Auntie Morgan spends the next few minutes reassuring herself that her Oregon 'Oreo' of a husband is the one calling her now. Cold sweat soaks my back at the guilt and shame that begin to bite my insides.

What if Uncle Oregon finds out that I'm using his name to do a crime? And how will Auntie Morgan react if she knows that it's me all this time, instead of her husband?

You must keep going. You don't come this far for nothing.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes as I let the surrounding nature to comfort me with its gently rippling river and the music of the awakened crickets. "Aunt—er, Morgan." I cut her rambling short. "How are you?"

She clicks her tongue, and the sound of a fallen item resounds from the other side. Grunting, she answers, "The only good thing about this savage aquarium is that we have our cells. A funny thing I realized when I went to the canteen for breakfast one day was how we were sorted into a section with similar criminal activities." Another fallen item, this time sounding like a metallic clang, echoes. "See, in this section, there are Otniel and Marion, also Mr. Alvaro—Allice's boss..."

"Mr. Alvaro?" I grip my trousers tightly. What brought Mr. Alvaro to the glass prison? "What did he do?"

"Oreo, dear, you don't even remember this guy. He's a pretty grumpy man, though he has a soft spot for our too-innocent-to-be-true nephew..."

"Just tell me, Morgan." My cheeks heat up in an instant. Is that a compliment? She never calls me anything of that kind before, since I first started living together with her and Miro. "I might not remember, but it's good to just... er, hear some stories. Uh, I"—Beezus, it's a miracle if Auntie Morgan hasn't lifted half of her eyebrows yet—"it's been a while since I called you."

Auntie Morgan chuckles, but it can be mistaken as an elephant's snort. "That's too sugary of you, Oreo. You just called me from a public booth yesterday, and you've already felt that it's too long."

Blessed mother of ostriches... I'll be in serious trouble if this goes on. I must confirm my identity near the end of the call to not cause a rift between them. Moreover, both of them are so headstrong against each other whenever they argue.

"But anyway, Allice's boss at Daily Dose occupies the cell next to mine. We talked a bit during breakfast yesterday, and he said he got here because he refused an order. Our monkey of a mayor contacted him—since he was the Advertising Manager—and Jorge wanted to place an ad on Daily Dose of things like... you know, warning the citizens of some underground rebellion movements, or to help the search for Allice..."

I swallow a huge lump down my throat, yet my body feels empty, as if its energy has been sucked dry. Again, I cause more trouble. Though it wasn't the only factor why Mr. Alvaro got jailed, but still... I played a part in it too.

When will people stop sacrificing themselves for me?

"Anyway, can you wait for a minute? There's something I must do." Some static crackles explode from the line. It's like she walks away from the telephone, taking the crackling source along with her. Soon, there's another sound, like an opened bottle cork, followed by a subtle hiss. Her footsteps approach the telephone once more, and with hushed whispers, she says, "This might take a while to spread, but..."

"What did you do?"

After minutes of awkward silence, her voice returns to its normal volume. "That's a Sealer Smoker. It's like an aromatherapy jar, but its smoke can prevent any sounds from getting out of the area. A lot of inmates are smuggling tricky items into the prison, just to annoy the officers... or to do more illegal things. I just bought it this morning."

I stifle a groan with a bite on my lip. Auntie Morgan and her habit of wasting money for unnecessary things are still inseparable.

Wait, but if no sounds can escape this fog, should I reveal myself to Auntie Morgan? Or can it wait until the end of the call, in case Clout or his friends are still tracking this phone down? Maybe I shouldn't take the risk, but...

"Now, here is the thing." Her stern and solemn tone brings me back to the call, snapping my attention awake as well. "There are almost a hundred of occupied cells in this 'Against the Government' section. But these past few days, at least ten of them are gone from their cells. We've never seen them ever since we noticed."

An unsettling goosebump tickles my zapped elbow. "Maybe they're already released?" I gradually stop imitating Uncle Oregon's voice since they get my tongue twisted for too many times. "Or maybe they're doing some community services, or maybe a relative paid their bail—"

"No." She must be shaking her head, as the sound of her glasses' frame hits the telephone. "They still have their bags and clothes in their cells. I mean... it was like we last saw them during dinner, and they were gone the next morning; they've never visited the canteen ever since."

Well, that sure is odd. "Have you tried asking the officers?"

Another elephant snort-like chuckle escapes Auntie Morgan's mouth. "They're as useless as an Air Phone without a signal—they barely understand our questions. Either their brains are lizard-sized or they're ordered to do so; I sincerely hope it's the latter." She snickers, as if she's not joking inside of a prison cell, but back at her bedroom.

I force out a short laugh as I form another question inside my head. "Do you have some guesses?"

"Actually"—the Sealer Smoker's hiss interrupts her again—"Mr. Alvaro and I have been trying to find out more, but it's still useless. Though, Otniel's words from several days ago, shortly around the disappearances, kind of stuck in me."

I cross my legs together, sitting straighter against the stone wall. The mention of Dad pours another bucket of ice onto my heart; thanks to me, he misses the chance of getting a proper haircut out of prison.

"Well"—the telephone shifts, as if Auntie Morgan is messing up with it—"he said he saw a group of white-coated men wandering around the prison. You see, all they did was looking into some of the glass cells as if observing fishes in a fish tank." She sighs, mumbling blurred words. "You know me, Oreo. I might not know much of the things happening out there nowadays, but I sure know how they're official scientists."

"How?" I mentally scratch my head. "You weren't there to see them."

She lets out a nervous laugh, and a part of me gets more goosebumps. "When Allice and I came to visit Otniel and Marion, we were taken straight to the canteen. I mean"—another item knocks against a solid surface; either here at the prison or back at the flat, Auntie Morgan never can stay quiet—"not everyone has the permission to wander around like that."

The word 'scientists' immediately leads me to suspect a certain person. Combined with the word 'official', moreover...

"If only there's a way I can prove their involvement," she grumbles, muttering more gibberish under her breath. "I don't mind getting locked up like this, as long as I have enough freedom to do some researches..."

The prison hasn't taken her childlike curiosity away.

I'm about to counter at how she also needs Miro to stay alive, but it might blow my cover-up. So instead, I replace it with another topic. But a clumsily-thought one, of course. "Would you tell me if you find anything new there?" And boy, as a sickly feeling erupts in my stomach, I bite my lips, trying to rebuild the broken dam of curses. "I... I mean, I want to know how it goes there. Your days at the prison."

I might already be sweeter than Uncle Oregon in all these years they've been married.

Auntie Morgan wheezes, letting out a fake chuckle. "You're not cheating on me, aren't you, Oreo? You're never this sweet before, even if you wanted something. It's always me losing."

Again, I gulp my actual reply down. What a smooth lie... as if I hadn't ever been there whenever they argued, which used to end up with Auntie Morgan posing as if she just reached a mountain's peak. She brightens things up, even in the gloomiest of moments. "Of course not, Morgan. Oh, and for your information"—again, I lost control of my mouth—"I'm using my old phone."

A heavy silence lies down, as if a bomb just sweeps through the area, sucking the life out of everything. Maybe this is the first bomb I can drop out of several more.

"Honestly, Dogson's government is growing shadier as the days go by. Do you remember the escaping animals from OCZ? Not to mention, the unnatural weather these days; do you notice how the prison is barely lit by the sunlight lately?"

A thicker silence coats the call. Auntie Morgan is as stiff as a statue. Even her breath barely leaks into the line. The constant rattlings at her continuous movements also stop.

Have the police taken hold of the telephone? Or is the connection gone?

I look at the phone, checking its battery and signal. Both are still fine—

"Then what?" she whispers, a slight tremor in her voice. "What else can you tell me, boy?" There's a huge portion of disbelief and fear in her words.

The guilt that once gripped my heart grows bigger, as if nearly exploding. "A source from The Office also said there's just been a delivery at the harbor, possibly coming from a nation-wide technology devices factory. The Mayor also just finished a ceiling-high robot, armed with some animals' abilities." A small smile tilts across my face, in sync with the overflowing relief in my chest after spilling out these important tidbits.

Hopefully, they're enough to feed her information-deprived brain.

A low sniff comes from the other side, baiting my curiosity. "The smoke's effect won't last any longer. Once it's gone, you must cut the call, do you understand?" There's a lingering sternness in her voice which forces me to obey, though a part of me disagrees.

"Thank you, Morgan." I let out a shaky breath as the phone trembles in my hand, driven by my grogginess. Her soft sniffs also trigger my tears to appear, and no matter how many times I've tried to blink them back, they won't surrender. They pool on the verge of my eyes, instead. "Do stay strong over there. I'm sorry I got you there, too..."

Auntie Morgan chuckles, a tearful hint in her tone. "Don't be. I've always known how great things await you, and leaving us behind might be a way to discover yourself. I mean, no lie"—she barks out a shaky laugh—"you're always acting unlike yourself, as if only following the demands of others around you."

As I drown in frozen silence, processing her words and Grand-Mad's, another chilly hiss sneaks through the call. Soon after, more spraying is heard, though they grow weaker after each attempt.

"The smoke is thinning; you have to go," she whispers. "This must be the last time you do this, do you understand? It's too dangerous for you guys. Leave, now."

Before either of us ends the call, I open my mouth and mutter a faint, "Miro and I think it's less fun without you around." But when no replies come from the other side after a few seconds, a painful weight tugs my chest down, and I mourn over the seconds I didn't use well enough.