"All or nothing?" I repeated, "What did she mean?" Dale shook his head, "I'm not quite sure myself. But when Dixie says something, you better agree with her."

***

Somewhere in California, Anderson dropped his handkerchief out of his mansion and let it fly, it flew onto the beach where a seagull picked it up, thinking it would be a good addition to his nest. The bird flew to where it's nest was supposed to be, but instead it witnessed how a couple of men were chopping down its tree. Devastated, the bird dropped the handkerchief that fell on one of the men, "What a lovely handkerchief, my wife would love this." he thought and carried it home that day. His wife indeed did like the gift, and decided to take it with her on her trip to Utah. In Utah she used it to wipe the corners of her mouth in a restaurant and forgot to take it with her. A waiter picked it up, and kept it for himself. That evening he got a job offer in Nebraska, so he packed his bags, put the handkerchief in his pocket, and left. Once he had gotten to Nebraska, he decided to celebrate his new job by going to a local bar. Being slightly tipsy, he placed his drink on the handkerchief, which was accidentally picked up by a bartender. When she realized it didn't belong to her, she hung it next to the front door of the bar in case anyone recognized it. Nobody did. The wind that burst through the door blew the handkerchief out onto the street where it lay till next morning when a bird picked it up and tried to carry it back to its nest but dropped it on a flower that grew close to a cafe. Because of the impact, the flower lost one of its red petals that drifted onto one of the tables in the cafe.

Dixie picked up the red petal and twirled it with her fingers. Something inside of her sparked, and she suddenly looked up at Dale, "I want to come with you, I need to come with you to your next meeting."

Dale looked at her, surprised. He shook his head, "No. Especially not at a time like this." she glared at him, her eyes shining with abrupt anger. "I'm not a little girl Dale, I can take care of myself. Besides, what's the worst that can happen? I'll stay in the plane the whole time," she voice softened, "Please Dale, I really want to go."

He sighed. The first rule of Dixie was that just like him, she was incredibly stubborn, and forcing her to do something was impossible.

"Fine, but you stay in the plane this whole time." he reluctantly agreed. A warm smile spread on Dixie's face, "Aww thank you Dale! You're the best." Dale didn't reply, he looked down at the red petal that Dixie was playing with, and something about it rubbed him the wrong way.

*

They board the plane two days later. Dixie was dressed in a short yellow skater skirt and a pretty white blouse. Her hair was made into tight curls - it reminded Dale of when they first met- If only she had that pink suitcase, he thought. Dixie sat next to him, beaming with excitement. Dale saw Kasey (who was now working Ian's job of controlling the planes) wave to him from outside. "Hold on just a minute darling," Dale said, "I'll be right back. Kasey needs something." Without looking at Dixie he stood up and left the plane, he could hear a sigh of impatience.

"What's up? We're on a schedule here Kase." Dale said as he approached Kasey, slightly anxious about making it on time.

"It's not my place to step in Pilot, but you're taking Dixie with you? If Julian finds out about this you're dead." he replied. Dale could hear the confusion in his voice.

"You're right. It's not your place to step in." Dale retorted cooly and without waiting for his response, headed back on the plane.

*

Unlike the other time he flew with Dixie, Dale felt uncomfortable. He had begun regretting that he ever even took her. The whole two hours Dixie couldn't stop talking, and for the first time in his life Dale found it extremely agitating. "Loosen up Dale." she said, as though it wasn't that big of a deal. "This was a bad idea." he shot back, and they went silent.

They landed at 1:57 pm, three minutes early. Dale could feel that sickening feeling building up in his stomach, but this time it was stronger than ever before. "Stay here." Dale told her and she nodded. She was upset, he could tell. When Dixie didn't talk something was wrong. He was starting to feel a bit guilty for the way he talked to her in the plane, so he kissed the top of her head before opening the door and stepping onto the hot, Californian sand.

He saw the red Ferrari pull up, stopping with the same dramatic puff of sand. Anderson and the two remaining blue-blazers stepped out.

"Good to see you again Pilot," Anderson smirked and looked at his men, "Help him load the plane." his men obliged and began carrying the boxes of cocaine-bricks to the back of his plane. Dale counted... there was more than expected. He opened his mouth to speak but Anderson interrupted him, "We're back to normal now. I hope you brought the money."

"Oh - uh - yes," Dale stammered and pointed to the plane, "Your men are probably getting it right now." A grin rose on Anderson's face, "Good. I knew I could count on you."

Dale felt a sense of relief crash over him. The whole money fiasco was over, Julian would be so happy. He looked up at Anderson again, about to thank him when he noticed how intensely he was staring at the cockpit, frowning. "Who is she?" he asked, suddenly Dale realized he was talking about Dixie. Damn it.

"Just a new recruit. She's learning how to fly a plane." he lied quickly and with confidence. Anderson slowly nodded, "I see," he said, "Well, best of luck to her." an unsettling smile was plastered on his face that made Dale's insides twirl the same way Dixie twirled that petal.

*

After Anderson and his men were done, they sat back in the Ferrari and drove away. Dale returned back onto the plane and was immediately greeted by a page-white Dixie. "Is... everything okay?" he asked. She looked at him with big, frightened eyes, "Oh Dale you were right, I shouldn't have come..." she sobbed and tears began rolling down her rosy cheeks. Dale hugged her, "Don't cry darling, I know he's intimidating but it's all over now. Julian will be fine. The business will be fine -"

"NO! NO! We must leave right NOW! Take-off and just fly away. Dale I love you and I'm telling you-" Dixie was hysterical. She was crying and weeping and Dale couldn't make out half of the things she was saying.

"Dixie, darling -" he began but then he was once again interrupted by Dixie, "No. You don't understand. I know that man. His name is Wayne Anderson, isn't it?"

Dale was taken aback, "Yes. It is. How do you know him?"

She wiped the tears from her eyes and let out an unsteady breath, "I was his lover when I was a model in Paris. Part of the reason why I left was to get away from him. And the way he looked at me today... " she burst into tears again.

*

When he arrived home at 5 pm, they entered their condo in silence. Dixie's eyes were still wet with tears and her bouncy curls had turned into long beach waves. "Dale I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before..." she said softly. Dale walked to the wide living room window that looked out onto the city. He couldn't blame her, she didn't know that he was dealing with Anderson. It was his fault, wasn't it? For not holding her back?

"There's something else," Dixie broke his train of thought, "That revolver that I gave you, it belonged to Anderson. I stole it from him - please forgive me." her voice was shaky. He felt as though he was supposed to feel mad, but he didn't. He didn't blame her for everything that happened. In fact, above all else he wanted to protect her.

"Of course I forgive you," he turned to her, "I love you Dixie, and I won't let him hurt you."

He wrapped his arms around her and she sobbed into his shirt. Something about Dixie made him feel uneasy, something felt incredibly wrong.

***

"No, really? You felt uneasy?" I said sarcastically leaning back on the sofa. Dale looked at me. He was completely serious, "I know how it sounds. But I can't describe the feeling, Gus. It was as though something bad was going to happen very, very soon, and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

I frowned, "Well, were you right?"

***

Dale woke up with a terrible headache the next morning. It didn't take him long to notice that Dixie wasn't in bed with him. At first he tried to convince himself that maybe it's because he was the one who slept in late today and she was in the kitchen making breakfast - "Oh Dale, who's the sleepyhead now?" but when Dale glanced at the clock it read 8:03 am. Dixie never woke up this early without a reason.

He jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants and the first shirt he saw in his closet. If she was taken by force I would've woken up, right? Or at least there should be a sign of forced entry. He rushed out of the bedroom and scanned the condo for any sign that Dixie might've not left by her own will. But there was nothing. The front door was locked and everything was in place. He even woke up a very unhappy Halsey and asked if she heard anything during the night - she said no and asked him what was going on but he didn't respond.

In Dale's mind, the only possible location where Dixie could be was at Cafe Gardien, the same cafe where she picked up that petal. The place where Dale made one of the worst mistakes in his life. It wasn't far away from where he lived, a walkable distance, it was one of the reasons they enjoyed having brunch. This time however, Dale wasn't walking. He was running. He figured that driving there would only waste more time since the streets were packed with people and he might accidentally run someone over in his state of mind.

In less than 15 minutes he burst through the doors of the cafe. He was such a mess that a waitress approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright, sir?" she asked. Dale jerked back, "I'm fine. Have you seen-" he cut himself off when he saw Dixie sitting in their usual spot by the open window... the worrisome part was that she wasn't alone - across from her sat Wayne Anderson with his godforsaken handkerchief. She looked calm, dressed in her light blue polka-dot dress and her hair tied with a white ribbon. She smiled, as though to thank him, picked up her matching blue purse, and headed towards the exit.

"Dixie!" Dale heaved a sigh of relief, "Oh my god Dixie, what on earth are you doing talking here with him?" she smiled at him, almost amused by his reaction.

"We just had a little chat. That's all. Everything's alright now, we sorted it out." she brushed her fingers through his hair soothingly, "He has no hard feelings, he even said I could come to his party tonight." Dale looked at Anderson who was still at the opposite end of the restaurant, he was staring out the open window and fidgeting with his handkerchief. Dale felt that same sickening and strangely uneasy feeling as though something was horribly, terribly wrong.

"Darling you look like a mess," Dixie said, "Let's go home and I'll tell you everything." She took his hand and together they walked out of the cafe. The sweet smell of upcoming summer filled their lungs and Dixie smiled, "I love summe-" she didn't have time to finish her sentence when a red car, seemingly out of nowhere suddenly swerved to the right and hit her, (missing Dale by barely an inch) before crashing into the left side of Cafe Gardien. Dale stood in shock as people around him began to scream from the sight of the horrific scene. He looked down at his shirt and hands that were now drenched in his fiance's blood. His mind went blank with terror - this is what that feeling had meant. He watched as the red car went up in flames and a dreadful feeling of comprehension filled him - Wayne Anderson killed the love of my life.

***

Minutes before Dixie Lowe's death, when Wayne Anderson was still sitting in the cafe, he already knew her fate. He had planned it before they even started talking. It all started when he shooed away the bird from the open window with his handkerchief, it squeaked out a disgraceful noise and instead of trying to find something to eat there, it flew to the ice cream shop across the street. It waddled by the front door, waiting for someone to open it so it could fly in. Benny Lin, the little boy inside the shop had noticed the bird waiting outside. He felt sympathy for the bird and decided to share his ice cream with it, but to his dismay when he opened the door and called "Here birdie!" it got scared and began to fly across the road. Benny ran after it and didn't think about making sure there were no cars on the road. He managed to not get in the way of most of them... except for one red car that didn't expect a young boy to be running in the car lane and without thinking, swerved to the right, and hit a young woman - Dixie soon-to-be Fletcher. By then, Wayne Anderson had already left the cafe and was on his way back to California.

***

Dale had asked - ordered, Kasey to meet him at the field where they'd take-off. He didn't tell him why, he just called him 10 minutes after the death of Dixie Lowe and said "We're flying to a party in California tonight." Kasey didn't dare oblige Julian's right-hand man.

Inside his condo, Dale was going mad. When he first stormed in Halsey ran up to him and asked what had happened - "You're covered in blood Dale! What did you do?", Dale didn't answer her question. He simply grabbed her arm and said, "Take everything - the house, the money, the kids. I'm not coming home tonight." his voice was gravelly and he didn't sound like himself. Dale knew he was never going to see his sister again, and maybe he should've hugged her or told her goodbye. But at that moment, Dale thought it was better to leave things as they were.

He ignored her questions - "What do you mean Dale? Calm down, let's talk about this..." and raced to his room. Frantically, he opened the closet and pushed aside some boxes to reveal the cherry-tree case that contained what he needed. He carefully picked it up, his hands shaking. His heart swelled with pain when he opened the box and rubbed his fingers on the barrel - Pour l'amour inconditionnel de ma vie, Dale Fletcher. This belonged to Wayne Anderson... he thought, 'The Master of the Butterfly Effect'... I hope you burn in hell.

***

I sat, wide-eyed, and absolutely appalled, "How were you planning on killing him?"

"In plain sight. I'd match with the other guests at his party and, well... walk in. If nobody expects it, nobody suspects it." Dale responded.

"And with his own gun? Why?" I asked, my voice filled with eagerness.

"I believe that it possesses the same mystical powers as its master. I only began to feel the anticipation, that sickening feeling, that the butterfly effect was about to happen when Dixie gave it to me. Perhaps it was the only thing that Wayne Anderson couldn't control."

***

Kasey did as he promised. He waited next to the plane for 20 minutes before Dale arrived, and when he did, Kasey knew that tonight wasn't going to end well.

"What are you waiting for? Get in." Dale snapped and climbed the steps. Kasey followed him in silence.

Once they were flying, Kasey found the courage to ask Dale what was going on, "Pilot... what exactly do you need me for?" for a moment Kasey thought Dale might throw him out of the plane, but instead he heaved a shaky breath and said, "I'll need you to meet me at Cruger's Bar, alright? Have a car parked outside. Be ready to go."

Kasey nodded, "Yes sir."

They arrived in California in record time, 1 hour and 30 minutes. It wasn't difficult to find out where the biggest party in town was going to be, so with their destination set, Dale left a very-nervous Kasey at Cruger's Bar. Feeling the revolver pressed onto his skin through the blazer, he headed to the mansion where he'd commit the most unforgivable crime on the most unforgivable person.

An over-priced limo dropped Dale off at possibly the most impressive gateway entrance he had ever seen. The Lowe's house was nothing compared to the mansion standing in front of him - it was no less than 15,000 square feet with large glass windows that covered almost every wall. The light beaming from inside shone onto the styled bushes that surrounded the house, giving them an almost magical appeal. He saw other guests pull up, mostly being driven there by limos and their personal drivers. It seemed the only thing required to enter was a fancy car and a pricey outfit.

*

The inside of the house didn't fail to impress. From the moment Dale stepped inside and was offered a glass of $10,000 champagne, he could see just how stinking rich Wayne Anderson was; Two large marble spiral staircases with golden railing were fixed to two opposite facing walls. A gigantic and mesmerizing glass chandelier hung from the ceiling and lightened the entire house. Dale remembered his eighteenth, that seemed so long ago, and how dazed he was by Julian's chandelier - "You done blinding yourself?" Ian had said.

For the next 20 minutes Dale found himself wandering around the mansion, occasionally bumping into a few people who wanted to chat. He didn't indulge in any long conversation, and would quickly find a reason to leave - "Excuse me for a minute," he'd say, and never get back to them.

Each minute that passed brought over a wave of nausea over Dale. He was coming to his senses, the reality of the situation slowly started to kick in. His head was spinning, and he felt light-headed. He leaned on the rail of one of the staircases for support. Just at this time he heard the ear-piercing sound of someone ringing their glass. He looked up and at the top of the staircase, standing on the little balcony was Wayne Anderson. The sight of him dressed in his stupid blood-colored blazer and his aggravating grin made Dale burn inside. How dare he be happy? He murdered one of his own men, it doesn't take a detective to figure out he's responsible for Ian's death and... Just the thought of her name made him bawl inside. Made him remember how happy she was in her polka-dot dress and her blonde curls and how just moments later he stood covered in her blood. How was that even real? It all just felt like a delusion. Maybe it is, he thought, Maybe this is all just a horrible dream and I'll wake up when I pull the trigger. I'll wake up and I'll stroke her hair and nudge her to wake up and...

"Welcome everyone," Wayne Anderson began, "I'm glad that so many of you have decided to join me here. I have dedicated tonight to announce -"

The hatred burning inside of Dale like a flame made him only half-aware of what he did next. In front of everyone's eyes he pulled out the 1873 French revolver Chamelot Delvigne and without hesitation shot Wayne Anderson dead in the heart. With that same revolting grin his lifeless body crashed onto the floor and people began to scream. In the spur of the moment Dale pointed the gun to the chandelier and pulled the trigger again, making it let go of the ceiling and breaking into a million pieces when it hit the ground. One of the glass shards hit Dale just below the eye. Blood rolled down his cheek and slowly crept into the corners of his mouth. Dazed, he touched his bleeding wound. It felt completely numb. This was a small price to pay for not getting caught. People began pushing through the doors, screaming and crying - "Call the police! MOVE IT!". Dale shot one of the windows and it shattered, leaving a frame that he easily climbed through. He'd later come to the conclusion that large windows were extremely convenient and probably saved him from getting arrested.

Once outside, Dale ran. The adrenaline in his blood gave him the superhuman ability to climb over the 7-foot tall fence and gave him the speed he needed to reach Kasey's car which was parked just outside Cruger's Bar, as he promised. In that moment Dale had never felt more grateful for having him. Kasey didn't need any explanations, when a blood-splattered Dale slipped into the passenger's seat, he immediately pressed on the gas pedal and drove away.