For what felt like infinity, Luka had been sitting with his back to a tree. He had long pocketed his glasses; they were useless in the fog.

At some point, his ears picked up on the crackling of twigs. It wasn't long before a set of feet came to stand in front of him. He picked up his head and squinted his eyes.

Iris looked at him with worry. "Are you okay? It's hard to see, isn't it..."

He picked himself up. "I'm alright." He gave her a weak smile. "Let's get out of here."

Iris nodded as she started walking.

Luka followed closely behind, but not without twisting his neck to stare back at the path his cousin had taken. He'll come back, I know he will.

Their journey was a silent one. "I'll be off, now," was was Iris told him when they finally exited the forest.

"Bye." He trekked towards Damien's SUV. Most of the commotion had died down by now. Only two police cars remained now. But there was an ambulance that he didn't see until later.

Stretcher after stretcher was being rolled into its rear. He couldn't make out the faces—they were all hidden under cloths, but he could imagine the jewel on each of their earlobe.

His father was nearby, speaking with another officer. The former saw Luka and approached.

Cameron was right before him, but he kept his gaze on the ambulance door as it closed behind his cousins. They suffered as they went. He was sure of it. They probably felt pain like no other.

"They were my orders, so you can yell at me. I'll take it."

A fury of words crowded on the edge of Luka's tongue. They remained there, though; he quickly learned that he was much too drained to argue.

"It wasn't their fault, it..." He sighed. "It wasn't them. They didn't have to-to die." Really, his words formed on their own.

Cameron removed his hands from inside his vest and pressed a palm to Luka shoulder. "How do you feel? If you're dizzy, you have to tell me."

Gradually, the other officer emerged, talking business as he did. "You got it, Captain," he ended the conversation into his radio. "Cam, before you go, who did you say gave you the tracker?"

"Damien Ruhl," Cameron replied, but it looked like the officer was only half-listening.

He was looking in Luka's direction. "Is this your boy I finally get to meet? Luka, was it? I'm Lieutenant Morales, nice to meet you."

Luka met the outstretched hand with his. The handshake was weak.

The lieutenant hummed in understanding. "It's been a long morning, hasn't it. I know they were your cousins."

"It wasn't their fault." Luka was still in a trance.

Morales' reply began with a stutter. "Because... they're your cousins?"

His dad laughed nervously. "Don't mind that, More, he's just saying things."

"I'll decide how I do my job, Cam." He pulled out a small notepad from his pocket. "I'm actually a detective. If you don't mind, what do you mean that it wasn't their fault?"

Dimitri's episode had been flashing in Luka's mind. It held his face in agony. "They were made that way with drugs."

"Drugs..." Morales was scribbling it all down.

Luka pointed at his ear. "It was nicotine. Their earrings are proof."

Cameron pinched the bridge of his nose. "Luka, let's not make assumptions on things we don't know about. You're probably dizzy because of everything that's gone on. It's got to be a symptom of the MTS. Your mind, it... it finds ways to excuse certain things out of pity."

It was the last sentence that stuck so painfully to Luka's throat. The words morphed to spell delusional psychopath.

Is that who I am? Is that all I... do?

His father stepped towards him. "Let's head out, buddy."

Morales extended his arm over Cameron's chest. "Come on, man. He's your son, and you're brushing him off."

"I—"

"Luka, are you saying the way they act has to do with those earrings?"

The boy gave no response. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Not even of himself.

Morales tried again, this time with a lower voice. "My men suspected some kind of gas leaking from the Leroux house. We weren't sure why, but it was in every bedroom except the master. What you've said just brought me a step closer to the truth."

Luka shook his head. "Or I'm excusing things like I always do."

Morales placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's why people like me exist. To investigate." He pat him twice. "Don't be hard on yourself. Alright. I'll be off. Nice meeting you. And Cam. You have until tonight."

"I hear you."

Luka was steered in a different direction with his dad's arm on his back. "What does he mean, you have until tonight?"

"I... the... Prison, Luka."

Luka's steps became groggy. It hadn't occurred to him until now that he would be starting university with his dad behind a cell.

"Oh."

"We're... riding with Damien since I don't have access to my cruiser. They're staying at ours; More wants to do a search on the Ruhl house."

They reached the vehicle, and Luka got into the back. Evaughn was on the other side. Cameron plopped onto the passenger.

"Hi, Vaughn," Luka greeted.

"Hi."

In the driver's seat, Damien's hands were stiff on the wheel. "Luka, do you mind... driving for me?"

Luka tilted his head. He stole a glance at the man from the rearview mirror, and could make out a scared expression. Scared of driving...? He'd driven before, and it was alright...

Evaughn also looked curious, but he didn't seem to mind the proposed change in seating arrangements.

Cameron frowned. "Huh? What for?"

Luka slipped his eyewear on. "I don't mind. The fog's not as bad anymore."

"Thank you. Really."

*

With the fog nearly dissipated, Evaughn chose to bask in the sunlight on the porch stairs of the Altair residence. He always liked the fresh air.

His father had been hesitant to leave him outside, so Cameron called a police car to stand by for them. It was stationed just across the street. The two men were inside, and the boys outside.

Evaughn's knees were folded to create a table for his arms. To his left, Luka was leaned back, his palms on the concrete.

Evaughn parted his lips. "I'm sorry, by the way."

Luka's torso was at an incline away from him, so Evaughn couldn't see his expression, but he did hear him shift somehow.

"I said a lot of mean things to you. None of it was true. I don't think you're a psychopath, or that you're weird." He stared ahead at nothing. "If anyone's weird, it's me."

"Weird... how?"

Evaughn lowered his chin onto his arms and mumbled. "I don't know what I was thinking, or if I was thinking at all."

"Wait. What do you mean?"

His eyes slid over. Luka had straightened, wearing a lost expression which reminded Evaughn that he wasn't aware of the truth. That is, that he had chosen to be at the auction.

"N-Never mind."

He was thankful that Luka didn't push further.

They sat in silence until Evaughn posed the next. Really, he spent the last minute rehearsing how he'd phrase the question. "What do you think about my da-Damien?" And he messed up anyway.

Luka hummed in thought. Then he had the nerve to say, "You first."

Evaughn narrowed his eyes, incredulous.

Luka chuckled, then with a final breath to conclude his laugh, he pushed his glasses in place. "I think you should make your own opinion on him."

Evaughn looked at the floor. "I already have..."

"Hm?"

"Nothing." He pointed his knees to the front door. "Where's your restroom?"

"Awh, you're leaving me out here?"

"You'll survive."

"Haha. Go towards the kitchen and make a left."

"Alright."

Evaughn had made a small wave at Damien when he walked past the living room. He'd gotten a head nod in return, and now he was in the bathroom, replaying the scene for the tenth time as he ran his hands under water for the third minute.

He wore a stupid smile on his face, because as small as it had been, that interaction just proved that this was real.

But then his face dropped.

Come to think of it, Damien had only turned his direction. He was in the middle of a conversation with Cameron, so perhaps the wave distracted him...

"Ugh."

Evaughn finally closed the tap and dried his hands. With sunken shoulders, he pushed the door open.

Reflexively, he stole a glance at the living room. Damien was turnt away, standing towards a wall on which an art piece hung. Cameron was talking about it, but that's not what Evaughn was focused on.

It was Cameron's hand over a wine glass on the coffee table. He dropped something in it and the drink fizzed.

After a gasp, Evaughn staggered towards them.

***

Near Past

Damien sat on the couch in the Altair residence. He scanned the modern interior; it looked like no one lived there. Nothing like his apartment.

Cameron emerged from his kitchen, two glasses in either of his hands. He extended one, and Damien readied himself to refuse, but Cameron was faster.

"It's non-alcoholic."

Damien received the drink, pressed it to his lips, and sipped. "I appreciate it."

Cameron sat on an armchair opposite of Damien. He set down his glass. "Why don't you drink, again?"

"I never really enjoyed it."

He bobbed his head. "I don't know if I can go without a drink, especially today. I haven't even told the wife about all this and she gets home today after a month—oh, travel nurse."

"Does she know you're going to jail at least?"

Cameron put his face in a wince. Damien chuckled.

"Beautiful house, by the way."

"Yeah?" Cameron began to nod. "I bought it for the lawn. And the open plan, I mean it's huge. I don't even turn on the stove, I just... order takeout every day. It's terrible." He laughed. "Let me tell you, I had so much money, I just started buying stupid things, like a... a heated driveway. Who needs a heated driveway in California? Hah!"

Cameron doubled over, slapping the table as he laughed hard for some reason.

Damien's lips curled into a half-smile, but his eyes never betrayed a sense of perplexity.

The commissioner exhaled to compose himself. "And that stupid painting over there. I think it's hideous, but it was expensive, so I bought it." He pointed at a table in a corner. "Just 'cause of the damn price tag. It's so..."

Cameron was so lost in his stories, it was only Damien who saw the door open.

Evaughn walked in and when their eyes met, he raised a palm for a wave. Damien raised his chin in turn, and his son made a straight line to the restroom.

As soon as he was forced to listen to Cameron go on about another purchases he made in his house, Damien sighed.

When he came to, Cameron had rounded the coffee table. "And look at this one." He gestured for him to get up. "Does it say anything to you?"

Damien followed suit, despite how very bored he was. "Uh, not off the top of my head—"

"Wrong. It says a quarter of a million bucks."

"Okay..."

Cameron patted his back twice. He leaned towards the coffee table, then straightened with the drink. "Let's toast, why don't we. To shitty paintings and my last days as a rich man."

Smiling awkwardly, Damien took the glass in his hands.

"D-don't drink that."

He turned at once towards the voice. It belonged to Evaughn, who was full of worry.

"Vaughn. Is something wrong?"

"I... I don't think you should drink that." He flickered his eyes over to Cameron.

Damien studied it intently. Cameron looked as if they were both absurd. "Oh, come on. You drank it just then, didn't you?"

That is true, he wrinkled his forehead to think. But then why is this guy getting defensive?

"It's just a piña colada, man. You tasted it yourself, and I have the same exact drink."

Evaughn stepped forward. "D-Dad, please trust me."

Damien's heart skipped a beat. But before he could verify whether Evaughn had just called him the title, it occurred to him that he didn't know why Cameron was going to jail. A commissioner facing time was unheard of.

He set the drink down and smiled. "I trust you, Vaughn. Would you like to leave?"

"Yes."

To Cameron, he thinned his lips. "We'll be heading out, then. Thank you for having us."

"That's alright. No worries." Cameron smiled softly, offering a hand. When Damien took it, it was yanked downward. "I'm sorry man, you two are my only way out."

"Huh—" At once, every muscle in Damien's body clenched. He gritted his teeth and fell. Through blurred vision, he made out the taser in Cameron's hand; it was heading in Evaughn's direction.

"G-get away from h—agh." Damien tried, his body still in shock. With struggle, he picked himself up. He propelled himself forward but was knocked back by Cameron's fist.

"Shut the hell up, Damien."

Damien clutched his chest and groaned. Luckily, he landed on feet rather than sides.

Out of fear, Evaughn shielded himself. The taser rose.

Damien was quick enough. He yanked Cameron's arm and then shoved his chest away. The man staggered to his couch over which he fell back with a groan.

Panting, Damien regarded his son who was still in shock. When they were close enough, he cupped a forearm of his. "Are you hurt at all?"

"N-No. What about you?"

He shook his head to reply, his eyes wandering for signs of hurt. "He didn't hit ?"

"I promise, d-I'm okay."

For some reason, Evaughn looked away immediately, in forlorn or... embarrassment? Damien couldn't figure out why, nor could he ask; out of nowhere, a woman's voice rung.

"Cameron Altair. Get the hell out of here." Her medical attire was nearly blurry with how fast she approached her husband who was almost recovered from his fall.

Cameron found his footing. "Amanda, I can explain. You'll understand if I—"

His head was thrown to the side when she slapped him hard. "I heard everything from Morales. You're a fucking disgrace, Cam, and in front of Luka. I don't want you in this house again."

"Calm down and I'll tell you why I did what I did. I promise you'll understand." 

"Leave."

At the same time, a police officer entered in. He went straight for Cameron, and started on the cuffs with no second wasted.

"Morales, please listen to me. Please, just. I had to. It's the only way for my family to live. Otherwise, Celine will hurt us."

"Save your breath, man. I knew there was something off." He scoffed. "You're being arrested. We saw that you called Celine an hour ago. I don't need to explain myself any further."

Cameron tried anyway. "I fucked up. I know I did, but now she's holding my family hostage. My wife and my boy. You have to believe me."

The officer tightened the handcuffs before looking into his scared eyes. "We'll keep your family safe. Alright? My promise. Now walk."

Before they could leave, Damien's approach made them stop. Cameron saw him and his face distorted. "What do you want, man? Leave me the hell alone."

"I... you tried to kill me earlier, so tell me. Could it be that you're... L?"

"Huh?! The hell is an L?"

Damien stepped back. "Never mind, then." He looked over his shoulder at Evaughn and nodded. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Wait, you two."

Damien felt the words land on his back. He turned and was looking at Cameron's wife. She thinned her lips.

"Don't leave just yet. Please."

*

Very Near Past

From the doorway, Luka had been a mere observer.

He'd watched his father attempt murder and wished he'd been born blind instead. That way, no one could guilt him for doing nothing.

He dropped his head to stare at his palms. They shook. His entire body shook, for his morals were inconsistent and nothing made much sense because his father had attempted murder.

And against his friend, no less.

Why did he never suspect it? Had he been... delusional again, creating excuses for his father, even if subconsciously.

Is that who I am? Is that all I... do—

Out of nowhere, he was wrapped in warmth.

He blinked away his tears and instantly the stress on his mind became weightless.

"Mom."