Najima watched from her den. She seemed satisfied to see her son cry from the anguish caused by the revelation of his family's death, that all hope had been a facade. While she looked on with satisfaction, her face covered with anger, Tanya also looked on, feeling ashamed and indignant.

-"Congratulations, Master. You destroyed all his hope with the news that his sister, who was his world and the meaning of life to him, had been dead all this time. Happy?" -Tanya said, indignant.

-"Are you accusing me of making him feel bad?" -Najima said.

-"No, no. The thing is, the poor cat has autism, and news like that completely devastates him. What's more, he's your son. What's happening is that you don't accept him as he is." -Tanya said.

-"...Excuse me?" -Najima said, questioning Tanya's reasoning.

-"The thing is, they planted the idea in your head that people are equal and essential, and that's not the case. I think you've already crossed the line. And knowing yourself that this kind of thing makes him sensitive... you don't care and you do it, and on top of that you seem to enjoy it. Do you want me to remind you of—?" -Tanya said, being interrupted.

-"SHUT UP! Or I'll break the crystal ball you're trapped in!" -Najima said, having had enough of Tanya.

-"I'm sorry, Master. But I think we all have an opinion. It's for you, and you alone." -Tanya said, kind of scared.

-"I can't believe that my word is being contradicted by a stupid voodoo-dumbass cat." -Najima muttered silently.

Najima, annoyed by the simple fact that her assistant contradicted her, storms off but is still pleased to see her son cry for the first time in years. While Tanya is alone in the room, she sees the other magic ball that shows Marcel doing it. It shows him hugging Alessandra, crying in panic. Tanya felt not only indignation but something more: sorrow.

-"I think this is the death of innocence... tragic, depressive, of nothingness... always being at first a facade disguised as hope." -Tanya said, with a lump in her throat.

Tanya just watches, saddened, processing everything she saw, unable to do anything about it, even though she wanted to. She knows perfectly well that no one should go through such a situation. In the midst of it all, something forms inside her... a voice that screams rebellion.

It was nighttime in Bayou La Batre, near a lake. Marcel was sitting nearby, curled up in the fetal position. The poor cat refused to accept that his sister had been dead all this time. He didn't want to know anything else about the world for that moment. There were times when he would look at the bright wishing star, as it kept him closer to her.

Alessandra watched him from afar. She felt helpless knowing she couldn't do anything about it. She'd hoped for a happy ending, an optimistic one, but something quite good for him. Now, knowing that Marcel's family was dead, her goal of making him happy had failed. Feeling complicit in everything, she decided to talk to him. She couldn't force him not to cry.

-"I'm sorry to hear your family is dead. What can I say about it? It was my fault you felt this way. Honestly, I wasn't expecting an ending like this." -Alessandra said.

-"There's nothing I can do, Chérie. I can't process everything I'm feeling right now. C'est la vie..." -Marcel said, depressed.

-"I'm sorry, Marcel. If there is something that... I can do..." -Alessandra said, feeling pity.

-"But Alessandra, ze thing is that I miss my sister so much! Elle était mon monde… without Mom noticing. And learning she died… c’est trop. It's really overwhelming for me. Ze saddest part is that when I look at ze brightest star in the sky… it's ze only thing that helps me feel close to her. I miss her so much..." -Marcel said, in a whiny voice.

Marcel's hands were shaking. He seemed to be nervously stimulating, on the verge of another breakdown, and his eyes were teary. Alessandra felt excessively guilty about the cat's sadness, telling herself a thousand times that she could have done better.

-"My mother died one day from a disease called polio... and I was depressed. My father, on the other hand, was angry with her. It was because she refused to accept treatment for the disease. He couldn't get over her death." -Alessandra said.

-"But I miss her so much! I miss the times when... we used to read a book... when we slept together, hugging each other... those times when we played together and things like that. Mon dieu... she told me once that if I missed her, I could see the brightest wishing star in the sky. Because it would be the same, she would be watching when she'll miss me. Now, the star is the only thing I got to keep her near me." -Marcel said.

Alessandra was devastated by what she heard. It was clear he was missing her terribly. And now, seeing her again would be quite impossible. He was going through a tough time. He couldn't take it anymore and hugged her tightly. He began to cry anguishedly. Alessandra sighed, feeling even more guilty. She just wanted to see him happy.

-"Never say never... but sometimes you have to say never. I'm sorry, but you'll never see her again." -Alessandra said.

Alessandra continued to hug him. She felt a strong lump in her throat.

It was dawn at the McGee mansion. Miss Alice got up early to do the housework. She knew Marcel was out of town. While she was washing the dishes, she heard the doorbell ring. She was surprised. At first, she thought it was Marcel, but no. It was a postman.

-"A letter for Alice McGee?" -The postman said.

-"Oh, yes, that's me." -She said.

She closed the door and read the letter. It was from Alessandra. Reading it, she was speechless: it was the news that Marcel had learned, by chance, that his family and sister had died, all of it a facade. She was deeply worried, since she hadn't seen her stepson suffer for a long time.

-"Oh, dear... so, all the family of my stepson... is gone forever?" -Miss Alice said, astonished.

She remembered a lesson she'd taught her stepson: that death is a part of life, that we are all going to die at any moment, and that it is natural. Nothing lasted forever. But what she couldn't believe was that all the hope her stepson had of seeing Cassandra again was a complete facade. She felt sensitive since she didn't know how much her stepson had suffered upon finding out.

-"Poor Marcel. Poor, poor Marcel..." -Miss Alice said with pity. "You... you shouldn't be passing by such situations."

At the Marglow Bar, Elizabeth was arranging other things in the bar, such as chairs and glasses, even the bottles. The postman, the same one who had come to deliver the news to Miss Alice, arrived to give her another letter. Elizabeth was incredulous. She couldn't believe that Marcel's family, the Lacroixes, had been dead all this time.

The news hit her hard. Suddenly, she felt a flashback. A flashback that explained a few things.

In that flashback, she saw herself... with Pierre, Marcel's father. It turns out Pierre was a worker there, along with Najima. The thing is, the bar was there before the Prohibition era, too, but when it hit the country, they had to downsize to a simple speakeasy. And in 1912, one year before they died, Pierre and Elizabeth had a conversation.

-"Honestly, I don't know what to do. My wife, for some reason, forbade my two children from being together. They didn't do anything wrong!" -Pierre said, visibly worried. "I suspect she has contempt for my son with autism."

-"I suspect so too," Elizabeth said. "That jealousy is easily noticed. What else did you notice about him?"

-"I've noticed strange marks on him. Marks as if he'd hit himself, even a bruised eye. My daughter wouldn't do something like that, and neither would I," -Pierre said. "My brothers didn't do anything to her either. And my wife hasn't said anything."

-"I'm afraid, or I have a feeling, that if we report her... she might somehow rebel against us," -Elizabeth said.

-"So... in case I or the entire family die or disappear, except for my wife... you must give him up for adoption with the right person and fake his death. It's the only way to stop her from searching for him, if that's the right thing to do." -Pierre said. "Remember... he's a Courvoisier... but with a noble heart."

-"So, in case the Lacroix family dies or disappears... I must find the right person?" -Elizabeth asked.

-"Yes. That's how it should be." -Pierre said. "Remember, you know this very well. You're his godmother, and you know this very well. But if Najima is truly an abuser, then she'll hunt him down. And the best thing for him would be to keep him away from his mother. I know the best option would be to escape from the village, but what if she's watching you all the time?"

The flashback ended. Elizabeth was still stunned by such a revelation. She only managed to mutter, "No... Pierre..."

After all, there are hidden secrets.

And some of them come to light.