Mary looked up at George with pity. He looked lost. His hands shook while he stared at the documents in his hands. Mary wished she could comfort him in some way but she knew nothing of the sort.

She had faced troubles alone for three years, and now the universe had put her brain in reset mode without a backup. It was her place to receive comfort and not offer it. However, in the spirit of ethics, Mary said the words, she thought could help.

"George I'm so sorry."

George walked to her bed and grabbed one of the tin boxes on it. He should have been joyful that the boxes were found but he was not. George Beckham was far from joyous. He was enraged.

He took out the folded papers in the box and spread them out on Mary's bed. The faint smell of old ink and dust caressed George's nostrils. The wooden products smelt more like the source of their existence, after an involuntary subjection to time.

George wasn't sure of what tickled his throat. The musky scent of the papers he sorted or the tears he tried to hold back for the sake of his ego.

"George, I believe you're overwhelmed right now, and I can't say I understand that but I..."

"Please lock the door Mary." George said. He had more bass in his voice.

Mary glanced at George, walked to the door and turned a key buried below the door knob.

After a few minutes, George fell on his knees and let out a rather hysterical laugh. Tears once held back by pride broke free. His heart ached and his ribs were burning up. He had a minute -long panic attack and laughed out again. His tears grew from falling drops to rolling streams.

"It all makes sense now! All those times he hit me for no reason when he came home from work...All the school events he never attended...The way he snorted when I bragged about my high scores in class...The way he cursed at me...Of course terrible fathers with such characteristics do exist but..."

George turned to Mary. He got closer to her and held her hands. His corneas were a deeper shade of red. He looked like one void of sanity.

"How could I not see it Mary?"

"I don't know." Mary replied, completely out of words.

"Why was I so blind all these years?"

"I don't know."

"The signs were all there and yet, I never suspected a thing. Normal teenagers grow suspicious of things like things when their relationship with their parents seem stretched but me? I just walked through time thinking I was the problem."

"I'm sorry." Mary said.

"What're you sorry for? This isn't your fault Mary, it's my dad's. You know what? Screw that! This is my fault. That's right. It's my fault for being a gullible dumb piece of shit!" he flung the documents away. Paper flew on mid-air like over-sized confetti.

George let go of Mary's hands and paced around the room for a while.

After a few minutes, he stared out the window in Melody's room.

The once leafy green of tall trees had a sickly upgrade. The thin stems of trees left bare wasn't a colorful painting, but the dance of brown, red and yellow on branches was quite an appealing site to see.

Birds whistled random tunes and small rodents scurried underneath fallen leaves. There were more leaves and branches on the ground than the normal view of soil. It was the aftermath of night's sudden storm.

"I guess I don't have to go back to high school. That's a relief." George's thought tried to find a silver lining.

His thoughts were true however. Summer was long gone and the so-called short vacation proclaimed by Richard, had become an overstay.

Alice once had a quarrel with Richard about putting off the children's education. Richard answered with a reply that involved moving to California and having a life better than the one they had in San Francisco. As always, Alice accepted his excuses and let the matter die.

George took in a deep breath of the chilly air and puffed out invisible smoke, with an O-shaped mouth. He picked up the documents he tossed away earlier.

He walked back to Mary, sat in front of her and took her hands in his. Her hands were cold. He drew a blanket from her bed and placed it over her shoulders.

"Thank you." she said. Still unsure of the subject, 'how to comfort another human'.

"I've been a fool Mary, but no longer. Now I'm truly free. Free to know the truth without feeling guilty or doubtful of this man." George said, his left hand pointing to an old picture of Richard Beckham, his father.

He held up the documents he read earlier.

They were adoption papers.

Copies of forms with names, dates, lists and signatures piled up in his hand. Adoption papers bearing every detail of a child taken from a foster home. The child was George Daniel Beckham.

"Given name, George Daniel Beckham." George laughed while he read out one of the documents in his hands.

"This stuff is kept sealed in many states and for some reason a man called Richard deemed it wise to keep copies of a dossier in a freaking, suspicious-looking tin box." George laughed.
Mary was confused and knew only the word 'uncomfortable' at that moment.

"Maybe he kept it for a reason." Mary finally said.

"He probably did. The guy is a cupboard with lots of skeletons in it." George said with a forced smile.

"How do you feel?" Mary felt obligated to ask.

"Honestly? I'm having mixed feelings right now. I'm not sure if I should be mad at my parents...foster parents for keeping this a secret or if I should be grateful to them. Don't get me wrong I'm grateful for having a mother like Alice, but Richard's another story. You know, he once yelled the words 'I'm not your father' when he got mad at me. I was in eight grade then, and I brushed it off thinking he was just mad. I get it now." He laughed again.

"True. You should be grateful; for Alice's sake, if not for you father. I'm grateful you grew up this way. You've become an outstanding young man." Mary said. A tiny gleam flinched in George's eyes.
George drew closer to Mary. His breath patted her lips.

Mary stared at the blue in George's eyes. The shade of blue within them could brag to the skies. Unlike how she felt about Todd invading her space a few months ago, Mary felt somewhat peaceful around George. Still, she knew this was wrong.

George's lips were about two inches away from Mary's when she pulled back.

"I'm sorry George but this isn't right in any way. I know you've had feelings for me for sometime but I ignored it because, I felt it was just an infatuation and nothing more. I thought after a few weeks it'd be gone but right now I see it's more than what I thought and I have to stop it. You're an amazing and trustworthy person George, but this? This isn't mutual and it can't be mutual at any point." Mary said.

She had been nothing more than an interlocutor for as long as she could recall, and not the chatty type. It felt strange and thrilling. She took in a deep breath and continued.

"I'm twenty-two and you're turning sixteen in a week. It isn't an insult but a fact that you're not even an adult yet. Sure, age is just a number to kids of this generation but in some states, this is a crime. This isn't about the law George, it's about what's right and this isn't. I'm sorry. If you don't wish to help me recover the truth of myself, I totally understand. Thank you for helping me this far."

George stared at Mary for a while. Even with a bed head, she was beautiful. He stood up, took one more glance at the dossier and dropped it on the floor.

After a while, he closed his eyes for two seconds, let out a deep sigh and walked out of the room, slamming the door after him.

Todd tossed the sac a few steps away in dread. An odd ball, the odd ball of the sac, rolled a few steps more and stopped near a fallen log.

"Rich I asked a fucking question?" Todd asked, on the verge of throwing up.

Richard stared at the odd ball that rolled over. He screamed and then laughed. Then he screamed again.

"She's messing with your head Richard! Pull yourself together! Don't let her get to you!" Richard chanted loudly, slapping his face repeatedly.

Todd grabbed the collar of his brother's Polo shirt.

"What the fuck is going on big bro?!"

"Her revenge." Richard replied.

"What?"

"Revenge Todd! She's getting her revenge prepared and it'll be served fucking cold."

"Who's this 'she'? Is it the blonde you keep talking about?"

"That her. The witch's back from the dead." Richard said with a smile but tears welled up in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." Richard said, eyes on the odd ball stuck beside a fallen log, a few steps away.

"What's going on Richard?"

Richard wiped his eyes and stood up. He hugged Todd who also got up. He took a long look at his brother and the fear in eyes disappeared. Courage filled them.

"I won't let you end up like that." Richard told Todd. He pointed to the odd ball that rolled off a while ago.

"What's happening Richard?" Todd asked completely weary.

Richard took a pair of latex gloves from the left pocket of the jean trousers he wore. He slid the gloves into his hands and after a loud 'snap' he turned to Todd with a smile so bright, it was eerie.

"Let's just say I stepped on someone's toes a few years ago and now that someone is out to kill. She won't get her way Todd. I'll deal with her before she lands another blow." Richard said. He walked towards a fallen log nearby.

"So, the blonde wants to kill us, because you offended her?" Todd asked. He followed his brother.

"Yes. You should know however, that her toes had to be stepped on. If anything, she stepped on her own toes." Richard smirked.

"Who is she? What did you do?"

"I'll answer your questions soon Todd. It's time you knew the truth. I can't take her on, alone. Can I trust you?" Richard placed his hands on his brother's shoulders. Todd nodded.

"I'll always have your back big bro. If I'm going to do this with you, I need to ask you just one question and you have to answer honestly. If I get an answer, I'll never ask you another question again. I'll let you tell me all you need to whenever you're ready to." Todd told his brother with a question, ready to reel off his tongue.

"That sounds like a good deal. Shoot."

"Does Mary have anything to do with the blonde woman?" Todd asked with wide eyes.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Richard asked. The smile on his face disappeared abruptly.

There was silence for a lengthy six seconds. The Beckham brothers did nothing but stare at each other. The wind howled loudly in their ears. A crow black as coal perched on a branch just above the odd ball once hidden in a brown sac.

"Why'd you act like you didn't know who Mary was? What will you do if she remembers you? Do we tell George about Mary's connection to this killer?" Todd squatted near the exposed odd ball and so did Richard, who took it up in his gloved hands.

"You said no more questions, and no, we do not tell that stupid kid. We have to hide all of this from him" Richard's eyebrows twitched.

"Hide it? He's your son. What if he gets too close to Mary, and something bad happens? Besides, three heads are better than two."

"You know more than anyone, how untrue that statement is. George isn't my kid or my responsibility. You know that. And stick to the original! Two heads are way better than one. Three's a fucking crowd. Go get the sac. I'm taking this home." Richard wiped the dust off the object in his hands.

"You're taking it home? How is that hiding..."

"I have to send off the dead, respectfully don't I? That bastard crow won't have breakfast out of this." Richard said. Sorrow engulfed his voice.

"But..."

"Just get the fucking sac, Todd Beckham!"

Todd rushed off to pick up the sac and ran back to his brother. He stared at the crow above them and his eyes lingered on the object in Richard's hands.

"Juglar vein, Omohyoid muscle, Hypoglosal nerve, Levator scapulae, Vagus nerve, all dissembled in a clean cut. She must've used a huge blade. That bitch." Richard muttered, with sadness in his eyes.

"Who was this?"

"Henry. His name was Henry Lee."

Richard held a human head.

Todd stared at the milky white of the dead man's eyes, left wide open. His skin was more grey than white. The hair on the head gave an illusion of stretched strands. His dark hair had picked up leaves, branches and dirt. The lips on the face lacked color and worms wriggled on a deep wound on the dead man's forehead. The detached neck did not bleed out. Thick coagulated purplish liquid encircled the ripped flesh below the mandible. Almost blue patches sat on one side of the dead man's face.

Only the dead man knew who killed him and perhaps Richard knew too.

Mary looked through the documents on the floor. She gave out a sigh so loud, it was a tune away from becoming a scream.

She thought upon the words she told George earlier. He had every right to get pissed, but so did she. George was much younger than her, and even without the existence of grey thin threads on her head, Mary thought herself a cougar when she tried to imagine a relationship with the teenager.

"I don't know why he'd get mad. I had to set things straight. I'm the older one, after all. It's fine if he doesn't help me anymore, but I should help him at least." Mary told none, while she piled up the documents neatly.

In an attempt to place the dossier back into Richard's grey tin box, Mary's fingers brushed against a metallic object buried deep in the corner of the box. Without looking inside, the box she traced the metal and her finger tips caressed the cold hint of a chain link, measured in a small Pitch.

Mary held unto the chain and pulled. A piece of jewelry escaped stacks of papers and key chains in the tin box.

The sun was brighter now, and its radiant rays kissed the metal. The gold ambiance of a beautiful oval-shaped Victorian locket sent yellow reflections across the wooden walls of the room. It looked like a man-made sunset.

"The caretakers at the orphanage he was adopted from were either stupid or just very kind. Any human in their right minds will sell this." Mary said, while she held the metal up. The jewelry dangled from its ball.

She gazed at the locket for a while and dropped it abruptly. She searched the dossier agitatedly.

A minute passed by and Mary held an old photograph in her right hand. Based on a solid hypothesis and the discovery of the photo in the dossier, Mary believed it was George's photograph as a child.

Mary stared at the beautiful baby in the photograph. He wore a white onesie with a huge white bow on the front. The baby smiled. Pure joy radiated from the sky blue of his big googly eyes.

The picture melted the heart, but Mary's eyes were focused on a piece of jewelry that curled around on the baby's tiny neck. Gold chain strolled down the baby's body and his chubby hands held unto the locket on the chain.

Mary glanced at the photo and with a turn of her neck, she stared at the locket.

"It's the same locket!" Mary said in awe.

She struggled to open the locket, but with caution. It seemed glued a bit, by age. After a click, the gold locket opened to reveal two oval-shaped sides held by a hinge.

On the right side of the locket was a photograph of two people. It was a layout of two people separated by a border, created by a thin piece of black masking tape.

The right side of the layout displayed a smaller size of the picture she held. It was a picture of Baby George. On the left side, the bust of a man in an unbuttoned red and black check flannel shirt, was revealed. He was a handsome man with dashing blue eyes. He had a smile that brought calm to the heart. His teeth were as white as the T-shirt, he wore within the flannel shirt. His brown hair was kept in a perfect haircut. Side bangs covered a portion of perfect thick eyebrows.

"George is the spitting image of this man." Mary said.

She gazed at the left side of the locket. A name and date were engraved on it, in italics.

Mary stared at the inscriptions which read;

'Baby, Levi Spencer McLane

Born on this day

22.10.2003'

Mary closed the locket and heard the clasp pin click. She gazed at a strange design on the front of the locket. By virtue of lucid lines, Mary made out the design. It was a deer skull, bearing majestic antlers. The design looked familiar.

In a glitch unexpected, Mary saw Michael. Her eyes zoomed in on his bare chest. The tattoo of a deer skull bearing one antler, stood out. The roman numeral 'II', was next to the huge deer skull. Michael smiled and the glitch disappeared after a blink.

Her eyes closed shut for a minute and she saw a hand stretched to her. The hand belonged to a man. Mary recognized that hand. She had that person before. Who was it?

A tattoo of a deer skull, with antlers drawn by the product of black ink and torn flesh, glowed on the hand. The roman numeral 'I', stood next to the deer skull.

Mary recognized that hand. She blinked again and saw a brief flashback of the day she used a skillet to beat Richard. Richard had the same tattoo as Michael, and a part of their tattoos was engraved on the locket that belonged to George.

"George...George...I have to find George!"

Mary's heart beat twice as fast and she was fazed.

With quivering hands, she stacked the documents and locket in Richard's tin box. She stacked Michael's tin box on Richard's and with the red-leather journal, she ran out of her room, in search of George Daniel Beckham.

Or rather Levi Spencer McLane.