Memory

As the words "Raimi Inventors" entered Will's ears, a memory rose to his mind's eye.

A broken man, not in body but in mind, crying on the ground.

A ruthless figure claiming that it was all acting, and that the man had gotten what he deserved.

A child, watching from a small hole in a door.

And himself, being told that life was a cruel thing, and that people should not be taken at face value.

He did not remember further, as if the rest was hidden in clouds of billowing smoke.

This…was that kid?

"Sam Raimi. Your father called you…Dimples."

Liz had been staring with a puzzled expression on her face after Sam had made that statement. She didn't know what to think of the situation, but for some reason, she couldn't believe that the man she had hugged yesterday could do something like that.

Of course, Sam hadn't been insinuating that William was the culprit; instead, he was blaming his father.