“You’re back.” Father told me.

“I am.” Back from a life where I had a husband who lived me. It was as if I was running down an endless set of rooms. Each time I opened a door, hoping to find something new. And each time, it came back to this.

“I’m afraid I have to inform you that you are no longer welcome here. After you… withdrew all your money, you showed a great disrespect to this family.”

“I know.”

“This will be your only warning. We can’t have a spoiled brat running around our city. I hope you understand.”

“I do.”

“Why are you here, then?”

“I want to try and remember.” I admitted. “There’s a lie somewhere in the death of that man. Glen Elg. There’s a lie you and Grandfather told me, and if I never find out what it is, it’ll kill me. This—This man, Furio Tigre. There’s something not right about him. A-About the way you talk about him, I mean. If he really HAD used me, why didn’t I stab him? Why did I stab myself?”

“Are you saying you didn’t stab yourself?”

I shook my head. “No. No. I can believe that. I mean, that’s why it isn’t in the transcript. It’s not fiction. Not entirely, at least. But Furio Tigre – or something about him is – and I need to know why.”

“You’re obsessing needlessly.”

I slammed my fists against the table. “It’s all I have left!”

“I think you should go. I’m sorry.”

“If I didn’t stab him, it means I didn’t hate him. If I didn’t hate him, it means he didn’t use me. But why want to hide that? Believing you leads me to hate him. Choosing to believe the other option…” I close my eye. “Choosing to believe myself…”

“Viola…”

“Through the mist, I can make out little blurs of it. I’m in the courtroom. There’s a man on the stand. I don’t recognize his face – not in the dream – but I know him. And there’s this man pointing at him. Him, I know. Him, I’ve met. And the two are talking. And I feel myself getting upset. The man on the stand is upsetting me, but I don’t hate him for what he’s doing. I just know he’s doing something wrong.”

“You should leave this be.”

I couldn’t see it. In the corner of my mind, I searched and I searched through that abandoned building, but I couldn’t find the place where I was supposed to sleep. No room felt right. No hallway finite. The rain just kept going and going. The noise was too great.

But I was close.

I knew I was on the cusp of something.

“Father?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“What happened to Grandfather? Where is he know?”

“He’s dead.”

“Right. But really.”

“I don’t think he’d appreciate the visit.”

“He can kill me himself if he doesn’t like it.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. He’s living quietly. Doctor says his health’s declining. I don’t’ give him more than a year.”

“Name?”

“Andrew DeCarr. He has one of those… er, you know. The social thing. Where you make your profile and anything. Everyone uses it. He likes posting pictures of his dog. Should be easy enough to find him.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Whatever you intend to do, do it quickly.”