We arrive back, Mr. Giles lighting up at the sight of Nis. I nod to him and bring her upstairs. He follows us up and sits on the couch. I hand over the briefcase, and he takes a look inside with a solemn expression. A question lingers on his lips as he looks my body over.

"No, I didn't do what you think I did," I say, reading his gaze.

"What happened?" He asks.

I set Nis down and rub her head. She smiles up at me and walks over to my bedroom, sensing the tension between Mr. Giles and me. I wait until she's fully out of view before explaining everything that happened to him, and he nods, his expression focused and empathetic.

"Damn, kid. I'm sorry. He's an evil man, no doubt about it," Mr. Giles says.

I nod, of course, I knew he wasn't a good man, but between him and the Boss, I would pick him any day. I can stop seeing him anytime I want, but I need to repay the Boss. I wince thinking about the money; there's still almost seventeen million left in debt. Mr. Giles pats me on the back.

"Anything you need, kid, come to me," He says, standing up.

"You've changed," I respond.

"I ain't the only one, you're really growing up, kid, I hardly recognize you." He chuckles and waves, walking out of the room.

I smile, he's a softie, a big softie at heart. I stand up and walk over to my bedroom. Nis is on the bed already, fast asleep. How anyone could harm an innocent youth is beyond my comprehension. I pull the blankets over her and remove her boots and coat, setting them on the ground. I stare at them for a moment. It makes me remember when I was her age and I was gifted brand new boots for Christmas.

"Kyne, those look so good on you!" My mother squeals, clasping her hands together.

"You're growing up to be a fine man," My father nods, taking a puff of his pipe.

I walk over to the mirror we have in the living room and stare at my reflection. I had a black beanie my grandmother knitted and a coat with patches on it, some old hand-me-down, but I always loved it. The boots were shining, not expensive, but compared to my wardrobe, they definitely stood out. They were beautiful, sure, but the thing that caught my eye wasn't the boots, but rather my parents' expressions. They had such love in their eyes.

"Thank you," was all I managed to choke out before running to them for a hug.

My mind drifts back to the present, looking at her boots. I smile thinking of them; they were sweet and patient. Never afraid of teaching me new things, even with my adventurous side. I walk over to the closet in my room and set her boots inside. I look up at a box sitting on the top shelf. It's one of those things that blends into your background, something you never care to acknowledge.

I pull down the box labeled "Memories". I smile and click both sides open, setting aside the large lid and looking inside. There's a bunch of papers and mundane objects, but then I see them tucked away in the corner, my old boots.

"Nice," I say to myself, pulling them out.

As I pull them out, a note falls out of them. I raise my eyebrow and pick it up, unfolding it and reading it. It's a note I wrote that day, the day I got the boots, it's addressed to my parents.

"Dear Mommy and Daddy, thank you for the new boots! I love them! When I grow old enough to buy something for you guys, I'll buy matching sets!"

I stare down at the note, tears filling my eyes. Yes, I had forgotten about that promise, one I never got the chance to keep. I look over to Nis, and a shiver runs down my spine. No, that's one promise I have to keep, no matter what. I tuck the note in my pocket and place the boots in the box, putting it back in my closet.

I grab my wallet and shut the bedroom door carefully. I walk out the front door and lock it behind me. Walking down into the shop, I look over at Mr. Giles. He looks at me and then looks upstairs, giving me a nod and thumbs up.

"I'll look after her kid," He says as I walk out.

I put on my coat and walk into the brisk breeze. I walk down the shopping district and glance over at the toy shop. Cops have it blocked off and are swarming the area. I sigh and continue further down the street, entering a specific store. The bell chimes above me as a middle-aged bald man with a mustache and glasses glances up from his newspaper.

"Hey! Welcome to my shop, whatcha looking for?" He asks.

I put my order in, and he nods, bagging them up and hands it over as I hand him the cash. He smiles and waves me out. I walk further into the heart of town until I finally reach my destination, the cemetery. I haven't been here since they died.

I walk to the far north of the graveyard until I find it, their grave. I never visited here because I knew it would make me sad to see how empty the grave was, but to my surprise, a fresh bouquet of roses lay atop the grave, my father's favorite flower. I think of Mr. Giles and I smile, that old geezer, what a teddy bear. I set the bag down and reach inside, pulling out two sets of boots and setting them to either side of the grave.

"Here, Mother...Father...I promised I would, sorry it took me so long," I saw kissing my fingers and placing them on their stone.

I take out the note in my pocket and place it in the boots. There, now my promise to you is fulfilled. Please don't worry about me, I'll be okay. Look away, please, don't watch over me anymore, I beg you.

"I never took you for the sentimental type," A voice calls out behind me.

I whip around to see the Patron holding a bouquet of daisies, my mother's favorite flower. I open my mouth to respond, but find it dry and unable to produce any sound. He nods and sets the flowers down and reaches into the boot, pulling out the note and reading it. A flicker of emotion registers in his eyes as he stares down at the page. A tear falls out of his eyes, and he nods.

"Beautiful, truly, so beautiful, Kyne," He says and sets the note back.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

He gives me a small, sad smile and kneels on the ground, patting the spot next to him. I reluctantly kneel next to him, and he presses his hands together and looks at me expectantly. Is he praying?

"I didn't take you for the religious type," I say.

He laughs and nods, looking up to the sky, the snow reflecting in his eyes and giving it a newfound beauty. I turn my attention to the sky as well, watching as the snow falls with a newfound grace, almost as if it enjoys being watched.

"Do you think the clouds love the sky?"

Nis's words echo in my head, and I smile. I'm sure right now, the clouds are jealous of the snow, watching it fall so wonderfully.

"Why is snow white?" The Patron asks.

"What?" I ask.

"The snow, why is it white?" He repeats.

"I dunno, probably to do with ice particles or something sciencey," I respond.

"The color white is a pure color; nothing else leaks into white. When the snow falls, it's pure, but when it touches the earth, it mixes with other colors, making it filthy," He says, holding his hand out.

"Earth, or when it touches humanity?" I ask.

He smiles and clenches his fist around the snowflakes. He looks over at me and reaches into his pocket, pulling out the sharp pliers. I tense up knowing what comes next. Before I have the chance to speak, he drives the pliers under his pointer fingernail and rips it off, taking more than just his fingernail off as the entire top of his finger clips off.

I jolt up, watching the wound gush blood on the snow, the red spreading through the white snow. He watches as it bleeds.

"Red is a pure color, but like any other color, when it comes into contact with snow, it pollutes it," He says, expressionless.

"I don't understand what you're saying," I say.

"Your parents, they were snow, pure and innocent, until they met with the color red," He says, his face taking on a pained expression.

"How did you know my parents?" I ask cautiously.

"Maybe it was in a dream, or maybe not. I can't remember anymore, my memories don't feel like my own, they're someone else's I just inherited," He says, watching the wound continue to bleed.

What is he talking about? He's crazy. Well, I already knew that, but this is crazier than I expected from him. I kneel back down and grab one of his bandages, wrapping it around his finger. He looks at me with a childlike expression, his face looks young, and his eyes no longer harbor a great orange blaze but a soft, warm burn.

"Sorry, I don't know who I am half the time," He mumbles.

"It's fine, you just don't make sense ever," I respond, wrapping his finger completely and standing back up.

He nods, looking down at the red snow. He frowns, pulls out a large envelope, and hands it to me. I take it and open it; there's a decent bundle of cash in here. Counting it, it's about seventy thousand.

"What's this for?" I ask.

"Listening to the rambles of an old man, now get out of here, we'll talk again later," He stares at the bloody snow, no longer responsive.

I stand there and nod, looking back at the flowers and boots. I smile to myself and walk away from the Patron and the graveyard. I walk back to my place. On the way, I pass by the toy shop again, and a crowd has formed as they wheel out a body. I look away and clench my teeth. I keep my head down the rest of the way back.

As I arrive outside, my heart stops in my tracks. A car is parked outside the shop, not a customer's car, Zahla's. She's arrived back home early. I think about Nis in the bedroom, and my whole body tenses up. If Zahla sees her, there's no doubt she'll report her findings to the Organization, and who knows what they'll do. I have to stop her from getting upstairs, no matter what.