(Four hours ago.)

A well-chosen bait on a hook. That's what his sister was for the people of Tarika. He wouldn't deny that some of them had seen his sister's indifference towards them all. A person like Alyssa was foreign to them. Someone like her was never meant to be caged inside a box filled with mindless birds who'd peck each other's eyes out because they were too afraid to open their cages; a cage that was locked from the inside in which the key was clutched by their own hands. They were too used to living in the same way as they had done before. They viewed change as revelation, the end, the anti Christ.

But even with that reasoning, he couldn't find it in his heart not to question their motive. It was clear that his sister hadn't committed the crime. She couldn't have. Perhaps they were jealous that Alyssa was a dreamer. A larger existence even with all of them combined. Was that why they wanted her out? If so, why have they subjugated her horrendously? They could have just chased her away. If he had the means, he would have taken his sister out of the town a long time ago, but as it was, he could barely support his studies.

If only Alyssa was born from a different family, one that was capable of feeding her voracious need for knowledge and challenge, she wouldn't have found herself in such a predicament.

Smart, smooth, charismatic, and deceptively enticing, that's what his sister is. He supposed those traits of Alyssa worked readily for others in this matter, a great background, enough to convince people from within and outside their town that she was well capable of committing such an atrocious crime at a very young age.

What a pitiful existence. Alyssa was right all along. Their town was made up of mindless creatures that followed a certain path, a well-laid-out pattern that if subjected to even the slightest of disarray; its inhabitants would crumble, endlessly seeking a way to return things to how they used to be.

But why was their sacrifice had to be his sister? Why did they have to use Alyssa's life and future as a thread to weave and merge the tear in their hearts left by the incident four years ago? Because she was the last to see those kids alive? They were reaching, but something in John told him that Alyssa wouldn't be idle for long. He knew his sister too well. He could only hope the town's people knew what they were doing because they hadn't the mental and emotional strength to face the wrath of his sister.

As his train of thoughts continued to stop from one station to another, picking up passenger introspections and sentiments along the way, his hands reached out for the knob of her sister's door. As he turned the cold metal sphere, he heard the voice of his sister and someone else's, one that instantly sent his blood boiling.

"Detective Howe," he murmured. He was told that the man was there and was briefed that it was Alyssa who requested his presence. He couldn't figure out why his sister had done such a thing. The detective almost killed her four years ago. But then again, he may have known some things about his sister, but he couldn't deny, that there were other things that he would never understand-like why she asked for detective Howe.

When John opened the door to Alyssa's room, what greeted him was the detective with his hand on his sister's cheek. It was Alyssa who first noticed his presence, and with the way her eyes teared up with flushed cheeks, he understood that she wanted him to intervene. She didn't have to ask though. There was no excuse for Howe to hit his sister. No matter what she may have said or done to him, there was no acceptable excuse for it.

"What the hell are you doing?" John let out those words in the coldest tone he could muster. And after. seeing the man in front of his sister shiver, he confirmed, that his statement was delivered how it should be.

"John, it's okay," he heard his sister murmur. But no matter how calmly she said those words, he knew she was in pain. So being who he was, he sauntered toward detective Howe and grabbed the man by his collar. Immediately, the detective wriggled free from his grasp. It took a while, but he eventually overpowered John.

John had no bad sentiments about that, it wasn't a testament that he was weak. The detective was once a soldier and was perhaps a patron of body-building gyms while he on the other hand was a bookworm whose only exercise was the constant movement of his wrist from turning book pages.

"What the hell is wrong with you, detective? Hitting a helpless teen seems too much, don't you think so?"

"I never meant to hit her," the detective answered. His eyes were on the floor and John couldn't help but frown. When he first met detective Howe years ago, he had an inkling that the man was not right in the head. But he gave him the benefit of the doubt since he is a detective, right? Why would the government even allow him to work for them if he hadn't the right makings of a detective? John was also aware that people like Howe would have undergone psychological evaluation before being allowed to join, so he pushed aside his worries. But now that the man still possesses that weird and disturbing aura around him, he couldn't allow him to stay near his sister longer than necessary.

"You're not allowed to speak to my sister without supervision again, detective. I hope we're clear on that."

The man bobbed his head and despite the need, he felt to punch him in the face, John made a civil gesture of guiding him out of his sister's room.

When they were both out of Alyssa's room, John gave the two cops standing beside her door a nod and walked behind detective Howe. As they trudged the steep steps of the hospital staircase-a laborious task because the hospital was too outdated it didn't even have an elevator-he couldn't help but think about his sister again. When they were young, whenever Alyssa got sick or she had a predicament she couldn't handle, she would always turn to John for help. And he, he would always give his all to heal whatever she was suffering from or clarify whatever bothered her. But now, he felt inadequate. There was nothing he could truly do for her, other than stand beside her and give reassuring words, fight for her name, and perhaps, be a wall to block people like defective Howe from hurting her further. A chuckle escaped his mouth when he thought, I'd probably act like a mother hen from now on and will be adamant about ensuring I do everything I can to make Alyssa feel better.

"Your sister should start talking."

Those words cut him off from his musings. He stopped, just as he and detective Howe reached the bottom flight of the stairs.

"Better do your job and figure out the truth," John replied.

"You do realize that your sister is in deep shit, right? Someone is preying on her on purpose," detective Howe answered as he turned to look at John.

John narrowed his eyes, "What hell is that supposed to mean?"

A chuckle from the detective got his blood boiling. The man leisurely made his way towards the hospital entrance, turns to look at him, and said, "Follow me outside. I have a few points about the case I want to discuss with you. If your sister refuses to speak to me about what happened, maybe you can get through to her."

John was skeptical. It's not that he doubted what the detective said. He knew something and someone was pinning the murder on Alyssa, but he had no idea how to go about proving it. Having detective Howe may not be worthless and stupid after all, he thought to himself as he hurriedly took wide steps, following Howe out of the hospital.

The roar of the furious voices before the building was what greeted the duo when they found themselves standing in front of an angry crowd.

"Motherfucker, get your sister out of that hospital! She doesn't deserve to be treated with kindness!"

"She doesn't deserve anything but the gallows!"

Gallows, the word broke the frown on John's forehead and was replaced with a chuckle. What a circus they had built in front of the hospital. It was worrisome at first, but now, they just looked like a bunch of chickens, desperate, clucking, and ruffling each other's feathers. What good was it to stand there and protest when they have already convinced themselves, the mayor, and the court to bring Alyssa to trial? He couldn't understand their train of thoughts. Again, Alyssa was right. They weren't anything but mindless creatures.

"I'll get their car. This isn't the place to discuss your sister's case."

Out of everything that came out of the detective's mouth, those words were perhaps the only ones he instantly agreed on.

It took them almost ten minutes to get to detective Howe's car. Torturous would be the only adjective John can use to describe how they navigated their way against people who blocked their path every second. Seriously, what the hell was wrong in their community?

When he and the detective settled themselves inside the car. Howe turned to look at him and asked, "Have you seen the bones of the deceased?"

John took a deep breath and answered, "Yes, I was told that something wasn't right about them."

"That's true. I also sent a copy of the photograph I took to a friend of mine. I'm still waiting for his opinion, but something tells me he'd see what I saw."

"There's no need for that detective. We all know what's wrong with those bones. The only thing I'm relying on now is the result of the DNA testing done to those bones."

A few from the detective's forehead shot adrenaline through John's body. He knew that look and something told him he was about to hear something he wouldn't like.

"Haven't you heard? They said the results were inconclusive."

"That's bull," John yelled as Howe started the ignition of his car.

"I know, that's why I'm assuming that someone powerful is behind this. I don't think your sister alone can handle this, John."

"They don't know Alyssa."

"Oh, I believe they do. Whoever did this? I'm sure they did it on purpose and knew exactly what your sister is capable of."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, detective?"

"Let's head to the morgue, I want you to see something."

Those were the last words spoken between them before detectives Howe maneuvered his car out of the parking lot and drove west, where the town's morgue was located.

The drive was spent in silence and at that moment John's thoughts once again drifted off toward Alyssa. Had she offended someone? Why her? Again the question of why plagued his head. Of all the people in Tarika-mindless, easily toyed with existences-why did one-whoever they were- choose his sister? Why?

"It's our luck, I guess doctor Shiam is in."

John glanced in the direction Howe was looking at and there, at the side of the edifice was a red jeep which he recognized to have belonged to the town's doctor. A frown marred his forehead when he asked the detective why doctor Shiam was allowed to handle the bones when she had a personal connection to the case. Shiam is the aunt of one of the missing kids.

Detective Howe answered him with a shrug and then murmured, "that's why I wanted you here."

It didn't take long before the duo found themselves standing in front of the morgue, but when detective Howe said to the guard that they were there to see the remains, he was answered with, "I'm sorry sir, but they were taken to the crematorium last night."