childhood other than mine, and it''s sometimes easy to forget. I don''t want to accidentally want to say the wrong thing, you know?"


    "I get the sentiment."


    "I''m sorry for treating you like a therapist."


    Ren shook their head. "I don''t mind. If I''m ever not in the right mindset, you know I will tell you."


    "I know, and I appreciate it." Ferris offered a smile. "Shall we go get some lunch?"


    "Yes, I am hungry."


    Ren did one last once-over of the dogs to make sure they all had water and access to their outdoor runs if they wished.


    xxxx


    Inside the NYTE house, Charlie and Kristin were tag teaming in making scrambled eggs, although neither seemed particularly enthusiastic and Charlie was on her phone while Kristin slowly stirred the eggs, expression distant. Zip flipped through a book on the couch, curled up beneath a blanket. No one looked up as Ferris followed Ren through the doorway.


    "Zip, I''m going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?" Ferris asked as he opened the fridge to see what was available.


    This time, Charlie did glance back, gaze shifting to Ferris and then to Zip. She smiled. "Zip!"


    He flinched, startled. "Y-yeah?"


    Charlie jerked her thumb at Ferris. "Dipper''s makin'' something to eat. You want anything?"


    Zip placed his bookmark between the pages of his book, and then closed it, setting it on the coffee table with careful precision. He thought about it before replying. "A... a sandwich, please."


    "Ham and cheese? PB&J? What would you like on it?"


    "PB&... J, please."


    "Alrighty. I''ll bring it over when it''s ready."


    Charlie huffed and dropped her phone on the counter. "Ren, can you put something on? It''s so quiet in here. I can''t think. Kristin, wanna move over? I can finish the eggs."


    He muttered a soft thanks, then shuffled over to the table and sat down.


    "Do you want some music or something on the tv?"


    "Tv. Music isn''t enough. I need to see it too right now."


    Ren nodded. Zip sat up to make room as they sat down on the couch. When Ferris offered to make them a sandwich as well, Ren accepted and said they''d eat whatever he was having.


    Picking up the remote and turning the tv on felt strange. Zip had disabled the Camera Trap alerts on it and wired it so they instead went to the Moonfall Precinct. The group had discussed returning to their former job of arresting poachers, but no one really wanted to. Not while the Trinity was still on the loose and no one knew what had really happened that night.


    No one except Ashley and the Trinity, Ren''s subconscious added.


    They turned the tv on, and it was still set to Waverwell News. Ren went to switch the channel after what had happened when NYTE was interviewed by Shaheena, but Kristin stopped them.


    "Wait!" he said, hurrying over to stand behind the couch. "That''s Jason."


    "Who''s Jason again?" Ferris asked, turning around and balancing three plates in his hands. Zip pushed off his blanket and got his sandwich from Ferris.


    "Jason Starr. Alaska''s ex-boyfriend."


    "What the hell''s he doin'' on Waverwell News?" Charlie grumbled as she scooped scrambled eggs onto two plates.


    "No idea," Kristin replied.


    "Let''s see then."


    They all piled onto the couch. Ferris, Ren, and Kristin sat on the couch, and Charlie and Zip perched on either arm.


    Waverwell News showed the same stage that NYTE had been interviewed on, and sunlight bathed everything in a soft glow.


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    Jason Starr lounged in his seat across from Shaheena. He had an arm up on the back of his chair and his legs stretched long in front of him. An easy smile spread across his face and his eyes were hooded to match his expression.


    Jason''s outfit was the opposite of Shaheena''s in every way possible; she wore an orange dress cinched around the waist with a chain belt, and he wore loose sweatpants and a T-shirt. She had her hair done in neat curls that framed her face, and he had his hair gelled up into spikes that stuck up at every angle.


    "Hello, Jason Starr. Thank you for giving us your time and agreeing to answer some of our questions."


    "Of course, Shaheena," he drawled in reply. "I''m always so happy to help. I really want to get Alaska''s murder solved, so just... anything I can do to help out. We had our fights since she just couldn''t understand what I was saying sometimes, but she deserves justice and was a good person at heart."


    "So you knew Alaska?"


    Jason nodded. "Indeed I did. We worked together, and we dated. But then she cheated and that caused a bunch of problems. But regardless, I just want to know what happened."


    Shaheena hummed, giving no real response.


    "So what do you think happened?"


    "I don''t know." Jason shrugged. "I mean, Ryzor from the Corville Precinct told me that the Trinity killed her and that they killed that Ashley guy, too, but they haven''t found them. I want answers, you know?"


    Ren glanced over at Kristin, and he was staring at the tv. His dark eyes hardened. "Ashley was far more than that Ashley guy, Jason," he said, voice low and grinding.


    "Sources have told me that you and Alaska were frequently in fights and that the two of you had a very rocky relationship. What can you tell me about that?"


    Jason jumped forward in his seat, holding out his hand. "What the-... what sources are you talking about? Lemme see those papers."


    Shaheena gave them over and let Jason read through them.


    "Well, everyone has fights."


    "Sources have stated that you and her frequently broke up and then got back together again."


    "Everyone does that. It wasn''t forever. We''re supposed to be together, you know. Whatever. Just because Alaska and I sometimes had our differences doesn''t mean I''m guilty of anything. We fought sometimes, but that doesn''t mean I killed her. I was working when she was murdered!"


    Kristin leaned forward and turned off the tv.


    "I''m done with that. I thought I could handle it, but it seems not. You can keep watching, but I don''t want to hear it." Kristin picked his way off the couch, dropped his mostly-full plate of scrambled eggs on the counter, then retreated to his room and shut the door behind him. A moment later, Ren heard a muted thump of what they assumed was him laying down on his bed.


    "Maybe we shouldn''t be watching tv so soon," Ferris murmured.


    "I just wanted something to break the silence in this house."


    "It''s not your fault, Charlie," Ren said.


    "I''m going to... to check on-on him," Zip said softly, standing up and slipping away.


    "I''m going to deal with my parents," Charlie grumbled. "So much for a group lunch. Maybe we''ll get dinner together."


    "How about I make something?" Ferris offered. "We''ve got some chicken that probably won''t keep for much longer. How about I find a recipe to go with it and make that for tonight?"


    Charlie shrugged as she cleared her plate. "Sure, if you wanna. Ain''t gonna stop ya."


    Ferris turned to Ren once they were alone and Charlie had returned to her own room. "How are you doing?" he asked.


    Ren shrugged, looking down at their hands. "I''m doing ok," they murmured. "I don''t think I would''ve been able to handle hearing about Ashley, but it''s still tough with Alaska. I suppose I may have forgotten just what it has done to me and the effects losing Ashley is still having. Is it wrong that sometimes I forget how much it hurts?"


    Ferris was silent for a moment, and Ren looked up at him. He had his elbows on his knees, and he stared at the ground. "No, I don''t think it''s wrong. The hurt comes and goes for me. Sometimes it feels like I won''t make it another minute without having Ashley around, and then other times it feels like maybe I will. Still feel that dagger in my chest though. Still feels like I should check and see if I''m bleeding out."


    Ferris ran a hand across his chest, moving back and forth like rubbing a scar.


    Ren leaned back on the couch and closed their eyes, wrapping their arms around their sides. "I think I can get that feeling," they whispered.


    They could feel each beat of their heart and the emptiness in the house, and they could hear the hollow ringing in the air, the silence where there should''ve been laughter. Ashley rarely stopped laughing, and he and Charlie were constantly teasing each other or pranking each other. He and Kristin were inseparable and hardly spent any time out of earshot of each other. Zip would often have Ashley helping repair vehicles. Ferris would get his help on requesting funding or coordinating with politicians or Precinct officers. Ashley would help Ren train the dogs and would volunteer to wear the bite suit, taking pointers from Ren on how best to work with them and make sure the dogs knew exactly what to do while biting someone.


    And now the house was so quiet.


    "I need something to do," Ren found themselves saying. They rinsed off their plate and placed it in the dishwasher. "I''m going to see if Charlie wants any help."


    "Ok," Ferris replied. He pulled out his phone to look for chicken recipes. "You''re not alone in missing Ashley but sometimes feeling like the hurt just isn''t there quite as much."


    "Yeah," Ren murmured. "I feel bad when it doesn''t hurt so much. But I know Ashley wouldn''t want me to be hurting. He probably would''ve tried to find some way to take that pain away."


    Ferris nodded. "He absolutely would''ve tried to find some way to take the hurt away. He''d probably be making us laugh right about now."


    "He really would''ve been."


    Ren could almost imagine Ashley goofing off in front of the tv, making them and Ferris cry with laughter.


    Almost.


    Their heart cracked and splintered.


    "I''m going to go see if Charlie wants anything," Ren whispered. They exhaled slowly to ease the tightening snare around their heart.


    They could help Charlie. They could see if she wanted anything. It would give them something to do.


    "Hello, Charlie," Ren said as they gently pushed open her door. "What are you doing? Do you need anything?"


    "I''m working," Charlie muttered. "I''m pissed off at Beverley and Richmond, so I''m working. I''m going to prove to people that there ain''t anythin'' more to the whole Arkreon thing than just a slip of my stupid tongue. Got me into trouble, so now I have to get myself out of the trouble. Didn''t even mean anything by it, too."


    She slouched down in her chair as she sulked, arms crossed over her chest and a dark scowl on her face.


    "Would you like any help?" Ren offered.


    "Nah, I''m fine. Hyperfocus gets triggered easier on my own. And I''m on a bit of a roll here right now. Don''t wanna break that."


    "Wait, what are you working on, Charlie?"


    She tilted her head back to look at them. "I''m proving that Arkreon and the disease have literally nothing to do with each other. Figure it''s the best way to get Leviathan Inc. off my back. Goin'' through everything I can find on both the disease and Leviathan Inc. Currently readin'' through Ashley''s journal."


    "The Corville Medical Center is looking at that."


    "I don''t care. I''m reading about it. They''ve got all their fancy tools and stuff, but I''ve got my inability to let something go. And I''m just... angry that people don''t know how to drop it. Maybe they just need another story. If I can get them talking about something else, ya know?"


    "I think so."


    xxxx


    The next day, Ren was out early. They cleared weeds growing around the dogs'' house, and then organized the gear and supplies for the dogs.


    Nothing was off about that¡ª Ren did it regularly. But what was odd was that not all was silent, save for the sounds of the Forest.


    Ren could hear footsteps. Soft sounds on the rocky dirt road, the sounds of skittering pebbles kicked away. Sounds that were coming from outside the camp.


    And that wasn''t normal.


    Ren quickly hung up a handful of leashes on the nearest hook without looking, then checked their messages to make sure there wasn''t any reasonable explanation like someone expecting a visitor. No messages were on their phone. They frowned. Who could possibly have walked all the way here?


    They peeked out of the doorway to the dogs'' house.


    A young person stood at the gate to the NYTE camp.


    Not Pyr Iskie or any poacher they had arrested before. This person looked far too young. Younger than Ren was, younger than anyone in NYTE by what appeared to be a few years. Although the way they carried themselves made them seem far younger¡ª hunched shoulders, body folding in on itself, hung head and wide eyes.


    Ren slipped out the door of the dogs'' house, sticking close to the wall. The courtyard would give them a much clearer view, but it would put them wide out in the open. Ren knew just how quickly a bullet could travel and how they would have no time to react.


    The young person didn''t appear to be armed, but that didn''t mean there wasn''t a gun or other weapon hidden away in their clothing.


    Ren sent a quick message to Charlie, telling her to return the back way, and then another to Ferris, Kristin, and Zip, alerting them to the young person''s presence but adding that they shouldn''t interfere unless absolutely necessary.


    "Hello?" The young person shouted, cupping their hands around their mouth. "Is anyone there? I''d-." Their voice cracked and lost all of its power. "I''d like to speak with you guys. I''m... I''m not armed."


    Ren knew they were taking a massive risk. One Charlie would undoubtedly call incredibly dumb and reckless in a heartbeat. But they still did it and walked out from behind the dogs'' house and into the courtyard, out into the open.


    "What is your name?" Ren asked, approaching slowly.


    The young person stiffened when they saw Ren, honey eyes widening.


    Scratches lined the pale skin of their arms and hands, and as Ren got closer, they could see how sharp the person''s cheekbones were and the redness of their eyes. A tear slipped down the person''s cheek, catching on the long strands of black hair sticking to their face. Ren filed the information away but kept their expression carefully blank.


    "What is your name?" Ren repeated.


    "S-. S-Sprague," the person whispered.


    "Sprague?" Ren echoed, stopping a few feet from the gate separating the NYTE camp from the rest of Silverlight Forest.


    "Yeah, Sprague... Sprague Fetch." Their breath caught in their throat, voice turning into a whine by the end of the sentence. They couldn''t even look at Ren, and as they rocked on their feet, they slowly inched away.


    "What are your pronouns?" Ren asked. "I''d like to make sure I''m referring to you in the correct way. Mine are they, them, and theirs."


    Sprague hesitated, eyes widening. Their shoulders hunched up.


    Ren wondered what was going through Sprague''s head. No one at NYTE was expecting any visitors, so Sprague was likely there of their own choice, yet how they were acting hinted at an entirely different story. One Ren couldn''t piece together.


    Ren heard the door of the NYTE house open, followed by Ferris''s low voice murmuring something they couldn''t make out. No footsteps made their way down the stairs and into the courtyard.


    Good, Ren thought.


    "I... uh. Pronouns?"


    Ren nodded. "Yes, pronouns."


    "Um. I-I guess he and him. His, too?" Sprague shifted on his feet, hands curling around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest. His bottom lip quivered as a tear rolled down his cheek.


    "Thank you, Sprague," Ren said with a small smile. "What are you doing here?"


    "I..." Sprague''s voice cut off with another sharp whine, and agony flared in his eyes. He choked on a wet sob, body shaking. His chest heaved with his next breath.


    Ren furrowed their eyebrows. Normally, they''d be reading any intruder in Silverlight Forest for their next move¡ª if they were going to draw their weapon and shoot, where they would be heading next, where they would be targeting in their next attack.


    But Sprague''s expression and body language didn''t speak of any malice or bad intentions, leaving Ren confused. He just seemed to be in distress, and he slowly sank to the ground, forehead dropping to his knees as his arms bracketed his face. His sides shook as he tried to slow his ragged breathing. Several long minutes ticked by, and Ren waited for Sprague to break the silence that hung in Silverlight Forest, blanketing every surface. Not a sound could be heard. Even the birds had fallen quiet and ceased singing.


    "I needed to tell you something," Sprague finally whispered, voice breaking over his words. He lifted his head to gaze at Ren through watery eyes. His cheeks shone with slick tears.


    "Ok," Ren replied, unsure of exactly what they should say. They couldn''t read Sprague well enough to form any sort of guess as to what he might have been holding onto. But they would listen, and then go from there. Listen to what he had to say, and then make the best decision based on that.


    Silverlight Forest seemed to be holding its breath, and a breeze blew through, making Sprague flinch and rise a few inches off the ground before settling back down. The door at the NYTE house creaked ever so slightly, and Ren knew at least Ferris was in the entryway, but most likely he was there with Kristin and Zip as well.


    Sprague drew in a sharp breath, taking a moment to visibly steel himself. He stared at the ground, unable to meet Ren''s eyes. His shoulders were hunched forward, and his knees were pulled into his chest, arms around his shins.


    Ren braced themselves, readying their mind for whatever came next.


    "It was me," Sprague whimpered.


    "I''m the one who killed Ashley Baok."

 Prologue - Eidolon

    Prologue


    EIDOLON


    Felix Fisk knew he would need therapy for the rest of his life. Probably several times a week. Maybe every day. If he felt therapy might be helpful before witnessing Ashley Baok''s murder... well, he really should be going after the same people who murdered at least two captured him.


    His day had been going just fine.


    It had been.


    Chad Malcolm gave him a few weeks off, saying that he should take some time for himself and not worry about work or his job. He would continue getting the same paychecks he always got and that if he needed more time, to just send Chad an email and to take as long as he needed.


    The first few days had been just what Felix needed. He felt he could breathe. He had time to sit with what he had seen, and he ran through that night over and over, searching for clues he might have missed and cursing himself for the gaps in his memory where his brain refused to remember.


    But Felix had been steadily getting more and more frustrated.


    He went on walks to stretch his legs and make it feel like he had done something. He ordered to-go food from new restaurants and walked to new places in Corville. He tried to get his mind to think about something other than Ashley Baok''s murder.


    Everything he did, he did with Precinct officers tailing him. With him constantly looking around for cameras to stay within their view. With him having one finger on his phone to call Larson Hotch or Ryzor Oberhofer or someone from the Corville Precinct.


    And on this day, Felix had been walking to the Morning Jitters cafe. The streets were relatively empty, but he knew Precinct officers lurked somewhere around him, watching even if Felix couldn''t see them right then. Sometimes they were out of sight for him. A handful of people passed by and cars rumbled on the roads.


    He had been intending to get a coffee and take a leisurely stroll around the city and perhaps clear his head, but him pausing was what turned his day that maybe would really turn out to be alright into another nightmare.


    Felix Fisk stopped at a crosswalk, waiting until a few cars drove past so he could cross the street just one block from the Morning Jitters cafe.


    "Walk with me," someone said, voice like gravel, and Felix stumbled into motion, too caught off guard to do anything but follow. "You scream, Freya dies. Make a noise if you wish, I don''t really care, but know that all I have to do is hit send on my phone and your sister will be dead before she can even think to call for help. Do you really want to take that risk, Felix Fisk?"


    Felix''s breath caught in his throat, and when his legs started to freeze, the sharp kiss of a knife at his back forced him back into motion.


    Where were the Precinct officers? Where were they?


    "N-no," he choked out. "But Larson H-."


    "Larson, Asa, Azrael, and the Moonfall Precinct are none of your concern. Neither is Ryzor Oberhofer and the Corville Precinct. They think you are on your merry way to the Morning Jitters, and that is what they will continue to think. Funny what a doppelg?nger can do, right? It is in your best interest to walk with me and stay quiet."


    The person wrapped their arm around Felix''s waist when they reached the end of the block, the street completely empty of people, and they pulled him into the back of a van.


    Felix tumbled into the back of the van, the person slid into the driver''s seat, and they were off. The van had no windows, offering Felix no view as to where they were headed, and every too-sharp turn had him slamming into the sides of the vehicle. He didn''t know how long they drove, and he soon lost track of how many times they had turned, how long they spent going straight, which direction they were headed.


    Where are you, Precinct officers? I need you.


    xxxx


    Maybe the Trinity really would kill Felix.


    The thought scared him, although he was so familiar with the feeling that it might as well be his own shadow at this point.


    They had locked him in a building in an unknown location that Felix never saw the outside of and the interior offered no clues.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Felix kept his eyes closed as the Trinity came into the room he knelt against the wall of. He didn''t have to see them to know they still wore their masks.


    Maybe they would think he was asleep. Maybe they would leave him alone. He doubted they would fall for such a basic trick, but one could still hope, he supposed.


    Felix kept his head down and tracked the Trinity by sound across the room, a dirty space that he figured was probably a basement. An array of tools hung from the walls, gardening shears, a collection of screwdrivers, hedge trimmers, a wrench, a crowbar. Tools that in a normal person''s garage would seem relatively mundane, but that held a terrifying feeling when in the presence of the Trinity. Felix wondered how many of them had seen someone''s last moments, and he shuddered.


    A cool, icy feeling spread through his body for the thousandth time, and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.


    The Trinity hadn''t hurt him yet other than roughing him up every so often and asking questions he never answered, but that didn''t mean they wouldn''t take it further.


    They''d given him food and water, and Felix wondered what the hell they even wanted with him.


    Felix had seen them kill Ashley Baok, so what did they plan on doing to him? As much as he hated the thought, he could and would testify against them... so why hadn''t they killed him yet?


    Perhaps they had something far worse in mind for him. The thought terrified him.


    The figure in the peacock mask laughed, footsteps light on the concrete floor. The sound echoed in the room, anything but friendly. Felix cracked open his eyes a sliver.


    "They''re still looking for him. They just asked on the news for anyone with information to please come forward. Isn''t that so sweet?"


    The figure in the wolf mask nodded, offering a laugh in reply that was cold, predatory. "It''s so sweet. I wonder how long they''ll spend chasing their own tails before they realize what happened. How long do you think we have? Another week?"


    The figure in the sheep mask tracked a fly across the table in the center of the room, then stabbed it with a switchblade. Felix swallowed thickly at the sound and every muscle locked up as his breath caught in his throat, mouth thinning into a bloodless line. "Perhaps. Depends on how we play our cards. Even if we just sit here and twiddle our thumbs, I bet we''ve got at least another three days. Long enough to figure out what to do with him."


    The figure in the peacock mask sent a knife flying across the room, grazing the mane on the sheep''s mask. The blade sunk into the wall, where it stayed. "As I''ve told you a hundred times, we never do anything without a plan. We know what is happening with him. We knew what was happening with him long before we captured him. Now, follow along and don''t get caught."


    Footsteps sounded on the staircase that Felix couldn''t see but knew was there.


    A fourth person.


    The same person who led him away just a block away from the Morning Jitters cafe.


    For the first time, Felix got a look at them.


    Maybe he really would need therapy every day.


    Every hair stood on end at the sight of them, and his flesh crawled. He wanted to squirm. Every nerve tensed and fired, telling him something was wrong.


    The person''s papery skin seemed to be one light breeze from flaking off their bones, and their sharp features and dark circles beneath their eyes gave their face the appearance of a skull. Wispy hair sprouted at every angle in harsh, silvery locks. Their eyes were dark, distant, and cold enough that they looked possessed.


    Felix knew they would play the starring role in his nightmares, second only to that night in Silverlight Forest and Ashley Baok''s blank stare.


    "They still don''t think anyone''s surviving the infection," the person said. "But here I am!"


    The figure in the peacock mask took a step back, then asked: "And did you do what I told you to do?"


    "Did I do what-." The person narrowed their eyes, before their expression cleared. "Oh, yeah, totally. You''ve got nothing to worry about."


    The figure in the peacock mask cast a meaningful glance at the tools on the walls. "You know what will happen to those who don''t do what we say, right?"


    Felix Fisk closed his eyes and took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm his racing heart.


    Larson Hotch was surely searching for him, as was Freya. He knew his sister would never give up, and nor would Larson, if only because of who Felix was.


    Felix saw Ashley Baok''s murder. He was the witness. He held information no one else did.


    He just had to hold out hope that someone would find him. That Larson and Asa and Azrael and everyone else at the Precincts investigating the Trinity would piece together where he went.


    And if that wouldn''t happen, Felix would have to be his own hero. He knew he could count on Freya, his own flesh and blood, with a calculating gaze and a sharp mind to match that never missed a thing. But Freya wasn''t here, and so if Felix truly was on his own, he had to count on himself.


    He had to survive.


    He had to find a way to live, even if it was just out of spite. Whatever the way he made it out alive, he had to do it. Felix had to keep breathing, because he knew things no one else did. He knew things that only the Trinity did that could be used against them in court to send them to a jail cell forever.


    Felix had to be the only person he knew of who witnessed the Trinity commit a murder and later be captured by the same group and survive. He had to keep doing that; keep living, keep surviving each and every day, keep breathing.


    Felix had seen the Trinity in person, and currently he had lived to tell the tale. It didn''t matter that he had only ever seen them with their masks on. Wouldn''t that be helpful? Perhaps he had seen the one little detail that would crack the case wide open.


    Felix had to escape and do whatever it took to make the Trinity face justice, even if the only thing keeping him alive was spite and the knowledge that he could help bring justice for Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March.


    It was the least he could do after witnessing Ashley Baok''s murder and not being able to save him. It was the least he could do after being unable to stop the Trinity before they murdered Alaska Wendell March.


    To make the Trinity face justice, though, Felix Fisk had to live.


    Therapy could come later, but first, Felix Fisk had to survive and escape.

 Eidolon - Chapter 1 - Kristin Baok - How Can I Not?

    Chapter 1


    KRISTIN BAOK


    Kristin Baok didn''t think he was breathing.


    His body buzzed and tingled, every nerve simultaneously numb and burning like a live wire.


    It was me. I''m the one who killed Ashley Baok.


    Sprague''s words bounced around in his skull like a ricocheting bullet.


    Kristin had dreamed of this moment, of hearing someone''s confession, and in every possibility, it never involved someone coming to them. Every possibility took place with Larson there or Asa or Azrael or someone from one of the Precincts there. Every time he dreamed of the confession, it took place after an interrogation. A cat and mouse game. With an arrest shortly thereafter broadcasted to the world. With piecing together the clues in a real-life version of those crime shows he used to watch in his free time but never again because he now lived it. Kristin never thought he would hear the confession with someone sniffling through tears.


    But if that''s what it took.


    If someone wanted to cry their way through the whole thing, Kristin didn''t care. He just wanted someone to come forward, say it was them, and give him answers as to why he no longer had his brother. He wanted to know what sick reasoning someone used to justify taking his brother from the world. He wanted Ashley to have a chance to rest a little easier.


    "Kristin?" Zip tugged on his sleeve, and he flinched, wrenched back to reality like someone ripped a bandage off his skin.


    "Yeah?" His voice sounded so distant, like it came from miles away. Kristin sucked in a breath of air, and it grated his throat and felt like he was breathing through a straw.


    "You... a-are you ok?"


    Kristin shrugged, eyes staring straight through the door to where he knew Sprague still sat. To where he knew someone who had just confessed to Ashley''s murder sat.


    "We... we should see what''s happening."


    Robotically, Kristin reached for the door handle, but Ferris blocked his path and a pang of betrayal shot through Kristin''s gut. How could Ferris do such a thing? How could Ferris stand there and block him from getting answers?


    "Please," Kristin whispered. "Move. I need to talk to him."


    "I don''t know what''s happening," Ferris said. "But I know we can''t rush out there. At least not like this."


    "Why are you defending someone who just said he murdered Ashley?"


    Ferris shook his head. "I''m not. I assure you I am not. I want to make sure that we get all the answers. I know you want to ask him, but I don''t think he''s going to reply. Or at least not how you want."


    Anger flared in Kristin''s gut. "But we have to at least try, Ferris. Ashley deserves that, doesn''t he? I have to know. I need to know what happened, and he''s right there. He''s so close. He''s right out there." He jabbed a finger out toward the courtyard where he knew Sprague sat.


    "Ashley deserves answers, of course. I''m not arguing otherwise in the slightest. He deserves answers and the truth coming to light. But you heard Sprague, didn''t you? I don''t know what''s going on, but it''s not black and white, as convenient as that would be."


    Kristin bit back a growl. "He said he killed Ashley, didn''t he? How can it not be black and white? You heard what he said! He killed Ashley. He killed my brother."


    Kristin tried to push toward the door again, and Ferris again refused to move. Tears stung in Kristin''s eyes as his friend yet again kept him from the person who had just confessed. He wanted to push and shove his way through, but he also couldn''t hurt Ferris.


    "K-Kristin." Zip pulled him back by the hem of his shirt, and Kristin followed.


    "What?" He hated how harsh his voice was, but frustration burned within him. He clenched his hands into fists.


    "The... the Trinity is-is three. Sprague''s... one."


    "And?"


    "Doesn''t..." Zip trailed off and dropped his gaze to his feet.


    "Spit it out, Zip. Don''t care what it is. Tell me why I shouldn''t go out there so Sprague can share everything that happened."


    "Why... why would-. Can''t you s-see... nothing the Trinity has done to... to this point has been admitting to their crimes. It''s weird. I-I want... to talk to Sprague, but this doesn''t make... it doesn''t make sense."


    Kristin glared at the wall over Zip''s head. His body trembled, and he curled his fingers into fists to keep his hands from shaking. He forced himself to take a breath, and he can feel the weight of Ferris and Zip''s eyes on him, watching, waiting, observing like he was some fragile bird about to break.


    Somehow he still felt Ashley beside him. He knew what his brother would say. Ashley would''ve forgiven the Trinity in a heartbeat, even knowing how it ended. He wouldn''t have wanted Kristin to hold onto the hate.


    But how could he not?


    How can I not hate them, Ashley? They took you from me.


    "Well, do you want me to just let Sprague go? Do you want me to say ''thank you'' for him admitting he murdered my brother? Do you want me to shake his hand and tell him he''s free to go?"


    Ferris somehow managed to keep his expression soft, and that made Kristin want to scream and shove him because how could Ferris stay so calm?


    "No, absolutely not," Ferris said. "And I''m sure Ren knows to keep Sprague here, through whatever means they have to. If Sprague is responsible, he will be held accountable. Full stop. I have no intentions of stopping until we know exactly what happened to Ashley and everyone involved is held accountable to the full extent of the law."


    "I wish the law wasn''t so rigid."


    Ferris tightened his grip on the door handle, and he stared down at the back of his hand. "I wish that too, but it exists for a reason. We can''t become what we want to stop, even if sometimes that would make things easier."


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Why can''t just this once, just this one time, we bend the rules to catch them and figure out what happened?" Kristin knew in his heart why, and he knew Ashley would be so furious and upset. But he also didn''t care. He just wanted answers.


    The corner of Ferris''s mouth pulled up into a hint of a sad smile. "Because it wouldn''t take a whole lot for just this once to turn into again and then again and so on. And stepping outside the law would leave lots of room for the Trinity to walk free. I know you don''t want to take that risk, Kristin."


    "What are we doin'' walkin'' outside the law?"


    Kristin whirled around and saw Charlie.


    "Hey, Springs," Ferris said. His expression lightened and he offered a much more genuine smile.


    "''Yello," she replied, and she held up her phone and gave it a wave. "I got Ren''s message. They said to come around back. What''s goin'' on?"


    Ferris glanced at Kristin, a question in his eyes. Do you want to tell her, or should I?


    Kristin spoke. "Ren is in the courtyard with someone who just confessed to Ashley''s murder."


    He held Charlie''s gaze as he spoke, and his voice was low, like it dragged across gravel and every word caught on yet another sharp edge. His stitched-up heart tore open for the millionth time. Hurt and hate and heartbreak spilled in his chest like a gushing wound.


    Kristin watched as surprise bloomed on Charlie''s face. Her eyebrows rose, and then her expression darkened like a looming storm cloud.


    "This someone is out in the courtyard?"


    Zip ducked his head in response. "Yeah."


    Charlie huffed, then walked toward the front door in long strides, eyes flashing and shoulders straightening as her steps turned heavy, slamming on the ground like punctuation. Kristin followed her. Perhaps this would finally be it after so long waiting.


    "Wait," Ferris said, and she hesitated.


    "Why?" Kristin turned around. "Why do we keep having to not talk to the one person who has literally just said he killed Ashley. Sprague Fetch just confessed."


    "We gotta talk to him, Dipper. Ain''t got no idea who Sprague Fetch is beyond this, but we gotta talk to him."


    "I want to get Ashley''s killers. I really, really do. I promise you." Ferris ran his hands through his hair. "I see Ashley everywhere, and it''s just like when I lost my fathers. I couldn''t to anything then, and I looked over everything again and again and again. But I don''t want that to happen here. I couldn''t take it if we were left wondering, and Ashley deserves justice. I don''t know what happened, but he never deserved that and the one thing we can still offer him is justice and answers and knowing what happened and who... who-. Who took him away like... that. If it doesn''t go right though... I couldn''t forgive myself. It can''t go wrong like it did with my fathers. I know the situations are so different. That was an accident, and this was murder, but it can''t happen again." He took a shaky breath and paced back and forth, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I know we only have one shot with Sprague, and it has to be the right course of action and I don''t know what that is. I''m not trying to be difficult, I swear. I want to know what happened."


    "Yeah, yeah, Dipper. No worries. I won''t rush out there, I''ll walk. How about that?" Charlie wrapped an arm around his waist and patted his back.


    "That''s... that''s not what I was talking about."


    Charlie leaned into Ferris''s side further. "I know, but I feel like you gotta know there is no universe in which we don''t talk to Sprague. I will fight all of the Precincts bare-handed if I have to, because I am talking to him. I bet Kristin feels the same way."


    "It has to be done ri-."


    "I know, Dipper. I know. Let''s call the Moonfall Precinct and then they''ll drive on over here, and we can have ourselves a nice little chat with him in the meantime. How about that? Everyone happy?"


    Ferris closed his eyes, still standing directly in front of the door.


    You''d better let me through, Ferris. I can''t not talk to Sprague. I have to know what happened to Ashley. He deserves answers. You can think and I won''t rush you to decisions, but I can''t let you keep me from answers. We''re close, for once. I have hope that maybe we''re close.


    "I just don''t want to ruin this chance."


    "We won''t," Kristin rushed out.


    "Nah, ain''t no way we''re gonna lose a chance to find out what happened to Ashley. Best thing would be to get him back, but since that can''t happen and he''d be pissed if we did bring him back, we can get him some justice and lock up whoever decided to take away his life forever and ever and let them rot in a cell for all of eternity."


    "What she said," Zip murmured, fiddling with his fingers.


    "Alright," Ferris whispered.


    xxxx


    Whatever image Kristin had in his head as to what one of the Trinity might look like, Sprague Fetch was decidedly not that. He didn''t know what he thought the Trinity might look like, but Sprague didn''t look like one from the trio of murderers. Or, at least he didn''t look like the mugshot of the killers in the crime shows he used to watch with Ferris. Hollow eyes, a cruel whisper of a smile, predatory features.


    As Kristin walked out of the NYTE house and into the courtyard of the camp, he could see Ren standing with their back to him at the gate and Sprague on the other side. He crouched close to the ground, curled up with his arms wrapped tight around his legs. His honey eyes stared through the soil. And as Kristin approached, he thought Sprague looked more like a kid than anything. Skinny, tired, stringy black hair sticking to his tear-stained cheeks.


    But looks didn''t matter. Sprague Fetch had confessed to Ashley''s murder, and anyone could be a killer.


    Kristin knew he had never seen Sprague before. Cat''s Cradle required that sort of memory. He and Ashley saw many of the same people since they had spent so much time together, sometimes spending every second of every day little more than a few feet from the other. But who was to say that Ashley hadn''t seen Sprague?


    Could Sprague truly have taken Ashley''s life? Kristin hated the thought that he stood before the person who had seen Ashley''s last moments, and that person sat on the ground, face buried in his armlike he couldn''t bear the weight of what he had done. Didn''t Sprague know what Ashley''s death had done to Kristin? Ashley no longer had his life, and Kristin no longer had his brother. Couldn''t Sprague have thought of what murdering another would do to himself and have changed his mind?


    "Why did you do it?" Kristin demanded.


    Sprague inhaled sharply, body freezing and locking up.


    Kristin could hear every heartbeat pound in his chest, and blood roared in his ears. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, looking out over a sea of clouds far below as wind howled all around him and pummeled him from every angle. He was so close to answers, everything he now wanted. He wanted to hear Sprague''s reply, but he knew it would change everything. He knew it could destroy him, but he had to hear.


    Tears welled up in Sprague''s eyes. Tears that Kristin couldn''t understand. Sprague had confessed to Ashley''s murder. Why was he crying over that? He didn''t get to cry, not after he took away Ashley.


    Kristin could cry. Charlie could cry. Zip could cry. Ren could cry, and so could Ferris. But Sprague didn''t get to cry.


    "Why?" Kristin repeated, voice firm. Charlie bumped her shoulder into Kristin''s arm.


    Easy, she silently told him. Kristin put his hands in his pockets and tightened his hands into fists to give his frustration an outlet.


    "Why?" he repeated yet again when Sprague didn''t reply.


    Sprague sniffled and his lip quivered. He settled on the ground, hands on his knees as he pulled his legs to his chest and buried his face in his arms.


    "I didn''t have any other choice," he whimpered. "There was no other way."


    Rage burned in Kristin''s veins, broiling and bubbling. His ears rung and the edges of his vision blurred.


    He hadn''t realized he''d taken a step forward until he felt Ferris''s hand on the back of his shirt and Zip''s light touch on his forearm. In front of him, Ren had taken a step to the side to stand between him and Sprague.


    "What are you doing?" Kristin asked Ren. They stood between him and the person who had said he''d killed Ashley. He made a half-hearted attempt to break free from Zip and Ferris, but he knew beating up Sprague wasn''t right. Ashley would''ve been angry with him, and he would get no satisfaction from doing so. Kristin wouldn''t get his brother back, and Sprague just looked hunted.


    Sprague looked exhausted down to his bones, and the circles beneath his eyes looked like bruises.


    "I don''t know what''s going on here," Ren said, "but I know we need to get Larson and the Moonfall Precinct here."


    "No!" Sprague cried, and he shrunk back when all eyes turned onto him.


    "And why the hell not?" Charlie asked before Kristin could. She took a step forward, raising an eyebrow.


    Frustration reared its head in Kristin''s chest, all fangs and tattered scales worn thin from the waiting, the wondering, the pleading.


    Sprague swallowed, and Kristin had to hold himself back from demanding an answer. Several moments ticked by in slow motion before Sprague responded. When he did, his voice was high, tight, trembling like a leaf in the wind.


    "Because they''ll come for us all."

 Eidolon - Chapter 2 - Cynthia Corville - A Rumor from Cloverleaf

    Chapter 2


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Among the things that Cynthia Corville did not need was the Trinity striking again.


    Larson Hotch had called her from his office in Moonfall.


    I would''ve made the drive, he had said, but dealing with all of the protocols for the disease takes time, and that is something we do not have. We needed to have found Felix last week. And I know he hasn''t been missing that long, but my point stands. He needs to be found.


    He had filled her in on what they knew of Felix Fisk''s capture, which wasn''t much. And as he spoke, Cynthia felt her stomach sink further and further and further into the ground.


    No one knew if Felix was still alive, although the Precincts had some measure of hope since his body had not been found, at least as of yet.


    Cynthia had been grateful for the telephone at that moment in time. No one else was in the President''s Room as she closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. No one witnessed how her lip quivered and her skin prickled with an icy cold and she shivered. No one would know as she let herself feel the stress for just a moment.


    No one saw as she pieced herself back together because a President could never crack or break.


    "Well," she started slowly, "no body means he might still be alive."


    "True," Larson said. "No body found yet is different from what we know. Ashley Baok''s body was found within a few hours, and Alaska Wendell March''s body was found even sooner. If Felix Fisk is still alive, he has lived longer than anyone we know of who was taken by the Trinity."


    Cynthia didn''t want to hope for another body, because then another life had been lost. But hoping for Felix to still be alive in the clutches of a group capable of such horrific crimes didn''t feel quite right.


    I just want him to be found, she thought.


    Felix knew the most out of anyone about the Trinity. Cynthia could understand in some twisted way the why, the motivation that the Trinity would target him. Felix was the witness to Ashley Baok''s murder. He had seen it, even if he hadn''t seen the Trinity''s faces. He had survived seeing the Trinity, and he held more information than most...


    And yet the Trinity managed to get to him.


    Larson described how Felix had been walking to the Morning Jitters cafe in Corville, the same cafe Cynthia had visited several times to speak with citizens of Waverwell and hear what they had to say and what they wanted for their country.


    "He was going to get a coffee or something at the Morning Jitters, and the Trinity got to him," Larson grumbled, voice slightly garbled through the speaker. Cynthia could almost hear him running a hand through his hair, body tense with stress that she could feel too. Larson continued: "I''ve been working with other detectives and officers, and we can track Felix on cameras up until he''s one block from Morning Jitters and then we lose him. They got him one block from where he was going and I don''t know how they did it or where they took him." Larson sighed. "I''m sorry for ranting. This isn''t what I meant to do. I meant to be far more professional. I apologize."


    Cynthia shook her head, although Larson couldn''t see the movement. "No, no. No need to apologize, Larson. I can only imagine the stress, and this is an absolutely horrible situation. Whatever you need is yours¡ª just ask and I will make sure you get it. Felix has a sibling, correct?"


    "Yes. Felix has a sister. Her name is Freya."


    "How is Freya doing?"


    Larson paused for a moment. "She hasn''t left the Moonfall Precinct in over twenty-four hours. I have an officer trying to get her to go home and eat something and get a change of clothes. I don''t blame her for this though; I''d be the same way if I had a sibling missing, much less in this way where there''s a..." He trailed off and when he continued, his voice was much softer. "I''d be lying if I said I knew Felix was alive. I mean... Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March were both most likely killed within a few hours of when they were abducted, and their bodies were found the following day. We''re past that time and Felix''s body hasn''t been found, but that doesn''t mean he''s still alive. I hope with everything in me that we can find him alive, but I can''t say that. Freya knows what the Trinity being Felix''s abductors means even though I haven''t told her much."


    Cynthia shook her head. She knew what that meant too, and it didn''t help Felix in the slightest.


    Please just let Felix be found soon and let him survive this, Cynthia asked anyone who might be listening. He doesn''t deserve what has happened to him.


    Cynthia plucked her official President of Waverwell pen from its holder, twirling it between her fingers. She cast a glance at the melting clock on the corner of her desk. Lunchtime was nearing.


    "I hope the next time we meet it will be with better news," Cynthia murmured.


    Larson huffed a chuckle that dripped with exhaustion. "I hope so too. I have barely slept since Ashley Baok''s body was found. It''s been a whirlwind of hunting down every scrap of information I possibly can. But however bad it is for me, Ashley''s friends and family have it so much worse. Same with Alaska Wendell March and now Felix Fisk. They''re missing a loved one, and I''m missing a citizen I care about but do not personally know. There''s a difference. But I signed up to track down those who break the law and hold them accountable. The Trinity will be caught, and we will find out exactly what happened."


    "Please don''t take this as I do not want the Trinity caught," Cynthia said, "but make sure you are getting enough sleep."


    "I know, I know. I''m trying. I can''t catch murderers if I pass out from exhaustion."


    "Very true," Cynthia replied. "Is there anything I can get you? Is there anything I can do on my end to assist?"


    There was a pause as Larson thought. "What would be the very best is for the Trinity to slip up. They know we''re tracking them and I''m sure they''re feeling the pressure, but if they can just make one mistake I think we''ll get a lot of information. I feel like we''re one clue away from being able to catch them. I just hope it will be soon enough for Felix if he''s still alive."


    Cynthia sucked on her teeth as she shook her head. "I would do so without hesitation if it were in my power to do so."


    "I know you would."


    A somber silence hung in the air, thick and heavy.


    "I''m assuming you have heard that Pyr Iskie escaped the Moonfall Prison again?"


    Larson''s question was rhetorical. Cynthia had seen the email Gabriella sent her that told her as much, and she would know of something like that, even if capturing an escaped prisoner fell to the Precincts to do.


    "Yes, I have heard of that." Cynthia pulled her phone closer, gently tugging on the cord, as the clock struck noon. "Do you know what happened? Am I correct to guess that you have not yet found him, considering I haven''t received an update?" She kept her voice neutral to avoid judgement.


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    "We know the security cameras all went dark, and by the time they came back online, Pyr Iskie was gone. He clearly didn''t want to hide his escape and delay guards from finding out that something was wrong. Sedge Valentine is taking the lead position on this investigation, and I am continuing to work alongside Asa and Azrael Smith. He will know every detail, but no, Pyr Iskie has not yet been found. He will be, but... we don''t know where he is. The last time he escaped, a prison guard all but walked him out the front gates of the prison. I''d have to double check with Sedge, but I believe either all or almost all of the guards have been cleared. If there are any who haven''t, Sedge and those investigating are actively working on clearing them. Something was done differently."


    Cynthia heard the scratch of a pen on paper through the speaker as Larson wrote something down. A car honking on the street below cut through the low drone of the bustling roads of Corville. Footsteps clicked down the hallway but no one knocked on the door to the President''s Room.


    "What can the public know?" Cynthia asked. "What can we tell them about the Trinity and them abducting Felix Fisk? What do they need to know? The same with Pyr Iskie."


    Larson remained quiet for several long moments. "I can answer Pyr Iskie easier," he started. "He''s dangerous, but his crimes are in the realm of wildlife offenses. The public should obviously be aware and I know the media has picked this story up, but I don''t think we need to take any drastic action. That of course could change, and any necessary actions will be taken. I do have an officer notifying the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit and I do have a few officers patrolling the Forest since he has a history of poaching. As for the Trinity and Felix Fisk... that one is hard. There''s a line with the public knowing enough so they can make the appropriate decisions, while also not giving so much that panic is created and there are more problems than we started with. Some things don''t need to be known for people to understand what happened, and the victims deserve their dignity. And, of course, we want to make sure our case against those responsible cannot be broken."


    "What do I need to do? Should I be making any public statements?"


    "Sedge will be holding a press conference about Pyr''s escape later today." Larson paused. "Not right now. I want the public looking at us, no offense to you, of course."


    "None taken." Cynthia wanted the public looking to the Moonfall Precincts as well. They were the ones who had the ability to act far more than she did. All Cynthia could do was move resources around, not actually solve the crime.


    "I will keep you updated. I don''t think I have to remind you that if you get anything that could possibly be helpful to please send it my way. None of us will care how small it may seem."


    "If I hear anything I will let you know."


    Cynthia and Larson bid each other goodbye.


    The second Larson hung up the phone, Cynthia deflated like a popped balloon, leaned back in her chair, and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and placed her hands on her stomach, feeling how her belly rose and fell with each breath.


    I don''t know what''s going on here, she thought, exhaling slowly. But I will figure it all out. I''m not alone. I have Charlotte with me. Gabriella, too, and the rest of Waverwell government. And I have Larson and Danzig and support from people all around Waverwell who voted for me. I''m not alone and never will be.


    xxxx


    Lunch started off quiet, a bit of peace from the usual hustle and bustle that had Cynthia pulled in opposite directions all day every day.


    She had sat down in the corner of the dining room in the Waverwell government building, and a waiter immediately rushed over to her table from where they had been scrolling on their phone. The dining room was almost empty, and Cynthia only saw one other person eating.


    "Hello, Mrs. President Corville," the waiter said as they poured her a glass of water. "What may I get started for you?"


    "Surprise me," she replied, too tired to care. Food was all she wanted and she didn''t care what. "Please," she added on.


    A flash of surprise crossed the waiter''s face before they nodded. "Would you like me to offer some options?"


    That sounded exhausting listening to the options. Cynthia just wanted a meal to reset herself so she could dive back into work for the rest of the afternoon. So much to do and only so many hours in a day.


    "No," Cynthia replied, plastering an impression of a warm smile on her face. "Please just pick something and surprise me."


    The waiter hesitated, and Cynthia internally sighed. She would have to offer something.


    "Whatever is fastest, please."


    They paused. "Alright. How about a salad?"


    "That sounds lovely. I will have that, please."


    "I will bring it right out."


    "Thank you."


    A few minutes later, the waiter brought out a salad. Chicken and avocado lined the edge of the plate in neat arrangements that Cynthia would''ve appreciated at a different time, but right now she was just happy for food.


    She picked at it, alternating between bites of carrots and peppers and lettuce.


    "Hello, Mrs. President Corville."


    Cynthia looked up to see Danzig Sterling sitting down across from her. She had eaten almost half of her salad.


    They pushed their glasses up on their nose with a knuckle as they looked at their notebook and flipped to another page. Danzig wore a face mask, and as they moved, their glasses shifted on it and fogged up with each breath.


    "Dr. Sterling," Cynthia greeted, starting to hold out a hand out of habit but holding herself back. Not with the disease. But Danzig didn''t seem to notice, or at least didn''t acknowledge it. "To what do I owe this pleasure? And please, Cynthia. Mrs. President Corville is awfully formal."


    "Call me Danzig. I was going to call and schedule an appointment, but I was already near here so I figured this would be easier. I need to speak with you. Something... strange has come up."


    So much for a recharging lunch.


    But being President meant getting going whenever something came up. Danzig needed to speak with her, and so lunch could wait. She could always get another salad.


    "Of course," Cynthia replied, standing up and pushing her chair in. "Would you like me to get the rest of the officials, or just me?"


    Danzig tilted their head to the side. "Just you would be faster."


    "Very well. Where would you like to meet? I can have a meeting room cleaned and ready within about fifteen or twenty minutes to the current Corville Medical Center protocols, or we can meet in the President''s Room. It hasn''t been cleaned, although it can be, and has only been me in there today."


    "Your room will be fine. The ventilation system is the same throughout the building, right?"


    "Yes, it''s the same. I couldn''t tell you the exact system off the top of my head, but it''s been upgraded since the disease was discovered. I can get that information if you would like?"


    Danzig waved a hand. "No, it''s fine. Let''s meet in your room. I''d like to get back to the Corville Medical Center soon, though, to keep working. Every second there is another second closer to figuring out everything about the disease, including how to treat it. But I did want to check in today."


    "Very well. Shall we go?" Cynthia started off but paused when Danzig didn''t follow. She turned around.


    Danzig gestured to her plate. "Did you want to take your salad with you?"


    "No," Cynthia said, "it''s alright. I can eat later."


    "I don''t mind. Food is good for you. Take it from a doctor."


    "I can eat later. I''d like to fully dedicate my attention to whatever it is you would like to discuss so I can process it all and make the appropriate decisions."


    "Very well. Lead the way. I will follow you." Danzig ducked their head and gestured a hand toward the exit of the dining room.


    The trip back to the President''s Room was quiet. Neither Cynthia nor Danzig offered much conversation, though Cynthia found the silence comfortable. Both were busy and had lots on their mind, and the quiet served as a way to prepare. Danzig scribbled away in their notebook, turning between pages, scratching marks here and there.


    When they reached the President''s Room, Cynthia held the door for Danzig, who stepped through and gave a soft thanks. They tucked their notebook into a pocket.


    "So what did you wish to talk about?" Cynthia asked as she walked around, back to the windows, to stand on her side of her desk. "Am I correct to assume that this is regarding the disease?"


    Danzig sat down in the chair opposite Cynthia, twirling their pen. "Yes," they replied. "I am here about the disease."


    "What would you like to discuss? I am all ears," Cynthia said. She pulled out a pad of paper to take notes on. "And if you need more funding, just give me a number and it''s yours. Money or resources will not be the reason this disease is not brought under control and costs more lives."


    Danzig shook their head. "No, no, it''s not that. We have plenty of money, and I''m well aware that we can have access to whatever we need. I have two things I wanted to talk about."


    Cynthia wrote the date on the corner of the page.


    "Firstly," Danzig started, "some general information. I think it will come as no surprise to you ¡ªbut still a disappointing fact¡ª that the deaths are still rising. We still don''t have a cure. It''s not good. There''s no other way to look at it. However, we are making progress. It''s slow and I wish it was faster, but medicine doesn''t always move quickly. Slow and steady wins the race, I guess you could say, even when it would be wonderful if fast and steady could do just as good a job."


    Cynthia nodded. "Indeed it would be lovely if medicine could move quicker. But it''s better to do it right the first time and make sure all necessary testing is done right."


    "Very true. Measure twice, cut once," Danzig said before continuing: "Secondly... I can''t think of a great way to say this, so I''ll just say it. No one has survived the disease thus far, but I heard this rumor from Cloverleaf that there''s someone who has. Supposedly someone who works in the mines contracted the disease and lived."

 Eidolon - Chapter 3 - Chad Malcolm - Memories of a First Dance

    Chapter 3


    CHAD MALCOLM


    Chad Malcolm''s day could improve. Dramatically.


    He stared at his computer screen and the graphs and boxes and little flashing icons and resisted the urge to sulk and glare like a petulant child. A bad attitude would fix nothing.


    More employees had left Leviathan Inc. Some cited that they just didn''t want to be a part of a company with such terrible claims against it. Others stated that they didn''t want to work at a company with so much uncertainty. And more still said that they didn''t want to have so much chaos and drama at their workplace.


    Leviathan Inc. used to employ nearly ninety thousand people, almost a fifth of Waverwell''s five hundred thousand citizens. But Chad knew the number of their employees had fallen dramatically. He didn''t want to know the number now.


    But many stated that they would not go anywhere.


    Those were the ones Chad wanted on his team. Those were the ones Chad wanted working at his company. Those were the ones who would keep the serpent alive until the leviathan could be rebuilt once more.


    xxxx


    As Chad walked by the reception desk in the lobby of Leviathan Inc. on his way back from getting a coffee for himself and Darcy, he saw someone new in the chair. Not Freya''s usual flowery blouses and frizzy hair pulled up into loose styles and bright stickers decorating her name tag. This new person struck Chad as just... muted. Freya''s opposite in every way. No warmth radiating from the front desk and into the rest of the building. No professional smile that also seemed so genuine.


    But Chad could never fault Freya for not being there.


    Felix had seen something horrific, and now he was missing, taken by the same people he had witnessed commit a horrible act against another.


    Work should be the last thing on Freya''s mind. She should be focusing on helping to find her brother.


    It didn''t feel quite right for Chad to say he was glad Freya left, but if she had stayed, Chad would have given her the same offer he had Felix¡ª as much paid time off as she wished, no strings attached, take all the time she need and come back whenever she felt she was ready, however long it may be. It was the least Chad could do.


    The new person working reception wore a green top that matched the color of Leviathan Inc.''s serpent logo far closer than Chad thought possible. They wore patchy makeup, like they hadn''t quite known how to apply it, and their hair appeared to have been cut unevenly. Their gaze remained focused on their computer screen, and they chewed on the end of a pen as Chad approached.


    "Hello," they greeted. "How may I help you today?"


    "Hello," Chad replied, adjusting his grip on the two coffees he held. "I am Chad Malcolm."


    They paused. "I-I-. Uh, my apologies. I didn''t recognize you."


    Chad gave a professional smile. "Apology accepted. I happened to be passing by and wanted to see how things are going."


    "They are going smoothly."


    "I''m glad to hear it."


    "Whatever happened to the woman here before me?"


    Chad held back a frown of confusion. He was somewhat surprised they asked, but he also wasn''t going to offer up personal information. "She is taking a leave right now."


    "Aww, that sucks. Hope everything''s fine." The new receptionist wrinkled their nose, and the makeup cracked, revealing a red line that trailed down their cheek.


    "As do I," Chad murmured. "Have a nice rest of your day."


    "You, too, Mr. Malcolm. I''m here if you need anything."


    Chad bid them farewell and walked over to the elevators, pushing the up button with his pinky. An employee moved to the side to make room as he got on, and they exchanged nods of acknowledgement and a brief smile. Neither spoke. The employee got off after a few floors, and Chad rode the rest of the way up before making his way down the hallway. He adjusted the coffee cups in his hands before opening the door.


    As he walked back into the office he shared with his wife, he saw Darcy sitting at her desk. She shook her head when Chad set down one of the coffees. Chad started to pull it back, but she grabbed it from his hand.


    "No," Darcy grumbled, typing away one-handed as she took a long sip. "I want it."


    Instead of her usual gentle waves, Darcy''s hair fell in uneven locks. She glared at her computer screen, chin in her hand. When she glanced up, a finger smeared the edge of her lipstick, and it looked like blood. Chad had never seen her like this before. He tilted his head to the side.


    "Is something wrong, honey?"


    "No."


    "Are you sure? I can help. Or I can call for someone else, if you''d prefer."


    "Yes, there''s something wrong!" Darcy spun in her chair to face him. She scoffed. "Of course something is wrong!"


    Chad held his wife''s gaze for a moment. "Is it everything on the news?"


    She didn''t reply at first, and the sinking feeling in his stomach told him he was right.


    Darcy curled her fingers into fists, glowering as she looked away. "Yes. I thought we were past this. I mean, none of this was supposed to happen. Switching over to running Leviathan Inc. entirely on Arkreon was supposed to go smoothly. We had a plan."


    "Charlie Springs wasn''t supposed to happen either."


    "I''ll drink to that. What was she even thinking?"


    "I''m not sure she was," Chad murmured in reply. "Perhaps she just got jealous of us. Maybe she thought she could hop onto the back of everything with the whistleblower? I mean, she''s gotta know that Arkreon is safe, right? We''ve got all those reports from the testing phase as proof."


    Darcy just put her elbow on her desk and her forehead on her fingers as she sighed.


    "We will make them stop, alright? You hear me, honey?" Chad gently tugged on the back of Darcy''s chair until she turned around. He pulled her to her feet and placed a hand on her cheek, wiping away the smudge of lipstick. "We''re going to make them listen. We know what we did and what we didn''t do. They can never take that away from us. The serpent never dies. All we have to do is cut out the rotting parts and rebuild."


    Darcy stared out over Chad''s shoulder with a neutral expression for a handful of seconds before she met his gaze and her face lifted into a soft smile, one that reminded him of her demeanor on their wedding day.


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    "Chad, honey," Darcy murmured, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, hands on the back of his neck and curling into the locks of hair at his nape.


    "Yes?" Chad gazed down into her eyes, staring into the depths of her irises.


    With his hands on her sides, their pose took him back to their first dance at their wedding. The night that seemed to stretch into infinity, just the two of them after they confessed their eternal love for each other. The night of sparkling sequins and luxury fabrics, flashing cameras and bubbling champagne, arrays of flowers and golden lights, delicate finger foods and the intricate cake topped with miniatures of Mr. and Mrs. Chad and Darcy Malcolm, and, of course, his breathtaking wife in her showstopper gown with whom he now got to share his forever.


    Darcy leaned in close and pressed a kiss to his lips, nails trailing across his skin in burning lines of fire.


    "We need to stay strong," she whispered against his mouth.


    Chad kissed her again before replying.


    "Of course," he said, running a knuckle down her cheek and gazing into her eyes that drew him in until he could never look away. "Of course. We''re going to change the world. A leviathan will never die. What do you need?"


    Darcy smiled, lips pulling up into the same curve they had when she stood across from him at the altar. Her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders as she pulled back a fraction of an inch.


    "I don''t need very much."


    "Why only ask for a little when you can ask for a lot and bargain down to more than you need? No one has to know exactly what you need when there''s always a way to end up with more. Tell me what you need, darling, and it shall be yours."


    "True," Darcy murmured, light from their office turning the chain of rubies around her neck to glistening blood. "You can always get more. But in this case all I need from you is to show the world who Leviathan Inc. is, alright?"


    Chad ran a finger across the chain. It was one of the best purchases he had ever made. He held her gaze as he spoke. "I''ll make sure they know," he vowed. "The whole world will hear it."


    "Very good." Darcy ran a nail across his jaw and moved to press a kiss to the side of his throat, nipping at his pulse point. When she spoke, the cool air sent shivers across Chad''s skin and he tightened his grip on her waist. "Very good," she repeated.


    Darcy''s phone buzzed behind her on her desk, and she pulled away abruptly, turning around and flipping it over to glance at the screen. "I have to go. I''ll message you about dinner later."


    She grabbed her jacket from the coatrack and left.


    Chad blinked and then shook his head as the door slammed shut. He looked first at the emptiness of Darcy''s desk, then to where she used to stand in front of him, and then to where she had exited the room.


    She was right here. What happened to our moment?


    Chad stood still for a minute, and then turned around and walked over to the couches in the middle of the office. He hunched over, forearms on his knees and eyebrows furrowed. He supposed that since he felt so much stress that Darcy must as well. Even during the easy times, running Leviathan Inc. held a great deal of pressure. They were both responsible for the entirety of their company. And now during such tough times, that pressure had increased dramatically.


    Stress made people act in unusual ways.


    Perhaps Darcy just needed space, but Chad wanted to listen. He wanted to hear. He wanted to fix, just like he wanted to do with Leviathan Inc. as a whole. They had grown so close working together on Leviathan Inc. and building their energy empire. And now he could tell she was slowly pushing him away, right when he felt they should be closer than ever.


    But she''s my wife, Chad reminded himself. They vowed to spend their forever with each other, through good times and bad. He would be there for her, whatever she needed, and now she had a request for him.


    All Darcy asked was that Chad share who Leviathan Inc. was with Waverwell. She didn''t ask for much. He could tell everyone about their company. He knew it, inside and out. He could make sure the world knew that they had done nothing, that the whistleblower, whoever they were, was wrong, that they still remained as dedicated to their customers as they had been on day one, that Charlie Springs was wrong when she named the disease Arkreyitis.


    Chad placed his hands on his chin and stared off to the side. "Why did she say that? Much less on live television when however many thousands watched? She has no proof. I''ve seen the reports. Arkreon is safe."


    He sighed and shook his head. He had no idea. He wanted to have a guess, some direction he could move forward in, but he did not know what could have driven Charlie Springs to do such a thing.


    His thoughts spun in circles, repeating over and over like a faulty tape.


    No, we are done with this, Chad thought with a grumble. I can''t get anything done if I can''t even think straight.


    And as Chad forced himself to think of anything but Charlie Springs, his thoughts drifted to Felix Fisk, a member of tech support at the Corville headquarters. As far as Chad knew, Felix still remained missing, and he guessed it was unfortunately still true since he had seen no breaking news update segments dominating Waverwell News or Did You Hear?!


    "But did I do the right thing?" he whispered to himself. "Did I do the right thing by sending Felix home? I just wanted him to have some time for himself after what he saw that night. It must have been terrible."


    He answered his own question: "I don''t know."


    He didn''t know. He didn''t know if not sending Felix ¡ªif forcing him to stay at work and use up sick days¡ª would have changed anything.


    Why would the Trinity go after Felix? Chad couldn''t understand it. Doing so put a bigger target on their back. More crimes meant more opportunity for error.


    Chad shook his head. He needed to clear his mind and get his thoughts straight. He couldn''t fix everything if he couldn''t get his brain firing right, so perhaps a short walk and some fresh air would fix things.


    He left his office, shutting and locking the door behind him. Chad held himself together as he forced himself to walk in a controlled manner to the elevator. He jabbed the button and leaned against the handrail once the doors closed. In some small mercy, no one else got on and he rode alone to the gardens atop the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc.


    Some small mercy he got but Felix never did.


    He likely never would have known Felix Fisk''s name if this whole mess never happened. He would have been fine with that.


    Chad could appreciate work without knowing who did it. If Leviathan Inc. ran smoothly, he appreciated the work his employees did, no matter how seemingly small. Everything added up, piece by piece.


    But Chad knew Felix Fisk''s name and for the wrong reasons.


    Chad sat down on one of the couches in the center of the rooftop garden. He hunched over, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, and stared at the wide bowl filled with succulents that spilled out over the sides in splashes of color. Fairy lights hanging overhead gave the rooftop garden a magical air that just felt sickening, rather than calming like it usually felt.


    Felix wasn''t supposed to be there that night, but he was, and now he was paying for it.


    Chad''s breath trembled in his throat.


    "Why is this happening?" he whispered. "I just wanted to try to help Felix. I thought I did the right thing."


    Chad closed his eyes.


    He didn''t know if he did the right thing, but he had wanted Felix to have some time for himself without worry of having to keep up with work. With ensuring Felix would get his paychecks like usual, Chad had thought the time off might offer a break for Felix to take all the time he needed. Chad didn''t know everything, but he knew enough to know that Felix must have witnessed something terrible, something bad enough to need potentially a very long time off.


    Chad couldn''t imagine the toll it must have been taking on Felix, and now Freya, too.


    How could this have started spreading? I thought I was cutting out the rotten parts of the serpent.


    I thought I was doing the right thing by fixing the serpent.


    Everything started when Chad and Darcy made the decision to switch to Arkreon for powering their company. Arkreon ruined it all.


    Arkreon ruined everything.


    But no, that wasn''t right. It wasn''t the truth. And Chad knew that.


    He couldn''t blame an inanimate object, however nice and useful. An inanimate object could never ruin anything, not directly, not through conscious and intentional actions. An inanimate object would only ever be a puppet, something to be used and something to be manipulated.


    Change was always difficult. But that''s what plans were for. Through extensive and meticulous planning, virtually everything could be accounted for. Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, and so on. Always be prepared.


    Switching to Arkreon was never going to be easy. The energy source was new, still relatively unknown when compared to an alternative like coal. People didn''t like what they didn''t know, especially with something so unfamiliar. But without change and venturing into the unfamiliar, nothing ever happened and no one ever made any progress.


    Arkreon was the way of the future, and people just needed to see that.


    And as neurons in Chad''s brain fired and connected and fit pieces together he hadn''t realized matched up, he knew. He knew what he had to do, and he knew his plan.


    Perhaps the revolving doors in the lobby of the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc. would slow further. Perhaps the doors would stop. Perhaps the mines in Spider Ridge would slow, too. Perhaps they, too, would stop. Perhaps more employees would leave. Perhaps more customers would turn their backs.


    But Chad had to stay focused. A serpent would never give up. A leviathan would never roll over and submit. He could never give in.


    Darcy, his wife, needed him. Felix, a tech support worker who got caught up in something he was never supposed to, needed him. Leviathan Inc., the company he had poured so much of his life into, needed him. He couldn''t let down his family.

 Eidolon - Chapter 4 - Ferris Dipper - He Mentioned You

    Chapter 4


    FERRIS DIPPER


    Ferris Dipper steeled his expression into something neutral at Sprague''s warning of they will come for us all. He knew Kristin was only one wrong word away from snapping, and Ferris couldn''t blame him.


    "What do you mean they will come for us all?" Charlie asked, voice hard steel. She took a step forward toward the gate at the entrance to the camp, and Sprague flinched back.


    "You can''t go to the Precincts. You can''t."


    "Why can''t we?" Charlie crossed her arms over her chest.


    Ferris saw Kristin take a deep breath out of the corner of his eye. He hoped it would help Kristin.


    "They''ll know. They''re watching."


    "Who is watching?"


    Ferris could hear the strain in Kristin''s voice. How he wanted answers. How he wanted to be able to piece everything together so maybe it would all make sense even though that wouldn''t happen. Ferris felt the same way but knew his desire for answers didn''t hold a candle to how Kristin felt losing his brother.


    "Th-they-..." Sprague stuttered to a stop. Panic flared in his expression and he squeezed his eyes shut.


    Ren tilted their head to the side.


    "Is it the Trinity?" they asked.


    Sprague''s shoulders drew up and he went completely still. His silence spoke for an answer.


    "The Trinity is watching?" Ren asked, glancing out at Silverlight Forest and back to the dogs'' house.


    Sprague nodded. "Yes."


    "If they''re watching and you say we can''t go to the Precincts, then what are you doing here?" Ferris asked.


    He didn''t know what Sprague''s end goal was, but he wanted to. Sprague might truly mean no harm, or he might just be a good actor. Ferris hoped the former.


    "I don''t know," Sprague whimpered. He buried his face in the crook of his arm. "I don''t know. I just came here. I shouldn''t have, I know, but I couldn''t not."


    "Why shouldn''t you have come here?" Charlie asked.


    "Because I shouldn''t have! They''ll come here, too, and they don''t want to. It''s... it''s like-. No, I shouldn''t have said anything. I''m sorry, I''ll be... I''ll be going."


    Sprague ducked his head and started to get to his feet.


    Ferris held up a hand when he saw Kristin starting to move.


    "Hey, Sprague," Ferris said. Sprague had admitted to Ashley''s murder and something just didn''t sit right. Ferris couldn''t let Sprague go, and he hoped he wasn''t making a mistake. "Come inside. Let me get you something to eat."


    Sprague stiffened. "No, it''s ok. You don''t have to do that."


    "Alright. How about just to get warm?"


    Sprague hesitated, and a flurry of emotions flickered across his gaze. Seconds ticked by, giving way to minutes, and Ferris held his breath, hoping that he could keep Sprague at the camp until he could be convinced to go to the Precincts. He didn''t like the thought of an admitted murderer right where he slept, but the alternative was not having his eyes on Sprague and letting him go. Ferris didn''t have the ability to arrest and hold someone like the Precincts did without a wildlife offense charge, so Sprague just had to stay of his own free will. With Sprague where Ferris could see him, he could then figure things out.


    "Ok," Sprague softly agreed.


    "Great," Ferris replied. "Right this way. I''m Ferris. It''s nice to meet you, Sprague."


    "You, too." The words sounded parroted, rehearsed. Sprague waited as Zip opened the gate to the camp, then slipped inside, carefully stepping over the track.


    xxxx


    Once inside, Sprague eyed everything when he thought he wasn''t being watched. He stood close to the wall right by the door and didn''t touch anything, keeping his arms close to his body, and his gaze raked over every bit of the house.


    "You can sit down, if you''d like," Ferris offered.


    "It''s-." Sprague paused. "I... ok."


    Hesitating, Sprague stepped toward the couch. He passed by Ren, who watched him from the kitchen table. Kristin and Zip stood by the kitchen stools. Charlie kept her distance and leaned against the wall by the group''s rooms, but Ferris knew she still paid close attention.


    Sprague curled up on the corner of the couch, legs pulled to his chest and feet away from the edge of the cushion. He pressed his back into the couch, as if he wished for the fabric to swallow him whole.


    Ferris watched from the kitchen. He peeled a banana and focused on the careful, repetitive movements to calm himself so he didn''t lose his focus. Charlie padded over to the fridge, keeping half an eye on Sprague, and grabbed a slice of cheese.


    "Ain''t much we can do for him," Charlie murmured, voice nearly inaudible as she leaned against Ferris''s arm.


    He gently pulled her in closer, slow enough that she could pull away if she wished. She didn''t.


    "No," Ferris replied softly. "No, I don''t think there is."


    "Gotta see what he knows. Gotta get all the details and see where that leads us with Ashley."


    "Do you think he really murdered Ashley?"


    Charlie shrugged, picking at the cheese and eating little nibbles. "I don''t know. Dunno all the details of the case. Want to but also don''t. Want to know what happened, but don''t wanna to know what Ashley was forced to endure until the end. I want to go back to the morning before he left and never let him go. Feels like I could really just turn back the clock and see him again. Feels like I was so close to being able to save him."


    Ferris huffed a breath of agreement as he shook his head. "I feel the same way. I want answers but don''t at the same time because I don''t want to know but still need to know and I feel like I''m going to suffocate if I have to wait another moment without knowing." He sighed. "I feel like I could''ve done something and I still can, even though I know there''s nothing I can do to change it. I can only get answers."


    Ferris turned his attention from Charlie back to fully on Sprague. He hadn''t moved from where he sat curled up on the corner of the couch, staring straight through the tv remote on the coffee table.


    No one spoke, and seconds ticked by in virtual silence.


    Sprague flinched when he knocked a pillow off the couch, whites of his eyes flashing, and he swiped it from the ground before it had even stopped moving. He carefully patted it down back into place, and gave it several moments to make sure it wouldn''t move before returning to his former position.


    Ren switched between watching Sprague and the dogs'' house. Zip leaned against the kitchen island, and Kristin stood in the corner near Zip, arms crossed across his chest and fingers tapping out breaths as he kept his gaze locked onto Sprague.


    Ferris knew Sprague had answers in some form, but he also knew they weren''t easy answers. Sprague wasn''t a suspect who would offer every answer in sick detail to show what had been done, and he wasn''t someone who saw something terrible and just had to share to help. Either he was telling the truth and was responsible and was acting to try to displace suspicion, he wasn''t acting and was terrified but still knew something, or some other entirely that Ferris did not know.


    Perhaps if he could somehow ease the fear, real or acted, then he could get answers. Perhaps if Sprague felt comfortable enough, he would be willing to share.


    Ferris didn''t know how he would get to that point, and he knew he should be dialing Larson right now to get the Moonfall Precinct in contact with Sprague. But Sprague had made it so clear they couldn''t call Larson. That they were watching. The Trinity.


    He didn''t know if that was true, but he still knew the Moonfall Precinct had the resources to take safety measures. Even if they had failed in Felix''s case.


    By the end of the day today, Ferris vowed. By the end of the day he would call. He had until then to get Sprague to agree of his own free will to talk with the Moonfall Precinct. Or really any Precinct since they all communicated. But he needed to get Sprague to agree and talk with someone at the Precincts.


    They needed whatever information Sprague had. Perhaps it would be enough to break open Ashley''s case, or Alaska''s case. Or any case they had open¡ª Ferris would take it.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    xxxx


    "Felix Fisk is still missing," Ren stated a few minutes later as they scrolled on their phone. "Waverwell News just published an update about it."


    Sprague drew in a sharp breath, the first sound Ferris had heard him make since sitting down on the couch.


    "What is it?" Kristin said, and Ferris could tell how much effort it took to say the words in a calm manner, not the demand Ferris knew everyone ¡ªincluding him¡ª felt tempted to give. Sprague seemed to know something, and Ferris wanted to know what. He needed to know what, even if he wouldn''t force someone to speak. Even if he couldn''t force someone to speak, especially when he knew that any wrong move could mean that Ashley and Alaska wouldn''t get justice.


    "Felix Fisk is missing?" Sprague asked.


    "Yes," Ren replied. "Did you not know?"


    Sprague shook his head. "No. I came right here and don''t often check the news."


    "You don''t?" Charlie asked. "It''s everywhere."


    "There are so many lies. Laz-." He cut himself off like the air got punched from his lungs, paling as he pushed himself into the back of the couch. He lifted his chin and squeezed his eyes shut. Sprague gulped down a deep breath and swallowed, throat clicking as he did so.


    Ferris frowned as he watched Sprague try to calm himself.


    Ferris crossed the room, pulled the coffee table away from the couch and toward the tv, then sat down on it. Charlie stayed in the kitchen, bracing herself on the kitchen counter and continuing to pick at the slice of cheese.


    As Sprague wrapped his arms around his torso and pushing further into the couch, head tilted to the side with a pleading expression, Ferris leaned back.


    What the hell is going on?


    Ferris couldn''t understand, and he felt like he was missing just a handful of little pieces that would connect everything. Things might not ever make sense, but at least he would know and could say that he helped bring those responsible to justice.


    "Have you seen the Trinity?" Ferris asked slowly.


    Sprague stiffened and went as still as a statue. He shook his head in a clear no, but how the blood drained from his face and his shoulders drew up told a different story.


    "Is the person you almost named earlier a part of the Trinity?"


    "I''m sorry," Sprague blurted.


    Ferris resisted narrowing his eyes and kept his expression neutral, but he saw Zip subtly squirm out of the corner of his eye with a sad look. Charlie grimaced in the kitchen and ripped her slice of cheese in half. She ticked her head to the side in a movement that told Ferris she could understand at least part of this better than he could ever hope to.


    "I''m sorry," Sprague repeated, trembling. He pulled his limbs close to his body and scratched his fingernails down his forearms, leaving behind red lines. "I''m sorry, I''m sorry, I''m sorry. I shouldn''t have lied. I know that! I should''ve just responded!"


    "Ain''t no problem here, Sprague," Charlie said. "Gonna take a guess that whoever you''re talking about is a pretty damn scary person."


    "I shouldn''t have lied. I''m sorry."


    "It''s fine," Charlie murmured, forcing a calm look, but Ferris could see its cracks. "Fear''s valid. Sucks to no end, but it''s valid."


    "Who did you see?" Kristin asked. "Who have you seen that''s related to Ashley Baok''s murder?"


    Panic flared in Sprague''s eyes as he whirled around.


    "Please," he pleaded. "They''re gonna know. Don''t make me tell you. They''ll know."


    Ferris watched Sprague and tried to puzzle out what was going on.


    Kristin groaned and ran his hands through his hair, stalking around in a circle. "If you say you can''t tell us anything, then what the hell are you doing here? Why did you come if you aren''t going to say anything?"


    "I don''t know," Sprague said. "I don''t know why I came here. I felt like I should, but I don''t know why. I wanted to say it was me and tell you that I''m the one who killed Ashley Baok, even though... even though La-. Even-even though he-they-... even though you don''t... do that."


    Ferris filed away every word Sprague said to piece together for what might''ve been hidden away that he didn''t pick up on the first time around, and he waited for Sprague to continue.


    "He said this would happen," Sprague whispered to himself. He chewed on a nail as he stared at the arm of the couch. "He''s right."


    But before anyone could react, Sprague spoke again.


    "I''m sorry," he said. "I... I shouldn''t be here. I shouldn''t have come. I apologize. I''m sorry. I''d best be going now..."


    Sprague stood up as he trailed off, but Ren got to their feet and acted as a subtle barrier beside the kitchen table and in front of the doorway. When he saw Ren, he went back to the couch, sitting on his knees with his head ducked.


    Zip tilted his head to the side. "Why shouldn''t you-you be here?"


    "They''re gonna find out!" Sprague exclaimed, eyes wide and wet with unshed tears.


    "Who will?"


    "The Trinity. They''re gonna find out." Sprague choked on a breath. "I''m gonna kill you."


    "I''m gonna kill you," Sprague repeated, voice distant.


    Everyone stiffened, but Sprague didn''t seem to notice. He looked too far gone in his own world.


    Ferris paused at Sprague''s words and his tone. The wording didn''t make sense with his body language and how he said it. He seemed to believe the words, but nothing about him struck Ferris as either someone expressing their frustration in a playful way or a cold killer making a threat they could and would back with lethal action. Ferris had spoken with many criminals, albeit wildlife offenders, and most either denied their crimes or boasted about them. A few just sat in silence, but none acted like Sprague did.


    Sprague could be acting, and Ferris knew that. How someone said something meant nothing if their words didn''t line up with their actions. At the end of the day, I''m gonna kill you still meant a threat.


    "You''re gonna kill us?" Charlie echoed. Her whole body stilled into an eerie calm, and as Ferris glanced over at her, she almost seemed to be daring Sprague to say yes.


    The tension in the room was palpable, and Ferris didn''t think anyone was breathing. Ren fixed Sprague with an intense stare, and they watched him much like their dogs watched those they tracked¡ª following every movement, never wavering for an instant. Kristin did the same, and he widened his stance. Zip stopped fiddling with his pen.


    "You''re gonna kill us?" Charlie repeated, pressing further.


    Sprague nodded. "Yeah." He ran his hands over his face as his chest heaved and he scanned Silverlight Forest outside the window. "I came here. They''re gonna follow."


    "The... the Moonfall Precinct can-can get here in..." Zip trailed off as he bit his lip and thought for a moment. "Under ten minutes. Probably... probably more... like five. Get here fast."


    "No." Sprague shook his head.


    "Why not?" Kristin asked, voice quivering and his fists clenching tight enough that his knuckles paled. "My brother deserves answers."


    Sprague paused and went still. He tilted his head to the side. "Your brother?"


    "Yes, my brother, Ashley."


    Sprague hummed, squinting his eyes. "Are you Kristin?"


    "Yes," Kristin replied slowly.


    "Oh." Sprague looked down at the couch.


    No one spoke as Sprague seemed to think over something.


    Ferris had assumed Sprague at least knew something about the group, or at least that Ashley had a brother named Kristin considering the widespread coverage of his murder. But Sprague didn''t appear to have known Kristin and Ashley were related.


    "He mentioned you," Sprague eventually said.


    Kristin froze, and his expression fell slack. "He mentioned me?" Ferris heard the shake in Kristin''s voice.


    Sprague ducked his head once in a nod, though his gaze stayed on his hands. "He did. He seemed to care very deeply about you."


    Pain rippled across Kristin''s face, and he closed his eyes as he swallowed thickly. He took a breath before responding. "Forgive me for not taking someone who just confessed to my brother''s murder at their word."


    Sprague didn''t react past how his shoulders sank. "I know, and I understand. I only talked to him for a minute, but he told me about you and he seemed very proud of his brother, Kristin."


    "We have to call the Moonfall Precinct, Sprague," Kristin said.


    Ferris could hear the fractures in his voice. The exhaustion, the need for answers, the frustration of trying to play nice but it not working how he wanted. The slipping control.


    Ferris knew they needed the Moonfall Precinct.


    "You can''t," Sprague pleaded


    "We have to," Kristin repeated. He took a step forward, and Sprague sat back onto his feet.


    "You can''t," Sprague repeated.


    "You admitted to Ashley''s murder, you said you were going to kill us, and now you have said you talked with Ashley. The Moonfall Precinct needs to talk with you."


    "You can''t," Sprague repeated. "Please, you can''t call them."


    Kristin took a breath. "Why not?"


    "Because the Trinity will know!" Sprague cried. "If they have Felix, then they can get anyone who knows who they are."


    Ferris stepped in. "They know how to deal with people like the Trinity. They can keep you safe."


    Sprague shook his head. "No one is safe. They got to Felix, and they can get to anyone."


    "Are they going to go after you?" Ferris asked.


    Sprague shrugged. "Probably. Not in the same way as you all."


    "Sprague," Kristin said, "we''re calling the Moonfall Precinct. Talk to them. They''ll listen. I hope you realize we can''t let you out of this house until they get here. At a minimum, you have admitted to a murder."


    Sprague watched as Ren stood up, dialing Larson''s number on their phone, and stepping just outside the front door. They left it propped open. Zip and Charlie each moved closer to the kitchen table to block the exit in case Sprague tried anything.


    "Why?" Sprague asked. He didn''t look upset that Ren called Larson, more scared. To Ferris''s slight surprise he didn''t seem to consider running. If anything, he didn''t seem to have fully registered that Ren had left.


    Ferris hoped the Moonfall Precinct would get to camp soon. Sprague seemed to need assistance beyond what anyone at the camp could offer.


    Charlie responded before Kristin could. "Because the best people for you to talk to right now are with the Moonfall Precinct. They''ll listen and get you whatever help you may need. No shame in askin''."


    Sprague looked off to the side. "Can''t I just keep talking with you guys? I know... I know I''ve messed up, but I promise I''ll keep talking. I promise I can do better. I-I... I''d tell you the man''s name, but... h-. I-I can''t-. He doesn''t..." Sprague took a breath of air and started to speak, then hesitated for a moment. "He doesn''t like it when people talk about him like that. Sorry."


    Ferris offered a small smile that he hoped put Sprague more at ease, but he didn''t really know what to say. He went with sympathetic. "I''m sorry, Sprague, but you can''t. The people who can do something with everything you have to say are at the Moonfall Precinct. We can''t do what they can. They can protect you, listen to what you have to say, and use the information you give them."


    Sprague stared blankly through the floor and didn''t respond. Ferris knew he didn''t want to know what Sprague saw instead of the hardwood in the NYTE house. But a part of Ferris still did want to know¡ª who knew if there was some little detail that could crack open what happened to Ashley and who was responsible.


    No one in the house spoke, and the silence weighed down like a crushing boulder. Ren stood just outside the front door and continued talking on the phone, too quiet for Ferris to listen along but just loud enough that he knew they carried on a conversation. Zip watched from the kitchen stool with one of his legs pulled up. Kristin bit down on a knuckle as he stared at Sprague.


    "I know the Trinity." Sprague choked on the words.


    "What are their names?" Kristin asked the question before anyone could react.


    Ferris froze, breath catching in his throat. The words stunned him, but he shouldn''t have heard them, or at least not now. Larson and the Moonfall Precinct should''ve heard them first, not him. He couldn''t do as much with the words, and he wished he hadn''t heard them when he held so much less power than most anyone else at any of the Precincts. Ferris had the power to track down and arrest poachers. Larson had the power to arrest anyone with a warrant and solve crimes throughout Waverwell.


    Ferris felt like he stood on the edge of a cliff, where he could see the other side of the plummeting canyon. Answers to what happened to Ashley hovered so close, almost within reach, but he couldn''t quite piece everything together. With Sprague having come to the camp, here with information few could offer, answers felt closer than ever, yet still so far away since he hadn''t talked to the people who could do something real with the information he had, provided he would share it.


    "The Trinity?" Sprague asked, shifting on the couch and pulling his knees ever tighter to his chest.


    Kristin nodded. "Yes."


    Seconds ticked by, each feeling like an eternity, and Ferris forced himself to stay calm.


    And, eventually, Sprague replied:


    "They go by the Lionheart, the Set, and the Destiny."

 Eidolon - Chapter 5 - Cynthia Corville - How Can I Sleep at Night?

    Chapter 5


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Cynthia Corville blinked. She hesitated.


    "I-I''m sorry?" she said. "Someone supposedly has survived the disease?"


    Danzig nodded. They adjusted their glasses when they started to fog up from their mask. "Yes," they replied. "There is a rumor that someone contracted the disease and survived."


    Cynthia leaned forward on her desk. She held eye contact with Danzig and searched their gaze. "Is there any evidence to back this up?"


    They shook their head this time. "No, as of yet I have not found any proof that this is anything more than gossip, though I also don''t have any evidence to the contrary. I hope it''s true since it would mean that someone can live through this and I can work with researchers to figure out how and why they survived, but I''m a scientist. I need the evidence. I need facts. I need data to back up any claim. Rumors can make for good television, but they have no place in science."


    "I''ll second that. Goes for laws, too. There is no place for rumors or guesswork. Not when something is all but written in stone. Even if it can be changed, it takes time. Better to get it right the first time."


    "That is very true," Danzig agreed.


    They slouched back in their seat, turning their attention to their notebook. Tapping their pen on the side, Danzig frowned at the pages, then scribbled something down, crossed it out, and wrote something beneath it.


    Cynthia and Danzig sat in silence for a few minutes.


    "Do you think it is true? The rumor?" Cynthia asked.


    Danzig stared off to the side, thinking over the question, and Cynthia could see the wheels turning in their head. They ran a hand through their hair before shifting in their seat.


    "I''m honestly not sure," they replied. "I cannot definitively rule the rumor in or out. But if it''s true and someone truly has survived the disease, I would love to speak with them. With what we know of the disease, the rumor does not sound very believable, but... things can happen. Our understanding of the disease is nowhere near complete, and I will never count out the possibility of someone surviving something currently known to be fatal. Sometimes the unexplainable happens. I hope this is true. I want it to be true." Danzig sighed and they gave a soft smile before meeting Cynthia''s gaze. "But until I get more information and the concrete facts I cannot say either way."


    Cynthia nodded. "I suppose that''s the issue," she murmured softly. "We always just need more facts than we have."


    Danzig hummed in agreement.


    "Oh, how is the... It''s the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit, right?"


    "Yes, it is," Cynthia confirmed.


    "How are they?"


    Cynthia grimaced. "They are doing as well as they can be, I suppose."


    "I cannot imagine going through something like that." Danzig exhaled through their teeth.


    But then they paused and frowned at their notebook with a curious expression. Their gaze darted over the page, and they flipped through it as the gears turned in their head.


    A few moments passed by, and then Danzig jolted forward, one leg outstretched like they were about to bolt.


    "Can I help with something?" Cynthia asked.


    They held up a finger, staring at their notebook with wide eyes.


    A second ticked by on the melting clock on Cynthia''s desk, then another.


    Danzig gasped and stood up.


    "I''m sorry," they said, speed walking toward the door of the President''s Room. "I have to go. There''s something I have to research further. I don''t know as much as I should about it." They skipped on their toes as Cynthia saw a smile forming behind their mask and their eyes lit up. "I think there might be a way someone could have survived this, even though we don''t have a treatment or cure that''s been proven to work."


    xxxx


    Seven Valentine called an hour or so later as Cynthia flipped through yet another stack of documents on the disease.


    "Hello?" she answered, setting aside the papers and pulling out a pad of paper for notes.


    "Hi, Mrs. Presi-. Sorry, Cynthia."


    She could hear the wince in Seven''s voice.


    "Hello, Seven," she said. "What can I help you with?"


    "My brother, Sedge, is going to call you and he wanted to make sure now is a good time."


    Cynthia glanced at the documents. She needed to work through them, but they could wait.


    "Have him call me, please."


    "Ok, I will. Thank you, Cynthia."


    Seven hung up and Cynthia filed away the documents for later.


    Her phone rung yet again a minute later.


    "Hello, Sedge," Cynthia said as she wrote a heading for her notes.


    "Hello, Cynthia. How are you today?"


    "I am doing well," she replied automatically. "How are you?"


    "Could be better, but we''re working on that. As soon as the Trinity is caught and all of this gets figured out, I will be sleeping much better." Sedge exhaled, then added: "I mean... I''m never going to forget what has happened. I don''t know that I''ll ever be able to sleep well like I did before. But I''ll sleep better knowing the Trinity is behind bars."


    Cynthia ticked her jaw. "Me too," she murmured. "Me too."


    She would never forget either. How could she? At least two of her citizens were dead, and known murderers, even if their identities were yet to be determined, walked her streets. Cynthia was the President of Waverwell, and she couldn''t sleep knowing there was such a risk.


    And the disease only added to her stress.


    "Anyway," Sedge continued, "I wanted to meet with you since I''m guessing the evening news is going to headline Ashley Baok''s murder."


    Cynthia hummed. She had seen how the news had covered Ashley''s murder extensively at the start, even if some of it was little more than speculation at best and throwing out unsubstantiated claims that only pointed fingers at worst, and soon died down when the next story came along. But hearing how Sedge expected the news to cover Ashley Baok''s murder first piqued her interest, and not in a good way.


    "What has come up?" she asked.


    Sedge sighed, and the sound came through slightly garbled from the speaker. "That''s the thing. We''re hoping it won''t break just yet, but we think we have someone who knows the Trinity."


    Cynthia paused. Her stomach sank and her skin prickled as the hair on her arms stood upright. She felt like a cool air had creeped into the room, even though the windows were latched tight. "You have someone who knows the Trinity?"


    "Supposedly. Larson''s currently talking with them to try to get an idea of what they know and how trustworthy they are and what angle they may be playing. But it''s a new lead, which we''ll never turn down."


    "How''d you find them?"


    "That''s the thing." Sedge mulled over his words for a moment, and Cynthia heard him shifting in the background. "We didn''t find them. They found the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit first."


    "They sought out the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"


    "Yes," Sedge said, "that is what happened."


    "What does that mean?" Cynthia asked.


    "We''re not quite sure yet. Something like this doesn''t automatically mean they''re guilty, but it''s certainly... curious. The camp is designed to not be accidentally stumbled across, and it''s in a part of Silverlight Forest that the general public does not have access to. They might have sought out the camp with ulterior motives in perhaps the next move by the Trinity, or they are being truthful and are offering the information they have."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Cynthia couldn''t resist her next question. "Do they know things they could only know if they were involved?"


    Sedge hummed. "I can''t answer that just yet. We need to learn more about them and speak with them further."


    Cynthia sighed. "I can understand that." Her mind drifted back to the start of their conversation. "Why do you think the news will cover Ashley Baok''s murder if you are hoping the story won''t break?"


    "A swarm of reporters from Did You Hear?! somehow found out we had brought someone to the Moonfall Precinct and they were outside. A full on ruckus. I don''t know how they found out, but I''d be shocked if it wasn''t headlining on the news this evening."


    "That''s not good," Cynthia replied.


    Sedge huffed a short laugh. "To say the least."


    xxxx


    Sedge''s prediction proved to be accurate.


    While Cynthia ate dinner in the President''s Room so she could immediately return to work, Waverwell News and Did You Hear?! both aired the footage of the person believed to know the Trinity walking inside.


    A car lacking the usual Moonfall Precinct markings pulled up to the back of the building and another one parked just behind to block most of the view. Cameras flashed harsh beams of light, and shutters created a racket alongside the chatter of reporters barking questions. Larson stepped out of the first car, shot a look at the other officers piling out of the vehicles, turned his back to the array of cameras, and helped someone out of the car. He and a few other officers shielded the person from view and led them inside.


    And as Shaheena Driscoll and Jaymes Haverfield discussed what this could mean, Cynthia dropped her gaze to her dinner of lamb chops she''d had delivered from the kitchen and scowled. She wished she understood what was going on. Perhaps if she knew the ins and outs of what detectives did and the strategic moves of what to say and do and when, then she could quiet her mind and silence the rambling questions.


    She wished for the millionth time that she could do more.


    In her heart, Cynthia knew that there was a reason why she was President and Larson and his team were detectives. The world needed specialized people, and no one could do everything. She had her strengths as President of Waverwell, and Larson had his strengths as lead detective at the Moonfall Precinct. They could do more together than they could ever do on their own.


    But, somehow, despite fully knowing that, Cynthia still wished she could do it all. That she could have the Trinity arrested and the disease stopped right now. Or yesterday. Or when each first began so no one would''ve had to suffer.


    No, you can''t think like that, Cynthia told herself.


    She didn''t look up when she heard the door to the President''s Room open; she recognized the footsteps and would know them everywhere.


    "Well, you look like death."


    Cynthia rolled her eyes as Charlotte sat down across from her.


    "How nice of you, Char."


    "Honesty is a good thing, Sin." Charlotte smiled as she took a scoop of her cheesecake.


    "Did you eat dinner?"


    Charlotte nodded. "I did. I want cheesecake."


    "Let me have a bite." Cynthia picked up the little spoon in front of her plate and reached across the table, but Charlotte moved her bowl back.


    "No," Charlotte replied. "You have your own food."


    "But I want some." Cynthia gave a mock childish pout.


    "Well, that''s just too bad."


    "I''m the President," Cynthia teased.


    "You can''t always get what you want," Charlotte shot back, but she pushed her bowl of cheesecake across the desk with a smile and Cynthia took a bite of it.


    "Thank you," Cynthia murmured, but her voice was weaker than she intended.


    "Are you alright?"


    Cynthia frowned at Charlotte''s question and set down her fork, intending to give some sarcastic response, but all she could do was look away. Charlotte saw that and her posture softened.


    "Come on," Charlotte said as she stood up and walked around to the side of the mahogany desk. She held out her arms and wiggled her fingers in a come here motion.


    Cynthia sighed and stood up, following the silent request.


    Charlotte pulled her into a hug, and Cynthia settled into the warm embrace of her wife. Charlotte ran her hand up and down Cynthia''s back, and Cynthia felt the tension begin to ease from her body for the first time all day.


    "Relax," Charlotte murmured. "Breathe. Chill. You''re doing great, and no one expects you to do it all. You''re the President, but you''re human. You are not a robot, Sin. A robot cannot do the job you do as a human being. You have empathy for everyone. It''s not your fault that none of this can get solved overnight, so don''t pretend like you can do it all in one night."


    "But I feel like I should," Cynthia whispered. She knew her wife would call her on it, and she uttered the words as if she were telling a terrible secret. "They''re all watching me. How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing I have so many problems in my country? I''ve got a group of murderers walking the streets and a disease rampaging through."


    Once Cynthia started speaking, the words poured from within her and she couldn''t stop them. "How can I sleep at night knowing that Kristin Baok and Kansas Sampson March have lost their sibling? How can I sleep at night knowing that there are countless families mourning the loss of a loved one from the disease? How can I sleep at night knowing that I live in a bubble with the highest security and have virtually whatever I ask for the second I request it, and that while I do what I can to make sure my country is safe, I cannot replicate this bubble for every single person? How can I sleep beside you, Char, when there are surely so many spouses learning to sleep without their partner because the disease took them away? All I can say is that we''re doing our best with the disease, that we''re looking into every possibility, and echo guidelines and recommendations. Those words wouldn''t comfort me, and I doubt they do for many of our citizens. I can''t even tell them we''re on the verge of a breakthrough, that we''re testing a potential cure, that we''re trialing a treatment. I can''t tell my citizens what they need and deserve to hear: That medical professionals are well-informed on the disease, have a treatment, and are coordinating with me on creating a plan on getting it out to those who need it. There isn''t one piece of good information I can give them."


    Charlotte put her hand on Cynthia''s cheek and wiped away a tear. Charlotte''s face was blurry in Cynthia''s eyes, but her heart softened at the sight of her wife.


    Through thick and through thin, they had said at their wedding. Together until the end, no matter what life threw their way.


    "Cynthia," Charlotte murmured, eyes watering with tears. "Cynthia, you cannot fix all of this with the snap of your fingers. You are doing your best, and that''s all you can do. Would you expect anyone else to know exactly what to do in this situation? Would you expect anyone else to have solved all of this and stopped the disease that we do not yet understand or catch the Trinity or solve any problem on your plate?"


    Cynthia shook her head. "Of course not."


    "Then you have to give yourself some grace. You are human, and you are working day and night. You will figure this out, ok? I have no doubt that you can do it. But you have to rest and give yourself grace."


    Cynthia leaned back, sitting on the edge of her desk. Tears rolled down her face and stung her eyes. "How am I supposed to go easy on myself when people are dying? I have to fix this all, but I can''t yet. What am I supposed to say when someone asks why their daddy died or why their daughter died or why their friend died when we should''ve had a treatment and a cure."


    Charlotte didn''t answer right away, and Cynthia forced herself to take a slow breath, inhaling deeply and exhaling for as long as she could. She had to try to stay calm. She couldn''t solve anything if she didn''t.


    "Cynthia," Charlotte started. "You care deeper than anyone I know. It''s why I feel you''re perfect for this job. You want to help, and you''ll do anything you can to try to make Waverwell a better place for everyone. But right now, you have to accept that you cannot solve it all this very instant. Sometimes things take time, even though you want a solution right now. It''s not your fault, Sin. It''s not. I know there''s a massive spotlight on you and that everyone is turning to you for answers and that sometimes you don''t have those answers and are wondering the same thing yourself, but it''s not your fault that not everything can be solved in one day. You are doing the best you can, and you can rely on your network of support. Everyone has their area of expertise. Larson, Asa, Azrael, Ryzor, and everyone at the Precincts knows how to investigate and track down and arrest the Trinity. Danzig and all the researchers at the labs know how to discover the treatment and cure for the disease. You, Cynthia Corville, know how to lead a country through this impossible circumstance. I''m here for you. Gabriella is here for you. We all are. No matter how lovely it would be, this cannot be solved overnight. But you aren''t alone, ok? We''re all here."


    Cynthia gripped the edge of her desk and her skin pulled taut across her knuckles.


    "I know that," she bit out.


    She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, tugging on it. Charlotte laced her fingers through Cynthia''s and gently pulled her hand away, keeping it in her own.


    "I feel like if anyone else were to be doing this job..." Cynthia trailed off, taking a breath before finishing a sentence she knew Charlotte wouldn''t like. She hung her head and let her hair hide her face. "I feel like if anyone else were to be doing this job they... they''d be better at it."


    Charlotte lifted Cynthia''s chin, forcing her to meet her gaze. "Cynthia," she started. "The citizens of Waverwell voted for you to be their President. If they felt another would''ve done a better job, someone else would have won. Whoever gets the most votes wins, and you got the most votes. It is that simple. They believe in you. And you are currently facing something that no one has ever faced before. There is no guidebook for how best to handle a situation like this, both with the disease and the Trinity. You were thrown into the deep end, and you are doing the best you can, ok?"


    Cynthia nodded. She pushed off from the desk and pulled out of Charlotte''s grip to wrap her arms around her wife''s shoulders, snuggling in close. Charlotte hugged her tight.


    "I''m here," Charlotte whispered. "I''m here."


    Eventually, after a while wrapped in Charlotte''s arms, Cynthia could exhale and let the tension leave her body.


    She still felt worked up and energy and the need to move and just do something still coursed through her veins, but the band around her lungs loosened enough to where she could breathe. Her muscles relaxed, and she slumped into her wife, who tightened her grip.


    "I''m here, Sin," Charlotte murmured, letting go as Cynthia pulled away.


    Cynthia took a slow breath, then exhaled slower.


    "I know," she said. "Thank you."


    "Of course. You needed me." Charlotte took Cynthia''s hand and rubbed the back of it with her thumb.


    "It feels like you''re always there for me. What if you need me?"


    "Then you''ll be there for me." Charlotte shrugged. "It''s a two-way street. Sometimes one might give more than the other, but it''ll even out in the end."


    "You don''t feel like you''re doing too much and not getting enough in return?" Cynthia asked.


    Charlotte shook her head. "Of course not. If I ever have any concerns about our relationship, I will come and talk with you. But I have zero. Things have been... a lot lately with the disease and the Trinity on top of the usual work of keeping a country running, but we''re figuring it out. We are doing the best we can in an unprecedented time, Sin. I don''t think anything is going to be normal. And if you need someone to talk to or to hug or even to just sit next to in absolute silence, give me a call. We''ll communicate and figure it out, alright?"


    Cynthia nodded in agreement. "Alright," she replied. "Thank you. I needed that. It''s all... it''s been tough lately."


    "To say the least," Charlotte said. "You''ve got more things on your plate than I could count. We all need some help from time to time."


    "Very true." Cynthia sat back down at her desk and cut off another bite of lamb.


    "So how much more work do you have to do tonight? Do you think you''ll be done before I''m asleep?"


    Cynthia looked at the stack of documents on the disease she had been working through before Sedge called. She wanted to have a little more time with her wife, to be able to let go and just be with Charlotte... but she also was President. Any error in her work, any missed tasks, getting behind even just a little had a massive effect. It all had to be done right the first time.


    "I''m sorry," Cynthia said, meeting Charlotte''s gaze with a sad expression. "I don''t think so tonight."


    Charlotte inclined her head. "Alright. But make sure to give me a kiss before you go to sleep."


    "Of course I will."

 Eidolon - Chapter 6 - Ren - He Followed Me

    Chapter 6


    REN


    Ren didn''t quite know what to make of Sprague Fetch.


    They couldn''t quite puzzle him out.


    On the one hand, he had confessed to Ashley''s murder, said he was going to kill the group, and said he knew the Trinity. He had even given their names¡ª the Lionheart, the Set, and the Destiny.


    And yet nothing about him set off Ren''s alarm bells. Sprague had been in their camp, in their house. No one was around ¡ªSilverlight Forest surrounded the camp from all sides¡ª and he made no move. The offenders Ren helped track down often held a feeling that sent prickling chills down their spine, but Sprague didn''t hold that. He just sat on the couch, curled up, with eyes that spoke of seeing too much.


    He confused Ren, but they would figure him out.


    Ren had called the Moonfall Precinct after Sprague had agreed, and they were somewhat surprised by that. He''d had such a strong opinion against it previously, but they slipped out the front door, holding it partway open as they dialed Larson''s number.


    After explaining the situation and that they had someone who had information on the Trinity, Larson swore. Ren silently grimaced on the other end; they had never heard so many swear words strung together, not even after the time Charlie and Ashley accidentally lit a cake on fire and they couldn''t put it out and set off the fire alarm.


    "We''ll be there in five minutes," Larson eventually said, and Ren heard rushed footsteps and the beginning of a shouted order before the line cut off.


    And they were.


    The Moonfall Precinct came barreling into camp in under five minutes, and Zip had only just opened the gate when they arrived. Officers piled out of the cars, dressed in their Precinct uniforms with face masks tied securely around their heads.


    Sprague had stiffened at the sound of the commotion. A door slammed shut and he flinched on the couch, jumping back into the cushions, eyes darting all over and eventually focusing on the front door until it opened.


    "We''re here," Larson had said, and his gaze immediately found Sprague, who shrunk back.


    Ren hadn''t told him much about Sprague, partially at his insistence. He could figure out what he needed to and what Sprague really knew. The fewer assumptions he had, the better.


    More Precinct officers filed in after Larson. The kitchen area of the NYTE house soon filled up and grew cramped.


    Ren had moved around the island over to the stools. They sat down on one beside Zip who eyed the officers with a wide gaze. His knee bounced and he took apart and reassembled his pen over and over. Kristin gritted his teeth and glared at the floor, arms crossed over his chest. Ferris ran his thumb over his forehead, looking like he needed a nap, and Charlie leaned against him, eyes blank as she stared through Sprague. Ren wondered what she saw. They didn''t think they wanted to know.


    Larson surveyed the scene and then waved most of the officers out of the house, leaving only a handful inside. A few pulled out notebooks and pens to take notes.


    Sprague had gazed evenly at Larson for several moments. "Are you the Moonfall Precinct?" he asked, body tense as a bowstring and ducked down and angled as though he were about to bolt.


    Larson nodded. "Yes, we are the Moonfall Precinct. My name is Larson Hotch."


    "Do you lie?"


    Larson didn''t react to the odd question, although Kristin frowned. Ren inclined their head.


    "I do not lie," Larson replied.


    Sprague hadn''t responded. He looked off to the side and fell into silence.


    "Ren tells me your name is Sprague Fetch?" Larson had asked, stepping forward toward Sprague as the officers hung back. Ren stayed near the kitchen and stood beside Zip and Charlie.


    Sprague''s lips flattened out into a thin line. He closed his eyes as a hurricane of emotions flickered across his face.


    "Yeah," he had murmured after a minute. "I''m Sprague Fetch."


    He stayed quiet for another minute before asking: "Are you going to arrest me?"


    "Why do you think that?"


    Ren knew Larson already knew Sprague had confessed to Ashley''s murder ¡ªthey had told him as much¡ª but Larson wanted to hear it himself.


    Sprague''s face crumpled, and Larson''s expression didn''t change.


    "It... it-. It was me," Sprague had said. Larson had given him time, and Sprague eventually continued, echoing the words he had first told Ren: "I''m the one who killed Ashley Baok."


    Even though Ren had heard those words previously, they still felt the hitch in their breath, that bit of shock. The room fell still, though Sprague didn''t react. As if the room held its breath, no one moved. Ren thought if someone breathed wrong, the moment would shatter and Sprague might stop talking.


    Larson''s expression had still stayed the same. "Why is that?" he asked.


    "I did it. I killed him."


    "You killed Ashley Baok?" Larson had glanced over his shoulder, frowned, and then waved his hand behind his back. An officer approached Ren and the group.


    Sprague had ducked his head, staring off through the television and paying no attention to anyone else in the room. Ren didn''t think he saw the house through his blank gaze. "I killed him."


    "How did you kill him? Can you describe what you did for me?"


    "I killed him," Sprague echoed, though Ren wasn''t sure he had heard Larson.


    "Can you describe how you killed Ashley Baok?" Larson had asked again. He waved his hand again, this time with more force.


    Kristin paled and covered his mouth with his hand. He looked like he was about to vomit.


    "You guys should leave," the officer had whispered. "We can take it from here. You don''t need to hear this."


    "Come here," Ferris murmured to Kristin.


    He put his hand on Kristin''s shoulder. The officer softly opened the door and Ferris led Kristin outside. Zip followed close behind, as did Charlie.


    Ren glanced back at Sprague one more time.


    "He followed me," Ren had heard Sprague say as they left the house and walked into the courtyard.


    xxxx


    But now, Charlie stalked around on the grass, face a dark scowl and steps falling in something like firm punctuation. Ferris didn''t follow as she paced around. Kristin watched the window with an expression as glowering as Charlie''s.


    Officers stood near the cars, though none sat down. All remained ready should Larson or anyone call. No one approached the former SFPU.


    "They''d better find something," Kristin said.


    "They..." Zip paused as officers moved within the house. "Th-they will."


    Ren couldn''t see Sprague since the television blocked their view, but they guessed he hadn''t moved.


    "How can you know?" Kristin asked, throwing his head to the side and running a hand through his hair.


    Zip shrugged. "They aren''t-. They''re not gonna give-give up. And I... we''re not gonna let-let it go. We''ll catch the Trinity. Er-. Uh, the Moonfall Precinct will."


    "I''ll drink to that," Kristin muttered. He kicked a pinecone and it skittered across the stones of the courtyard. "But I mean, he''s just in there. Sprague''s not talking. Or, well, I mean, he is talking but not really. Can''t he just spit it out? Can''t he just say everything if he knows something and then just tell them it all and then they can go piece it all together and then Larson and Asa and Azrael and everyone can then go arrest the Trinity and then they can go to trial and then get slammed with a thousand charges and then-."


    "Breathe, Kristin," Ren said.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    "I know." Kristin sat down, picking up a stick and breaking it into pieces as he spoke. "Gotta stay calm, gotta keep it together, and gotta remember that it takes time so the right people can be caught. Wish it wouldn''t take so long. Wish I could just get answers so maybe it''ll hurt a little less, even though I know that''s never gonna happen. Am I ever going to stop wishing I could''ve just gone out into the Forest that night so I could''ve done something?"


    "I don''t know," Ferris murmured, sitting down beside Kristin. "It''s different for everyone, of course, but I haven''t. I lost my fathers in a way very different from Ashley, but I still wish I would''ve been there at that intersection because maybe I could''ve stopped that crash. I don''t really know, though. I don''t know if you''ll ever stop wishing you could''ve been there. I don''t know."


    Ferris''s words hung in the air.


    Ren knew he was right. Who really knew? There could be no easy answers and nothing simple when it came to losing a friend and a brother. But Ren hoped that getting answers and holding those responsible accountable might help in some way. Perhaps it would bring a bit of closure.


    The group fell into silence, each settling down a short distance from the others. No one knew what to say as they waited for answers about Sprague.


    Ren pulled their knees to their chest and focused on the dogs'' house. They would have to work the dogs at some point during the day, but that could wait until after the Moonfall Precinct finished.


    Ren replayed the last time they had seen Ashley. They were there that morning as Ashley bustled about the kitchen, humming along to some made-up tune as he scrambled eggs and added in veggies, much to Charlie''s chagrin. They''re green, Ashley! she had protested, to which Ashley replied that they wouldn''t hurt her. That morning was like every other¡ª full of the usual laughter and teasing, talking about what had to be done for the day, planning out who would take what tasks. Asking when Ashley thought he would likely be back, although he never would return.


    Ren wished they could go back and keep him from ever walking out the front door, now knowing that when it shut was the last time they would ever see him alive.


    "Thank you for calling us."


    Ren snapped back to reality and turned around to see Sedge Valentine walking toward them and the group. Everyone stood up quickly, and Ren focused their attention on Sedge.


    Sedge had several inches on Ren, and his lanky frame made him seem even taller. His dark brown hair had been brushed to the side, and his uniform was devoid of any wrinkles.


    "Of course," Ren replied. "I don''t know what Sprague knows, but I hope you can get more information."


    Sedge nodded. "I hope so as well, but we are taking it one step at a time. We are talking with Sprague, and we will go from there."


    "Can''t you tell us anything?" Charlie bit out.


    Sedge didn''t look terribly surprised. Ren wondered how many times he had been asked a similar question.


    Charlie rolled her eyes. "Or at least react in some way? Do you even have any emotions?"


    A soft, sympathetic look spread across Sedge''s face. "I apologize, but I cannot say very much. Partly because I do not know a great deal myself. We are still investigating the potential lead in Sprague Fetch. The last thing I want to do is give false information, and I also do not want to jeopardize the case. But as soon as I can share anything, I will."


    "What are you doing here if you cannot tell us anything?" Kristin asked.


    "I wanted to offer my thanks for calling us, and it also seemed that perhaps you could use a little company." Sedge glanced over at the officers who remained by the Precinct vehicles. "They''re friendly but they don''t often interact with others beyond arresting them in these situations."


    "You can stay here, if you''d like," Ferris said.


    "Very well," Sedge replied. "Let me know if you would like me to leave at any time. I don''t want to make you uncomfortable in what I can only imagine is the worst time of your life."


    "At least you''re not pretending to know," Charlie grumbled as she sat back down.


    "I do not know what it is like to lose someone to murder," Sedge said, "but I do know what it is like to lose someone. That pain never completely goes away, and it can eat you up. And I can only imagine what it''s like for you right now."


    Charlie flinched. "Oh, sorry. Sucks losing someone."


    "Who did you lose, if you don''t mind me asking?" Kristin asked, voice growing hoarse.


    Sedge tilted his head to the side. A few moments passed by before he spoke. "I lost my sister. Her name was Saffron. Saffron Valentine. She drowned about five years ago. She was the best sister I could''ve ever asked for."


    Kristin eyed Sedge with an even expression, and something seemed to click in his gaze, but before he could respond, Sprague walked out of the NYTE house.


    Sprague walked with his shoulders hunched, and Larson followed close behind.


    "I''m really sorry," Sprague said, focusing on Kristin as he followed Larson to one of the Moonfall Precinct cars.


    Kristin swallowed and looked at Sprague with an expression that Ren knew was just barely holding back tears.


    Sprague paused, eyes watery as he spoke: "I... I''m sorry I killed Ashley Baok, but he followed me. I was trying to will him not to and then I could say he wouldn''t come and wouldn''t lie since he always knew, but he followed. I-I''m sorry."


    Sprague climbed into the back seat of the car, body curling in on itself. He looked like a popped balloon.


    Ren let their gaze wander over where Sprague had walked. He had admitted to murder several times, which Ren knew, and yet he seemed to just want to disappear. Not in a way of running from what he had done, but instead in the way of sorrow.


    Why would you feel sorrow? Ren thought. You could have chosen otherwise.


    Although Ren knew they would wait for Larson and the Moonfall Precinct to reach a conclusion on what Sprague might have known and if he had truly killed Ashley. They knew they couldn''t handle getting caught up in believing so firmly that Sprague was the one for anything to be determined otherwise and the fallout from that. But they hoped they didn''t have to wait long. Nothing could bring back Ashley, but they wanted to know, to be able to see who was responsible, to be able to look them in the eye and find whatever semblance of peace they could so they could start trying to figure out how they would live without Ashley.


    Kristin started trembling at Sprague''s words, shaking his head and backing up a step, and Charlie wrinkled her nose. Ren furrowed their eyebrows and squinted at the car.


    Larson got into the passenger seat, while another officer got into the driver''s seat and turned the car on. It rumbled to life and turned around in the courtyard.


    One by one, the Moonfall Precinct cars left the camp. Zip closed the gate after the last car left, and it rattled shut. Silverlight Forest swallowed up the officers and Sprague, and then everything fell silent.


    xxxx


    Soon, they were left alone.


    "I''m going to my room. Don''t bother me unless it''s an emergency or someone has something on Ashley," Kristin muttered. His footsteps fell heavy and he let the front door slam shut behind him.


    Zip watched the front door for a few moments, then turned away. "Do you... do you think he-he did it?" he murmured.


    "Sprague?" Charlie asked.


    Zip nodded.


    She shrugged. "Dunno. I mean, I always thought Ashley''s killers would look a little more... you know, killer-y and a little less sad puppy. But ain''t one to judge. If he did it, he did it and I don''t give a damn what he looks like. Can act however the hell he wants, but if he''s guilty then he''s guilty. But dunno right now. Unless Larson and Asa and everyone can prove it in court, it doesn''t really count. At least, not in any official manner."


    "I don''t know either," Ferris said. "I do not feel like I can say absolutely no, but I also do not feel that I can give an absolute yes either. Whether or not he had anything to do with Ashley''s murder, I just don''t know what would drive him to come all this way. I want to wait for an official determination from the Moonfall Precinct and Asa and Azrael."


    "I wish I knew," Ren replied. "I don''t know, and I''m not sure what I want. I want answers. I want to know who murdered Ashley, but a part of me doesn''t want to know. I don''t want it to become that much more real with putting faces to the monsters who did such a thing. A part of me still wants the... the veil of only knowing them as these mysterious beings. A face that''s... human and knowing who did it is what I want, but part of me is scared to know." The words began to pour out of Ren as they voiced their fears. "What if we know some or all of the Trinity? What if they''re someone one of us grew up with? But what if we don''t know them? What if they''re strangers? I don''t know which one would somehow be less bad or make it hurt less seeing the people who did this."


    Charlie sighed. "I don''t know what I want." She flinches, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. "That''s not what I meant. I''m sorry. More, I... I don''t know which would hurt less. If I knew even just one of the Trinity, I''d want to go back in time and stop them. But if I don''t know the Trinity, I''d still want that but I wouldn''t have that stupid personal connection and instead I''d want to know how the hell they went down that road. If Ashley never knew the Trinity, then it would be so impersonal. Even colder than it already was. The Trinity wouldn''t have known what they were taking away."


    Her lip quivered and she shook, glaring at the ground as a tear rolled down her cheek.


    "Don''t... think the-the Trinity cared," Zip grumbled. He hid his face in the crook of his arm wrapped around his knees he had pulled to his chest.


    "Wanna make them care." Charlie wrinkled her nose in a glower. "But if they took Ashley''s life I don''t think they ever will." She groaned, kicking her leg out and sending a stone bouncing across the courtyard. "I need a break. I''m going on a walk. Don''t worry, Dipper, I won''t go far. Just need to be alone for a bit and away from people. I''ll stay close to camp though."


    xxxx


    Ren made their way across the courtyard into the dogs'' house as the group dispersed. Ferris went back into the house, and Zip walked over to his workshop.


    Ren heard the scrabble of nails on the floor as they opened the door. Somnus greeted them with a wide smile and a tail wagging in a blur. Pyxis offered bright eyes and a swishing tail and Morpheus an even, grey stare and a slight head tilt.


    "Hey, dogs," Ren murmured.


    They changed the dogs'' water bowls and then entered Morpheus''s pen.


    "Stand," Ren said. He complied, and Ren crouched by his side to look at the wound from Pyr Iskie. They carefully examined it for any signs of infection or healing improperly, but it held none. Baby hairs grew around it, and Ren felt he would make a full recovery and be able to continue his career as a working dog, if the SFPU ever continued again.


    Ren stood back up and let the dogs out of their pens and then outside. The dogs bounded around on the grass, stretching their legs, and Ren gave a silent apology for it taking so long for them to get any true exercise. The dogs'' runs provided some ability to move, but not like they each needed.


    Somnus and Pyxis chased each other all around, nipping and wrestling with Morpheus trotting a short distance behind, and Ren knew none had been getting the full exercise and stimulation they each needed. They needed the work tracking through Silverlight Forest after criminals offered, and they hadn''t gotten that since the day Ren and the others found out about Ashley''s murder.


    Maybe I should have gotten someone else to take care of the dogs, Ren thought, although they knew the effort they had put into training the dogs. Somehow, it felt like it would be a failure to give the dogs to someone else, even for a little while, despite how much they cared about the dogs'' wellbeing. If they could not give the dogs a proper life, they would find someone who could. But Ren didn''t want to lose someone else they cared about.


    They didn''t want to say goodbye again.


    Ren worked with the dogs, having each perform a series of commands. Sit, stand, left, right, and having the dogs run as if they were tracking a real person. Ren had the dogs follow verbal commands and hand signals, and somewhere along the line, they felt the dogs begin to relax. Soon, they did too.


    Ren could still give the dogs what they needed, and they would find a way to continue to do so. The dogs could be their outlet, and they would focus on the dogs'' training while they figured out their path forward for finding answers about what happened to Ashley. Whatever their future looked like could come later, but they first needed answers. They needed to know, no matter how much it may hurt.


    And with Sprague Fetch talking with Larson and the Moonfall Precinct, Ren felt some small flicker of hope in their chest. Maybe answers would finally come.

 Eidolon - Chapter 7 - Cynthia Corville - Lazarus

    Chapter 7


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Cynthia Corville''s day could be going significantly better. A lot better. Far better.


    Breakfast hadn''t gone well and she kept getting interrupted with people asking her opinion on one thing or another or asking for her help or for her to sign something. She didn''t mind, not really, but sometimes she wished for some echo of a peaceful meal, though she knew Presidents didn''t get that.


    And now she stood in her office gathering up a notepad, pen, and the documents of papers she had assembled the night before. Cynthia put on a mask of her own since the meeting room had limited space and many people. She exited the President''s Room and walked down to the meeting rooms.


    The meeting to discuss the disease and factor in new recommendations from researchers into government plans and action wasn''t supposed to start for about another ten minutes, but Cynthia didn''t want to be late. Early would never hurt.


    She walked into the room, greeted by the now-familiar sight of the long table with chairs spaced out as much as possible and the scent of disinfectant. Except that she saw Gabriella and Delta on either side of the table. The two stared each other down, frozen and tense. Gabriella looked angry with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes glowing with dark obsidian. Delta looked annoyed, head tilted, lip curled, and hair expertly styled messily falling into his eyes as he scoffed but held her gaze.


    "What happened here?" Cynthia asked.


    "Delta asked me on yet another date," Gabriella replied without turning away from Delta. Her mask matched her green dress.


    "It was just an offer for a date," Delta said. He did not wear a mask.


    "No, it wasn''t," Gabriella quickly said.


    "What was it, then?" Cynthia asked.


    "Delta tried to corner me." Gabriella glared at him, and Cynthia saw her hands tremble beneath the table but she clenched them into fists. Her eyes darkened further.


    "Come on," Delta grumbled. "It wasn''t like that! I just wanted a date!"


    "I said no, Delta. I do not want to go on a date with you, just like I have said time and time again, and you got pushy," Gabriella replied.


    Delta rolled his eyes. "Sue me for asking a hot woman out on a date! What''s the harm? I just wanted to do something fun tonight. You know, mess around and see where the night takes us? What''s the big deal? All I did was ask." He leaned forward, forearm on the table and chin propped up on his fist. "Come on, Gabby. It''s just one date. Who knows, you might even like me."


    Gabriella didn''t react and didn''t break away from his gaze. Cynthia wasn''t certain she had blinked.


    Cynthia took a slow breath, calming the sizzling anger brewing within her. As much as the idea tempted her, she couldn''t react with rage. She had to keep a level head. No decision could be made in anger.


    Even still, she knew she had to get Delta out. He would retaliate, most certainly, but Cynthia couldn''t find it within herself to care in the moment. She wanted Delta gone, and she could see through Gabriella''s anger the long-standing pain and frustration Gabriella felt. Cynthia had to at least try. She didn''t want to keep waiting. She couldn''t keep waiting.


    Cynthia turned to Delta. "Get out," she said. "Leave this building and do not return."


    "What?" Delta asked, standing up out of his chair like it had caught fire.


    "Get out," Cynthia repeated, pointing toward the door.


    "Why?" Delta jerked back, pulling his hand from the back of the chair like he''d been burned.


    "Because you have to ask me why," Cynthia started, but Gabriella interrupted.


    "Because you can''t take no as the complete and final answer it is. You always need some further reason beyond a no. You never listen, Delta. You do not respect me, and I doubt you do others." Anger burned in Gabriella''s brown eyes.


    "Someone who cannot listen to and respect another saying no does not deserve to be in office and should not be trusted with the weight of running a country," Cynthia said. She readjusted her mask when it started to bunch in her eyes.


    "You hate Harold. Why haven''t you kicked him out?" Delta protested.


    "I might disagree with him on virtually every opinion we have on what the best Waverwell looks like, but I do not have the same distrust with him that I do you. He will listen if he hears no. Get out, Delta Bass." Cynthia pointed to the door again, stepping back so he had room to walk by.


    Delta''s expression darkened into a scowl. "You can''t do that."


    Cynthia didn''t flinch. "Yes, I can. As President of Waverwell, I have the power to remove anyone from office with the proper reason to. I am removing you for you inability to take no for an answer. Gabriella is not the only one you have gotten pushy with. You tried with me before I got engaged with Charlotte."


    "It can be overturned by a majority vote from the rest of the officials."


    Cynthia knew that was true. "But only if it is determined there was not proper reasoning behind the removal," she added, then continued: "Leave, Delta Bass. You can leave on your own right now, or I can call for officers to escort you out, whichever you''d prefer."


    Delta hesitated for a moment, before turning to send a withering glare at Gabriella, who didn''t react. He stalked out the door, but before he crossed the threshold, he looked over his shoulder. "This isn''t over, Mrs. President Corville."


    Cynthia held back an eye roll at his mocking tone.


    "Leave, Delta. You will be hearing from someone at the Waverwell government building within twenty-four hours about your official removal from your position. And no, you will not be able to keep this out of the press. It will be public knowledge, as they have a right to know."


    xxxx


    Cynthia waited until Delta''s footsteps faded before sitting down at the head of the table and exhaling, then drawing in a gasping breath. She buried her face in her hands and tried to slow the racing beat of her heart.


    "What did I just do," she whispered.


    She knew she should have waited until she had an airtight case. As close to a guarantee as she could get.


    Gabriella''s hand on her shoulder broke Cynthia from her mind and brought her back to reality.


    "I''m sorry," Cynthia said. "I shouldn''t have assumed. I should''ve asked you. It was an impulse and I just couldn''t not do anything. I''m sorry, Gabriella."


    Gabriella stayed quiet long enough that Cynthia looked out from her hands.


    "I''m not sorry you did that, Cynthia," Gabriella replied, shifting in her chair and adjusting the ruffles on her dress. "I''m glad he''s gone, and I will help you make that permanent. Delta will almost certainly take this to court, and I will testify against him."


    "I appreciate that," Cynthia murmured.


    "I need to be working toward something with Delta. I need to be making sure he doesn''t come back." Gabriella paused, biting her lip as she took a shaky breath. "I wish he knew how to take a no."


    "I do, too. But I don''t know that he ever will."


    "How did he ever make it here? He added nothing."


    Cynthia scoffed, shrugging her shoulders and lacing her fingers on the table. "Money, I''m sure. A few posts on Muse, probably. A parent or both calling in favors. I don''t know." She turned to Gabriella. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?"


    Gabriella waved a hand. "No, I''m ok."


    "What''s going on here?" Harold asked.


    Cynthia had entirely forgotten about the meeting for the disease in her decision to remove Delta. She ran her hands over her face, fixed the ear loops of her mask, gave herself half a moment to compose herself, and then stood up and turned around.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Harold stood in the doorway with Linda right behind him. He wore a green tweed suit that made his skin look sickly. Linda wore a pinstripe suit, black and white lines so close they blurred together. Both wore a simple surgical mask, and Linda pinched the nose wire on hers.


    "Hello," Cynthia said, hoping her voice didn''t sound as strained as she felt. "The meeting will not be happening. My apologies for the very late notice. We will be rescheduling for an undetermined time in the future."


    Harold peered into the room. "Why? What happened? And where''s Delta?"


    "Delta will not be joining us again. He is being removed from Waverwell government permanently."


    Linda frowned. "Why?"


    Gabriella appeared at Cynthia''s side. "He got pushy asking for a date yet again." Gabriella''s voice was rough, grating, filled with frustration.


    Harold''s eyebrows raised up high. Linda looked less surprised.


    "Oh," Harold said.


    "Delta will not be a government official again in any capacity, so it will be us four from now on," Cynthia said.


    xxxx


    Cynthia left the dining room after an uneventful lunch that tasted like sand. She got the meal down, though, and she figured that''s what counted¡ª she ate.


    A part of her wanted the day to be over so she could just go to bed, cuddle up with Charlotte, and wake up the next day ready to conquer. She wanted to wash her face and try to rinse off the sweat and the scattered emotions she had felt that already left her drained.


    Cynthia walked through the main lobby of the Waverwell government building, talking with Seven and asking him to lend a hand with fully removing Delta from his official position.


    "You removed him?" Seven echoed.


    Cynthia nodded. "Yes."


    "Oh, wow. I don''t remember that ever being done. I mean, I knew it could be done, but... I didn''t think it would ever happen."


    Cynthia did, although it happened when she was a child. An official had lied about their background and when it later came to light, they had been removed. Cynthia doubted Seven had even been born then¡ª she was over twice his age.


    "It doesn''t happen very often, thankfully," she replied.


    They walked through the entrance to the government building, taking the long way back to Cynthia''s office so Cynthia could try to calm some of the restless energy she had.


    Tile covered the floor in an intricate pattern, and towering columns supported an arching ceiling two stories high. A massive glass chandelier hung in a dazzling array of twinkling sparkles. Officers dotted the lobby, and Cynthia knew more waited outside. A handful of people bustled about, many Cynthia recognized and a few she didn''t.


    Just as Cynthia and Seven crossed into the middle of the lobby, a figure stumbled through the main doors, head down. They staggered a few steps before tripping over their feet and slumping to the ground, limbs twisted as they fell at an awkward angle.


    Several officers wearing heavy armor and holding guns flooded in after the figure, who started to try to get their arms beneath them.


    Acting on instinct since something just felt off, Cynthia raised a hand and they stopped, but they still held their weapons, guns loaded and cocked though none held their finger on the trigger.


    "Who are you?" Cynthia asked, trying to put her finger on why the person looked familiar.


    "I ran," the person said, voice distant and wandering. Their gaze trailed across everything and nothing at the same time, dazed and blank. "I ran and I didn''t stop running."


    As they sat up, Cynthia got a better look at them. Curly, frizzy hair fell in tangled mats. Their T-shirt and pants stained dark bore holes and rips, and one long tear revealed the person''s ribcage and a lengthy red gash. Scratches and wounds littered their pale skin, and Cynthia saw gnarled red rings around their wrists and ankles.


    The person looked familiar, and Cynthia narrowed her eyes, until she drew in a sharp breath.


    "Who are you?" she repeated, seeking confirmation.


    The person swayed where they knelt on the ground.


    More officers had arrived, wearing the same black armor, ushering everyone else out and forming a ring around the perimeter.


    Cynthia leaned into Seven. "He has likely already been notified and is on his way, but please call Larson Hotch."


    Seven nodded and scurried away.


    An officer approached Cynthia to bring her back, and she followed when the person didn''t respond.


    "Felix," the person said a moment later. "I''m Felix Fisk."


    "Felix Fisk?" Cynthia echoed, pausing and turning around. She shrugged off the officer''s gentle but firm hand, and they murmured a soft but firm Mrs. President when she didn''t continue back to behind the line of officers.


    "Yes, I am Felix Fisk," he replied.


    He blinked several times as he started to crumble to the ground, but he shook his head and snapped back upright, putting out a hand to steady himself.


    He looked like a walking corpse. He looked dead. And maybe because Cynthia had been clinging to hope that Felix was ok. That no one had found a body and therefore maybe, even though the odds said he was likely dead and it was a recovery rather than a rescue. Even though the Trinity had likely killed him and no one had found his body just yet. Maybe because of the hope she hung onto when she wasn''t even sure she really should still have it Felix looked like a ghost.


    "Prove it," an officer demanded. "Prove you are Felix Fisk."


    He looked in their general direction before looking back at the ground.


    "I don''t have any identification," he murmured, voice hoarse and gravely. "The Trinity took everything I had on me. But they abducted me a block from the Morning Jitters." He paused. "Well, they didn''t but they were there. Officers were following me but I didn''t see them and I got taken before officers could step in. It was very subtle and way too fast for me to react. I was told to walk and I heard a threat against Freya and then I felt a knife on my back when I tried to stop."


    An officer radioed for more backup and an ambulance, as well as for heightened patrols across Corville.


    "You say the Trinity did not abduct you?"


    The officer trying to pull Cynthia away attempted to do so again, and she conceded in moving back behind the lines of officers but refused to remove herself from the lobby.


    "Please, Mrs. President Corville. It''s for your safety. Just until we know what''s going on. You''re the President."


    "That''s Felix."


    "We haven''t confirmed anything yet. You''re the President. Your safety must come first."


    Cynthia twisted out of the officer''s soft grip. She held out her hands. "Please, I assure you that''s Felix Fisk. I''ve stared at his picture for a long time, and it''s him."


    The person surely named Felix drew in a ragged breath. "The Trinity did, but they did not bring me away from waiting at the crosswalk. The Eidolon did." Felix paused, before scanning the crowd and finding Cynthia. "Where is Freya? I need to see her."


    "She can meet you at the hospital. Last I heard, she''s with Larson Hotch and the Moonfall Precinct."


    "No." Felix shook his head and tried to get to his feet. He braced his hands on the ground but only managed to get one foot beneath him before he shook and fell. "I need to see Freya. Where is my sister? Where is Freya?"


    "She can meet you at the hospital," an officer said, approaching Felix and crouching by his side.


    Felix panted for breath, and with every exhale he looked more and more exhausted, like it was slowly setting in as adrenaline began to wear off.


    Cynthia refused to leave, despite several officers gently pressuring her to do so. She wouldn''t get any work done. How could she when someone who knew so much on the Trinity, but more than that a person lay just a floor below her? She might not be able to do much, but she couldn''t leave. She had to try to help in whatever way she could.


    Paramedics arrived a minute later, followed by Larson and a few Moonfall Precinct officers. Azrael tailed them.


    "Where is Freya?" Felix asked as Larson drew closer, attempting to move away from the paramedics who approached with all of their gear and a wheeled stretcher.


    "Asa Smith is bringing her to the hospital. You can meet her there." Larson hung back. He eyed the ring of officers surrounding Felix. "And can whoever''s in charge here clear at least two-thirds of the officers here? This is Felix Fisk. He''s not a threat. He needs medical attention, and they''re probably making him nervous."


    An officer stepped forward, boots heavy on the ground and expression intense. "Our priority is the President and the other Waverwell government officials."


    Larson nodded. "I know, and I''m not questioning that. I''m aware the President comes first. But I am telling you that Felix is not a threat."


    "You know who he is?" The officer jerked their head toward Felix.


    "I do," Larson replied.


    "Very well," the officer said. "I will leave some officers here until Felix is gone." They waved a hand above their head in a signal, and most of the Waverwell government officers dispersed.


    Cynthia stayed off to the side to give the paramedics plenty of room to work. She also didn''t know if she could stomach seeing Felix''s injuries up close.


    The paramedics had Felix lay down as they asked him questions and started taking his vitals.


    "Stop it," he said.


    "We will bring you to Freya as soon as we can," one of the paramedics replied.


    "I''m fine... don''t need help. I need to-." Felix paused as he caught his breath. He tried to rise up onto his elbows but fell. "I need to see Freya a-and then talk with Larson or Asa or Azrael."


    "Why don''t you talk with one of them while we check you out?" one of the paramedics offered, clearly looking for a way to get Felix to cooperate.


    Felix grumbled a short fine.


    Larson waved Azrael over.


    She approached, kneeling beside Felix but far enough away that she didn''t get in the way of the paramedics. She wore a long coat that scrunched up as she folded herself to the ground. She brushed a chunk of her red hair back over her shoulder and readied her notepad.


    "Hello, Felix," she said. "I''m Azrael Smith, in case you don''t remember me."


    "Where is Freya? I want to see her."


    Cynthia turned away for a moment when she caught a glimpse of a bruise that covered most of Felix''s stomach.


    "Asa is bringing her to the hospital. You can see Freya there."


    Felix didn''t reply but tried to crane his neck to look at Azrael, though the paramedics told him to please not move.


    "The... Trinity got me," he said a moment later.


    "How?" Azrael asked.


    Cynthia flinched when Larson placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to one of the decorative benches along the walls of the lobby. No one really ever used them, but she did now and was grateful they were there.


    "Since I know you won''t be leaving," Larson murmured as he walked back closer.


    "I..." Felix took a deep breath. "The crosswalk before Morning Jitters. The Eidolon threatened Freya. Made me... walk away and put a knife to my back." Felix groaned, flashing his teeth as the paramedics cleaned and bandaged up a wound on his leg. He tried to move away but they held him still.


    "The Eidolon?"


    Cynthia hadn''t caught it before Azrael echoed it, but she perked up.


    "He works with them."


    "The Eidolon works with the Trinity?" Azrael asked.


    Felix hummed an affirmation. "Yes."


    "You''ve got about one more question," one of the paramedics said, gathering up supplies while the other readied Felix for transport.


    "How did you escape?"


    Felix didn''t respond for several moments.


    "The Trinity was-. was fighting," he said after a while. "I think the Eidolon... he was getting up to some stuff the Trinity didn''t like. I think their... alliance, for lack of a-of a better word was pretty rocky. They were all bickering and stuff, and then I escaped when they weren''t downstairs. Little window in the basement. Broke free and climbed... out. Don''t know why they left me alone, but I didn''t stop running."


    "You''ll have to finish this later," a paramedic said as they secured Felix onto the stretcher and fastened everything in place.


    Just before the paramedics wheeled him away, though, Felix waved his hand to get Azrael''s attention, although she was already looking at him.


    "One more thing," he said, "the Eidolon''s name is Lazarus."

 Eidolon - Chapter 8 - Charlie Springs - Twiddling Our Thumbs

    Chapter 8


    CHARLIE SPRINGS


    Charlie Springs pulled her blanket a little tighter around her shoulders, snuggling in as she stared at her door.


    Just in front of the doorway lay the letter her parents had sent her. Wrapped in a neat envelope of thick parchment with a wax seal of the rose her parents bought after her birth, Beverley''s neat, looping cursive spelled out her given name: Rose Hendricks. Charlie hadn''t bothered to open it and instead threw it to the ground, then crawled into bed. She didn''t want to know what her parents wrote or read what she knew would be cutting sentences filled with sharp words.


    Charlie scowled at it, wishing she could burn a hole straight through it with her eyes and watch it burn. But when looking at the letter made her too angry, she rose up and flopped over onto her other side. Sunlight streamed through the window above her, and she squinted, pressing her face into her pillow. A bird chirped outside her window on a nearby tree. A part of her hated the sound¡ª how dare the bird sing such a pretty song when her world had stopped with Ashley''s death and how her parents trying to pull her under just like they did her whole childhood. But the world would just keep on spinning.


    Beverley and Richmond showed up in the aftermath of the Waverwell News interview. Right after Charlie''s tongue got ahead of her mind and she made that stupid claim about Leviathan Inc. and the disease. She had no proof. Right after she did what they had told her over and over and over not to¡ª to not speak without thinking her words through, to not let her impulsivity get the best of her.


    Why did they have to show up as soon as I messed up? Did they somehow know?


    Charlie closed her eyes, but when she did, all she saw were the faces of Beverley and Richmond, all harsh angles, cold eyes, and biting words she could never seem to fully shake off. She pulled her blankets tighter over her shoulders until she felt the squeeze and brought her knees to her chest. She bared her teeth when her eyes stung from the memories of the fights, how she could never relax at home, how she knew who was walking from the sound of their footsteps and whether or not they were angry, how she knew where everyone was in the house, how she made sure to always be doing something acceptable whenever her parents came near her room.


    Charlie had kept up the habit for the first several months of the SFPU and still sometimes found herself lying about what she was really doing on occasion. She hated lying to her friends, especially when she knew they wouldn''t care.


    Now, Charlie knew she had likely spent at least an hour in bed, probably more. Her sense of time was virtually non-existent, but she didn''t have to look at a clock to know she had wasted so much of her day. She could''ve done something productive, but instead she had folded herself up into a burrito with her blankets and laid in bed for so long.


    She glared at the wall as a wave of frustration and fury reared up inside her, all jagged scales and sharp spines.


    Even now Beverley and Richmond still held control over her, the one thing Charlie had vowed to never let happen again the night she left home in Corville. Their fingernails still dug deep into her flesh like a leash. They still loomed over her shoulder, leaning in close for when she made a mistake.


    Charlie wondered if she was letting down the kid who could never recognize her reflection in the mirror.


    I''m sorry, she whispered to the kid. I''m so sorry.


    xxxx


    "Charlie?" Ren asked, knocking on her door.


    She grumbled when they knocked again. "What?"


    "They found Felix."


    Charlie stared at her wall, mind working over the sentence. "What?" she eventually replied.


    Surely Ren was wrong. Surely she misheard them, or maybe they misunderstood or misspoke.


    "Felix has been found," Ren repeated. "There''s a segment on Waverwell News that goes over the details. We wanted to see if you''d like to join us to watch it."


    Charlie rolled over, kicking off her blankets. "Yeah, I''m coming. Be out in just a sec."


    Apparently not, she thought to herself. Apparently Ren was right.


    She sat up in bed and ran a hand through her hair. She heard Ren presumably walk back to the living area, then heard their voice murmur what Charlie assumed was that she''d be there soon.


    Charlie tried to guess how Felix had been found. If he had escaped or was rescued. How he managed to survive the Trinity. If he had truly been captured by the Trinity. What exactly happened.


    Some part of her wondered why he had survived and Ashley hadn''t. Why Ashley had to die and Felix didn''t.


    She felt guilty for thinking that. She should be happy Felix was alive.


    And she was. She was happy. She was happy Felix was alive.


    But she wished for the millionth time that Ashley could still somehow be alive even though she knew that wasn''t true and never would be.


    Charlie made herself get up. If she couldn''t have a productive day, she could at least do something and see if Felix was ok. Or at least as ok as he really could be.


    She hated that she couldn''t have any sort of dramatic reaction and instead felt very little. She didn''t know what Felix had been forced to endure and couldn''t imagine it. The bare minimum was feeling relived he was alive. Instead, Charlie just felt numb, and maybe that made her a terrible person.


    Inside her chest was a yawning void of darkness, filled with years worth of exhaustion and pain that built up, pushed to a breaking point by her best friend''s murder and her parents returning.


    Charlie stepped on the letter as she walked out of her bedroom, digging her toes into the neat cursive of Beverley''s handwriting and twisting her foot. The envelope crinkled and creased. Beverley and Richmond would never know, but it made Charlie feel a little better so she didn''t care.


    Ferris moved over on the couch to make space for her. Ren sat on the far side, and Zip twisted a piece of wire around his finger beside Kristin. The two had dragged stools from the kitchen to sit on.


    "You ok?" Ferris asked as Charlie approached.


    "Fine."


    "Is that a let-," Ferris started, looking past Charlie and into her room, where the door was ajar and the letter was visible.


    "Don''t even think about it." Charlie inhaled sharply, then threw her head to the side and flashed her teeth. "Sorry, that was rude."


    Ferris shrugged. "You''re stressed. It''s fine."


    "It''s not."


    "I''m not angry." Ferris''s expression was so neutral it annoyed Charlie. He didn''t look irritated in the slightest, the complete opposite of Charlie''s bubbling frustration.


    "I never said you were," Charlie ground out, falling into an all-too familiar habit of automatically arguing. She paused, taking a breath and forcing herself to think things through. "Sorry," she repeated.


    "It''s fine. Ready to watch?"


    "Go for it," Charlie sighed, settling down beside him and scooping a pillow off the couch to hold to her chest. She squeezed it to provide some sort of release for her emotions.


    xxxx


    Ferris hit play on the remote, and the screen showed Shaheena Driscoll and Jaymes Haverfield in the studio of Waverwell News.


    "Breaking News from Corville," Jaymes said. "Felix Fisk has been found alive after his capture by the Trinity."


    The video cut to a street view of the Waverwell government building in its elaborate design.


    "Felix Fisk showed up to the government building yesterday afternoon, where he was then taken to the Corville Medical Center. We do not yet have confirmation on Felix''s condition, although sources say he is awake and talking with detec-."


    Charlie grabbed the remote and hit pause. She leaned back on the couch, holding the remote in her hands, and frowning at the tv. Ren turned their attention to her, watching over Ferris''s shoulder, and the rest of the group did the same. None seemed annoyed, instead just waiting for her to speak.


    "What are we even doing?" Charlie snarled once the silence became too much and she just had to fill it, had to say something so it didn''t prickle at her skin so much and drag words from within her she didn''t want to say.


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    "What?" Zip looked alarmed and Charlie felt guilty, but she also felt too angry to stop.


    "We don''t even know," she continued, the words pouring from within her. "We''re not doing anything useful. We''re just sitting around here. We''re currently watching tv. We can''t tell the detectives anything cuz we don''t know anything. All we can tell them is what Ashley was like and what does that do? We don''t know why he died or who killed him. We''re relying on others to say stuff but we don''t know who they are or if they''re lying. Who knows anything and we can''t even tell anyone stuff cuz we just have no goddamn clue. We''re just sitting around twiddling our thumbs when Ashley''s dead and his killers are still out there."


    No one said anything, and a part of Charlie wished she could pull the words back into herself, take them back.


    "I feel the same way," Kristin eventually said. "I wish I could do more, too. The camp feels like a dreamland of sorts. Protected, disconnected, but also still so close to Ashley. I wish I could give Larson all the answers, but I don''t know much at all. All I can say is who Ashley was."


    "Knowing Ashley is helpful," Ren murmured, scratching at a stain on the arm of the couch. "It helps Larson and the detectives an awful lot. They need to know who he is because perhaps there are clues in who he knew and what he normally did."


    "That''s not what I''m tryin'' to say," Charlie grumbled, fiddling with the battery cover of the remote. She pulled it off, then slid it back on, feeling the snap as it clicked back into place. Her foot bounced in a rapid rhythm, a staccato beat for her restless and bubbling energy.


    "What were you trying to say?" Charlie guessed Ren just wanted to fill the space in conversation and offer her a bit more time to gather her thoughts.


    "I know it''s important for them to know who Ashley was and I''ll answer any questions they got, but I wish I could just tell them everything. I want answers. I hate just having to sit here and wait. I want to know. I don''t want to be layin'' around when Ashley''s dead."


    No one spoke for several long minutes.


    "I don''t know what else to do," Ferris murmured. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his chin resting on interlaced fingers. He stared straight ahead, gaze pained and exhausted. "I don''t know what we can do. Our power is in poachers and lies only within Silverlight Forest, and we certainly have no ability or knowledge to investigate a murder, not to mention the major conflict of interest. Larson''s doing his job, as is everyone else working the case. We can answer any more questions they have, let them search anywhere they need to, do whatever they ask, but... I don''t know what else we can do. They''re doing their job, and we don''t know how to do our job. They can get whatever they need, and even if they couldn''t, they can ask President Cynthia."


    "But is just sitting around the right thing to do?" Charlie pressed.


    "What else do you propose we do?" When Ferris saw Charlie begin to narrow her eyes and straighten her spine, he raised a finger and continued. "That''s a genuine question. If you have ideas, I''m all ears, truly."


    Charlie hummed. She looked off to the side for a moment, then shrugged. She flopped back against the couch, hugging the pillow tight to her chest. "We stopped hunting down people in the Forest. No way they''ve just stopped killin'' animals. Precinct can track ''em down, but..." she trailed off, biting her lip. "We promised we''d find them a year ago. Can''t just go back on that promise, ya know?"


    Kristin stared at her, then exhaled. "Ashley got murdered," he said slowly.


    Charlie huffed, curling her lip. "Ain''t like I can just forget that," she mumbled. "But we''ve just been sitting around and flippin'' through everything tryna figure that out, but-." Charlie hissed, gritting her teeth and punching the pillow on her lap before throwing it off to the side as rage filled her veins and burned through her insides.


    "Charlie," Zip started.


    "What?" she tried to keep her voice level but some of her frustration still worked its way into her words. She stood up off the couch and stalked back and forth behind it.


    "The Precinct will... they''ll track poachers for as long as-as we need. How are you going to, uh... find a poacher if-. If you''re dealing with-with Ashley''s... uh... death?"


    "I don''t..." Charlie paused to take a breath. "I don''t..." she paused again. Zip had a point, but she hated the point and how it made sense and she couldn''t argue against it. At best, she''d just fail to capture the poacher. At worst, someone would get hurt. At the very worst, that person getting hurt would be anyone but herself. At the very very worst, the person getting hurt would be one of her friends, in which case she''d never forgive herself. She hated when someone made a point when she was angry that she had to admit made sense.


    She sighed a sigh that sounded more like a growl.


    Ferris handed her the pillow when she settled back down on the couch.


    "How the hell are you all staying so calm? You never get angry. Especially you, Dipper." Charlie jabbed a finger in his direction, and he didn''t look surprised.


    "How honest of an answer would you like?" he asked.


    Charlie squinted at him before responding. "Honest honest."


    "I can only speak for myself on this," Ferris started, shifting on the couch to more fully face her. "But my fathers taught me about feelings and modeled how to deal with them and showed me how to work with my own emotions. From what I know of your childhood, it seems you did not get that. I''m still angry and frustrated and heartbroken and filled with grief, though. There''s no changing that. Ashley was a very close friend, and there''s nothing that can make me not miss him."


    Charlie snorted and rolled her eyes. "No, there was no talking about feelings when I was a kid. Talk back and you went to your room. Cry and you had to stop that. Argue and you had to be quiet and respect your elders. Beverley and Richmond only wanted a kid who had a good attitude. Wanted their perfect little kid. They never talked about feelings. They could yell at me, but it never went the other way." Charlie shook her head. "No wonder you''re dealing with it better."


    Ferris tilted his head to the side. "We show emotion in different ways, Springs. I might have been taught about the crazy thing called feelings, but there isn''t a rulebook for the grief that comes with losing a loved one to anything. You react outwardly and move when dealing with emotions. I do so more internally."


    "You need to... to do something, Charlie," Zip murmured, twisting the piece of wire into a corkscrew. "You''re-you''re like me. Have to... get it out by doing."


    Charlie laughed, the first time she felt any sort of humor in a long time. "Who woulda thought we''d be talkin'' about feelings."


    Kristin smiled. "It''s better than keeping it all inside until someone explodes."


    "Probably woulda been me." Charlie knew it was true.


    "I think it could''ve been any of us," Ren murmured, settling into the couch.


    The group drifted off into silence, broken only by the sound of the birds outside and someone shifting on their seat.


    Charlie twisted the tv remote in her hands, flipping it in circles. She slouched on the couch, nearly horizontal, and rested her head on Ferris''s shoulder. He leaned into her touch.


    "Do you guys think Felix will be ok?" Kristin asked after a few minutes.


    Charlie huffed a laugh. "Physically or mentally?"


    "In general, I suppose," Kristin replied.


    "Physically, probably. Mentally, no way."


    Kristin hummed, looking down at his hands.


    Charlie pushed up from leaning against Ferris and hunched over the arm of the couch. "What are you thinking?"


    "He shouldn''t have had to see that. I should''ve been there with Ashley to be there for him. Felix shouldn''t have had to see that." Kristin''s voice wobbled.


    "And you should''ve seen it?" Charlie asked with a wet laugh that caught in her throat. She knew the answer and she knew Kristin did, too. "Ashley should''ve never been there that night! He should''ve been able to finish the supply run and come home and gone on with his life like he''d done a hundred times before! He never shoulda died! I know you know that."


    "I know..." Kristin trailed off.


    "He''s receiving medical treatment, and I''m sure that includes seeing a psychiatrist," Ren said. "I''m sure he''s getting every bit of medical attention that he needs."


    "I''m sure he is," Ferris replied.


    "I''m going to my room. Don''t come get me unless something''s burning," Charlie muttered.


    She stalked back to her room, and she could feel the weight of Ferris''s gaze on her back but she resisted turning around. She didn''t need to see the look in his eyes, that softness, the lack of judgement she loved most of the time but hated currently.


    When Charlie made it to her room, she closed the door and immediately sank to the ground against it, pulling her knees to her chest and drawing in a gasping breath.


    She knew she was glad Felix was at least alive, even if she couldn''t feel it yet. But she also didn''t know how many more things could happen before her mind snapped.


    Charlie put her hand to her chest to try to slow her thoughts.


    Maybe a nap would help, she thought, eyeing the soft, fuzzy blanket and the thick comforter.


    She scooped up the crinkled letter from Beverley and Richmond and threw it in the trash, hoping that maybe this time Rose Hendricks could stay dead forever.


    xxxx


    Larson showed up the following morning.


    He didn''t even wait until the gate was open and just parked his car outside and hopped out, sliding through the gate as it opened. Instead of his usual uniform, Larson wore clothing that looked far more similar to the SFPU attire Charlie used to wear¡ª durable, pockets and straps to hold any needed equipment, breathable. He wore a bulletproof vest, and his boots were covered in mud with dirt smeared across parts of his clothing and armor. He wiped away a streak of dirt from his greying mustache as he walked across the courtyard.


    "Larson''s here," Ren said, peering out the window by the tv.


    Charlie raised her eyebrows as she ate another bite of toast. Kristin and Ferris looked up from the article they read on Kristin''s phone, and Zip paused in eating his scrambled eggs.


    "Did he call anyone?" Charlie asked. "Didn''t call me."


    Ferris shook his head. "He didn''t contact me either."


    The rest of the group shook their heads as well.


    "Toast can wait, I guess." Charlie stood up and wiped her hands on her thighs.


    Kristin opened the door just as Larson reached the front of the house.


    Charlie and the rest of the group approached in a cautious manner. She didn''t know if Larson had brought anyone else or why he was here¡ª he had not mentioned a visit.


    "Hello, Larson," Ferris greeted. Charlie heard the same apprehension in his voice that she felt.


    "Hello," Larson replied. No one else joined him, and only his car sat just beyond the gate to the camp.


    "What do you... wh-what do you want?" Zip asked.


    Larson inclined his head, eyebrows furrowing as he thought for a moment.


    Charlie straightened her spine and squared her shoulders as she readied herself for whatever was about to be said. Her skin prickled with anticipation.


    "I have a few things I''d like to tell you," Larson started. He took a breath, and Charlie stilled.


    Her mind raced as she tried to fill in the blanks and guess what Larson was going to say, tried to know beforehand and prepare herself to react. But she couldn''t. Her only thought was some world-shattering news like she had received the day she learned of Ashley''s murder. She couldn''t handle that again. She couldn''t hear that again.


    "Well?" Kristin said. His expression was set hard, gaze dark and stance tense, but Charlie saw the beginnings of panic creeping in when she glanced at him. Ren shifted beside her with nervous energy that Charlie felt too. Zip twisted his fingers as he waited.


    "First, did Sprague Fetch ever mention anything about the whistleblower?"


    Charlie thought for a moment, running through every bit of the interaction she had with Sprague. Nothing came to mind and she shook her head. "No, he did not. Why?"


    Larson hummed, though his expression gave away nothing.


    "The main reason I came here, though, is that we have arrested the Trinity."


    Charlie froze, every muscle going taut in an instant. Kristin gasped beside her and stumbled a step.


    There was no way-.


    Larson continued, though his words sounded like they were underwater and a mile away and Charlie could barely hear over the buzzing in her ears and it was a miracle she hadn''t collapsed: "I wanted to be sure to tell you before it broke on the news. Ryzor is telling Kansas Sampson March now as well. I wanted you to hear it from me and that yes, it is true. We have the Trinity in custody. Felix remembered enough about his capture and where he went, and we were able to fit that with what Sprague has told us.


    "We arrested the Trinity in the forests between the Underdown and Cat''s Cradle."

 Eidolon - Chapter 9 - Ashley Baok - Youre Not Subtle

    Chapter 9


    ASHLEY BAOK


    Three Months Ago


    Tuesday


    Dear Diary,


    Remember that time at the beginning of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit when Charlie pulled the first prank? I was just thinking about that recently.


    Charlie made pancakes and accidentally put in the sugar''s worth of salt and the salt''s worth of sugar, so, naturally, the pancakes turned out incredibly salty. She said she did it as a joke, but I''m pretty sure she was lying. I think it was a mistake but she didn''t want to say that. The rest of the SFPU was there and we all went along with it.


    Who woulda known putting in too much salt and not enough sugar would''ve started off the pranks Charlie and I have pulled on each other? The start of a great friendship, too. I''m so glad we''ve been able to be friends.


    Charlie got a letter from her parents yesterday, which made me think of the pancake incident. She didn''t say the letter was from her parents, but I don''t know who else it could be. She''s never mentioned siblings or any other family. She''s said her childhood was good. I don''t doubt that, but the way she talks about her parents. Well, really refuses to and just sidesteps the question or changes the subject altogether. There''s something there.


    Who knows, though. Maybe I''m wrong. I hope I am.


    I guess we''ll see, Diary.


    See ya,


    Ashley Baok


    Friday


    Dear Diary,


    There''s this guy that''s been snooping around Silverlight Forest.


    Zip did some digging and says his name is Pyr Iskie.


    TECHNICALLY, he hasn''t broken any laws so we can''t do anything but we''re keeping an eye on him. A very close one, too. At least as good of an eye as you can keep on someone in a forest with an awful lot of trees and space to cover. Pyr hasn''t yet crossed the border from the public part of the Forest into the private area, but he''s certainly not looking all that innocent. Zip''s Camera Traps set up along the border of the public section of the Forest have caught Pyr pacing along the very edge with what looks like a few snares and some knives.


    Not very subtle are you, Pyr?


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I mean, I hope he doesn''t get up to anything illegal and I certainly hope he doesn''t go after any animals, but I''m not so sure, Diary. We will arrest him if he breaks any laws.


    We''ve caught Pyr a few times over the last few days. In one video caught late evening where it''s already dark ¡ªand, like, come on? Who''s going hiking when it''s dark outside unless you''re up to something? Who''s walking around a forest when you need a flashlight? Sleep and wait for morning. It''ll look a lot less questionable¡ª he''s walking along Myway Highway. I suppose he wanted to shake up his sketchy shenanigans. But Zip''s Camera Traps still caught him with night vision. He''s clearly holding a gun in that video so very much not subtle, which Charlie commented on.


    Ren''s dogs tracked his scent but he has yet to cross into the private part of Silverlight Forest.


    I don''t want him to try anything.


    Hopefully he won''t.


    We will just have to wait and see,


    Ashley Baok


    Friday


    Dear Diary,


    Pyr Iskie has still yet to cross into the protected part of Silverlight Forest.


    I''m actually somewhat surprised. I would''ve thought he would have tried something by now, but it seems not. I suppose even I am wrong, on occasion.


    I mean, I hope he doesn''t try anything, though. I''d rather just keep watch on him forever than have him try anything. It''s not like I enjoy handcuffing someone and driving out to the Moonfall Precinct. I''d be happy to have to find another job. I''d love to tear down the camp and return it and all the trails to their former natural state. It would mean there''s no one trying to harm the wildlife here.


    Maybe I could lead hikes in the public part of Silverlight Forest? I could still see the Forest every day and get to show others its beauty.


    Maybe someday.


    Hopefully someday.


    But anyway, see ya, Diary,


    Ashley Baok


    Monday


    Dear Diary,


    I went on a supply run today.


    It was shorter than usual and I returned on the same day. No finding a spot to sleep for the night to catch a few hours of rest until the sun comes up and dozing. Moonfall is far safer than Cat''s Cradle, but better to be cautious, I suppose. It''s not really that bad. Ferris asked about perhaps finding a way to get supplies delivered, but I told him no. The budget is better spent on things directly related to tracking poachers.


    I''ll still get to sleep tonight, though, and in my own bed, too. Who''da thunk you can sleep better in your own bed, Diary? I''m not on duty, too, which guarantees I won''t have to leave my bed until morning. I don''t mind getting up in the middle of the night to track down a poacher, but I will say... it''s a much better night of rest when you don''t have to get up for an indeterminate amount of time partway through your beauty sleep.


    As I was in the checkout line at one of the stores, I saw a dinosaur hand puppet. It had five parts, one for each finger¡ª a head, two arms, and two legs. So, naturally, I had to get it. Charlie found it hilarious hasn''t taken it off since I gave it to her. I''m pretty sure Zip is figuring out a way to turn it into a moving robot. I think it would be pretty funny.


    It has been a little while since Charlie or I pulled a prank on the other, and I''m thinking it''s about time I get her back for filling the tips of all my shoes with old newspapers so none of them fit. Maybe there''s something there with a dinosaur, but I''ll have to think on it. I''ll get back to you, Diary.


    In the meantime, I''m going to help the group sort through what I got on the supply run and sift through the Camera Trap footage for anything out of the ordinary since Zip''s coding still needs fine-tuning and isn''t perfect. We will see what I find.


    See ya,


    Ashley Baok


    Wednesday


    Dear Diary,


    Pyr Iskie has crossed into Silverlight Forest.


    It seems we''re going hunting for another poacher.


    I will keep you updated,


    Ashley Baok

 Eidolon - Chapter 10 - Cynthia Corville - I Believe You

    Chapter 10


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Cynthia stood in front of her closet and stared at all of her clothes. She had the fancy suits she wore for speaking to the public or important meetings where appearance held more meaning than usual. She had the casual clothes for days where she would spend virtually every hour in her office, although the definition of casual clothes had changed dramatically as President. And then she had a few sweaters she had kept from her time before becoming President, a few cozy sweaters that felt like she had wrapped herself in a soft hug.


    Today felt like a sweater day to Cynthia, and so she pulled her favorite out, a dark purple-grey one made of thick material that hung heavy on her, a comforting kind of weight.


    But the comfort the sweater offered her did not last long.


    xxxx


    Larson Hotch sat opposite Cynthia in the President''s Room, the first time she''d seen him in person since Felix Fisk showed up to the Waverwell government building.


    He wore his Moonfall Precinct uniform, ironed smooth with his name tag level above the breast pocket. His salt and pepper mustache was trimmed short, although he quickly covered his face with a mask as he entered and Cynthia followed suit, adjusting the ear straps until they lay flat.


    Cynthia gestured to the chair in front of her desk, then sat down across from Larson. She picked up her official Presidential pen and readied herself to write notes on the notepad she''d prepared beforehand.


    "The Trinity has been arrested," Larson said as soon as he sat down. A tired smile tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth, but there was no true joy in it and pain flashed across his expression. Dark bags hung beneath his eyes and his shoulders sagged, making him look like he could sleep for a week.


    Relief seeped through every cell in Cynthia''s body, and she felt happy the Trinity was arrested but it soon pitched deep into despair. Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March were both dead, and Cynthia didn''t know what else they may have done. Arrests and charges and convictions couldn''t ever bring back the dead and undo the damage done.


    "You''ve arrested the Trinity?" Cynthia echoed, seeking to hear the words again.


    Larson nodded. "Yes, the Trinity is in custody. We''re keeping all three separate and under constant high-security watch. They will not be escaping."


    Larson''s expression morphed into conviction and dead seriousness.


    "I should hope not." Cynthia internally shuddered at the thought.


    "They will be supervised until the day they die," Larson said, voice firm. "Until they''re in prison ¡ªinnocent until proven guilty and there''s no guarantee of anything until it''s over, of course, but I''m confident in the case and I know we have the right people¡ª they''ll also get protection. It''s on the news now that we''ve arrested them, and people will be angry. I don''t want anyone to make a stupid decision, even though I''d understand the motives on why."


    Cynthia shook her head. She''d understand it too, if someone went after the Trinity.


    "How did you catch them?"


    Larson tilted his head to the side and set an elbow on the arm of his chair. "We caught them in a house in between the Underdown and Cat''s Cradle. A little cabin that was abandoned years ago. No one owned it and so no one was looking for it. Felix Fisk told us what he remembered from his capture, and we fit that with what Sprague Fetch has told us and we have been able to verify. We got there fast enough that we were able to surround them and force a surrender. Thankfully there weren''t any other homes around, but several officers were injured."


    Cynthia perked up as a bolt of concern lanced through her chest. "How are they doing now?"


    "They''re all stable. Doctors expect them to make a full recovery. A few are already asking about returning." Larson smiled for a moment.


    "Is there anything I can do to help with the Trinity? What do you need to convict them?"


    Larson rubbed his chin through his mask and looked off to the side for a few moments. "We have the Trinity in custody. I''m not sure there''s anything I need. No conviction is guaranteed until it''s handed down by the judge. We already had all the evidence we needed to warrant the arrests of the Trinity. Now it''s just about digging into everything on everyone in the Trinity and piecing together every last bit of evidence and organizing it all so it''s all in order for the trial."


    Cynthia paused, letting the information settle, although it wouldn''t. The Trinity was in custody and she knew what would come next¡ª formal charges filed if they weren''t already, a trial, the media circus that would follow, and the intended prison sentence of life without parol that wasn''t guaranteed until it was handed down by the judge.


    "Do you know who they are?" Cynthia asked.


    Larson shook his head. "Not entirely yet. We know their names. Mayil, Brenley, and Ander. We believe Mayil to be the leader based on dynamics, but we''re still learning more, although they''ve managed to live almost entirely off the grid. It''s somewhat surprising how little we''ve been able to dig up so far, but I''ll admit I can see why they''d want such a low profile."


    "Have they been talking?"


    Larson huffed a short, humorless laugh. He pushed his mask back up his nose. "No. It would be more helpful if they would talk, related to the case or not, but no, they haven''t been talking. Rift is talking with one of them currently and trying to build up any sort of relationship that might get them to speak about something. I don''t have particularly high hopes, but stranger things have happened so perhaps, I suppose." He looked off to the side. "I just don''t want to mess this up. We''re so close, but there''s still so many ways this could all fall apart. I don''t want to let down Ashley Baok or Alaska Wendell March."


    Cynthia felt the same way. "I don''t want to either."


    She looked down at her desk and picked at a loose string on the arm of her sweater. The soft material now felt clingy and suffocating.


    "I don''t want to let anyone down," she added on.


    "Same here." Exhaustion hung heavy in Larson''s eyes, and Cynthia knew they both understood how the other felt.


    "Were there four people?" Cynthia asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, the kind she almost felt bad breaking. "When Felix Fisk showed up here he mentioned the Eidolon."


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    She remembered the entire interaction, or rather her seeing it all unfold before her, because she barely spoke to Felix. She remembered the elation at seeing Felix alive, yet also the horror at his injuries and even thinking about what he might have gone through at the hands of the Trinity.


    Larson nodded. He looked off to the side to think. "Yes, we do believe there were four people involved. We don''t know the extent yet of his involvement, other than that he was involved in Felix Fisk''s abduction. His name is Lazarus Doe, though, which we do know for certain."


    "Lazarus Doe?"


    "Yes."


    "Do you have him in custody?"


    Larson shook his head, and his face twisted beneath his mask. "No, but we''re tracking him down. He worked in the mines in Spider Ridge until recently."


    "The mines?" Cynthia echoed.


    "Yes, the mines."


    "I thought he was with the Trinity."


    Larson shrugged. "We believe that he was, but now he''s elsewhere. We''re hoping that by digging deeper into the Trinity that we''ll uncover more about Lazarus, but we are also researching him independently to find as much information as we can."


    Cynthia internally shuddered.


    "Whatever you need, it''s yours."


    Cynthia wrote down a few notes and spun her pen between her fingers.


    "And what of Sprague Fetch?" Cynthia asked. "Do you think the Trinity is more of a group of five?"


    Larson rubbed his chin, then straightened out his mask. "We''re still looking into him. We haven''t charged him with anything, but we''re keeping a very close eye on him and are housing him in a safe location since the public knows who he is and he has connections to the Trinity. "


    "Are there any actions I need to be taking on my end to keep people safe? You have Mayil, Brenley, and Ander in custody, but not Lazarus. And you don''t know what threat Sprague Fetch might pose, if any. I''m not blaming you and I know your job isn''t easy, but I''m trying to work with you toward keeping Waverwell safe."


    Larson hummed and took a moment to think. "No, no, I understand. I''m fully with you. Waverwell''s safety is important. We are working with other Precincts to focus efforts on tracking down Lazarus Doe, and we''re also researching the Trinity, as well as Lazarus and Sprague, to see what information we can uncover. The public should be aware, especially of Lazarus since he''s considered dangerous and we do not know his location, but I also don''t want to create any panic. Panic would only create more problems."


    "We do not need any more problems," Cynthia murmured.


    "No, we do not."


    xxxx


    Cynthia felt no pleasure writing the formal letter for Delta''s removal from Waverwell government. She felt glad to finally be working toward something permanent, but she felt anger and sorrow that she even had to be writing something like the letter. How could she be happy doing such a thing when she knew writing the document meant Delta had done something terrible? Something horrific enough to warrant such a measure.


    Removing someone from Waverwell government was difficult and required extreme reason. It wasn''t done over nothing. But Delta had given plenty of reason.


    Less than an hour after Cynthia sent the letter to Delta and the story hit the news, Delta''s lawyers shot back, questioning Gabriella and whether she really was telling the truth and vowing a defamation lawsuit.


    Charlotte showed up to the President''s Room at lunch time.


    "Wish I could''ve been there, Sin," Charlotte said, holding the door as the two walked out into the hallway for a brief lunch together.


    "I''m glad he''s gone, but it wasn''t a happy occasion," Cynthia replied.


    Charlotte inclined her head, keeping pace with Cynthia. "I know, but I still wish I could''ve seen his face."


    "It felt like a weight got lifted, but now it feels like it''s been replaced with a new one in the form of Delta pushing back."


    Charlotte hummed. "I wouldn''t look at Muse then, if I were you."


    Cynthia sighed, shoulders sagging. "Do I even want to know?"


    "It''s been..." Charlotte trailed off. "It''s been divisive, to say the least. Virtually every post made, Delta''s or Gabriella''s or someone else''s, has been filled with comments arguing it out. People are very... passionate on both sides."


    "I''m not surprised," was all Cynthia could say. She closed her eyes and took a breath.


    Their table was already set when Cynthia and Charlotte arrived, a small table off to the side with two chairs. Waiters set down food, an elaborate display of meats and veggies that Cynthia almost felt bad for disturbing.


    Charlotte dug in, but Cynthia picked at her meal.


    "He''s in the wrong," Charlotte murmured, pausing in eating.


    "I know that. Gabriella knows it, too. Many do. I''m just worried it won''t be so clear cut."


    "You''re worried his lawyers are going to find him a way out of this?"


    Cynthia stared at her plate and pushed a piece of broccoli around. She nodded, and a pang of guilt shot through her as she did so. Guilt for believing that Delta might weasel away. Guilt for perhaps acting too soon, too impulsively. Guilt for perhaps throwing away what she knew was likely the only shot they''d have. Guilt for thinking anything other than Delta would be held accountable for what he did.


    "Yes," Cynthia whispered.


    Charlotte sighed. "I wish I could tell you something nice to hear. Wish I could say he''ll get held accountable. I can''t. But I''m here."


    "Don''t be here for me," Cynthia said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Gabriella''s the one under the most stress. She''s had to deal with Delta far more than I have."


    "I know."


    "I just want something to go right," Cynthia said.


    Charlotte reached across the table and took Cynthia''s hand into her own, squeezing it. A faint smile tugged at Cynthia''s mouth, but it vanished as soon as it came.


    "I don''t want him to get away with it."


    "I don''t want him to either," Charlotte murmured. "We know he did it, and we''re taking the steps we need to so he can be held accountable."


    "We are," Cynthia echoed.


    There was a problem with Delta, and she was taking action to try to fix it. She might not be able to undo the past but she could keep it from happening again in the future.


    I''m doing something about it, Cynthia reminded herself.


    xxxx


    Later in the day, Cynthia flipped through documents, signing where needed but mostly staying updated on everything. Danzig Sterling sent an email, which Cynthia read through, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater. They were working on tracking down the person who had survived the disease, they said, adding that they believed it to be true. Research into the disease itself continued as well and was moving along steadily. Soon, Danzig said in their email. I hope to soon have some sort of treatment, although it will need all the testing.


    Cynthia minimized Danzig''s email and pulled out the letter she received from Delta''s lawyers. She had stored it in front of everything else for easy access.


    She had nothing against defense lawyers. She knew their intent¡ª make sure their client got a fair trial and that the right person was found guilty.


    But she still felt anger at the idea that they would even think to question Gabriella, much less actually do it. Cynthia knew it was their job, but she hated that they were going to pick apart everything, that they were going to pick apart the truth and try to twist everything in favor of Delta.


    A few minutes later, Gabriella pushed through the door and then immediately shut it behind her, sagging against it and exhaling a sigh as she sunk to the ground and pulled her pink dress away from her shoes. Her chest rose and fell in rapid breaths.


    "Are you alright?" Cynthia asked, shoving the letter into the first drawer she could find and then standing up. She walked around the mahogany desk and crossed the circular carpet, tugging on the hem of her sweater.


    Gabriella didn''t reply. She squeezed her eyes shut.


    "What can I do?" Cynthia reached out a hand but pulled it back partway before she touched Gabriella. She didn''t know if she had permission.


    "Just-." Gabriella took a breath. "Just give me a minute."


    "Ok."


    They stood there in silence, and Cynthia sent Charlotte a quick text to not let anyone come into the President''s Room unless it was an emergency. Charlotte responded with a brief ok.


    Gabriella placed a hand on her chest and pursed her lips as she exhaled long and slow.


    "Are you doing anything right now?" she asked.


    Cynthia shook her head. "No. I''m here for whatever you need."


    She did have things to do, but they could wait.


    "Can I have a hug?" Gabriella looked up at Cynthia. Her mascara was smudged, and tears shone in her dark eyes.


    "Of course."


    Cynthia sat down beside Gabriella and let herself be pulled into a hug. Tears stung in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around Gabriella''s shoulders and felt Gabriella''s grip tighten around her sweater.


    "I knew he would do this," Gabriella murmured, voice muffled, "but I still wasn''t prepared."


    Cynthia didn''t know what to say. There were no words she could say that would make anything better. Nothing she could say could undo what was being done.


    "I''m sorry," she whispered. "I''m here, and I believe you. I''ll always believe you."


    "I know." Gabriella adjusted her grip to hold on tighter to Cynthia''s sweater.


    "Is there anything I can do?"


    "This is helping," Gabriella replied.


    "We can stay like this for as long as you need."


    "Ok," Gabriella whispered, voice lost in Cynthia''s sweater.

 Eidolon - Chapter 11 - Chad Malcolm - In the End, They Would Be Together

    Chapter 11


    CHAD MALCOLM


    Chad Malcolm leaned back in his chair, and he wondered what he should do, because he didn''t know.


    "Honey," Chad started, trailing off.


    Darcy hummed absently, typing away at her desk. Violet flashes appeared as her fingers moved. She had her manicurist change her nail polish a few days ago. Chad thought the color looked stunning on her.


    "Do you need something?" Darcy asked, squinting at her computer screen, pausing for a few moments, and then typing again before another pause. She made a face, then typed again.


    "Yes," Chad replied.


    "What is it?" Darcy typed out something again before her computer screen went dark and she turned in her chair.


    Chad stood up and walked to the couches between their desks to give himself time to get his thoughts in order. He sat down and rearranged the magazines and articles scattered on the coffee table between the couches.


    "We will get through this," he said. "I know that. The leviathan will never roll over." Chad paused. "They keep coming after us, though. What are we supposed to do about that? We didn''t do anything wrong. We''re just protecting our company."


    Darcy stared at him for a long while, and Chad held her gaze, drowning in the depths of her eyes. "You''re feeling frustrated?"


    Chad nodded. "Yes. I thought we fixed this all. I thought it was all behind us."


    "It seems it is not," Darcy murmured, drumming her fingernails on her desk. "I thought it had all been dealt with a while ago as well, but it seems I was wrong."


    "What should we do?"


    "We have it under control," Darcy said.


    "Do we?"


    Darcy held his gaze, eyebrows furrowing slightly, as if in a dare. "Yes. Go for a walk if you need to blow off steam."


    Chad braced himself on the arm of the couch and stood up. "I''m going to Morning Jitters. Do you want anything?"


    Darcy waved a hand, light catching on her nail polish. "No, thank you."


    xxxx


    Chad took the elevator down to the lobby and didn''t slow to look around as he exited the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc. He stepped onto the sidewalk and eased right into the flow of people making their way along the street. No one looked at him twice.


    He reached the Morning Jitters cafe a short while later and ordered a coffee.


    Chad sat off to the side of the cafe after he got his coffee and sipped it. He had taken many breaks like this recently, stepping away from his work to come and do nothing in the peace of being no one. Darcy continued working in his absence, and Leviathan Inc. still ran.


    He twirled his to-go cup in his fingers.


    His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out.


    Take as long as you need, Darcy said in a message. Don''t worry.


    Maybe something like this could continue with Darcy solely running the company, but no, he couldn''t think like that. Darcy needed him, and they were a team. They were husband and wife, a duo who proclaimed their love before everyone at their wedding and who build their company from nothing to power the homes and businesses for the majority of the citizens of Waverwell.


    Chad exhaled, closing his eyes and then taking a long sip of his coffee to try to slow his racing mind.


    He needed to do something. This wasn''t working. Little actions wouldn''t fix his company and smooth the bumpy road.


    He needed to do something big.


    Chad stood up and weaved between customers as he made his way toward the exit. The bells on the door of the Morning Jitters cafe jingled as he left and walked back to the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc. It didn''t take long, and soon he was walking through the familiar revolving doors.


    Freya Fisk still wasn''t back at reception, and a part of Chad missed her. She kept careful watch and directed everyone where they needed to go and did her work smoothly and without fail. Chad didn''t know where Darcy had found the temporary receptionist, but they were not the same and had a cold presence.


    Chad eyed them as he walked by, and he saw the same patchy makeup failing to completely conceal the red mark running down their cheek from their eye. At least their haircut was fixed into a style cropped close to their scalp. They looked far less inviting than the colorful warmth Freya held.


    So long as they did their work, Chad supposed. Later he could talk with Darcy and find a different receptionist. Someone with a little more of a welcoming presence.


    Chad walked past reception and over to the elevators, and he didn''t have to wait long for one.


    Chad''s finger hovered over the elevator buttons. He was about to press the button to bring him to his office, but he hesitated.


    He decided to go to the rooftop garden. Maybe a little more time to clear his head would make him more productive.


    xxxx


    Chad paced back and forth on the rooftop of the Corville headquarters of Leviathan Inc., eating up the ground in long strides. His chest expanded and contracted with big breaths as he tried to calm himself, but his mind didn''t slow. If anything, it started working faster, tumbling with thoughts, spiraling through sentences that hurtled around his brain, images that spun about.


    Darcy was a siren. A beautiful siren who pulled him in with her song. Who stole his breath from his throat every time he saw her, every time she spoke, every time she walked in the room and it was like he saw her for the very first time.


    Chad loved her.


    He loved Darcy endlessly. She was the most stunning woman he ever saw, and he could listen to her speak forever. He wanted to map every inch of her skin and show her how much she meant to him and hold her tight and never let her go because he loved every bit of her.


    He would drown in her siren''s song forever if it meant he got to be with her, be her husband, her lover, her everything.


    The thought of having to be apart from her ripped him up, tore his insides to pieces, but he would do anything for her. He''d spend an eternity apart if it meant she was safe, because in the end, they would be together. Their souls were intertwined and could never be apart. They had proclaimed their love and promised themselves to the other the day they married each other.


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    But he knew she lied.


    Chad knew she lied.


    Chad knew she knew more than she told him. He knew she kept things from him. He knew she knew they were a team and that he knew they both wanted their company to work, to stay afloat, to remain the leviathan they both dreamed of, to cut out the rotten flesh so it could thrive once more.


    Chad loved Darcy, and that was that. He knew there would be no one else who could steal his breath away, make his heart beat faster the second he saw her, capture his attention like she did. Chad knew they were soulmates.


    Leviathan Inc. was their child, and what wouldn''t he do for family?


    But even still, Chad didn''t know. He wasn''t sure what he was supposed to do.


    Leviathan Inc. was broken, a floundering serpent in the sea, still technically afloat but not swimming as it should be. How was Chad supposed to fix something so broken? How was he supposed to fix something seemingly shattered and beyond repair?


    Arkreon was the way forward. Chad knew that much. He was certain of it. He and Darcy were the first to figure out its power, the use it could provide, what it could do for Waverwell. He knew it was the way of the future. He knew it would change the world, just like he and Darcy had promised to do.


    Arkreon powered most homes in Waverwell. It took less to do more than an alternative like coal. Leviathan Inc. employed more people than any other company in Waverwell. The number was falling but the fact still held true.


    Sometimes moving forward got bumpy, sometimes there were issues, sometimes it took time for people to realize the benefit, sometimes people resisted change.


    Chad didn''t want people suffering, but instead he wanted to make things better.


    Perhaps that''s what Darcy wanted him to understand.


    Chad never meant for Felix to get in the way and he hoped Felix could find some way to heal, but sometimes things took the long way, a road that didn''t seem to make sense. Chad could offer Felix what he could¡ª time off to recover, paid leave for as long as he needed. Things that could help.


    Chad didn''t want Felix to have been there, and that was enough.


    xxxx


    Back in their shared office, Chad found himself unable to focus yet again.


    Darcy still typed away, but Chad had only managed a handful of words before his mind wandered. His head spun with ideas, trying to find ways to help Leviathan Inc. and set things right. Secure its future as the great company Chad knew it was and that he and Darcy had planned when they first set about building it.


    Chad studied his wife.


    Darcy knew more than him. She was the one directly working with the Trinity, even if he had participated in smaller ways.


    Maybe if he took the fall for it... maybe if he told them everything he knew and they believed it all that it would be enough.


    His love for Darcy would never fade. He had made his vows the day they got married and promised his soul to hers for eternity. That vow would stand forever and could never be broken. They''d be together forever, holding each other close even in death.


    "I''ll go to them," Chad said suddenly, acting on impulse.


    Darcy spun around in her chair.


    "What?" she asked, frowning. She looked genuinely confused, showing Chad full emotion that she rarely did to others.


    "I''ll go to them. I''ll go to the Moonfall Precinct. I''ll say it was me. They already have the Trinity, so I''ll tell them it was all me. I''ll take the fall for it," Chad said, anxiety snaking around his heart but the leviathan was strong and wouldn''t break. "You can fix things and rebuild Leviathan Inc. stronger than ever."


    Darcy stared at Chad for several long moments, and he held her gaze, studying her features as she walked around her desk to stand in front of him.


    "You know if you go to them they''ll just watch us harder." Darcy stepped closer, running her hands across Chad''s chest.


    Chad held her hands in his, palms on her knuckles and feeling the warmth of her smooth skin. "I know," he replied, "but they''ll already look at us. The leviathan will strike first. We can control this."


    "They''ll never let you go."


    "My soul belongs to you. I vowed before everyone the day we got married that I would love you forever, and that will never change. I am yours forever, Darcy." Chad dropped his gaze from Darcy''s eyes to her lips and kissed her. "They can lock me up, but we''ll never be apart."


    Darcy studied him for a moment. "We started this company together."


    "We will stay together. You own Leviathan Inc. alongside me. You can run it on its own, but Leviathan Inc. cannot survive without either of us."


    "And what will come of you being arrested? They''ll charge you, and the fallback will land on Leviathan Inc."


    Chad smiled. "You''re Darcy Malcolm. You don''t take no for an answer. If you want something, you will get it. And if you want to rebuild Leviathan Inc., then you will. Prove to everyone that this was all me. Prove that Leviathan Inc. was innocent. Prove that Arkreon is the way of the future and Charlie Springs was wrong. Show them Darcy Malcolm is innocent and it was all Chad Malcolm."


    Darcy didn''t reply at first and instead wrapped her arms around Chad''s middle. He held her head to his chest.


    "I thought we had prevented this all from happening," she murmured.


    Chad hummed. "I thought so too, but we can work through this. The leviathan won''t fall."


    "We''re going to change the world," Darcy whispered into his skin.


    "We are."


    "You''re really going to admit to it all?"


    "I''ll tell them what they want to hear so they don''t come nipping at your heels and Charlie Springs''s claims never make it past rumors. You''ll have to run the company, Darcy, but I know you can."


    Darcy was silent for another long while. She sighed.


    "I like you here," she said. "I love you. I don''t want to run this company without you. We built it together."


    Chad twisted his lips. "I know," he replied. "It''s the best way. They''ll keep digging and digging and they''ll never leave us alone and we won''t be able to rebuild as strong."


    Chad pressed his face to Darcy''s hair.


    "I don''t like this plan," she said.


    "What other way is there? We have to get ahead of it all."


    Darcy didn''t reply at first. Eventually she said, "I don''t know."


    Chad closed his eyes, searing the feel of Darcy''s arms around him into his brain. The way she felt pressed up against him, the heat of her skin, the warmth of her embrace, the scent of her perfume and the faint hint of shampoo.


    "Put it all on me," he said. "It was all me. I did it all."


    Darcy hummed something unintelligible into his shoulder.


    "What was that?"


    "Are you sure? Perhaps there''s some other way."


    "We need to do something big," Chad replied. "This is the way. I did it all, and you can keep Leviathan Inc. running."


    Darcy pulled back to look him in the eye. "Chad, you know they''ll never let you go. They won''t let anyone who''s caught up in any of this go. They''ll lock you away forever and throw away the key."


    Chad held eye contact. "I know, but they can never keep us apart. We''ll be together forever. That''s what we swore to each other."


    Darcy smiled, and Chad returned it.


    "Yeah?" Chad said, searching Darcy''s gaze, and she nodded. "I take the fall, and you keep Leviathan Inc. running. Tell them it was all me."


    xxxx


    Chad thanked the driver Darcy had called for him as he stepped out of the car a few blocks from the Corville Precinct. He hoped the short walk would calm the bit of nerves he felt.


    He didn''t remember the walk, nor did he remember talking to the first officer he found, but before he knew it, another officer was leading him toward an interview room.


    They had listened like he guessed they would, and now he was getting his chance to tell his side of the story.


    Darcy would be free. She could work on Leviathan Inc. like he knew she could, and he knew she would rebuild the company bigger and better than ever before.


    Chad followed the officer closely toward the interview room. He ignored the pounding of his own heart. Perhaps walking into the Corville Precinct would be the last time he would see the light of day. He could live with that.


    Ryzor Oberhofer walked by, nose buried in a report, and glanced up.


    "Who are you?" he asked, eyes narrowed but expression blank.


    "I''m Chad Malcolm. I have come to confess something to you."


    Ryzor didn''t hesitate as he closed the report and handed it to the officer. "Put this on my desk, please. I can take it from here with Chad."


    The officer nodded and took the report, scurrying off.


    "This way, please." Ryzor gestured to an open door down the hallway.


    Chad sat down in the first chair he saw, and Ryzor sat down across from him.


    "Please state your full name," Ryzor started.


    "My name is Chad Malcolm."


    "What is it you have come here for?" Ryzor asked, pulling out a chair across from Chad and producing a pen and a notepad from his pocket.


    Chad eyed the blinking red light on the camera in the corner of the ceiling and the notepad Ryzor pulled from a pocket. It was good, Chad knew. He could tell the story exactly as it was and make sure everyone knew exactly what happened. His words could not be twisted.


    He would take the fall for it all, because it was all him. If he believed it, he was not lying and he would tell only the truth.


    "I have come to make a confession," Chad replied.


    Ryzor nodded. "What is it you wish to confess?"


    "I have come to confess that I was involved with the Trinity," Chad said, and Ryzor watched him with an even expression and a slight head tilt that spoke of an active listener.


    "I don''t know what happened with the murder of Alaska Wendell March," Chad continued, "but I do know what happened with the murder of Ashley Baok. I was involved in it. I paid the Trinity to carry out the murder of Ashley Baok."


    Ryzor raised his eyebrows. "You paid the Trinity to murder Ashley Baok?"


    "Yes," Chad replied, "and I have come to tell you everything."

 Eidolon - Chapter 12 - Kristin Baok - Realized People

    Chapter 12


    KRISTIN BAOK


    Kristin Baok didn''t know how to feel.


    He felt happy, sure. Relieved. Like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.


    But he also felt despair.


    He''d refused to let the television be turned on, because he knew the second someone hit the power button he''d come face to face with the same people who saw Ashley''s last moments.


    The same ones who took his life.


    He knew their faces would be plastered across every inch of Waverwell News, reporters repeating the same facts over and over as they all competed for the next exclusive story. He didn''t want to see them.


    Kristin hunched over in his bed, holding the little toy mouse Ashley had bought him as an impulse buy on one of the first supply runs when he couldn''t resist getting presents for everyone in some informal celebration of what they had achieved in creating the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit.


    "They caught the Trinity," Kristin whispered to himself, voice breaking across the syllables like shattering glass. He could barely make his mouth form them.


    He held on tighter to the mouse, stroking its matted fur. Kristin thought he''d just forget about the mouse until it one day just ended up in the trash, but somehow the mouse stuck around and collected dust, until now when it was just another piece of his brother he clung to now and forever.


    Larson had left a half hour ago. He had stuck around long enough to answer the onslaught of questions and to make sure they''d be ok, but not much longer, some mix of needing to get back to deal with the Trinity but also to give them all space to work through the development.


    But before he''d left and after he''d told them of the Trinity''s arrest, Ferris had immediately begun pressing him for more information, while Kristin did everything he could to make sure his legs didn''t give out. He could hardly hear Ferris''s low voice through the ringing in his ears.


    Zip asked about the exact location of where the Trinity was arrested, Charlie asked about who they were, Ren asked about Sprague Fetch, and Ferris asked about Felix Fisk. Kristin couldn''t follow any of it.


    The Moonfall Precinct had the Trinity. They were arrested.


    The monsters who took Ashley''s life were in handcuffs and behind bars.


    It didn''t feel real.


    Kristin felt glad, relieved beyond words, but the horror twisted into something different.


    The Trinity was no longer just some hypothetical, a name given to three unknown people. No longer were the Trinity just nightmares, demons that haunted his every moment, lurking just out of reach, faceless beings he could pass on the street and never realize it. They were now real, realized people, locked up in prison with handcuffs and jumpsuits.


    Kristin would never not be able to recognize them. He''d now know exactly who they were, and they would now face charges and a trial.


    xxxx


    It took several days of doing almost nothing around the house before Kristin felt that he could deal with the Trinity''s faces on the news.


    He felt a bit selfish, avoiding the television and his phone. He really should see the Trinity and stay caught up, but he wanted that limbo for just a little longer, that space between wondering who the Trinity is and having to face the reality of three human beings who stole his brother away. Three people who looked like humans, human like his brother, even if the comparison -the idea that the Trinity could be people, just like Ashley was- tore Kristin up from the inside.


    Kristin left his room and saw Charlie laying on the couch, staring off into space and absently peeling apart slices of ham piled on a plate and dropping the dangling pieces into her mouth. She didn''t pay him any attention, and he didn''t mind. He didn''t know if he could deal with any sort of interaction.


    Kristin watched her for a moment, then turned his attention to the kitchen, where he saw the tv remote.


    He pressed the power button, but as soon as the screen lit up, he hit pause.


    Charlie sprung up from the couch, sitting up in one fluid movement and setting her plate on the coffee table. "Yo, what''cha doin''?"


    "I have to see them," Kristin murmured distantly.


    "You''re doing what?"


    "The Trinity. I need to know what they look like. I need to know who Ashley last saw."


    Charlie frowned. "I don''t think he ever saw their faces."


    Kristin flinched. He knew that, and he didn''t know if it made it better or worse. "Still," he replied.


    Charlie inclined her head. "You want me here for company, or do ya wanna see them by yourself?"


    "You already know what they look like, don''t you?"


    Charlie shrugged. "I looked them up right after Larson left. Had to know. Dunno ''bout the others."


    "Do I want to see them?" Kristin found himself asking.


    "Couldn''t tell ya. I ain''t you," Charlie said, leaning against the back pillow of the couch.


    Kristin put his hands on the kitchen counter, bracing himself. "Tell me," he pleaded, making and holding eye contact for Charlie because he just needed to know. "Tell me if I want to see them."


    Charlie''s face fell, and she cushioned her head on her bent arm, cheek squishing up.


    "I don''t know if you want to see their faces. I ain''t you," she replied, but she studied Kristin for a moment and then continued, realizing what Kristin couldn''t quite put to words. "I can tell you, though, that they look about like what you''d expect. They look like monsters. Waverwell News is showing their mugshots. Nothing else of ''em. Everything else is just wide shots of the Moonfall Precinct surrounded by officers and such. Can''t see the inside or nothin''."


    Kristin dropped his gaze to his hands. They looked just like the cold hands of Ashley the last time he saw his brother, yet also still so vastly different.


    He knew there was no way he could run forever. He couldn''t live the rest of his life without seeing their faces. At some point he would come face to face with the images of the Trinity.


    He crossed from the kitchen to the living area and made a shooing motion with his hand.


    "Move over," he said, and Charlie did so, scooting across the couch to make room for him.


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    Charlie stayed silent as Kristin held the tv remote in his hands. The play button loomed before him, but he couldn''t quite bring himself to push it. Waverwell News was already set as the channel and the Breaking News segment about the Trinity''s arrest was airing, so all he had to do was hit play.


    Tears stung in Kristin''s eyes.


    He had to hit play. He had to do it. He owed Ashley that much. He owed it to his brother to see the faces of the Trinity. He couldn''t sit in the disconnect forever, that space of knowledge without seeing any of the details. He''d see the mugshots eventually, and he knew it. He couldn''t hide forever. There was some twisted comfort in not knowing, Kristin knew, but there was also immense guilt.


    Ashley never got comfort. He had to go through it all alone, and Kristin wasn''t there.


    He could sit through seeing the faces of the Trinity. He had to.


    With a shaky hand, Kristin hit play.


    "-son Hotch and the rest of the Moonfall Precinct arrested the Trinity earlier today," Shaheena Driscoll said.


    The screen cut to a blank background, and three photos lined up next to each other, each labeled with their name below.


    "The Moonfall Precinct has identified the Trinity as Mayil, Brenley, and Ander, but has yet to release any more information."


    Kristin paused the tv again as he stared at the screen. His body trembled as he took in the images of the Trinity.


    Mayil''s eyes stared straight back at him, dark and intense, like they saw straight into his soul, and her dark hair framed her face in harsh locks. Brenley had the beginning of a crooked smile slashed across her face, and her gaze was predatory with streaky blonde hair that curled around her head, then swooped out wide at her shoulders. Ander''s head sat at an angle, and he had a blank stare and an equally blank expression. His brown hair stuck out at every angle like a storm cloud.


    Kristin stopped breathing, and he shivered. The temperature of the room felt like it dropped a hundred degrees. Kristin set down the remote before he squeezed it too hard and it broke. He grabbed a pillow from behind him and bracketed his arms around it, locking it to his chest and pouring his horror into it.


    Those three people took Ashley away. They stole his life. They made him suffer.


    Hate curled in Kristin''s gut, a twisting tendril that sputtered and snapped. His lips curled as tears burned in his eyes.


    What right did they have? What right did they have to take Ashley away? What twisted logic did they have that made them feel it was ok?


    They killed Ashley. They murdered him.


    Kristin wished they were right there in front of him. He wanted answers. He wanted to know why, even though he knew he''d never get an answer that would make him say ok and accept the justification.


    A part of him wanted to turn to violence. They took away Ashley''s life, so he had to make them feel the pain Kristin knew they inflicted on his brother. Ashley would never turn to that, though, and so Kristin pushed the thought away despite a part of him feeling tempted, but it lingered.


    He wanted to scream and shout at them, pull answers from their throats and whatever excuses they might say. He wished they could feel just some little piece of the pain he felt, but he knew they never could. How could they understand what they did when they chose to do it?


    Maybe Ashley would''ve had something to say, some perspective Kristin could not currently see.


    Movement out of the corner of his eye shocked him back to reality.


    "Kristin," Charlie said, reaching out a tentative hand. "Can I give you a hug? Do you want one?"


    Her voice broke on the question, and when Kristin glanced over at her, she had tears in her eyes.


    Kristin looked away, trying to bury the anger he felt boiling in the pit of his stomach.


    Every cell was so tightly wound up he felt like a rubber band on its breaking point, about to snap. A boiling tea kettle about to explode.


    He knew what would relieve the pressure. He knew what would let him just sag into the couch, letting go of the breath he''d been holding since the day his world plummeted into hell.


    He knew he would never get it.


    He wanted Ashley back so bad, and he would never see his brother again.


    "Please," Kristin croaked.


    Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder, then stopped.


    "I want a hug," he pleaded.


    "I don''t know how much physical touch you want," Charlie replied.


    "Squish my soul back into my body," Kristin found himself saying, remembering how Ashley had once called a hug that a few months prior.


    "I can do that."


    Charlie pulled him in close, arms tight around his body, and Kristin buried his face in her shoulder. He felt her do the same, pressing her cheek into his neck.


    Kristin clung to Charlie, and she did the same to him, tightening her hold and locking her arms around him. He squeezed his eyes shut, but when all he saw was Ashley''s face and the images of the Trinity, he stared past Charlie, vision blurry with tears that trickled from his eyes. His mind still offered him all of the terrible images and possibilities he never wanted to think about again.


    The pressure of the hug offered some measure of comfort, but it also reminded Kristin of Ashley. It made him long for his brother all the more. There was so much he wanted of his brother just one more time that he''d never be able to get.


    Kristin''s sides heaved with a sob, and Charlie just rubbed his back.


    "I know, I know," Kristin choked out, voice thick and wet. "Maybe not rainbows and butterflies, but it''ll be ok."


    "Wasn''t gonna say that," Charlie murmured back. "I suppose it''s probably true, but it doesn''t feel true. Not right now."


    "The Trinity''s arrested, but I still feel the same."


    "Same here," Charlie whispered, holding onto him a little tighter.


    xxxx


    The front door slammed open, and Kristin''s head shot up. Ferris burst through the entryway, followed by Ren and Zip.


    "Kristin," Ferris said, gaze locked onto him. "Have you seen the news?"


    Kristin shook his head, eyeing how Zip bounced on his feet and looked all over. How Ren stared at their phone screen with wide eyes. How Ferris looked like he was holding himself together with threads.


    "What''s goin'' on?" Charlie asked, shifting to her knees on the couch, body tensed and ready to move.


    Kristin stood up, and Charlie followed suit.


    "I..." Ferris trailed off, and Kristin didn''t know what to make of how his friend stumbled over his words.


    Zip chewed on his lip for a moment. "Chad... Ch-Chad Malcolm has, uh. He said he paid the-the Trinity to..." His lip quivered, and Kristin barely caught the rest of Zip''s sentence. "He said he paid the Trinity to kill Ashley."


    Shock flooded through Kristin''s system, but it soon turned into icy cold that left him feeling like he was stripped bare in subzero temperatures. A shiver ran through his body, and he didn''t know how he remained standing.


    "Chad hired the Trinity to kill Ashley?" he echoed, hardly able to hear his voice.


    "Yes," Ferris said, low voice cutting through the fog in Kristin''s brain, "that is what he is saying."


    "Why?" Kristin''s breath caught on a dry sob.


    "The Moonfall Precinct hasn''t said anything yet," Ren said, "but considering it sounds like it was a contract killing, I think Ashley probably knew something."


    Kristin stared at Ren for several moments, holding their gaze until he broke away, lip curling as he huffed a humorless laugh.


    "My brother was murdered because someone had a hissy fit and didn''t like that they were gonna get caught?"


    Kristin shook as rage and grief boiled in his system. Sobs racked his sides, and he couldn''t hold back the tidal wave of grief that knocked him to his knees. He hunched over, and he heard the jagged breaths of the rest of the group.


    "Why didn''t he say anything?" Kristin asked, pleading. "We would''ve listened. He had to have known that."


    He clawed at his throat as his lungs constricted.


    The desire ¡ªthe need¡ª to have his brother back, for Ashley to come walking through the front door like he should''ve done overpowered him. It sung through every nerve, every cell in his body. Kristin needed Ashley back.


    He needed his brother.


    Kristin gritted his teeth and wrapped his arms around himself, digging his nails into his shoulders hard enough to break skin, but the sting did nothing to quell the agony coursing through him.


    "How am I supposed to survive this world without Ashley?" Kristin choked out. "I have you guys, but he''s my brother."


    His mouth watered and a wave of nausea rose up in his throat, and he wanted to vomit.


    "I don''t know," Ren said softly. "We''re here, but I know that doesn''t change what''s happened."


    "I should''ve done something. He was right there in the Forest. Ashley was so close."


    Charlie slumped down beside him. "You didn''t know. None of us knew. We all thought he was out in Moonfall on the supply run, just like every other time. None of us could''ve guessed what really happened."


    Kristin squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that. He had replayed that day and night over and over in his head a million times, knowing that at some moment during that time Ashley''s life became an hourglass and Kristin lived in ignorant bliss while his brother took his last breaths, until Ashley''s world went dark forever and Kristin would never know that moment because he wasn''t there.


    "I miss him so much," he said as tears dripped down his cheeks.


    "So do I." Ferris''s voice broke across the words, and the group echoed the sentiment.


    "What do we even do? I just want him back. I can''t think about anything else."


    "We..." Zip paused to think, and Kristin watched him and gave him time. "We make sure the Trinity never is free again."


    Charlie snorted, huffing a short laugh. "Damn right. Ain''t no way in hell they''re breathing fresh air again. I''ll kill ''em if I haft''a. Never gonna see the light of day again."


    "Don''t let any officers hear you say that," Ferris said. "I know you don''t have any intentions of actually doing it, but I don''t want you getting into trouble."


    Charlie rolled her eyes. "Big difference between saying something and actually doing it. They''re not getting out."


    "They won''t get out," Kristin said. He closed his eyes and repeated himself. "The Trinity isn''t getting out. They''re going to get locked away forever."

 Eidolon - Chapter 13 - Ferris Dipper - The Judge of Raconteur

    Chapter 13


    FERRIS DIPPER


    One Year Later


    The trial was held in Raconteur.


    Ferris Dipper liked and hated the fact. He didn''t have to be in the same place Ashley was last seen, but it was directly where Waverwell News was located. However, he knew the real reason was so the trial was in a different location than the murder; Waverwell law required a fair trial.


    Zip drove out to Raconteur in one of their cars. The drive was silent and somber. Charlie fiddled with the buttons on her jacket, an attempt at wearing something other than sweatpants and an old T-shirt. Kristin stared out the window, holding the mouse Ashley got him on his thigh and petting its fur. Ren sat with their eyes closed and looked as though they slept, though Ferris knew they weren''t.


    Ferris toyed with the sleeves of his button down shirt. He''d had to dig it out of the back of his drawers. He rarely wore such clothes.


    Zip drove over Teller''s Bridge and crossed into Raconteur. Only a handful of other cars occupied the streets, which were mostly empty.


    But as soon as they pulled into the parking lot and stepped out of the car, a horde of journalists and camera people rushed up to them. Lights flashed as they took photos, interviewers shoved microphones in their faces and shouted questions, trying to talk over each other.


    "Excuse us," Charlie said, trying to shoulder her way through. Zip tensed and followed close behind with his hands over his ears, nearly stepping on Charlie''s heels.


    Ferris flinched when a microphone nearly caught him in the jaw.


    "Excuse me," he said, angling around the reporter.


    He kept his gaze low as he made his way through the parking lot toward the Raconteur Courthouse, a small building compared to the one in Corville. Officers from every precinct stood guard at every point in the Courthouse, and Ferris knew the Trinity wouldn''t be left alone for a second, nor would they be kept too close to one another. Temporary fences lined the Courthouse to keep curious citizens and the media at bay. Only a select few from Waverwell News and Did You Hear?! were allowed in.


    Stone walls formed the exterior of the Courthouse, and intricate designs had been carved into the columns supporting a small covered entryway, one far smaller than the Corville Courthouse.


    Inside people swarmed about in organized chaos. Officers led everyone into lines to get checked in and be verified on their identity. Ferris showed his id and walked through a metal detector before being led into the courtroom.


    He took a deep breath. Kristin walked in first, holding Zip''s hand tightly.


    Polished oak formed most of the furniture of the courtroom, and rows of seating sat before a railing, where four tables stood in front of one large bench. Most of the seating was already taken, but a row in front off to the right was empty. Kristin took a seat, and the rest of the group followed suit, leaving Ferris sitting in the aisle.


    He eyed the door on the far left, where he knew the Trinity lay somewhere behind it. Where he knew the Trinity would soon be walking through.


    Ferris had spent hours reading through every article he could find on the case against the Trinity. Against Mayil, Brenley, and Ander. He saw pictures of Ashley sprinkled throughout them, the same pictures Kristin chose to share with the media. He recognized each one and remembered when it was taken. A snapshot after an afternoon out at the picnic table in the camp, a big smile across Ashley''s face. An image of Ashley holding Pyxis when they first got her and she was nearly too big to hold. Each image had been another dagger to the heart, snipping away the threads beginning to knit back the hole in his chest, but Ferris had forced himself to continue reading. He had to stay updated. He needed to know.


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    As he had read, he saw images of the Trinity. Mostly their mugshots from when the Moonfall Precinct first arrested them, but there were a few of them being led around in handcuffs and prison jumpsuits, snapshots captured by the media.


    Ferris didn''t know how they''d look in person. In real life, not just pixels on a screen.


    "C-can I, uh, sit here?"


    Ferris looked up and saw Kansas Sampson March standing above him. She gestured to the spot beside him.


    "Sure, of course," he replied, shifting over a bit to make more room.


    "Hey, Kansas." Charlie leaned forward and offered a wave.


    "Hi," Kansas replied, unable to meet her gaze. She kept her eyes on the ground, and pulled her rumpled jacket a little tighter around her shoulders like a shield.


    "Are..." Kansas trailed off. "Are you nervous?"


    Kristin closed his eyes and took a breath, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket. "I don''t know what I''m feeling. It''s been a year and it feels like this is just bringing it all back. A part of me doesn''t want to hear it all, but I also can''t not be here."


    Kansas hummed. "I feel the same way. I miss Alaska. I don''t want to hear how she died, but at the same time I can''t just be sitting at home. I need to do something for her."


    "I can ge-."


    Kristin cut himself off as the door on the far left of the courtroom opened.


    Ferris''s head shot up and he waited, and the soft murmuring in the room stopped in an instant. The silence felt so loud, and Ferris''s heart thumped in his chest. Each second ticked by, each seemingly slower than the last until he saw a shadow on the wall. It creeped closer to the doorway like a stalking predator until a figure emerged.


    Ferris shuddered upon seeing the Trinity in person. Mayil, Brenley, and Ander.


    He had seen their faces on the news. He had spent hours digging through articles and staring at their faces. Their mugshots haunted his dreams, and the images of their cold eyes bored straight through his soul. He knew what they looked like.


    Even still, he wasn''t prepared for their presence, the way they filled the room like they were a hundred times their real size. Like a looming shadow stretching far and wide. Icy prickles trailed across his skin like a chilling caress, and the hair rose on the back of Ferris''s neck.


    The courtroom fell silent as the door opened and officers started leading the Trinity out one by one. Officers lining the walls stood a little taller, and Ferris couldn''t help but sit up straighter to eye the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zip grab Kristin''s hand. He felt Charlie hold onto his arm, and he leaned into her, unable to tear his eyes from the doorway.


    Ander was led in first by a team of officers, assigned attorneys following close behind. Ander towered over them by a head and shoulders, and his prison jumpsuit wrapped tight across his massive frame. Silver glinted on the handcuffs and chain restraints keeping his wrists bound at his waist. Officers stood guard at either shoulder, eyes never straying from him.


    Brenley was next, and her hair flared out to the sides in tangled knots. Her piercing eyes locked onto the crowd, peering out at everyone. The chains at her ankles jingled with each step, the only sound in the silent courtroom.


    Finally, officers escorted Mayil to the final desk. Her steps fell evenly and smoothly, and she almost seemed to float across the ground. Her lawyers set a stack of folders on the table, and one pulled out her chair and helped her sit down. She offered a smile in response that made Ferris''s skin prickle.


    No one took the handcuffs off the Trinity.


    xxxx


    Ferris could only stare at the back of the Trinity''s heads as they sat at their desks and chattered quietly with their lawyers. None seemed fazed by their prison jumpsuits or the handcuffs.


    Mayil turned in her chair, looking out at the two sides of the courtroom. Several officers perked up, hands on their weapons. Mayil rolled her eyes but continued scanning until her eyes fell on Ferris and the rest of the group. Her gaze raked across them, eyes a solid black, and she gave a lazy smirk, lifting her cuffed hands to wiggle her fingers in a wave.


    A wave of disgust roiled in Ferris''s gut. He had seen Ashley give the same wave. Charlie often gave it too. A wiggle of fingers, sometimes teasing, sometimes just a quick goodbye, see ya. But with Mayil, Ferris could see the claws, the bloodstained talons, the hands that had dealt untold suffering.


    One of Mayil''s lawyers nudged her shoulder to get her to turn back around. They leaned in to whisper something to her. She shrugged but turned around.


    Just as her back was turned, a door at the back of the courtroom opened and the Judge of Raconteur walked in. Her robes flowed with each measured, even step, and she held her head high with a serious expression. Slight wrinkles crinkled the corners of her eyes, and her hair curled gently at her jaw. The courtroom was silent as she made her way to the bench and sat down, opening a thick folder.


    "Mayil, Brenley, and Ander," the Judge of Raconteur said, her voice ringing clear through the courtroom, "you all face two charges of first degree murder in the murders of Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March. If convicted, you face a maximum sentence of life in prison without the possibility of parole."

 Eidolon - Chapter 14 - Cynthia Corville - An End Goal

    Chapter 14


    CYNTHIA CORVILLE


    Cynthia Corville hadn''t sat down in hours. Maybe days. She wasn''t quite sure at this point.


    Between following the Trinity''s trial and the media circus that went with it, Delta''s removal from Waverwell government and the subsequent backlash from his lawyers, and Danzig''s near-completion of a treatment for the disease but the rigorous testing it had to complete even expedited to the maximum, Cynthia wasn''t entirely sure when the last time she slept was, and she certainly didn''t know when she had last sat down.


    Her feet ached as she walked down the hallway with Seven Valentine.


    "Gabriella''s working with lawyers," he said. "The defamation suit is likely going to trial. It''s beyond just his removal from Waverwell government. I don''t think this will settle out of court. A-although that''s just my personal opinion."


    Cynthia exhaled. "I doubt it will settle out of court either."


    She didn''t want it to go to trial. The outcome couldn''t be controlled. Who knew which side a jury would listen to and believe?


    "You... you did the right thing, you know," Seven said cautiously. He glanced up at her.


    "I know," Cynthia replied. "I''m not questioning myself, and it''s been a year. I''m just annoyed he''s making this whole thing into a fight. I''m not surprised though."


    Seven shrugged. "There are rumors going around on what happened in that room. It was only you and him and Gabriella Torres."


    Cynthia paused for a moment. She wanted to make sure she chose her words right and didn''t overstep her boundaries.


    "What types of rumors?" Cynthia asked.


    Seven chewed on his lip for a minute. "Rumors about what exactly happened. It''s not exactly a secret you and Gabriella didn''t get along with Delta. I firmly believe you were right, but I''ve heard a lot of chatter that perhaps it wasn''t the case and there was some kind of set up or something."


    Cynthia felt her expression flatten.


    "Yes, it was only myself, Gabriella, and Delta in the meeting room when I removed Delta from his position in Waverwell government. It is true that Gabriella and I were not particularly close with Delta, but we had a work relationship and things remained professional and there were clear expectations on what''s expected of a Waverwell government official. However, as for the story on what happened exactly, you would have to speak with Gabriella. It''s not my story to tell. What I can say, though, is that Delta crossed lines with Gabriella, and I removed Delta from Waverwell government after asking about what happened."


    "I don''t doubt you," Seven said.


    "I appreciate that."


    When they reached the President''s Room, Cynthia bid Seven a quick farewell. He returned it and left, leaving Cynthia standing in the doorway.


    Once the door was closed, she leaned back against it, taking a deep breath. She gave herself a moment to breathe and let her thoughts settle so she could focus.


    She had a few minutes before Gabriella was going to arrive. Cynthia had asked her to stop by.


    Gabriella came to the President''s Room wearing another of her dresses and matching heels. Ruffles lined her shoulders, and her dark hair curled in loose ringlets.


    "Hello," Cynthia said as Gabriella closed the door behind her.


    "Hello. I wish we could be meeting under better circumstances." Gabriella took a seat across from her. She looked tired.


    "I do as well. How are you doing?"


    Gabriella looked off to the side and sighed. "I''m handling it. Delta''s reaction was to be expected. He doesn''t like hearing no, but no is part of life. I''m just frustrated. I knew he would get angry, but I didn''t expect him to lash out with a defamation lawsuit. I wish I could say I am surprised." She drummed her nails on the armrest of her chair. "Working with the lawyers helps, though. I''m working to do something about him, and I''m working toward an end goal."


    "Charlotte said he''s been targeting you on Muse."


    Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Yes, he has."


    "I can contact Muse to make them stop."


    "I can as well, but it''s just him digging himself a bigger grave and acting like a child. I can handle it, because it''s more evidence against him."


    Gabriella took a deep breath. "I can handle it."


    Cynthia took a breath herself.


    xxxx


    Night fell sooner than Cynthia would''ve liked.


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    The melting clock on the corner of her desk told her it was inching steadily closer to midnight, and exhaustion pulled on her eyelids.


    Cynthia sighed. She wanted to reread through Danzig Sterling''s reports on their research into the disease and the treatment they held cautious hope for to find all the details, but the words blurred as she read them and she couldn''t focus.


    She needed sleep and knew it.


    Cynthia could return tomorrow. Then she could perhaps truly start to let herself imagine managing the distribution of the treatment Danzig was working on with their instructions and how that might play out. First, though, the treatment had to make it past testing.


    Cynthia returned the reports back to their folder and set it aside. That folder, along with new ones, would be waiting for her in the morning.


    She stood up and straightened out her desk so everything was in its place, then headed out of the President''s Room and back to her bedroom.


    The trip didn''t take long, and when Cynthia entered she saw Charlotte seated up against the headboard of their bed, a book in her lap and the bedside lamp shining softly on her.


    "Hey, Sin," Charlotte said. "Glad to see you here."


    "Char," Cynthia replied, letting the door close shut behind her and crossing the room so she could place her hands on her wife''s cheeks and pull her in for a kiss.


    "It''s late," Charlotte murmured. "Go get ready for bed. I''m ready to sleep and was just about to drag you from your office."


    Cynthia laughed and made her way over to the closet. She made quick work of her bedtime routine, falling into habit and brushing her teeth before putting on pajamas. She buttoned up her pajama top, then joined Charlotte in bed. The two lay next to each other on their backs, and the city was silent.


    It was the first time Cynthia felt she could maybe catch her breath and truly just stop for just a moment. She knew work waited for her and she knew the stack of folders on her desk would grow by the time she got up in the morning, but for now she let herself find Charlotte''s hand under the covers.


    Charlotte gave her hand a squeeze that she returned.


    Cynthia took a deep breath, letting the air slowly fill her lungs, then exhaled just as slow.


    "How is research going for Danzig?" Charlotte asked when they were both still wide awake after close to half an hour.


    Cynthia rolled over, pillowing her cheek on her folded arm. "It''s going well. Really well, I think. They''re testing a potential treatment. It''s giving mixed results, but Danzig says they''re optimistic."


    "I heard Freya Fisk was trying to get in contact with Danzig. Is that true?"


    Cynthia frowned. She hadn''t heard of that.


    "I don''t know," she replied. "I haven''t heard anything about that."


    Charlotte hummed, tracing a knuckle down Cynthia''s cheek. "Maybe I''ll hear something more in the morning. We''ll see. Let''s go to bed though, alright? I haven''t been sleeping well, and I know you haven''t either so don''t try to tell me otherwise."


    "Bossy, are we?" Cynthia chuckled.


    "Go to sleep or I''m hogging all the blankets." Charlotte pressed a gentle kiss to Cynthia''s mouth, running her fingers through her hair and tugging on the end of a lock. "Sleep, Sin. I know you need it."


    "Goodnight, Char," Cynthia murmured.


    xxxx


    The Trinity''s trial was going to take weeks.


    Cynthia had guessed as much after getting an update on the trial from Seven.


    The prosecution had mountains of evidence they were going to connect into a story for the jury that proved why Mayil, Brenley, and Ander were guilty of murdering Ashley Baok and Alaska Wendell March. The three defenses found the middle ground between saying their client was innocent because it was really the other two and also pinning Ashley''s murder entirely on Chad and Lazarus. He had admitted to wanting Ashley dead and knew things only someone involved would know, and Lazarus was still missing. The Trinity had not admitted to anything and claimed their innocence in it all.


    The same couldn''t be done for Alaska''s murder. Jason Starr had been arrested for hiring the Trinity, but he hadn''t admitted to it and had been working during the time she had been killed, an alibi the Corville Precinct had thoroughly vetted.


    Cynthia wanted to be there in the courtroom to watch. She wanted to see the trial for herself, but she couldn''t.


    She had other work that had to get done. She had done her part in the case against the Trinity; she had let Larson and everyone investigating have whatever they needed. There was nothing more she could do. She was not a detective, nor was she a lawyer. She didn''t have a place in the courtroom, and she had other things that required her attention.


    So instead, she focused her attention on what she could do. She could help keep Delta out of Waverwell government and do everything she could to ensure he could never hold any form of office again, she could make sure Danzig and the medical research team had everything they needed to put a stop to the disease, and she could stay updated on the trial.


    In the end, Cynthia was right: The trial did take weeks.


    Weeks of the prosecution calling witnesses to the stand, experts to tell the jury about the crime scene and the significance of every aspect and details they might otherwise overlook, family members like Kristin to tell the jury about who Ashley and Alaska were, witnesses like Felix and Sprague who saw important things no one else did.


    Cynthia sent Seven to attend it so she could stay updated beyond what was released to the press.


    Kristin Baok and Charlie Springs were called to the stand to tell the jury about who Ashley was and what they each remembered from the day of Ashley''s murder. The defenses questioned their recollections, but both spoke the truth and explained what the supply runs entailed and how Ashley frequently spent the night in Moonfall but was always back by the morning.


    Felix Fisk spoke about driving along Myway Highway, hearing the screams, and then making the decision to stop. He told the jury about how he witnessed the murder of Ashley, hiding until the Trinity had left, and then running away. He said that the Trinity later kidnapped him and held him hostage. He connected the masks the Trinity wore, recognizing them the night they murdered Ashley and again at the Trinity''s house in between the Underdown and Cat''s Cradle.


    The prosecution didn''t call Sprague Fetch to the stand. Law enforcement had deemed him to be unwillingly cooperating with the Trinity and Lazarus, who had been manipulating him. What he needed was help. Prison wouldn''t do that. He hadn''t intentionally done harm. While he knew a lot about the Trinity, he wasn''t the most trustworthy in the eyes of the jury.


    Cynthia understood. Sprague had the closest connection to the Trinity. He knew the most about them on an individual level, but he also had worked with them. He had assisted in Ashley''s murder¡ª he led Ashley to the Trinity.


    But the defense did call Sprague to the stand. Brenley''s attorney called him to the stand later in the trial and attempted to shift some of the blame away from the Trinity and on to Lazarus and Chad.


    "Tell me how you think it went," Cynthia said to Seven after the defense finished calling their witnesses.


    Seven shifted on his seat across from Cynthia. "I don''t know. I''m not a lawyer."


    "I know, but what is your opinion."


    He looked at her with wide eyes, but then narrowed them in a thoughtful expression. "I don''t think it was a slam dunk for either side. I think the jury has points to deliberate on. I hope the jury finds them guilty. I think they did it."


    "I hope so too," Cynthia replied.

 Eidolon - Chapter 15 - Kristin Baok - Hey, Ashley

    Chapter 15


    KRISTIN BAOK


    Kristin Baok could barely sit still. His whole body trembled and he bounced his leg up and down endlessly.


    Zip shot him a concerned look, to which he replied with a dismissive hand wave.


    I''m fine, he mouthed. Just nervous.


    Zip didn''t look very convinced, and Kristin looked away.


    The trial was nearly complete, and the defenses were giving their closing statements, talking about how their clients had done bad things but weren''t fully guilty in this trial. It was the others who were guilty instead.


    The prosecution had cornered each of the defenses into admitting some responsibility in Ashley and Alaska''s cases and forcing them to find new ways to explain away damning evidence.


    Kristin could see the prosecutor''s mouth moving, but he couldn''t hear words. He hadn''t been able to hear much of the trial. Every time he glanced at the Trinity, he could only see Ashley''s body on the tray when he learned his brother was dead. The too-pale skin, the cold hands, the gashes and wounds he could never unsee. He could only see the trees he had spent so long in looking like towering clawing fingers, the wicked trap his brother spent his last moments in. He could only see his brother taking his last breaths with people who wished him harm while Kristin slept peacefully, unaware of how much his brother needed him.


    He had spent most of the trial staring at his shoes and holding onto the little mouse Ashley got him and doing everything he could not to cry.


    But soon the jury was leaving the courtroom with an order from the Judge of Raconteur to deliberate and come to a decision on whether or not the Trinity were each guilty or not.


    Kristin knew the order was coming. He had known it since before the trial even started, but he still found himself getting more and more worked up.


    Zip and Ferris led him from the courtroom, with Charlie, Ren, and Kansas trailing behind.


    They found a quieter spot off to the side of the courthouse where they were hidden away enough that reporters weren''t swarming them but where they could still go right back in once the jury returned.


    Kristin paced back and forth. The rest of the group sat down on a bench. Zip fiddled with a pen, and Charlie twirled the bracelets knotted onto her water bottle. Ren scanned the crowd in the hallway.


    "Are they done yet?" Kristin asked.


    "It''s been, like, five minutes," Charlie replied. "Don''t think so."


    Kristin took a deep breath. He had sat through every day of the trial. He had spent most of the time looking at the ground, unable to bear seeing the Trinity''s faces or see any of the videos and images shown as evidence. He didn''t want to see everything the Trinity had done.


    But he still heard it all.


    How Ashley had finished most of his supply run and made it to the Books Galore shop before Sprague Fetch brought him across the street and walked with him across the parking lot of Deanna''s Bakery. How security cameras outside the bakery captured the last images of Ashley alive that Kristin couldn''t make himself see because he didn''t want to see Ashley walking to his death because he only wanted to remember Ashley as he was. How the Trinity then captured Ashley and took him to Silverlight Forest, where, at Chad Malcolm''s request, they tried to figure out what Ashley knew about the claims the whistleblower would later make, the same claims Chad said were all him. How, in the end, the Trinity murdered Ashley and took his life.


    He heard how the Trinity had abducted Alaska near her job, and then her body was later found near the shopping center in Corville. How Jason Starr had hired the Trinity because Alaska had broken up with him and had told him that she had no intentions of getting back together. How the Trinity had carried out Jason''s wishes of if he couldn''t have Alaska, no one could.


    Kansas''s face had scrunched up in pain and silent tears rolled down her cheeks.


    And now Kristin wanted justice, both for Ashley and Alaska.


    The minutes ticked by, giving way to an hour. And then another.


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    Kristin sat down, stood up, paced around. The rest of the group did the same, and Kansas twisted the sleeves of her jacket.


    "What''s taking so long?" Charlie grumbled, slouching down on the bench until she was nearly sliding off.


    "Jury''s still... they''re still de-deliberating," Zip murmured in reply.


    Kristin wanted to snap, to demand they deliberate faster, but he knew that wasn''t how things worked. They had to discuss the evidence, everything they''d heard. He wanted them to talk through whatever they had to so it was a fair trial, but he wanted justice.


    He wanted the guilty verdict.


    And so he would have to wait.


    xxxx


    Another half hour ticked by, minute by minute.


    Kristin watched each one go by on his phone. He tapped the screen to see the time, hoping more than one more minute had passed by, but he was disappointed.


    He sat down next to Ferris and pulled out Ashley''s mouse from his pocket. He set it on his thigh and smoothed out the fur. Its beady, stitched-on eyes stared at him.


    I wish you were my brother, Kristin thought at the mouse.


    It didn''t reply.


    An officer stepped out into the hallway.


    Charlie reacted first, leaping to her feet with an exhausted finally! The rest of the group followed suit, and Kristin slipped the mouse back into his jacket.


    "The jury has returned," the officer said.


    Everyone filed back into the courtroom in a controlled chaos of a crowd. Reporters swarmed, snapping pictures and capturing film. Cameras flashed, and Kristin held up a hand to block out the glare, ignoring the questions hurtled at him.


    The group returned to the same seats in the front row, and Kristin saw the Trinity where they had been when everyone left.


    "Has the jury reached a verdict?" the Judge of Raconteur asked once everyone was seated.


    "Yes," the lead juror replied, voice steady.


    "How does the jury find Mayil in the charge of the first degree murder of Ashley Baok?"


    "Guilty."


    Kristin closed his eyes and exhaled. He felt relief that at least someone would be held accountable, but mostly he just felt anger at what was taken.


    "How does the jury find Mayil in the charge of the first degree murder of Alaska Wendell March?"


    "Guilty."


    Kristin''s ears rung, and he could barely hear, yet he clearly heard each time the lead juror said guilty four more times. Twice for Brenley, and twice for Ander.


    Guilty on every count.


    They were all guilty. They would go to prison forever.


    Kristin felt relieved but not happy.


    He just wanted his brother.


    Kristin gripped the mouse tight.


    He glanced over at Kansas and saw her crying. Beside him, he heard Zip sniffle. Tears watered in Kristin''s eyes.


    The Trinity was guilty, and so was Chad.


    It was over.


    xxxx


    A week later Kristin felt ready to leave the camp.


    He wanted to go to the bluffs and see Ashley in the only way he could.


    They all piled into the car. Zip drove, like usual. Ferris opened the passenger seat and gestured for Kristin to get in. Ren took the seat behind him, and Charlie took the middle.


    Twenty minutes into the drive, Kristin glanced back and saw Charlie asleep on Ferris''s shoulder and Ferris dozing against the window.


    Kristin watched the cars drive by, one by one. He wondered what they were up to, if they knew about Ashley. If they''d remember Ashley as Ashley, or as one of the people the Trinity killed. He hoped the former.


    Zip piloted the car down through the Warren, and then up the winding road to Cat''s Cradle.


    Kristin looked out the window, out onto the familiar streets he had spent years living on. He saw places he and Ashley had slept, curled up together for warmth. Places they''d worked. He saw new buildings under construction and old ones he''d walked by a thousand times, run down and leaning to the side.


    But eventually they left Cat''s Cradle, and Zip drove up to the bottom of the bluffs.


    Zip parked the car, and Kristin took a minute to ready himself before getting out. The group waited for him outside. Everyone remained quiet.


    Mixed feelings flickered within Kristin, snapping back and forth like a flag in the wind. Grief, relief, sadness, some far-off feeling of peace that he wanted.


    The bluffs were chilly and breezy, and Zip offered Kristin a jacket, which he took with a soft thanks.


    Kristin looked up at the path. It still zig-zagged up the side of the bluffs, overgrown grass damp with rain. Bushes grew along the path.


    Kristin blinked and found himself back when he was at the bluffs a year earlier, heart still aching and unable to accept Ashley''s death. He still couldn''t really now. He''d cradled Ashley''s urn in his arms, the last hug he would ever get from his brother, as one-sided as it was. He still remembered the cool touch of the metal, the weight in his arms that felt so foreign but it was all he had.


    Ferris started up the path, with Charlie trailing a half step behind. Kristin followed behind, Ren and Zip walking after him.


    The plants along the path had grown in further than they had a year ago, and Kristin had to push young, spindly branches out of the way with his shins as he walked. He spotted a couple butterflies fluttering amongst the leaves and flowers.


    No one spoke as they all made their way up to the top.


    Cat''s Cradle sprawled out below, a mishmash of buildings that leaned against each other. Grasses grew down the slope of the bluffs.


    Kristin found Ashley''s tree and sat down on a rock beside it. The sapling was a little bigger now with a year''s worth of growth. New needles grew in bright green bundles that were soft to the touch.


    The rest of the group settled down on nearby rocks. Ferris shrugged on a jacket and zipped it up. Charlie wrinkled her nose against the cold. Zip curled up on a rock, and Ren settled down, closing their eyes and resting their chin on their interlaced fingers.


    "Hey, Ashley," Kristin whispered, looking out over the bluffs. A gust of wind blew by, stirring the grasses around the group. Kristin hoped it carried his voice all the way to his brother.


    "We got them," Kristin continued, feeling the weight of Ferris''s gaze on him. "We got the Trinity and Chad. We got them, so you can rest easy now. It''s over."