"I-I need to go..." Scarlett said weakly, after staring at Levi for a long time. Carter thinks I killed Eric... Five little words that played in her mind over and over again, enclosing her heart in a vice grip, making it harder for her to breathe. How could he? I need to find him...

"Excuse me," she said, pushing the cold pasta dish away from her, standing up and promptly leaving the dining room without looking back.

As if being locked up in this hotel wasn't enough to ruin her trip and now she was the prime suspect in the murder of one of her closest friends? Great, just freaking great!

Levi's eyes followed Scarlett as she scurried out of the hall, not looking back even once. She hadn't even made eye contact as she excused herself. And that behavior was very odd to Levi.

What an interesting specimen...

But then again, all the friends had something about them. They were all a mystery on their own, waiting to be solved. Good thing for Levi because solving mysteries was like a drug, a fix he needed from time to time. He couldn't wait to solve it, layer by layer, until he reached the surface. After all, his deductions could only get him so far...

***

Scarlett's steps were frantic as she hurried towards the stairs that lead to her room. She needed to be alone. The past few hours had been a whirlwind of emotions and she felt her headache grew with each throb of her brain.

As soon as she reached the stairs, Scarlett's peripheral vision caught movement in the common room. Mouth open and eyes wide, she saw Emma adjusting her blankets as she sank into the sofa and covered her face, blocking out everything.

What is she doing resting in the common room? She thought incredulously, her feet moving to her direction automatically.

"Emma..." said Scarlett as she shook her gently, "Em, what are you doing here? Is there something wrong with your room?" She asked, genuinely worried.

Emma pulled the blanket away from her face and sat up, blinking. Her appearance prompted Scarlett to inhale sharply as she took in her tear-streaked face, messy hair and dark circles. How long had she been crying for? Scarlett's eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

"My room? Oh, it's fine, it's just... I don't want to go up there," Emma said as she made room for Scarlett to sit next to her. Scarlett took her up on the silent offer.

"They took the body away Ems," she whispered gently, engulfing Emma in a side hug.

"I know" Emma released a shuddered breath, "Still, I don't have the strength to go back up there. Just thinking about it..." she couldn't finish the sentence, her words left hanging the air.

Scarlett tightened her hug when she felt her best friend start to shiver slightly. "It's okay... everything is going to be okay. I'm here," she said soothingly.

Emma leaned into Scarlett and rubbed her temple, "Every time I close my eyes I see Eric sprawled on the corridor floor, " Scarlett felt Emma's cold and clammy hands clutch her own tightly.

"His eyes were open you know. They were so lifeless, so cold, so... so dead. They were staring right at me," Emma's voice broke as did Scarlett's heart, "I couldn't look away Scarlett, I couldn't look away," She had started sobbing now, her words barely audible through her thick, tearful voice.

"It's ok, it's ok," Scarlett whispered the same thing over and over again. She was at a loss for words. What more could she say? What more could she do other than to hold her tightly? And she doubted Emma listened to her anyway, she was busy spiraling down into depression.

Scarlett knew she had to change the topic, and fast.

"Carter thinks I'm responsible for Eric's death," she spoke slowly.

"What?" Emma was blinking rapidly now, not sure what she had just listened, "He thinks what?!" some life came back to her voice. Scarlett only nodded.

"I don't know what possessed him to think that, I really don't..." Scarlett shrugged weakly.

As soon as the words left Scarlett's mouth, Emma became silent. Too silent. She had stopped shivering and sobbing, her full lips pressed into a thin line as she went deeper into her thoughts.

"You know what the worst thing about this whole situation is?" Emma spoke after a long time.

"What?"

"Eric didn't die of natural causes, or in an accident... he was murdered," she looked straight into Scarlett's eyes, "Which means that one of us is the killer"

Which means that nobody can be trusted... Emma knew the exact moment Scarlett caught on to her hidden meaning and instantly regretted her words. Scarlett's frown dissolved into an expression of shock and betrayal.

"You think I did it too?" Scarlett physically withdrew from Emma, hurt evident on her delicate features. "What the hell is wrong with everybody?!"

"No, no, wait. I didn't say-"

"Forget it. I've been putting others before me, comforting them, worrying about them, and this what I get in return?" Scarlett's voice broke as she stood up. "I spent all of my savings on this trip just so I could get away from the shit happening at home, only to be thrown in this hell!" she laughed bitterly.

"Scar, stop! I'm not saying you did it, but somebody did, right?!" Emma wasn't sure if she should be even having this conversation with her, but she couldn't stop, "Maybe Carter accused you because... because maybe he did it," she said, however, the words didn't settle well with her.

"And if that's the case... then I hope somebody is there to stop me from ripping his heart out."

***

"I was hoping I could talk to each one of you, alone," Levi said, clearly annoyed that Mark and Ella had come together for the interrogations. He didn't like an audience.

"I don't know why we're here in the first place," Mark grunted. "We don't even know the boy."

"And yet, you more or less threatened him at the breakfast yesterday. Tell me I'm wrong," Levi snapped, his eyes challenging. He really didn't like talking to the man, something about him was just so... off-putting.

"He insulted me," Mark stated flatly.

Before Levi could say anything, Mark's wife, Ella hastily intervened, "Now dear, we talked about this," she turned towards Levi and continued, "He's sorry for his behavior," her voice was strained.

"No. He's not. However, I'd like to ask some questions and I don't have all day to listen to your bullshit," Levi addressed the last part to Mark.

"Careful there, detective," Mark's voice was snarky and dangerous.

"Actually you know what? Get out," Levi said calmly as he leaned back in his chair. "I don't like your face and I want to be able to ask your wife some questions without getting distracted by it."

"You'll regret saying that," Mark growled, still firmly seated on the chair.

"Do you want to go to jail?" Levi asked him, eyebrows cocked. "Yeah, I thought so. Come back in 10 minutes. Now, get out," he continued when Mark had sealed his mouth shut. He knew he was abusing his power, but he just couldn't help it. Once Mark was out of the room, Levi focused his attention on Ella.

"He wasn't always like this, my husband," Ella said sadly. "This behavior is recent. He's gotten so hostile..." she said shaking her head.

"How long have you guys been together?" Levi asked.

"35 years," she smiled, "This trip was actually planned for our anniversary."

Levi nodded, not really interested, and trying his best to not come off as rude to the graceful lady sitting in front of him. The glow emanating from the chandelier gave Ella a soft, delicate look. Her grey hair gracefully pinned in a bun, making her look like the sophisticated woman that she was.

"Don't mind me, but I was kind of eavesdropping on your conversation with Emma yesterday morning," he paused and then continued as she waved him off, "You said weren't from America, but you certainly look like it."

Levi was looking forward to asking this question ever since she had told Emma that she wasn't American. Impossible, Levi had scoffed, his deductions were never wrong. Still, he was itching to ask her this so he could forget about this useless thing and move on with his life. It was annoying just how much him being wrong had eaten away at his brain. Even if it was just a trivial thing.

"Oh, I was born in America, even went to school there for a couple of years. But then my parents had shifted to France and I've been living there ever since. Mark is French, so I never really got a chance to live in the US," Ella said, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater. "I did get to live in New York for one year though! But it was very long ago."

I knew it! Levi resisted the urge to smirk, but for some reason, he felt improper doing that in front of her. He cleared his throat to mask his contentful smirk.

"Can you tell me about your last night's whereabouts, please?"

"We all were sitting in the common room by the fireplace, don't you remember?" Ella asked warily.

"I do, I do-"

"What lovely piano that girl played, what's her name... Ah! Yes, Scarlett! I must go talk to her. Tell her how wonderful it was," Ella cut Levi off.

"Yes truly, but can we focus on the matter at hand?"

"Oh, sorry," Ella had the courtesy to look sheepish.

Fake. The word jumped into Levi's mind out of nowhere as he studied Ella's features carefully. But why? He searched for the answer in her expression but came up blank.

"After the piano, you went straight to your room?"

"Yes, and then I slept. Mark and I both take sleeping pills to help us sleep, that's why we didn't hear the commotion outside," she said, fidgeting with her sweater's sleeve again.

"Right. You said Mark had become hostile? Please elaborate," Levi was interested in the answer. Maybe he'll know why Mark was giving off bad vibes to him.

"He hasn't been physical... with me," Ella added the last part quickly, "By hostile, I meant that he has developed anger management issues. He gets angry so easily. The worst part is, he acts on it."

"What triggered it?"

"I-I'd rather not talk about it," she said firmly, leaving no room for any more questions.

But little did she know who she was talking to. How inconvenient, Levi thought. He knew he would find out one way or the other, but the short cut was much more preferred. He sighed.

Racking his brain for a few moments, he couldn't come up with anything else to ask her, so he finally relented. "Send in your husband, please."

A few moments later, a very angry Mark made his way in the dining hall and took the seat his wife had vacated a couple of minutes ago.

"I would appreciate it," Mark began with clenched teeth, "if you could treat me with more respect now. You don't know who I am," he finished with a silent threat.

"And you clearly don't know who I am," Levi rolled his eyes, in the process of which he noticed something.

"Tell me about that," he said, jerking his head in his direction, eyes trained on the small tattoo on Mark's inner wrist.

Mark looked down and instantly, Levi saw him break a little on the inside. He saw it in the way his eyes squeezed shut for a split second. Saw it in the way pain flashed across his face, lasting only for a fleeting moment.

Suddenly, Mark didn't look so intimidating anymore. In fact, he looked vulnerable more than anything. His dark eyes filled to the brim with hatred were now hidden depths of sadness. Levi noticed the laugh lines on the old man's face, telling him that he was once a happy man. His stiff posture was now slumped, almost in a defeated manner as he continued to stare at the tattoo on his wrist.

"It's a date," Mark said slowly, not wanting to share such a personal detail with a prick, no less.

"Of?" Levi was losing his patience quickly.

"Of my child's birthday," Mark brought his eyes up to Levi's.

"Must be a special kid," Levi felt his annoyance simmer down just a little.

"Very," came a soft reply.

"Where is he or she now?"

"Dead."

Oh.