)

Gabriel was talking to the police while Mason sat inside a police car, his eyes looking more lifeless than Hudson's. 

Grayson took a quick glance at Alison, who sat beside him on the school's entrance. She seemed completely drained, much like himself. Their clothes were stained with Hudson's blood, and Alison had smudges of it on her face. Her dress was torn at the edges, while Grayson's jacket had a big hole on his side. Alison struggled to get up, a pained expression crossing her face, probably from her stitches hurting. 

They stood silently, watching as Hudson's body was put into the ambulance. Alison turned to Cora with a worried expression and asked about William. Her concern wasn't just about his well-being; she feared William might face Hudson's fate. Cora assured her that William was fine, attempting to provide some comfort. However, Grayson could sense that Alison wasn't entirely convinced by Cora's reassurance, and neither was he. So Grayson suggested asking Gabriel for answers.

They both walked up to where Gabriel was talking. The man Gabriel was talking to looked older, maybe in his 50s. He was slightly over weight, regardless of his clothing, wore a badge on his chest and had a sidearm holstered at his waist.

Grayson had no particular interest in talking to Gabriel and was grateful when Alison spoke up first, demanding an explanation, beginning with, "Who's he?"

The man beside Gabriel chuckled despite the recent grim events. "This is the team leader of the Crime Scene Investigator, Rupert," Gabriel introduced, gesturing towards his companion.

"Alison Emrys, I presume?" Rupert shifted his attention to Alison. "Tell me, Ms. Emrys, how do you feel about inheriting your brother's mess now that he's gone, along with Mason's?"

Who in their right mind would ask such a question? Grayson felt a surge of anger welling up within him, as he fought the urge to lunge at Rupert and bring him down, just as he had done with Mason.

Rupert shifted his gaze from Alison to Grayson, perhaps sensing Grayson's discomfort. "What part do you play in all this, Mr. Hawth-"

"How about you enlighten us with some answers for a change, Rupert?" Alison retorted sharply, clearly expressing her dislike for him.

Rupert nodded at Alison and then turned to Gabriel, his expression unreadable.

Gabriel fetched a folder, presumably containing the social contract, and handed it to Alison. She stared at it for a while, and Grayson wondered if she would ever find the courage to open it.

"What you're holding is The Social Contract," Rupert explained. "But it's only half of it. We believe Mason foresaw this situation and hid the other half. We have reason to believe you might possess that missing portion."

Alison's eyes remained glue on the folder as if it held the answers to the questions that had haunted her for so long. Seemingly ignoring the conversation, she then asked, "When did Hudson hire you?"

Rupert, growing annoyed with Alison, and perhaps with Grayson too, replied curtly, "Six months back."

Alison paused, her gaze still on the folder. She asked further, "Why did Hudson hire you?"

Rupert seemed baffled, glancing at Gabriel in disbelief. "Is this some kind of joke?" he retorted, shifting his gaze back to Alison.

Alison finally tore her gaze away from the folder and looked up at Rupert, her eyes sharp and calculating. "You've been working for Hudson for six months, and as far as I can tell, you've found nothing," she remarked with a hint of mockery. "What makes you think that I, Alison Emrys, would have the second half of the Social Contract? Especially when I'm the very person Mason was trying to hide it from."

A tense silence hung in the air as everyone awaited Rupert's response. Finally, he spoke, his tone serious. "Hudson shared what he knew at the time, but it was obvious he kept secrets," Rupert glanced briefly at Grayson, then returned his gaze to Alison. "We were hired to terminate the Social Contract and assist you if needed."

Alison's scrutiny continued, and it was clear she was trying to piece together the puzzle. 

"Alison, if you have any information regarding the Social Contract, it would be in your best interest to share it with us. We're here to help you," Rupert sighed, clearly growing impatient with the negotiation.

Alison crossed her arms, her gaze flickered to Grayson briefly. Grayson could sense her reluctance to reveal anything more, especially without knowing their true intentions. "I'd need some assurances first," she finally stated. "What guarantee do I have that you won't use the information against me or for your own gain?"

"Alison, you can trust me, trust us, just like your brother did," Gabriel chimed in, his tone soft and persuasive.

And look where it got him, Grayson thought but kept it to himself. 

Grayson watched closely, curious to see how Alison would respond to Gabriel's appeal, and whether she would be swayed by the connection he claimed to share with Hudson.

"I have no knowledge of the Social Contract," she replied firmly. "As professional investigators, you should be aware that I was under the influence of drugs during its signing." Her statement made it clear that she wouldn't trust them without reason. 

"We can provide you with a legally binding agreement, guaranteeing that any information you share with us regarding the Social Contract will not be used against you and will remain confidential, if that would make you feel better," Rupert offered beside Gabriel. 

It was painfully clear to Grayson that Rupert was solely focused on business, not knowing how much Alison had lost in one day or how close to the edge she was. He knew, though, that losing control in this moment would only make matters worse. 

Alison then excused herself, and nobody tried to stop her. Grayson decided to follow her, knowing that lingering any longer would likely result in him being handcuffed and occupying the back seat of the police car alongside Mason. 

He had a pretty good idea of where Alison was headed, and it was that hidden, forsaken garden. Maybe he shouldn't have been tailing her, but deep down, he understood she needed someone, and it reluctantly dawned on him that he was the only one left who could offer her any comfort.

They climbed the stairs together in silence, her diary pages that glowed in the dark casting a soft, eerie light on the walls. When they finally reached the garden door, Alison pushed it open, welcoming the cool night breeze that swept over them.

Grayson stood behind her, unsure of what to say or do. Vulnerability was something she refused to show, not at this moment, nor at any other time. 

Suddenly, Alison marched toward her rose bed, dropping to a crouch, and began yanking out every single rose with a fury that was hard to ignore. Grayson stood there, watching as she tore into each rose, each one a target of her anger. She yanked, kicked, and shredded roses until not a single one stood intact.

Turning her attention to the solitary maple tree in the garden, she unleashed her pent-up frustration, delivering fierce kicks and punches. Grayson cautiously approached her, reaching out to grasp her arms. 

"Stop Alison," he implored, but Alison refused to relent. She wrested her hands free from Grayson's grip and continued her assault on the tree.

Grayson wasn't ready to give up, though. Once more, he took hold of her hands, but Alison, her resolve unbroken, pulled free again and resumed her relentless attack on the tree.

"Alison, please stop," Grayson urged, but she didn't and continued to punch the tree, her hands slowly bleeding from the bark. 

Determined to break through to her, Grayson pivoted and firmly gripped her shoulder, forcing her to face him. 

Tears ran down her cheeks, her blue eyes heavy with sorrow. Her lips, usually adorned with a warm smile, were now downturned, quivering. Her shoulders slumped under the burden of her grief as if the weight of the world had settled upon her. 

In that moment, Grayson knew that all Alison really wanted was to cry, drown herself in ice cream, and numb the pain with alcohol. But above all, she needed a distraction.

Without hesitation, Grayson pulled her into a comforting embrace, his fingers stroking soothing patterns through her hair. 

"It's alright, Alison," he murmured softly, his words a gentle caress against her ear. 

She leaned into him, her sobs gradually subsided, replaced by a quiet sniffle as she buried her face in the crook of Grayson's shoulder. 

As Grayson held Alison, he faintly heard shouts, especially Cora's voice, rising from somewhere behind them. A gut-wrenching sense of disgust churned within Grayson. The sheer audacity of these people struck him like a sledgehammer blow.

First, there was Rupert, who heartlessly questioned how Alison felt about her brother's death, as if she was to blame. It was a twisted question that made Grayson's blood boil.

Then, there was Gabriel and Cora who observed Alison meticulous planning, her unwavering determination to obtain the folder Gabriel now held, fully aware of her intentions. Yet they just stood by, merely carrying out their roles as paid investigators of Hudson, seemingly without a care.

Little did they know that Alison, knowing Mason so well, probably expected that the folder only had half of The Social Contract. She probably guessed that Mason protected the rest as a compressed and encrypted file too. After all, she understood Mason better than anyone.

All of these thoughts gnawed at Grayson. If only they had known, if only Hudson had shared his plans, perhaps this nightmarish scenario could have been prevented. Alison might have broken free from Mason's control sooner, her parents could have made up, and Hudson could still be alive. 

In the quiet of the night, Grayson couldn't help but think about the painful "what-ifs" that now haunted Alison.