It was hard to tell what they were arguing about. From what I've witnessed of Nathan's temper, it could've been anything. Whatever the case, Nathan and Joel were nose to nose. And per usual, there wasn't a counselor close enough to stop it.

The group home residents were scattered across the grass; with Nathan, Joel, Yasmine, and a few other residents bunched together by the edge of the lake. Joel was closest to the water while Nathan pointed in his face. That was already a bad sign. One wrong move and the lake would swallow Joel whole. Whether that be because Nathan pushed Joel into the lake or because Joel fell into the lake himself. It was a recipe for disaster either way.

"You think you're Mr. Tough guy now, huh?" Nathan shoved Joel's chest. Joel flinched but he didn't back away. Nathan shoved Joel's chest again and spat, "Didn't learn your lesson when I bashed your nose in? What have you been saying about me to your little friends?"

"Careful, Nathan!" Yasmine barked. There was a wild, panicked look in her eyes as she looked around the lake—likely in search of a counselor. She was so frantic, she stepped forward, maybe to place herself in between them since no one else was jumping in.

Honestly, I couldn't blame her for being so concerned. What concerned me the most was the rusty, old hammer sticking out of Nathan's back pocket.

Mark reached out for her wrist. "Stay out of this." It looked like he whispered to her. She backed down and clenched her fists at her sides as if she was waiting for someone—anyone—to put an end to the madness. No one did anything though. The remaining residents merely lingered near the scene as cryptic onlookers, whispering among themselves.

"Well? Say something!" Nathan gritted his teeth.

Even though Joel remained quiet, he made it his mission to defend himself in silence. He fixed his feet so they were planted steadily against the ground. Probably to prepare for the next push Nathan gave him. All that did was piss Nathan off further.

Was being on the receiving end of Nathan's rage worth it? Ehh, I didn't think so. But it looked like Joel was trying to prove a point. And that point was: Joel wouldn't give into Nathan's bullshit anymore. That's when the situation began to escalate.

"Guess you're not going to say anything, huh?" Nathan said.

"I'm not the only one who thinks that way about you. . ." We could finally hear Joel's voice. But he spoke in such a soft tone, it was almost hard to hear him. That most certainly wasn't the best thing for Joel to say, considering Nathan's veins were pulsing in his forehead. Not only did Joel confirm that he talked shit about Nathan but that he wasn't the only one who did it.

"What the fuck did you just say!?" Nathan snapped.

I knew Nathan would throw the first punch. What I didn't know was that Joel would try and defend himself this time. He threw up his arms to block the punch. But he was a moment too late. As if that weren't alarming enough, Nathan's knee rammed into Joel's stomach causing Joel to hunch over and dry heave.

"Did you just try to hit me, you little shit!?" Nathan yelled as he pounded into Joel's stomach again. Nathan couldn't have been further from the truth. Still, the punches and kicks happened repeatedly. Joel barely had a moment to breathe.

Finally, what I feared happened—Joel was laid out on the ground as Nathan reached for the hammer. No one broke them up. No one called a counselor. Everyone looked on in shock while Nathan took the hammer to Joel's legs. With the exception of the few screams that could be heard in the background, including Yasmine's.

It was those very few screams that finally captured the attention of the counselors. I could hear whistles and an overwhelming amount of yelling for Nathan to stop. All of Joel's pain bled into me, causing my legs to shake and my chest to cave.

By the time the counselors pried Nathan off of Joel's limp body, Joel's head was halfway in the water as he lay unresponsive on the ground. I'd honestly thought he'd drown or choke on his own spit.

Talk about something awful. I could barely stomach looking at the damage on Joel. And funnily enough . . . it heavily resembled the damage done on Nathan's corpse now. As well as Fiona's corpse. And Reggie's. And Kane's. No doubt in my mind Courtney was on that list.

"Anyway . . . all of us were moved to a new location," Robert finished talking by the time I finished revisioning what happened. I must have been noticeably shaken up because Robert frowned, then nudged my arm. "Are you okay, kid?" he asked, slowly.

"W-what?" I snapped out of my daze. "Oh. Yeah, I'm fine." Robert didn't look the slightest bit convinced. Honestly, I wouldn't believe me either. Especially not when I was struggling to stand straight. I could still feel the vibrations from the hammer in my legs. However, he chose not to comment.

I cleared my throat and spoke again, "Um, where did Joel go after the group home closed?"

"Hell if I know." His eyebrows rose. "We were all separated and I never saw Joel again."

Something flipped in my gut—felt like my instincts were kicking in.

Something was off here.

"You ask a lot of questions you've got no business asking, kid," Robert added.

I winced and looked away. "I'm sorry, that was the last one."

"You better be careful. . . That could get you killed one day." If it were anyone else, they might have thought Robert's warning was a threat. I knew, however, that wasn't the case.

I nodded and sighed. "Mhm, I know. Trying not to make it too bad of a habit." Robert nodded in acknowledgement. "Anyways, thanks for talking to me. I better get going before my mom loses her mind waiting for me. . ."

For the first time, I heard Robert chuckle. It wasn't a laugh. But it surely was something. "Best you start heading over there then," he said, opening the door wider.

"Yeah, enjoy the rest of your afternoon," I replied. I heard him return my sentiments before he closed the door behind me.

"How'd it go?" was the first thing my mother asked when I approached her.

"It went well." I shrugged, following her into the house.

"Okay, that's good to hear—" She was cut off by the loud blaring of my ringtone. When I pulled out my phone, Christian's caller ID was bold on my screen. She raised her eyebrow, nonetheless, she walked back into the kitchen to give me privacy.

I answered the phone, "What's up?"

"How long has your mailman been on that route?"

"What?" I asked, baffled.

"Your mailman? You're close to him, right?"

"I mean, we talk here and there. But we're not close."

"What's his name?" The urgency in Christian's tone unsettled me.

"Christian, what's this all about?"

"I'll explain in a minute. Just answer me!" he hissed.

"Okay, okay!" Now, I was freaking out. "His name is Byron. He's been working this route for two months now. Seriously, why? What's going on?"

"Byron Sanchez?" Christian didn't answer me.

"What? I don't know, I guess!" I yelled.

"Just listen, okay? Logan and I have been trying to trace your packages back to a sender for the past few weeks. Come to find out, they were being sent from the local post office."

"Okay and?" I frowned. 

Wasn't that to be expected? That seemed normal enough to me.

"Someone at the post office was sending them"—Christian inhaled—"someone working there, and so we did a little digging. We couldn't find any records on Joel Cano because Joel Cano doesn't exist anymore."

I had a feeling I knew where this was going and I didn't know how to process it.

Christian continued, "He's been living as Byron Sanchez, and he's been right in front of our faces this entire Goddamn time!"

My heart dropped.

Joel Cano. Byron Sanchez. The same Byron who politely greeted me everyday?

I let out a hard laugh. "No. . ."

"Yes," Christian insisted.

"How"—I paused to collect my thoughts, then tried speaking again—"I don't understand. Where is he now? I have so many questions. Are you going to bring him in for questioning?"

"Tyler, we have another issue. . ."

I gulped. "What is it?"

"Mark—Yasmine's brother—called the station. He said Yasmine went out for a walk and she has yet to return." Shit. "But we think we might know where she is."

"Where? How?" I tightened my grip on my phone.

"Someone called in about a disturbance near the lake a few minutes ago. They said it sounded like a woman was screaming," he replied. I didn't need to hear anymore than that. Because unbeknownst to Christian, I was also going to the scene. Whether he liked it or not.