"Zahla, just calm down...he'll be home any minute," Mr. Giles says as I enter through the front door.

She whips around and points a finger at me, her eyes like daggers, if looks could kill. She marches up to me and pokes me in the chest, breathing heavily as her eyes twitch. She's never been so worked up before, and she's never come home early.

"What did you do?!" She shouts.

"What?" I ask, looking over at Mr. Giles, and he shrugs, appearing as confused as I am.

"I'm asking what you did! Why does the Boss want to suddenly see you?" She seethes.

"I dunno, whoever the Boss is, they really want my money so that's why I guess," I shrug.

She scoffs and runs her fingers through her hair, shaking her head. She moves to the staircase, and I exchange a worried glance with Mr. Giles. He nods and steps in her pathway, holding up his hands. She freezes and stares down at him, eyes narrowing.

"What?" She says sharply.

"Just hold on, Zahla, we're still talking and-" Mr. Giles starts, and Zahla shoves him aside.

"No, this conversation is over," She says.

I sprint after her and grab her shoulder. She whips around and grabs my hand, lifting it and squeezing it tightly. She looks over at my hand and fingers, her eyes widen and flare. She points at my left ring finger.

"Where's your wedding ring?" She asks, her voice dripping with venom.

Mr. Giles looks on and takes a sharp inhale, muttering "Good luck, kid" and walking into the back room, great some help he is. I take a moment to gather my thoughts. Telling the truth would expose Nis to danger; lying would expose me to danger. Is there any way out of this?

"Why do you care? It's not like we're in love," I say.

"That wasn't my question. Where's your wedding ring?" She responds, squeezing my wrist tighter.
"I lost it," I say, looking away from her.

"Do you seriously expect me to believe that?" She snaps back.

I go silent. This isn't good. What to do now? I can't tell her the truth, but I can't lie to her either; she can see right through me. I stare at her, my brain desperately attempting to come up with an answer to her. She scoffs and drops my wrist, shaking her head.

"Whatever," She says and continues up the stairs.

I rush up after her, she unlocks the door and enters, looking around suspiciously. I try to keep her at a distance away from the bedroom, but she seems to sense my intention and locks onto the bedroom door. I jump in front of the door before she can open it.

"Who is she? Taking off your wedding ring, hiding her in the bedroom? You wanna play games, Kyne? I'll show you a game," She suddenly grabs the collar of my shirt and slams me hard against the door.

Before I have a chance to respond, she pulls a knife out and presses it against my neck, a hint of mania clouding her eyes. I gulp as I feel a trickle of blood from the pressure. She leans in close, her warm breath tickling my ear, her long hair brushing against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Move, boy," She whispers with authority.

I think about her finding Nis inside, in the state she's in now, who knows what she'll do to her. I close my eyes tightly, searching my mind for any solution, although unable to come up with any answer to my dilemma, one memory surfaces.

I was sitting in my bed, and my mother had just finished reading a bedtime story to me. I asked her what it meant to save someone, like the hero of the story. She smiles and kisses my forehead.

"To save someone? Good question, kiddo," She set down the book and tucked herself in next to me.

"To save someone is to protect them with your body and soul, and you save all of them and help them, no matter how they are struggling. Do you have someone you want to save Kyne?" She continues.

"You! And Daddy!" I would reply, holding onto her.

She laughs and rubs my head, nodding and holding me close.

"Good, save who you can, Kyne."

I snap back to reality, knife to my throat, a whisper so cold and fierce it shakes my bones under my skin. I open my eyes and meet Zahla's gaze. Although I don't speak a word, her eyes linger on me, trying to subjugate me. I hold my gaze sternly, and she narrows her eyes and leans back, letting go of me.

"Fine," She says, putting the blade away before continuing.

"While it's true I don't love you, and the ring doesn't symbolize loyalty to me, I don't like the idea of some woman taking what I possess. Tell me right now, who is she? I'll know if you're lying to me," She stares at me, her eyes cold and calculating, her hand hovers where she slipped her knife away.

"Someone important to me, someone who I don't harbor any of those feelings for, a friend...family," I choose my words carefully.

"Okay, why don't you want me to see her?" She asks, her expression remaining the same.

"I don't trust you," I say.

She looks at me, her eyes drift to the bedroom door and back to me, the faintest glimmer of vulnerability surfaces on her face, before returning to its usual stern and commanding look. She nods and sighs.

"Fine, okay, do whatever," She says, turning to walk to the door.

"Where will you be going?" I ask her.

"Away, I doubt we'll see each other again. My part is done here," She responds, holding onto the doorknob.

"Is that right? Alright then," I respond.

She twists the door handle and pushes the door open, staring down the stairway before turning to me, her eyes sparkle and overflow with tears. Never before has she looked so gorgeous.

"When did you finally grow up?" She asks through teary eyes before exiting and slamming the door behind her.

I stand there in shock, hearing the downstairs door slam shut, and then hearing the roar of her car's engine as she peels off. I don't need to look out of the window to know she's going East again, for the last time.

Mr. Giles opens the door and enters, looking at me and then looking over at the bedroom door. I nod, and he walks up to me, suddenly pulling me in and hugging me tight.

"Kid, that took some guts, I heard it all from the stairs," He says.

"Thanks," I mutter out, still shocked about Zahla's behavior.

"What did she mean when she said her part was over?" I ask.

"I mean, you took off the wedding ring, so I assume she meant the marriage?" Mr. Giles suggests.

"Maybe," I say, something festering in the back of my mind.

"I'll let you get some rest, kid, I'll cook up something nice for you and Nis in the morning," He says, walking out.

I sit down on the couch, thinking everything through. The Patron knew my parents, so did Mr. Giles, and Mr. Giles knew the Patron. That must mean the Organization knows about the Patron, too, and by extension, my parents had to have known about the Patron? Ugh, none of this makes any sense; there are pieces I'm missing. How did the Patron know so much about my parents and me? And what did Zahla mean by "my part is done here"?

I look out the window. The snow has stopped falling. I sigh and lean back on the couch. I should ask the Patron about it tomorrow; he's got to know more than he's letting on. More about Nis, more about my parents, and more about the Organization.

I lay down on the couch and get comfortable, closing my eyes and falling asleep. Sleep comes quickly, and before I know it, I feel the bright rays of sunshine across my face. I mumble and get up, yawning and stretching. I look over to see Nis on the far end of the couch next to me, sleeping. She must've gotten up in the night to join me out here.

"Hey," I say, poking her arm.

She slowly opens her eyes and smiles, getting up and looking at me with sleepy eyes, the bright blue hidden away by her eyelids, attempting to seal them away. I rub her head and laugh, pulling her up.

"Come on, Mr. Giles said he'll have breakfast for us," I say, making her eyes widen with anticipation. She nods, slightly drooling now.

I hold out my hand, and she grabs onto it as we venture downstairs. Mr. Giles smiles and waves; he's like an entirely different person now. My mind drifts back to Zahla's last expression. I frown. She seemed so sad in that moment. I'm suddenly tugged back to reality as Nis squeezes my hand, looking up at me worriedly.

"I'm alright, Nis, let's dig in, okay?" I reassure her, and she nods, rushing for the table and digs into the feast.

Mr. Giles and I laugh at her insatiable appetite. He comments on how she needs to save some for the rest of us, and she responds by stealing one of his pancakes and sticking her tongue out at him.

I smile and return to my thoughts. Today is the twenty-first of December, and I still need sixteen million and nine hundred thousand by the thirty-first. Additionally, Nis's birthday is the twenty-sixth. So I have eleven days, including today.

"Kyne, you okay?" Nis asks, tugging on my arm.

"Of course, sorry I was in my own mindspace," I say, smiling.

Nis nods, she clearly doesn't believe what I'm saying, but she doesn't press for any more details. I look at the clock and finish my coffee. I have to meet with the Patron soon. Nis looks over at me with a pleading look as I stand up.

"I won't be gone long, Nis," I say.

"I'm worried about how much of you will return," She says.

I frown and kneel to her, pulling her in for a hug. I rub her head and pat the pocket she's keeping the ring in to remind her of my promise. She nods and lets go, giving me a sad smile.

"Careful, kid," Mr. Giles says.

I nod and put my coat and boots on, waving them off and making my way to Sinbad Park. The walk seems longer than usual; perhaps it's because Nis isn't here with me this time. Everyone is still out shopping before Christmas. I pass the toy store and look at the large CLOSED sign hung in the display window. I linger a bit longer than necessary before continuing.

I arrive at the park, and the Patron is already there, sitting on the bench. I walk up behind him and sit down next to him. He looks over at me with his eyes, they're old now, nothing like the childish gaze that lingered there previously.

"Hey, Buddy," He says, his voice sounds hoarse as if he's been crying.

He looks tired, his usual bubbly personality replaced by an empty look. He stares down at the snow; aside from in front of the sign, the snow all across Sinbad Park is filthy. His eyes weigh heavily in their socket, and the folds under his eyes suggest they might fall out. I look away, not wanting to stare at his face any longer.

"What's the plan today?" I ask.

He frowns, knowing what I mean, he sets down his suitcase and a briefcase he brought along. He opens the suitcase and pulls out all sorts of knives and surgical equipment. I imagine each one stabbing into me and pulling me apart. He looks over at me and sighs.

"I don't enjoy this, or maybe I used to, but not anymore," He says in a monotone voice.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Who knows anymore?" He asks.

I stare at him awkwardly, waiting for him to say something else, but he just looks at the tools with a dead gaze. I clear my throat, and he looks over at me and nods, pulling them fully out.

"Did you ever get your wisdom teeth removed?" He asks.

"Uh, no, they never needed to pull them out," I respond.

He nods, pulling a set of pliers out. They seem sturdy but not sharp like the ones used to remove fingernails. He runs his hand across it and gently taps it in his palm. He looks at me and holds them out. I gulp and take them from his hand.

"They say removing your wisdom teeth makes you stupider, or at the very least unwise. But I would wager removing any part of yourself would make you stupider or unwise," He gives me a sad smile before continuing.

"Before I met you, anyway. You seem smarter the more you take away, like a cocoon shedding its exterior so you can emerge reborn and beautiful," He says.

"What do you know about my parents? And Nis? And the Organization?" I ask, ignoring his philosophy.

He frowns and points to the pilers and then taps his own jaw, nodding. I stare at him and tremble; he wants me to remove a tooth. I wince at the mere thought of that pain. He gives me a sad nod.

"I'll give you a million per tooth you pull," He says.

"Will you answer my questions?" I probe.

"One, one of them I'll answer," He responds.

I think about the question I want answered the most: my parents, Nis, or the Organization itself. Before I can answer him, he interrupts my thoughts.

"Only after you pull as many teeth as you wish," He says.

I look down at the pliers and steel myself for what's about to come. I'll only do two, my back molars. That's all, no more. No less. I grip the pliers until my hand turns white, I carefully push them to my bottom back molar and squeeze down on it. I start to pull at it with a sickening crack, the tooth ripping out of my mouth with force. I scream in pain as it drops to the floor. As the adrenaline is coursing through me, I put the pliers in again and wrap them around the other side, pulling roughly and yanking it out. I drop the pliers to the ground and start shoveling snow in my mouth to ease the pain.

He picks up the teeth and bags them up as he opens his briefcase, counts for a while, and nods, setting the contents at my feet, waiting for me to recover and ask my question. I feel slightly better as the snow and ice help with the pain. I arrive at my answer and look at him.

"Okay, my question is this then. What do you know about the Organization?" I ask.

"I used to work with them; under their old Boss, he was a tyrant. The new Boss, she's even worse," He starts.

"Who is she? Tell me about her," I demand.

"Her name is Mary, she's responsible for most drug and human trafficking around these parts, she's the same age as you, actually. Her philosophy is simple: she's above everything and everyone. She's the one responsible for your parents' death," He says.

"But how? She would've been thirteen by then," I respond.

"She was born evil, from her very first breath, she took the life of her mother, and from then on, she never stopped. Killing was second nature to her by thirteen, she ordered your parents' death because their debt wasn't lowering and they wouldn't give me up," He says.

"You?" I ask and he nods.

"Why you?" I ask.

"Can't answer that one yet, Buddy. Anyways, your parents didn't want you to witness them get gunned down, so they took it upon themselves to take that swan dive to protect you from the truth," He says, standing up.

"Will you tell me more?" I ask.

"Eventually, but all good things come in small doses," He tips his hat and walks away.