Alexander stepped into the orphanage and drew his pistol out as he cautiously walked down the corridor and into the main living room. He approached the fireplace and looked at the pictures of Anastasia Volkov with several children over the years.

He picked up one of the frames and looked at the faces of each child carefully. "Oh, how times have changed, Volkov." He threw down the frame onto the ground and the glass shattered across the ground. He swept his hand across the bricks of the fireplace, knocking all the frames onto the cold, wooden floor. He walked out of the room; the glass cracked beneath his boots with each step he took.

He raised his pistol and went up the stairs. One by one, he checked each room to make sure he was alone. He holstered his pistol and grabbed a candle from one of the rooms before he took out a lighter. For the glory of the Huntsmen clan, he thought as he lit the candle.

He raised the candle and grabbed a cord connected to the ceiling. He pulled it down and the door to the attic opened as a ladder extended down. Alexander climbed the ladder and, in the attic, he saw an old table, several boxes, and a few chairs. He dragged one of the chairs to the table and placed the candle on top.

He searched through some of the boxes and found an old photo album. How many precious memories have you kept, Volkov? He flipped the pages until something piqued his interest. Wolfgang? I see. He sat and placed the album down. He removed one of the pictures and took out a cigarette from his pocket. He held it near the flame of the candle and burned the edge. He placed it over the faces in the photograph, except a young William. He flipped through the pages once more until he came across an old, black and white photograph.

He removed it from the plastic and held it up. My, how times definitely changed. A huntsmen with members of the Wolf and Red Hood clans, he thought. My ancestor, you have been avenged for being wrongfully accused and slain by a wolf. Are you proud? He put down the photograph. I will not allow history to repeat itself.

He ripped up the old photograph so only the Huntsman remained. He held the other piece over the candle's flame and watched it burn before his eyes. Everything is going according to plan, he thought. A Red Hood and a Wolf is too deadly of a combination to be left alive. He drew his pistol and laid it flat on the table. Those two should be here any second for the climax, he checked his watch. The Witching Hour is nearly over. They will fall before the sunlight dawns over our fair city.

William stopped the car at a traffic light as Scarlett went through the new evidence.

"Second layer of fingerprints and obviously his own on the inside," Scarlett said. "Alex must've thought nobody will find it."

"How long?" William asked.

"Excuse me?" Scarlett asked with a puzzled tone. "How long, what?"

"How long have you known him?"

"Ever since my freshman year of high school," Scarlett said. "Why?"

"Do you still trust Alexander?" William asked. "From your freshman year of high school to the day you graduated from a university. That's eleven years for you. Are you alright?"

"So what? I'm just fine, Will. You don't have to worry about me," Scarlett said.

"So what? That means the bond you had with Alexander after all these years has already started to crumble?" William mused. "For eleven years, you followed the light he showed you. This is the day you have to step out of your comfort zone, Scarlett." He stepped on the gas pedal. "We've been partners long enough for me to recognize when you're not okay. You'll say you're fine, you'll say you're okay and want to get things done. You can save some time right now and just admit that you're actually scared or be as stubborn as you always are." He parked the car near the sidewalk.

"Fine!" Scarlett yelled. "I'm not fine. You know that. I'm scared! I'm scared that we'll find something in his apartment that'll further validate our suspicions of Alex being the true murderer! Alex was more than just a teacher; he became a father figure to me. I was glad to call him my friend, my mentor. After eleven years, this case is turning all of it into nothing." Tears swelled up in her eyes. "I don't want to believe he's the killer, but I have to face facts. What do I do, Will?"

William leaned over and hugged her. "Look, everything will be okay after this. If the situation turns for the worst, then we'll have to do what must be done. He tried to frame both of us, despite the history we shared. He knew what we were capable of. I know you're strong and I need you to stay strong as we go through this. I looked up to him and respected him too, but it all had to come to an end sometime." He let go. "Alright?"

Scarlett nodded and wiped her tears away. "Right. Let's get this over with. I- we need to have a serious talk with Alex."

William grabbed a metal case from the back seat and opened it. Inside two pistols rested. Scarlett grabbed one and loaded the magazine as William did the same with the other. They holstered their guns.

Scarlett stepped out as William pocketed the keys. They walked into the building as Scarlett and William flashed their badges to the landlord. The landlord pointed up when they asked which floor Alexander was staying at.

"Second floor." William sighed. "Figures. Stairs or elevator?"

"Stairs," Scarlett said. "It's faster and obvious." They ran up the stairwell and walked up to Alexander's apartment door. They leaned against the wall with their guns drawn as Scarlett inserted the key and unlocked the door. She turned the doorknob and pushed the door open as they both raised their guns and aimed into the apartment.

"Of course it's empty," William said as they entered.

"Search for any clues to where he's gone," Scarlett said as she holstered her gun and took out her phone. She pulled up the picture of the faint, bloody shoe print.

William searched Alexander's desk until he found a note. "Found something," he said as Scarlett checked the bottom of each boot to see if any matched.

She turned over the fourth pair of boots and saw a dark crimson stain underneath. "Just what I was afraid of," she sighed. "What did you find?"

"Here." William passed the note to her. "See for yourself."

If you're reading this, you know where to find me. A criminal should never return to the scene of the crime. I'll be waiting.

-A

"Back to the orphanage it is," Scarlett sighed.

"What did you find at the orphanage that you didn't show me?" William asked. "This wouldn't be the first time anyway."

Scarlett showed him the picture from her phone. "This was leading from the inside to the trash on the side of the building." She picked up the boot and showed the underside. "Red crimson stains. The texture is the same as the one in the picture and different from paint. So, there's our validation."

"Let's go," William said. "It's time we get our answers. This place is taking a toll on you."