Imagining calmed him down. Though he shouldn't, as told by his psychiatrist but Howe knew he had to create a space where he can escape. Imaginings brought him to places away from his past. He often dreamed that he was a baker and was never a soldier. He pretended that he was married and a businessman. But his psychiatrist believed that if he continued doing such things, he would never break free of the trauma he endured during his time on the battlefield. He was told piling dreams over his trauma might cause him more harm because it could boomerang. It could eat him up and end up failing to separate reality from make-believe.

But recently, he succumbed to various imaginings, because his nightmares about his days on the battlefield had started to plague him more than they did before. Alyssa Miller and her case appeared like a sketch of the confusion and pain he experienced years ago. Perhaps, deep inside him, he felt for the teen. He knew she was battling a demon inside her. But unlike him, whatever she was battling with was perhaps not still-lifes. No, what she had was perhaps in forms far from what he experienced every day. Not only in his sleep but even when he was awake.

Since he arrived in Tarika. He saw sketches of his demons caught in mundane moments like when he had his meal or when he was in the shower or merely driving through town.

Sighing to himself, he wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel of his car but didn't bring the machine to life. After he left Alyssa inside her cell, some of the things she said struck him deep. He felt like he had done everything he could, but was it possible that he did lack in some way? Had he missed something? He questioned himself over and over in the previous days but his doubt had reached its pique. He missed something, and it seemed, Alyssa knew what it was.

I don't talk about it because I can't.

She had repeated those words over and over. Alyssa is a smart girl, detective Howe had known that since he first laid eyes on her. With that in mind, he drifted back to Alyssa's interview when he got there seven days ago. Perhaps, she said something back then; one that meant more than what it meant.

**

Detective Howe stood from his chair. The four-walled room with its flickering light bulb and cold metal chairs has never felt so life-draining. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one as he threw the teen on the other side of him a glance.

"What truly happened that day Alyssa?" he asked as he puffed a cloud of smoke from his mouth.

The teen whose head was bent and resting on the cold metal table looked up at him. Her blood-shut eyes and disheveled look were pitiful and the detective wanted nothing more but to send her to a hospital before continuing with the interrogation, but the circumstances that led her to the police station forbids even the slightest delay of time. The town's people truly did a number on her. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the teen.

Losing his patience, the detective slammed his hand on the table, causing the teen to flinch but immediately regretted it when tears pooled at the side of her eyes.

"Look, I know how difficult this is but your life is at stake, you must tell me everything we need to know. You asked for me and now I'm here."

Silence.

He tried several times to force her into saying something but all she answered him with were tears and silence.

***

He re-played the conversation over and over in his head, but still, he found nothing. Staring at the police station, detective Howe opened his cigarette case and then lit a cigar. " Alright, what do I know about the case?" He asked himself.

The bones found were confirmed to be that of four boys and three girls. All are in the age range of 11 to 14 years old. That was the age range of the kids when they went missing. Some garments were also found with them, and with the help of the local police and some city laboratory, it was proven that they were the clothes worn by the kids on the day they disappeared. The name tag they wore which was all laminated was also found inside the grave.

It seemed like a perfect shot. But what bothered the detective and caused him to stay and continue to question was the DNA results. They came out inconclusive. According to the laboratory that examined the bones, the specimens they got were fragmented and imperfect, thus making it impossible to run a proper DNA test. Howe may not have been a genius or a science whiz but he knew it was impossible not to get DNA from bones. Those were perhaps one of the human body parts that would certainly possess and secure a person's DNA for thousands of years. When he questioned the lab, they mentioned that the salt that was smeared on the bones could have had a hand in it. But again, they couldn't tell.

That wasn't the only problem with the case. Doctor Shiam who looked at the bones said that the victims certainly died at least 30 years ago. She made the conclusion based on the physical appearance of the bones and the decayed leaves attached to them. That could have worked in Alyssa's favor, unfortunately, the doctor also noted in her report that since the bones were all drenched in salt-which seemed to have been done deliberately by whoever buried them-it made her findings questionable.

There were too many problems with the bones, but everything found inside the grave was the belongings of the children who went missing. Not to mention, the remains were the same number of males and females that disappeared. They also fell in the same age range. It felt as though, the evidence pointed that it was the grave site of the children, but the bones were not that of the children.

Howe tried to point those out when he reported to the chief of police of Tarika but his words were disputed because of his inability to explain how the belongings of those kids found their way inside the grave. He didn't go as far as accusing them that perhaps someone was framing the Miller girl because he had no evidence to support it. It also did not help that Alyssa only stared at him coldly when he questioned her. But now, she seemed to have decided to hint him something. Was the answer found in Alyssa's words? Her demeanor? The remains? Or perhaps, the answer was in the path he unknowingly turned a blind eye to.

The people of Tarika themselves.

Just as detective Howe turned the ignition on, his phone rang. Raising it to his ear, the voice of his superior in the city immediately assaulted his ears.

"Howe, there had been changes in the order I gave you previously. The Miller kid's trial is still postponed, but none of the agents we have is available you'd have to go through with the investigation yourself."

Howe took a long drag of smoke from his cigar. "You've got to be kidding me, Calvin, you know how sensitive this case is. Look, something is definitely..."

"Then leave! I don't know why you decided to stay there in the first place. And what's with the call you made to NBC news? The mayor of Tarika was furious when he..."

"Excuse me? The mayor? How did he even..." Howe paused mid-sentence because something had caught his attention. He squinted his eyes and there, taking careful steps at the side of the police station was Jhon, Alyssa's brother.

"What the fuck," he muttered. Without saying another word to his superior, he dropped the call and stepped out of his car.

"John!" He called. But the man didn't seem to have heard him because he continued to move forward.

Shaking his head, detective Howe made deliberate steps to follow the young man. He almost caught up with him but had to stop and take a step back when he saw Jhon with a man he had never seen before. He looked huge. About six feet in height had an overgrown beard and wore a black tux. Detective Howe scooted further back-hiding his visage with the aid of the wall just across the lot where John and the man stood.

Soon, John was on his way toward the back of the police building. The man with him headed the other way. Detective Howe pondered whether to follow Jhon or the man. It took him a while to decide and by the time he made his decision, the man in a black suit was already inside a red car, driving away from the police building.

Sighing to himself, Howe went after Jhon. It didn't take long for him to realize-after entering the police station-that John was headed towards the cells.

Figuring that perhaps, Jhon was there to visit his sister, detective Howe made no attempt to follow him further. He sat on a stool and there, he waited. He would have gone home if not for the question of, who was the man with Jhon and what had they talked about, plaguing his head.

Howe must have sat on the stool for about thirty minutes before Jhon emerged from the hallway that led to the cells. The young man was wearing a frown and he had scratches on his cheeks with fresh blood dripping from them. Wondering what had happened, he approached him.

"John," he called. But the young man didn't seem to have heard him because he continued on his tracks, moving forward with wide strides.

"John," he called out again, but still, the young man did not attempt to stop or look at him.

Angered, detective Howe ran after him. Upon reaching, he grabbed the young man's collar and spun him around to face him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you," Jhon yelled as he struggled to free his collar from detective Howe's grasp.

"I've been calling you, but you kept ignoring me, lad. What's wrong?'

John looked at him and then replied, "Will you let go of my collar, I'm about to choke."

Detective Howe released his hold on him but instead of a conversation, John made a run for the door. Though startled by the young man's demeanor, detective Howe managed to instantly run after him. A struggle ensued between them when he reached Jhon. The young man-whom to Howe had no reason to run from him-violently punched him in the face when he got a hold of his right arm. John then scurried away and tried to grab the door handle but detective Howe managed to steady himself-perhaps, faster than John anticipated. The detective then grabbed the hand John had latched on the doorknob, kicked him on the back of his knee-causing him to fall on the ground-then twisted his arm back, pacifying him completely.

"What the hell is wrong with you," Howe yelled as he continued to pin the still struggling Jhon on the floor.

"Let go of me. If you know what's good for you. Leave this town and let us be!"

Howe frowned. Those were the last words he expected to hear from the young man. Of all the people in town, even against Alyssa's parents, it was Jhon whom he expected to fight for him to stay in. What the hell was happening, Howe asked himself mentally as he released Jhon.

Struggling to his feet, Jhon looked at him and then murmured, "Sorry detective, but I believe the best thing right now is for you to leave, and after..."

"And after, he plans on helping me escape prison and flee from town."

Detective Howe swung his head back when he heard Alyssa.

"How the fuck had you gotten out of your cell," he yelled at her.

Alyssa landed a hand on her waist and then used the other to point at her brother. "Better ask my stupid brother," she replied.