STEWART

Stewart could feel it coming. Something was going to happen, something big.

We the Joker's still loose, and Sornione is coming.

He had to do something to stop it.

Stewart had begun to piece things together long ago, when he had seen the picture of the real J. Q. King. To back up his hunches, he had spent hours scouring the internet for more clues and possible theories.

And now he knew the letter had been forged, and now he saw people's appearances changing around him, he knew who the imposter was.

I had my suspicions all along.

Stewart left the library, where all the students were discussing new things that had happened, like how Julia, Heather, and Nathan had just returned with a few extra inches, black hair, and the news that J. Q. King was missing and Sornione was probably at their doorstep. Stewart couldn't do anything with hysterical students yelling around him.

So he walked the halls alone, his hands in his pockets and a frown on his face. It was a hard thing to know who the traitor was.

"Stewart!" someone called behind him. It was Kathryn. She hurried toward him. "What are you doing out here alone? You do know that the imposter is still loose, and Sornione's coming, don't you?"

Stewart nodded. I know.

"Then come back to the library," Kathryn urged. "It's not safe out here. And I know that you can't talk, but you can still help us figure this out."

I can help, but not back there.

Kathryn noticed the pensive look on his face. "What's wrong?" she asked.

I can't tell you. Obviously.

Kathryn thought for a moment, then blinked a few times. "You looked really concentrated earlier, when we were gathering the letters. What were you thinking about?"

Can't say.

"Do you...." Kathryn paused. "Do you know who the murderer is?"

Good guess. Stewart nodded.

Kathryn gasped. "You're not serious."

"Of course I am," Stewart said.

Kathryn's face paled.

It took a moment for Stewart to realize what had just happened. When he did, he was stunned with amazement, leaving Kathryn to voice his thoughts for him.

"Did you...just...talk?" Kathryn stammered.

Did I really? he thought. Or was it just my imagination?

Stewart had no idea how it could happen. For his entire life, or at least all he could remember, he had been mute. It had been a permanent part of him. But now he had spoken. How?

Kathryn kept staring at him. "Say something," she prompted after a while.

Can I really? "I don't know what to say." He had done it again. He raised a hand to his throat, trembling.

"You can talk," Kathryn said as weakly.

Stewart was just as surprised, but not for long. The changes, he told himself, feeling silly for not realizing it. Of course they were happening to him too. "I guess I can," he said, his voice sounding strange to him.

It took a while for Kathryn to get used to it, but she had to. After some more muttering and staring, she was back to normal. "So," she whispered. "You said you know who the murderer is. Who is it?"

Stewart swallowed. Everything he had worked for depended on this moment. His voice was low and serious as he said, "The murderer is Julia."

Kathryn almost cried out in shock. "Julia?" she asked. "Are you sure?"

Stewart nodded. "I'm sure."

"How...?"

"I don't really know how to explain it, but ever since I came to Murray Mansion, these...memories...have been coming back into my head—people and places I thought I'd never seen."

"Really?" Kathryn breathed.

"Yes," Stewart said. "And when J. Q. King was murdered, I did background checks on all of the people here. I looked up all I could about J. Q. King and the mansion. I've been piecing it together ever since. My evidence led me to conclude that only three people could have been the murderer: me, you, or Julia. I knew it wasn't me."

"How did you know it wasn't me?" Kathryn asked.

"That's where the memories came in. Every time I was around Julia, they flooded back more and more. I knew I'd met her before, and something bad happened with her."

"So you're basing this off of flimsy memories?" Kathryn said.

"They're not flimsy. They're real. I know it. And I...ugh...." Stewart grunted and clutched his head.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"It's...another...memory," Stewart gasped between labored breaths. "I...." He looked at Kathryn. "You."

"What about me?" Kathryn asked.

Stewart took a step back, his eyes wide. "I was wrong about Julia. It was you!"

"What?" she exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"I remember...everything," Stewart said, anger burning in his eyes. "I remember what you and your father did to me, and to J. Q. King, and all the other students."

"What? My father?"

"Stop pretending you don't know!" Stewart demanded, shaking an accusing finger at her. "You aren't Kathryn Jones. Your real name is Scarlet Sornione. You are Volpe's daughter, and you killed J. Q. King's decoy and friend, David Carpenter. You are the Joker!"

At the last few words, Kathryn's wide eyes narrowed, and she smirked. "You really do know your stuff, don't you?" she said, her accent now suddenly tinged with Italian.

"You're a monster," Stewart said, clenching his fists.

Kathryn--or Scarlet--let out a short laugh. "And you, Stewart," she said triumphantly, taking a step toward him, "are just the person I've been looking for."

Before Stewart had any time to react, Scarlet wrenched a candlestick from the wall and swung it, smashing into the side of his head.

Stewart fell to the floor, large splashes of color filling his vision. A moment later, he could feel the grip of the girl's hands under his arms, dragging him across the floor. His eyelids trembled shut and everything went black, but not before he thought one last thing.

It worked.