Ace holds his breath as he creeps into the kitchen, putting effort into making sure his footsteps are as quiet as a mouse. He stops when laughter erupts from the living room. Mr. Wilson is laughing at something, completely engrossed into it. So much that he doesn't notice Ace. Ace opened a cabinet and pulled out a kettle. It always took a while for the water to fill the kettle, so Ace focused on heating up 2  apple strudels in the oven. While doing this the kettle nearly overheated and he cursed as his stomach bumped rather harshly into the counter in his haste to turn off the tap. “Merde.”

Mr. Wilson called out, “Ace, are you okay?”

“Yes! Sorry”, Ace rubbed his stomach and nearly had a heart attack when he turned around. 

Mr. Wilson was now in the kitchen with him. The older man was staring at him, his brows knitted with worry. Mr. Wilson's eyes drifted down to the counter where Ace had all his breakfast items assembled. 

“Just tea and some apple strudels?” Mr Wilson ran a hand through what was left of his hair. 

Ace felt self conscious about his diet. He turned away, so Mr. Wilson couldn't see his face, putting a rock of sugar in his tea cup. “Yes, just this.”

“You don’t eat much do you?”

“I think I do”, Ace poured the hot water into the cup.

“Do you buy a lot of things to cook?” Mr. Wilson folded his arms.

“Margaux comes over once a week with groceries. She has a chef cook meals for me and she leaves them for me.” Ace takes his strudels out of the oven, burning his hands when he forgets to grab an oven mitt.

“...Margaux?”

“She works for my Papa."

“... your dad doesn’t buy it himself? Or your Mom? Then why don’t you go with Margaux?” 

Ace washes off the baking tray, taking his time to think over how much he can give away. “My Mama- Mother. My mother isn’t around. She hasn’t been for years. My Father doesn’t do the shopping for the house unless he needs something specific. And he doesn’t come over here. It’s too-  he just doesn’t like it over here”. 

“Oh” is all Mr. Wilson is willing to say in response.

The kitchen lapses into uncomfortable silence before Mr. Wilson flashes a smile then walks back into the living room. Ace sits down and bows his head to say a prayer before eating. Mr. Wilson changes the channel to the news and it mentions something that catches Ace’s attention. 

“Coming on at 8. Edenstone’s criminal trial is just about to begin. The hospital has been accused of abusing patients, forcing unnecessary procedures on patients and more but first-”.

Edenstone? Abusing patients? Ace is on his feet and in the living room before he can stop himself. Does Papa know the patients there were being mistreated? If they still are? Ace shakes his head. He might be - he has his moments. But he wouldn’t let Maman be mistreated. But his memories of being strapped down come back to him. Bile rushes to his throat. I’ll save you Maman. I swear it.

Oblivious to Ace’s near mental breakdown behind him, Mr. Wilson wags a finger at the tv. “It’s a shame what sick people do. I saw a group of youngsters arrested at the police department for asking questions. Everyone is spooked right now and they arrest people for wanting to know if we’re safe.” He shook his head before sinking into the couch.  

There are people asking questions? Maybe it won’t be hard to find out information then. Ace leaned over the couch to get a closer look at the courthouse shown on the screen where the trial would be held.

“Their poor families having to find out this way is just terrible”.

Ace’s head snapped over to Mr. Wilson for a split moment before he forced it back in the direction of the tv. He stood up and tried to breathe in, to force himself to relax. 

None of this went unnoticed. 

“Ace”.

Ace stopped on his way back to the kitchen. “Yes?” 

“How about, I teach you how to make an omelette?”.

“Sir?”

“I turned on the news and I shouldn’t have. It hardly ever has any good on it. Ever. Too many evil people to talk about. Your food is probably cold now. I can apologize to you by teaching you. And you can make yourself something proper to eat from now on. In case Margaux forgets to come over.”

She would never forget. But Ace doesn’t dare say that out loud. Not with how Mr. Wilson is looking at him.  He looks back to his food and tea briefly.

Mr. Wilson let out a chuckle, “I’m serious young man. I don’t ever see you eat and I don’t want you to waste away in this little place. I was young once and I remember not being able to throw together anything but I met my wife and that problem sorted itself out. But your generation is different. I can teach you what my wife taught me - the only thing I learned really, if you can indulge an old man?”.

I don’t eat in front of you because you can’t eat anymore. And I already finished the meals Margaux left me. But Ace shifted his eyes and said, “yes” instead.

The two stood over the small spread across the counter. Surprisingly Ace had all the ingredients or rather Margaux was good at her job, as Ace had said after they got everything. 

Mr. Wilson clapped his hands together, “now you can thank her by cooking her something. If nothing else, you can start your day off with a good meal."

Ace made the first mistake when he cut himself while cutting up the spinach. Then their next mistake was leaving the pan on to heat up while they were running around looking for a band aid. Ace didn’t have any. And the very second he put the oil into the pan, it shot up and burned him.  Ace had removed his shirt oil covered shirt and wiped the oil up with paper towels. Mr. Wilson had seen the scars on Ace’s back that went all the way up to the base of his neck. Even now, with Ace smiling down at his first finished omelet, Mr. Wilson's eyes kept drifting back to the now covered skin. 

“It’s not bad right?”Ace beamed at Mr Wilson.

Mr. Wilson leaned over to inspect it again, just to humor Ace and smiled, “yeah, it looks great. You gotta work hard to earn your living young man”.

A memory came back to Mr. Wilson. His son Jensen, walking up to him carrying a fish half his size. They had gone fishing for Jensen’s 7th birthday. 

“You caught this big thing Daddy!?”Jensen nearly toppled over from the weight of it. 

“I sure did. And make sure you’re careful with that thing! You gotta work hard to earn your dinner and I didn’t see you catch any fish today. If you lose that, we're not eating tonight!”.

“I got this dad! I’ll be the best helper! Better than Jimmy!”, Jensen hoisted it up  so its tail wasn’’t dragging on the ground.

He laughed at the determined look on his son’s face and bent down to ruffle his hair, “sure you will."

Ace brought him back to reality when he spoke up, “are you okay Sir?”

Mr. Wilson laughed and wiped away a few tears that had fallen down, "I'm fine. Just deep in thought."

Ace nodded and went back to eating, careful not to unravel the paper towel around his finger. A little bit of blood had begun to seep through. 

“Ace, I’ve been meaning to ask you something."

Ace nodded at him, chewing his food happily.  

“The night I was fighting with my son."

Ace’s face fell but Mr. Wilson continued on, “I know I told you about it before… but there’s more to it. … We were fighting because he hid some drugs in Allie’s teddy bear. It has a little pouch where you can open it and put things in it. It’s her prized possession. A little princess bear. He wanted his stuff back and I told him no. She was right there. And I wasn’t about to take it away to satisfy his … addiction.” he wipes away a tear that threatened to fall. “I thought the cops might have taken it because it was evidence because we were fighting over it but Allie is a kid and she probably didn’t tell them or rather didn’t know how to. The bear was in her room when I went back to see them.I don’t know if his stuff is still inside of it but I can’t risk her eating it. I know it’s a big ask and you’ve already done so much for me-”. He let out a sob. Then he covered his mouth to stop anymore from coming out. His shoulders were shaking as his sobs died down.

Ace waited for the older man to calm down, “I’ll get it, Sir”.

Mr. Wilson had a heavy weight on his shoulders still. Despite already passing away. Ace could see it clearly in his eyes from time to time. Ace often felt it too, since that night. Jensen had killed his own Father, and left behind a path of destruction others had to clean up. 

“I’ll help. It doesn’t matter what you need me to do. … it’s what my mom would have wanted me to do." Maybe I can have something good to tell her when I see her again. Ace smiled at the thought. I just have to figure out how to get into the house.

The two men were interrupted by a knock at the door. They shared a look before Ace went over to it and opened it. It was Mrs. Wilson. 

“Gemma?”, Mr. Wilson was next to Ace in the doorway. His hand came up, reaching out to his wife before he dropped his hand. He took in a shaky breath.

Ace kept his eyes forward, ignoring him, feeling awkward, “Hi, Mrs. Wilson. Is something … wrong?”.

She smiled at him, "No. Everything is okay, thanks to you. I wanted to invite you over to a home cooked meal to thank you. And apologize”. 

Ace forced a smile on despite the tight feeling growing in his chest.