T. Foley sighed, wondering how he gets into situations like this. Carrying an unconscious or even dead, unknown boy. How was he going to explain this to the authorities or worse, his parents.

           "Miss. Manson, I do not think you described to me where you plan on bringing this boy." 

           "Tucker, I'm taking him back to my house. What is wrong? You get all proper on me when you are mad." Samantha asked worriedly. 

           "What is wrong?! You are bringing an unknown boy into your house! I am helping you to do so! What if authorities see me?" T. Foley whispered angrily.

            "Tuck. You know I'll take all the blame." Samantha soothed him.

"No, you will not. No one would ever a blame a lady for doing anything like this. The police will blame the closest gentleman to scene and that will be me."

Samantha was completely speechless. She just continued carrying the boy without a word.

"How do you know that he wasn't the one that blew up the factory?" Questioned T. Foley.

"I do not know." Samantha respond unsure.

"Do you..?" T. Foley started, but Samantha cut him off.

"I don't know anything! Alright?" Samantha almost screamed.

               T. Foley had no clue how to respond. Almost nothing could calm Samantha when she gets like this.

               "I am sorry, I did not mean to get you all worked up." T. Foley whispered. "Let's get him back to your house. Also, do you think he always had white hair?"

Samantha laughed and did an overdramatic sigh. "I do not know, but it's kinda mysterious. Is it not?"

T.Foley rolled his eyes. "If you mean creepy instead of 'mysterious' "

They walked in a comfortable silence for the rest of the way. The first thing you notice about the Manson residence is how big it is. It was bigger than most homes on the block and this was one of most wealthiest blocks in Amity Park. It was at least four or five stories tall. Then you notice how it screams wealth. The perfect flowers, the perfectly painted doors and windows. If you look closely, you can almost see a chandelier sparking in the main hallway.

"Let's take the back entrance." Samantha told him. T. Foley nodded. He knew that the 'back entrance' was also the servants' entrance. Both of them knew that neither one of Samantha's parents would go even close to that entrance. 

            They walked into a dimly lit kitchen. All of the appliances were brand new and without a speck of dirt on them.

T. Foley followed Samantha upstairs. "What room do you plan on putting him in again?"

Samantha stopped a minute to think. "A guest bedroom on the third floor. My parents never go on that floor because my grandmother claimed that floor to herself. I am pretty sure that she will not mind some company. "

"Claimed?" T. Foley questioned.

"Long story. "

          The two carried the unconscious boy up to the third floor. An little old lady in a wheelchair, came into the hallway.

         "Brought a friend into my prison?" Grandmother Manson asked sadly.

          "It is not a prison, Grandmother." Samantha replied in the same tone of voice.

           "It is one, if you cannot get out."

           "Excuse me ma'am, but I think I can help." T. Foley intervened. "I invented a machine that can get you safely down the staircase without walking. I am sad to admit that I have not tested it yet, so I do not know if it will work properly. "

              "Thank you very much young man. I will ask Sammy here to get the machine once it is ready." Grandmother Manson acknowledged. "This may seem random, but why is there an unconscious boy in your arms?" 

           Samantha sighed. She obviously did not want to lie to her grandmother. "The ectoplasm factory exploded and we found him inside after the explosion. I decided to bring him to the house. I do not want the police to get him because..... I do not know. I just know that it would of been very bad of the authorities did get him." Samantha explained.

Grandmother Manson was quite for a moment. Then said, " Do what you think is best. For you and for him." Grandmother Manson looked at the boy for a minute then scooted her wheelchair away.

           Samantha pointed to a door two rooms away from them. "Let's put him in here."

They put him down on a blue bed. Him laying there was unrealistic. His white hair was something out of a fairytale.... Or a mystery book.

"When do you think he is going to wake up?" Asked T. Foley.

"Hopefully before my parents come home. I cannot keep my parents away from this bedroom forever. Also, I do not know he is going to get nutrition in this state. He is already too skinny." Samantha confessed.

"It's getting late. I am going home. Tell me if... Sorry, when he awakes.

Samantha nodded. That was the only thing she could do at the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jasmine paced back and forth in front of her house. Danny should have been home already. No one had told her the news about the explosion. Her parents were not home yet, so she could not tell them her worries.

She saw an African American teenager jog past her. She instantly recognized him as Mister Foley. Danny and him were friends in school, but when Danny started working in the factory.... Their friendship just broke off.

"Wait! Mister Foley!" She called out.

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around as he said, "Whatever money I owe you, it was my evil twin."

             "Wait, what? No. I am Jasmine Fenton. Danny's big sister? You were friends with him in school?" Jasmine explained.

               "Yes."

                Jasmine let out a sigh of relief. "Do you know what's going on at the factory? Danny isn't home yet."

                 "There was this big explosion. Ectoplasm went everywhere. No one was injured. I am pretty sure that all workers went home, but I could be wrong. Do not worry, Danny is probably helping clean up." T. Foley told her.

"Thank you." Jasmine whispered.

T. Foley was breathless for a moment. "Your welcome." His eyes shone with worry and pity.

He began to continue to walk home. Thoughts of the unknown boy raced across his mind. Could he really be his childhood friend? No, he could not be. Danny clearly had black hair. This boy had pure white hair. This boy was an alien, while Danny was a normal kid.

T. Foley turned on the Walkie-talkie. "Roger. Samantha are you there?"

             "Yes." A worried reply came.

             "Roger. I think I have a theory who's the mystery boy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Sorry the chapter is bit slow. What do you think? Any ideas? Please comment.
  
        I don't know when my next update will be, but hopefully it'll be soon.