"Don't be so naïve, child!"

Even after the policemen had left, Sineas and his aunt stayed in their sitting positions for a bit longer. Both were obviously thinking.

'You think they'll be back?' Sineas asked her.

She tried to look at him but she only gave him a glimpse then turned back to the carpet. She answered, 'These are the police, Sin. What do you think?'

He stood up and looked down at her. 'Aunt Janice, I've seen first-hand how quick these guys are to jump to conclusions. They'll do anything to make sure their half-baked evidence sticks.'

'I'm not going to prison, Sineas,' she said. 'I'm not going to let any prison record mar my job opportunities.'

'Aunt Janice, do you think that matters right now? If Charles makes this evidence stick on either or both of us we're looking at life imprisonment with no possibility of parole!'

Her eyes immediately flared up. She jumped to her feet. 'Your mother, Sin.'

'What about her?' he asked her staring at her suspiciously. She was wearing an enlightened look.

'I'm not going to jail for her crimes,' she said.

'Crimes? What crimes?'

'Sin, my boy, I love my sister but this is her doing. Think about it…'

'Aunt Janice, please stop! Stop with all these accusations. Mama should be left out of this. She spent eleven years in an asylum and you never even bothered to visit her and now you want her to do another hundred years?'

Aunt Janice squinted. 'What do you mean I never visited her? Sineas, I've visited your mother everyday after work except when I have nightshifts.'

'That's not what she said.'

Her eyes looked like they could fall out of their sockets. 'What did you say? Sineas; what the hell did you just say?!'

He choked and became silent. He placed his hands in his pockets and began shuffling his right foot on the carpet. He avoided her gaze. That raging fire only he could recognize. The only one that could burn one's soul just by a mere glimpse. He felt a sharp pain in his arm. Aunt Janice was squeezing it.

'You talked to her didn't you? Didn't you?!'

'In…In my first visit.'

'Don't lie to me, boy!'

Sineas was fighting to evade her eyes. They burnt and they made him cringe, but now she had both her hands on his arms in a vice grip, forcing his gaze into hers. It was as if she knew the power her eyes possessed.

'Even after I told you, Sin to tell me if she contacted you, you still decided to hide it from me!'

'I…I don't know why you're upset, Aunt Janice. She's fine now and even people liked her there in Breechwood: the nurses and…'

'Don't be so naïve, child! You've only known your mother for six years! I grew up with her and believe me when I say her heart and mind will always be in the wrong place.'

Sineas tried to break free. 'No! Mama's a good person! She loves me! She said so herself, Aunt Janice. She said she missed me…'

She pulled him towards herself in one quick and powerful motion and slapped him hard on his left cheek.

Sineas became a statue. His entire body was immobile but the left side of his face was in torment. It felt like someone had lit a fire on his face. He looked back at her because he knew if he looked down, the tears would start falling and this time, they might never stop.

Aunt Janice was like a caged dragon, breathing out hot fumes. Her eyes a dark, red colour. Her left was just as quick, and it landed squarely on Sineas' right cheek.

He staggered two steps back. He was beginning to see funny looking shapes in the room. Shapes of many different colours. Beautiful colours. He kept staring at her, his entire face burning and his brain rocking back and forth in its cranium. He took two steps forward.

She went for a third one.

Sineas grabbed her right hand just before it made contact. He was so dizzy that when she swung it, it had looked like an axe.

She tried pulling free from his grip. It was locked shut. She heaved and twisted, breathing more fumes.

Sineas pushed her hard and she bounced off the sofa and fell onto the floor.

She sat up, her eyes filled with shear terror now.

He ran upstairs into his room. As soon as he got inside, he slammed the door shut.

Inspector Charles and Deputy James had returned to the station, sitting across each other in the inspector's office. The patient files were now back on the desk, including some notes both men had scribbled on; a few more hypotheses and epiphanies.

The officers were worn-out. James looked over the inspector's shoulder. The sun was slowly setting in the background.

The inspector detected James' hint of overtiredness. He said, 'Check David's file again. Maybe…'

'Sir, I've checked David's file like eight times now. There is nothing that connects him to the murders. He's clean and so are the rest of the patients.'

The inspector clasped his fingers in front of his mouth. He shook his head. 'Something about the Murphys, James. Something about that bunch that makes me think that somehow, just somehow, they're involved in this.'