"You think I'm being paranoid?" Jema scoffed. "I have good reasons to believe Hartwood isn't safe for you guys anymore gran-gran. But I'm low on funds right now, when I get my next paycheck I'll rent you and Grandpa a nice house here in the city." She waited while the person on the other end of the phone spoke. She was on the train back to the city a day after the funeral. She'd sat through the tedious ride thinking back to the events surrounding Jacob's death and the current money laundering scandal which only seemed to be getting stronger. She'd woken to an unexpected email from Officer Murray asking for a word with her and she instantly knew it was just the beginning.

Even as her guts told her it wasn't safe for her grandparents back home she couldn't do anything for now, the funeral preparations had taken up most of her savings. "I know you like your farm and the people there gran-gran, it's not going to be easy to leave but please think about it, you and Grandpa. When I return next time I promise to tell you both everything. For now just... trust me okay?"

It was hard convincing old people who had spent their whole lives in a particular area to up and leave. Adjusting to a new life wasn't their best skill, but she had to or risk exposing them to the dangers of whatever Jacob had left behind.

She sighed in relief when their train got to her destination, Jema snatched her travel bag alongside her purse and headed through the terminal to wait along the road for her car. Otis had texted her a few hours before her arrival that he'd be pleased to pick her up from the station since Theodore was away on a sudden trip to Moscow.

Every form of giddiness she once felt at the prospect of seeing him again dissipated. Left in its wake was longing, strong, and daunting. The way he'd stared at her when she told him she'd be leaving for Hartwood like he couldn't bear to let her out of his sight for even a minute. She saw the tiny frown on his face when his lips thinned but he hadn't said much; rather he'd stood from his chair at the foot of the table and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. A quiet form of affection, it spoke more than his words would've ever done.

Jema smiled to herself amidst the burbly crowd, caring little about what passersby might think of her smiling into the air. A familiar horn tore her from her afternoon daze, Otis hurried out of the tiny Volkswagen with an exasperated look.

The scene threw her back to the beginning, a deja vu feeling of the moment when he'd picked her up just like this, she'd thought she was back in the eighties when he rolled up.

"Ms. Jema, I apologize for the delay. The car broke down on the way." He hissed under his breath. Otis wasn't one to fuss about even the most difficult things but seeing him all worked up surprised Jema. She allowed him to take her bag with him and tuck it into the trunk.

"Careful," she warned when he struggled with it for a while.
"Yes ma'am." He wiped his palms and headed for the driver's side. Jema sat behind and watched him start the car.

"Have you spoken to Fiona since she left?" Jema suddenly tore through the silence. Maybe the frustrations of heartbreak were behind his salty mood. Ever since Fiona left him, he's recoiled into his shell. Jema took notice of changes like that but had no time to address them, she'd been pretty occupied herself.

Otis kept silent, rather he drove faster like he needed to get her home and avoid answering her questions. "I know how hard it can be Otis, I mean I just returned from burying my husband a few feet away from my parent's grave. Sad isn't it?"

She saw his shoulders relax and the car speed settled into the usual. "I'm sorry, I had no idea."

"It's okay, you'd think after registering all these losses it gets easier... heartbreak feels the same."

"It can't be, at least I get to see Fi again but you... you can't."

Jema nodded, "True, so why wait around if you can just show up at her doorstep? You can get a ticket to wherever she's at and surprise her. I'm sure you both can work things out,"

"It's not that simple, Fi did something bad," he said harshly like he'd been beating himself up for it.

"Really?! What's that?"

"I don't know, she wouldn't tell me but that's how she got the money to travel far. I've been texting her to come home but she never responds. And finally, for the first time she does... but it's an SOS."

"What does that mean?"

"It means Save__"

"—No, I know what it means but why would she send such cryptic messages to you? Any further explanation?"

He sighed. "That's what I'm confused about, nothing! I can't even get a hold of her anymore. It's like her number doesn't exist anymore."

"Dammit!" Jema muttered to herself as her worried eyes strayed from Otis to the dashboard and at the dangling N&M logo swaying to the car's acceleration and paused when a sudden chill ran through her spine like cold dread.

Where had she seen that logo before? It felt so familiar yet unfamiliar.

"Otis," she called quietly. "What's that logo for?" She pointed at the black and gold colored logo still dancing on the dashboard.

"That?... that's the company logo,"

"What company?"
His scrutinizing eyes found hers through the head mirror. "Newman and Makeer, master Theodore's company."

Nothing! No alarm bells, not even a spark of recognition came to mind but she was certain she'd seen that logo somewhere that wasn't inside the car.

"I'm sorry about Fiona, I hope you find her before she gets hurt. Maybe when The—the master returns he can help." Jema said when their car stopped at the front door of the Brick mansion. He managed a nod while pulling her bag onto the front porch before landing a knock on the iron door.

Yellow lights seeped through the opening as the door cracked open to reveal Martha in her flowery apron and a soft look on her innocent face.

A pleasant smile spread on her face when she saw Jema. "You're back!" She cried and let the door wide open to accommodate Otis and the bag.

"Martha, I've missed you," Jema hurried and fell into her warm chubby hug. "You smell of pancakes, oh goodness I've missed every bit of you." She chided when she tore away from her.

"I was making them for baby Sam, apparently they're his favorite."

Jema made a face like she was shocked. "Oh yeah? When was that?"

"Oh," she hissed. "Just recently, Lilian has been teaching him to eat more soft foods than just breast milk and liquid. He's even crawling around the house like some soldier ant," she cackled as Jema watched in surprise.

"I see I've missed a whole lot just by being away for a few days. I bet he might just start to work the next time I take my eyes off him,"

Martha rolled her eyes. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, hun, let's get you inside and fed." She led Jema into the house but stopped short at the sight before them.

"Madame," Jema whispered.

"You're finally returned. Thought you might decide never to."

"Course not, I'm glad I can return to my job. I've missed Sam so much, heard he's been a cute nuisance in my absence," Jema's gaze flickered to Martha who stood rigidly beside her. She offered her an assuring smile. Despite Madame Evana's unwelcoming attitude toward Jema, she'd carried on like it was nothing. It wasn't easy but Jema found herself building resistance towards it, unlike Martha. It was only a tough skin that could save her place in the mansion.

"How was the funeral? Did you cry so much like last time?"

She remembered!
That Madame had stood amongst the small crowd at her parents' burial as well. Jema hadn't paid much attention to her back then until after the rites were done and she'd strolled up to Jema with a much softer smile on her face. Her gray hair wasn't all that gray and her aura was much more welcoming than what stood before her.

"Not today," Jema said to herself. "Indeed, unlike some others, people like me who love with all their heart know what such loss means. I'm glad he's resting, much more peaceful than some." She smiled when she saw the impact on Madame's poker face. She looked like she'd tear at her face in no time.

"Come, Jema before the food gets cold. You can change afterward." Martha tugged at her arm meaning to defuse the tension.

Her heart melted into a warm porridgy-like feeling when her eyes landed on the incredible scene of baby Sam, bouncing in his seat in a messy food puddle while nurse Lilian struggled to get food into his mouth. It looked like he was more occupied with whatever cartoon that was playing on the iPad set before him.

When his eyes shifted from the screen and landed on her, his eyes squinted and cheeks grew wider showing off his toothless mouth then he said the words for the first time. "Mama," Jema felt loved all over again.