My brothers and I sat in our dorm room, separate from the others in the academy. Since there were normally five of us, we had our own dorm. The Charmings' dorm, they called it. Usually, it was fun and full of laughter, but today ... it was deathly silent.

There was me—Henry—Han, Hal, and Hugo. We sat around my bed, staring at each other in silence. Only a single light illuminated the corners of the five-bed room. It seemed to be empty without Harold there with us.

Hugo, the youngest, broke the silence. "Do you think he's in Heaven?" he asked.

It was the first time we had dared to speak of Harold after his death at Hansel and Gretel's. We had kept up a strong front before those who had witnessed Harold's death, but now my own tears threatened to spill over. People seemed to forget that I, too, had seen Harold die. It was unspeakably painful, to have been a witness to my own brother's death. It had been bad enough to bury Theseus. Now my own brother had been laid to rest that day ...

Han rubbed his upper lip, a sure sign that he was hiding his true feelings. "I'm sure he is," he said in his normal aloof manner. "You wouldn't find a kinder soul in the whole academy than Harold."

"Then why did he die?" Hal asked. "It doesn't seem right. Harold wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Was it possible that they were aiming for Beauty?" Han questioned, using our jocular name for Belle.

I considered it carefully. It was possible, if not completely logical, and it brought up a good point. "We'll have to keep an eye on her," I said. Easier to think about protecting Belle than losing Harold. "It would be an insult to Harold's memory if something happened to her."

"His memory," Hugo whispered, sounding like his voice was on the verge of breaking. "How can we go from teasing him about his girlfriend to weeping for him at his funeral? It just seems so unfair!" He broke off and covered his face with his hands, crying.

I pulled him up onto the bed beside me, cradling him as my own cheeks felt wet with tears. He buried his face in my shoulder; he had always been the most emotional of all of us. It burned inside of me that he would have to undergo this sort of pain. That all my brothers would have to feel the heartrending grief.

Silence reined over all of us. Conversation was useless. Hugo had set a precedent and we were all crying, though none of us wanted to show it. We were supposed to be strong for everyone. It was strange that I felt like that, when we were the ones who had lost a member of our family. The thought of crying in front of Snow was alien to me. I had to be strong for her.

Slowly, I turned off the light and we all went to bed. The room was plunged into darkness, and I stared at the ceiling. I, too, had been plunged into darkness, both mind and soul.

I would not rest, I vowed, until I had found the killer.