A leaf fell from a tree on a hill and was carried by the breeze into a nearby neighborhood. The leaf floated past suburban homes, cars, and electrical poles. It passed small stores set just outside people’s homes, and went through a colorful playground full of kids who paid no attention to the day’s heat. It meandered through a grassy park, with trees lining its perimeter and park goers taking refuge in the shade of those trees. Finally, the breeze carried it down a street called Xavier Street. As the leaf did somersaults in the breeze, its journey finally ended on the windowsill of a home two stories high. Like the house neighboring it, there were signs of aging on the house’s exterior, its creamy color looking faded and small cracks appearing in the pillars framing the oaken front door. However, the room in front of the leaf showed no signs of age.

              The room was a cool shade of blue. Posters of various pop groups were plastered on the walls. A small flat screen TV, situated upon an onyx stand across from a small bed, had just been turned off, and the two inhabitants, a boy and a girl, turned to discussing what they had just finished watching. “So, what’d you think of that case?” the girl, Anna Léon, inquired.

            “Death in the Depths?” the boy, John San Miguel, asked in response. “I thought that it was one of the best episodes of Bacharu Tantei Toshiro’s second season! For a second there, I thought Toshiro would get kidnapped by the culprit after he broke the culprit’s alibi. It’s a good thing Mizuki came when she did.”

            Before Anna could respond, there was a series of loud bangs on her front door, followed by the sound of the front door being kicked open. Startled, John and Anna got to their feet and moved towards Anna’s doorway, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever had occurred.

            “LÉON!” a voice yelled. To John, it sounded like a madman, filled with insanity and desperation. “LÉON!” he repeated. “I KNOW THIS IS WHERE YOU LIVE! I KNOW YOU ARE HERE! SHOW YOURSELF!”

            John and Anna looked at each other, and then nodded in silent agreement. They crouched and stuck to the walls, then crept towards the stairs. As they reached a corner, they peeked around it and saw that a man stood by the doorway. He seemed like he could be an accountant or a businessman; however, he was unshaven, sporting a 5 o’clock shadow and disheveled hair. Furthermore, the top few buttons of his collared shirt were open, and his red tie hung loosely on his shoulder. His khaki slacks looked dirty, and his black formal shoes looked worn. The sleeves were rolled up, but were rolled up roughly and, as Wolfe could guess, have been rolled up repeatedly.

“LÉON!” the man shouted again, his eyes wild and his voice booming. “GET OVER HERE! DON’T MAKE ME FIND YOU!”
            “John, Anna, let me handle him,” a voice from behind the two teenagers said calmly.
            “Dad!” Anna whispered in surprise.
            “Inspector Noel!” John added quietly.
            “He’s no one you should worry about,” Inspector Noel said. “Just go back to Anna’s room.” Having said thus, he proceeded down the stairs and said, “Mr. Legaspi, what are you doing here?”
            “WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER?” Mr. Legaspi demanded. “YOU SAID YOU WOULD FIND HER BY NOW!”
            “If we could step outside to discuss this more, Mr. Legaspi,” Inspector Noel said. The two men proceeded out of the open door, and Wolfe and Anna returned to Anna’s room.
            “So that’s Mr. Legaspi…” Anna wondered.
            “Who’s Mr. Legaspi?” John asked her, returning to sitting up against Anna’s bed.
            “A wealthy lawyer,” Anna replied, sitting on her bed.
            “That doesn’t explain why he just burst into your living room like a madman,” John said.
            “Well, he claims his daughter was kidnapped,” Anna explained. “He went to the RCPD station a few days ago, asking for the top RCPD inspector to take on his case. Since your dad was out of town, my dad took on the case instead. Since then, he keeps on bothering my dad, asking for news of his daughter.”
            “I see…” John said. “Has your dad made any breakthroughs in the case?”
            “If he has, he hasn’t told me,” Anna replied, shrugging her shoulders.
            They were silent for a few minutes then, before resuming activities to try and get their minds off of the interruption. After some quick deliberation, they had decided on watching another episode of their favorite show: however, for reasons John could not identify, he had a feeling of foreboding. He had always been a bit of a worrywart, but the appearance of the desperate man held a different air about it- a certain sense of danger. While his friend got the next episode ready on her TV’s DVR, John hoped that whatever ill sense he was feeling was just that- a bad feeling, and nothing more.

-X-

            The following day, the sun rose over the rooftops of Xavier Street as the birds began to herald the coming of dawn. Beside the Léon residence, within 221 Xavier Street, John San Miguel took a seat in his dining room. His semi-spiky jet black hair was still a mess, and he was only dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants. As he let out a yawn, he opened his eyes to see, to his immense surprise, his father sitting at the head of the table, dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit, drinking coffee out of a mug and reading out of a manila folder.
            “Dad! When did you get back?” John asked him, beginning to truly wake up.
            “A few minutes ago,” his father, Alex, replied. “I finished that business over at Barangay Illuminados late last night, and just made it back here as your mother was waking up.”
            “So you closed the case then?” John asked eagerly.
            “In a matter of speaking, yes,” Alex replied calmly.
            “Well? How was it?”
            “Um…”
            Before Alex could continue, an urgent knock came from their front door. Excusing himself, Alex got up from his seat, left the dining room, and went to the front door, opening it. John, curious as to who would be giving them a house call so early in the morning, strained his ears to listen for his father’s voice, and hopefully that of the visitor.
            “Oh, Noel! Why are you giving us a house call so early in the morning, old friend?” John heard his father ask.
            “Alex, I need you to come to my house… now,” John barely heard Noel Léon reply.
            “Why? Wait… what’s happened?”
            “Just come… please. And then advise me on whether or not we should tell the Unit.”
            “Alright, just give me just one second. But could you at least tell me what’s happened?”
            John couldn’t hear the next few words that were exchanged. However, a few minutes later, Alex strode back into the kitchen. He whispered something into the ear of his wife, who was in the middle of making breakfast, and then said to John, “John, I’ll have to tell you the tale another time. I’ve got some important business to conduct with Noel. You know… RCPD inspector stuff.”
            “Oh yeah… sure,” John said, disappointment on his face.
            “Sorry I’ve got to leave so soon. This shouldn’t take long though. I’ll see you all later.”
            Alex gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and then left the room. John heard the front door close shut. Now confused as to why Inspector Noel visited them so early, and why he had asked his father to go to their house next door so early, John asked his mother, “Hey mom… do you know what’s going on?”
            “What do you mean?” Rose San Miguel answered her son.
            “Well, Inspector Noel doesn’t come to our house this early unless something big is going on. And dad left really quickly. I didn’t hear what Inspector Noel told dad, but I figure it must be important if it made Inspector Noel come to our house so early and make dad go with him. So, do you know what’s happening at Inspector Noel’s house?”
            John’s mother contemplated for a few minutes what she should say. Finally, after some period of deliberation, she chose her words carefully, and slowly said, “John… it’s best if you don’t know what happened. You might like to hear your dad’s cases, but this is one of those cases you don’t want to know.”
            His curiosity only increased by his mother’s refusal to tell him what had occurred. John pressed on, “C’mon mom. Please tell me what happened. I need to know.”
            “You don’t need to know,” his mother censured.
            “Please mom. Tell me!” John asked one last time.
            His mother gave him one long look, let out a sigh, then turned around to face the stove. “Anna is missing,” she gravely pronounced. “She was most likely kidnapped.”

-X-

            John sat alone in his room, in such deep shock that his brain refused to function. His next-door neighbor for his entire life was gone. One of his best friends was missing, probably kidnapped. How is a twelve year old supposed to think in this kind of situation?
            He never took crimes or cases too seriously. Even when his dad would return from work, exhausted to the point of just passing out, sickened by the types of injustices humans were capable of inflicting on others, John painted them in a dreamy sort of way. He was young- and therefore open to different futures- but one of the futures he saw himself in was that of a police detective, just like his father. He would imagine himself chasing a criminal down a deep alley, with his partner by his side, yelling at the culprit to stop. He would imagine himself making headlines and getting interviewed; attaining promotion after promotion; garnering fame and fortune. He would be loved by his friends and neighbors and become the pride of his family and his city, consulted by officers in other police departments for their own tough cases. He would be heralded as Rizal City’s greatest detective.
            But now the grim realities of crime had hit home. His friend had been kidnapped. Her current whereabouts were unknown. She might be in danger. And he could do nothing.
            John stared at the wall across from his bed. He felt helpless. He wasn’t the victim, but he still felt helpless. He lived only a few steps away, and he couldn’t have prevented Anna’s kidnapping. Though he knew he was only twelve- and thus what could really be expected of him, especially in a kidnapping that had likely occurred in the middle of the night?- John still felt like he should have been able to have done something to ensure that his friend was safe. He couldn’t do a single thing to protect those whom he loved; what kind of best friend was that?
            As he stared, there was a knock on his door. He made no movement to suggest he would open the door, nor did he make a sound to respond to the knock. He simply kept on staring at the wall. The door opened, and two figures entered the room. One was a boy with short, blonde hair, and who was taller than the girl who entered. The girl had long, dark hair, and bangs that could cover her eyes. Both were dressed in summer wear, and both looked very concerned.
            “John? Are you ok?” the girl asked.
    “We heard about what happened,” the boy said. “Or, at least, Caitlin did, and she told me.”
            “Russell suggested that we should visit you,” Caitlin continued.
            “How did you hear about what happened?” John asked her after some time.
            “My mom heard about it from your mom,” she replied.
            “Oh.”
            Silence settled upon the scene. Russell and Caitlin remained standing; John remained staring at the wall. Russell and Caitlin wanted to help their friend; however, they weren’t sure how they could. Like John, they were also shocked as to what had occurred. They kept their composure through their turbulent thoughts, but they were also at a loss for words.
            After a while, John muttered, “Why? Why couldn’t I do anything?”
            John began looking down at his hands, as though he was searching for an answer in his palms. Russell and Caitlin looked at him, pity enveloping them.
            “John, it wasn’t your fault,” Caitlin said.
            “There was nothing you could do-” Russell began.
            “That’s exactly it!” John suddenly yelled. His sudden burst of anger startled his friends. “I live right next door! I’ve been her friend for years! I should have been able to do something! I should have!”
            He got up and started pacing. “Every night I can see her through my window! I should have noticed something! Why didn’t I? Why?”
            He stopped pacing, his back towards Russell and Caitlin. “She’s one of my best friends… and I couldn’t do anything…”
            Suddenly, he roared out in pain and punched the wall. Blood began trickling down his fist a few seconds after impact.
            “John…” Caitlin whispered.
            “Bro…” Russell said.
            “Nothing…” John sobbed, a tear falling from his eyes to the floor.
            “John,” the voice of his father announced from the doorway. “I’ve got some news.”
            John and his friends turned to look at his father standing in the hallway.
            “What is it dad?” John asked his father.
            “When Noel and I arrived at RCPD headquarters this morning, we found a ransom note from Mr. Legaspi. He said that he would continue to hold Anna hostage in his undisclosed location until we found his missing daughter. Unfortunately, we believe he might intend to harm Anna, since he gave us a week to find his daughter.
            “With the revelation of the ransom note, Noel has decided to prioritize finding Mr. Legaspi’s missing daughter. He reasons that finding her is the key to saving Anna. I’ve decided to back him up. Between the two of us, we should find the missing girl in a few days.”
            Inspector Alex walked up to his son then and placed a hand on his head.
            “Don’t worry, John. I know how much you care about Anna. We’ll find the girl, and we’ll save Anna. I promise.”
            He turned to leave then, swiftly walking out of John’s room. As the three friends stood there, they heard the front door close, followed by the sounds of an engine starting and tires screeching.
            John clenched his fist, still pressed against the wall.
            “I’m going to find her,” John announced, gritting his teeth. Russell and Caitlin turned to look at him.
            “What do you mean?” Russell said, noting the fire in John’s eyes.
            “While my father and Inspector Noel chase down Mr. Legaspi’s daughter, I’m going to find Anna,” John explained.
            “But how are you going to do that?” Caitlin asked with skepticism in her voice.
            “Simple, Kat,” John said. Suddenly, he pushed both of them out of his room and slammed the door shut, locking it. Russell and Caitlin heard noises within his room for a few minutes, before John opened the door once more. He was now dressed in a dark t-shirt, jeans, a jacket with the design of the Philippine flag, fingerless gloves, and a digital wristwatch on his right arm. He quickly walked down the stairs and passed his living room, stopping just in front of his front door. He put on his sneakers, and then turned around to face his friends, who had followed him. “I’m going to the crime scene, and I’ll work my way from there.”
            Russell and Caitlin stood there, slightly confused, while John left the house. He walked over to the Léon residence, and stopped before the front door that he had entered so many times in his childhood, almost as frequently as his own front door. He took a deep breath, and then reached into his pocket. He took out a small silver key, a spare that Anna had given him years prior. He inserted it into the lock, turned the tumbler, and opened the front door, intent on beginning his own investigation.
            He proceeded through the house’s interior, which was identical to his own, albeit mirrored. He strode up the steps and paused outside Anna’s room. He scanned the doorframe of the room and the door itself, hoping to find something, a clue of some sort, some piece of evidence that his dad always said was important to find in a crime scene. When he found none, he let out a sigh of disappointment, before slowly continuing to Anna’s bedroom.
            The bedroom was mostly the same as it was when John had visited the previous day. However, there were signs of a struggle, as the bed sheets were tussled and wrinkled. John looked over the entire bedroom, analyzing the nooks and crannies of the room before finally turning his attention to the bed itself. Before touching the bed, he carefully examined it, scrutinizing its every detail, as he would imagine his father would have done. Then, he searched the blankets and pillows. Hidden within one of the pillowcases, John found a dirty and wrinkled rag. When he felt the rag, it was mostly dry, though some areas still felt slightly damp. Curious, he sniffed it quickly, and was overcome with a slight fainting sensation. Recognizing what was on the rag, he quickly thrust it from his face, throwing it back on the bed.
            After a few minutes, while taking caution not to smell the rag, John looked it over again, noting the stains. When he was done, he left the rag on the bed, exited the room, and took out his phone. He dialed a number, and after a few minutes, a voice from the other end said, “Hello, this is Officer Takato of the RCPD. Who is this?”
            “Officer Takato, it’s me, John San Miguel,” John replied, walking down the stairs.
            “Ah, John! Do you need help with anything? Has your dad given you some old case again?”
            “No… actually, I need a favor.”
            “You sound serious. What do you need?”
            “Can you give me the address of Mr. Adrian Legaspi? The wealthy lawyer?”
            “Legaspi… hey, this wouldn’t be connected to what happened to Noel’s girl, would it?” When John didn’t respond, Officer Takato said, “John, look, I know I’m not your father, but it would be better if you just wait for your dad and Inspector Noel to find her. I’m sure-”
            “Please Officer Takato. I need to find her.”
            There was silence for a few minutes. John walked back to his house, opening the front door and finding that Russell and Caitlin had already left. He kept pacing, entering and leaving one room after the other, before finally Officer Takato said, “Adrian Legaspi. He lives on 18 Manor Lane, in the Manorville district. Fastest route would be through the Educational district, then the Central District, then finally Manorville. Do you need a ride?”
            “Nah, I’ll take my bike,” John replied, hustling to his garage.
            “Alright. Be careful. I’m not sure what you intend to find at Mr. Legaspi’s home, but you should still be careful.”
            “Thanks Officer Takato. One more thing though: Where did Mr. Legaspi work?”
            There was silence for a few more minutes as Officer Takato conducted his search. Finally, Officer Takato said, “He operated a growing firm in the Central District. It’s called ‘Legaspi Legal.’ It’s on the corner of Madison Avenue and Mayflower Drive, right across from the RCPD 2nd Police Precinct.”
            “Alright, thanks Officer Takato.”
            He ended the call and placed his phone in his pocket. He pressed a button on the garage wall, got on a mountain bike, and pedaled down to the edge of the driveway. He got off, pressed another button outside the garage, thereby closing the wall, then got back on his bike and pedaled down the street at a furious pace. He passed by street after street in the residential district known as Rizal Grove, intent on entering the city proper: Rizal City. More importantly, he was more interested in what lay beyond that: the gated off residential district of the rich, home only to a select few of Rizal City, known as Manorville.

 -X-

            “So, helping my son again, Takato?” Inspector Alex asked Officer Takato as he strode up to him, two cups of coffee in his hand.
            “Ah… about that, Alex…” Officer Takato began.
            “Relax. I know why he’s acting this way,” Inspector Alex remarked. His cold eyes stared out the window of the gray RCPD headquarters in Rizal Grove. He saw his son pass by on his mountain bike, pedaling with vigor. “He might not admit it, but he’s got feelings for Noel’s daughter that go beyond friendship.”
            “How are you sure of that, Alex?” Officer Takato asked.
            “Because I did something similar after I first met Rose,” Inspector Alex replied. “She got into trouble with some bullies at UST, and after they took her away to do with as they pleased, I tracked them down and rescued her. I had feelings for her then that, I believe, John has for Anna. If he’s like me though, he won’t admit that.”
            “And your son is an awful lot like you, isn’t he?” Officer Takato remarked.
            “He is,” Inspector Alex replied. He turned around and placed one of the coffee cups on Officer Takato’s desk, then ran his hair over with his free hand. “Here, Takato, drink up.”
            As Officer Takato accepted the cup, he asked, “Why are you getting me coffee?”
            “Because I think you’ll need the energy,” Inspector Alex. “John will work tirelessly until he finds Anna. I can’t help him there, because I have to help Noel with finding Legaspi’s daughter. However, you can. If he calls, please help him. And if he gets into trouble, then call me.”
            “Don’t worry Alex. I’ll help him out,” Officer Takato promised.
            “Thanks. Now I better get back to helping Noel. We might have narrowed down the list of hiding spots Legaspi’s daughter could have hidden in…”

-X-                                                    

            “Darn it!” John shouted with frustration. He paced within the walls of 18 Manor Lane, as the sun faded in the distance, its light receding within the barren halls of the once-splendid mansion. After bypassing the gates of Manorville, using a secret entrance he and his friends had found years prior, he had made his way to the Legaspi Mansion, only to find its front door unlocked, and its interior empty. Slightly disappointed at not having anyone to ask questions to, he quickly went through each and every room, but found that the house was truly empty, and that no clue remained for him.
            When he decided that he had scouted the entire inside of Legaspi Manor, he canvassed the area around it. He walked through the crisp grass, maintained no doubt by a squadron of hired help who lived nearby. Suddenly realizing that he might have a source of information, he ran past an adjoining storage house and found a small wooden house, no doubt the home of the hired help for the Legaspi family. He knocked on the door, but after three knocks the front door swung open, and to John’s horror it was also empty. He searched the house’s interior, but found nothing that he could use.
            Crestfallen, John returned to the inside of Legaspi Manor, hoping to search it one last time. He moved through room after room, until he finally ended up in the master bedroom. Within the master bedroom were a large bed covered in white sheets, a fireplace, a wall mounted flat screen TV, a few oak desks with fine amounts of dusk, and a single picture frame on top of the fireplace’s mantel. Curious, John approached the picture frame. He had not noticed it earlier as he had been quickly proceeding through the rooms of the mansion, but he noticed the glint of the golden frame as the sunlight struck it. It was positioned so that the picture housed within lay on the bottom. John picked it up and looked within the photograph.
            Contained within the photo was a younger-looking Adrian Legaspi. He wasn’t dressed in the suit and tie of a budding lawyer: rather, he was dressed in a white cap, loose t-shirt, and grey slacks, as if he was a typical serviceman. He also saw a gas station, though not one John had seen within Rizal City.
            John suddenly thought of an idea. He took out his phone, dialed a number, and heard Officer Takato quickly reply, “John? How goes it?”
            “Officer Takato, has Mr. Legaspi ever worked in a gas station?” John asked, still looking at the photo. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see what the letters on top of the gas station were, as the photo had cropped them out.
            “Actually, for a time, he did work in what is now an abandoned gas station on the outskirts of Rizal Grove,” Officer Takato commented. “Why do you ask?”
            “Officer Takato, I might have just found a lead as to where Mr. Legaspi is keeping Anna,” John replied. “Do you know where specifically the gas station is?”
            “It’s on the road out of Rizal Grove, on the way to Lucena,” Officer Takato replied.
            “Thanks. I’ll head there right now. I’ll call if I can confirm that. Thanks for the help Officer Takato!”
            John hung up before Officer Takato could respond. With a determined smile, John exited the house, and made his way to the abandoned gas station.

-X-

                “There it is,” John muttered. He got off his mountain bike and walked it off to a few trees, before standing it up against the bark of one, with its front wheel facing the road leading to Rizal Grove in case he needed a quick escape. As he looked from a distance, he took note of every detail he could think of, paying special note to look for Mr. Legaspi or Anna Léon. Though darkness had set in, the lights of the gas station’s exterior gave enough illumination for John’s task. When he found the way to be clear, John silently moved amongst the trees, taking a serpentine path around the gas station, until he was behind the gas station itself.
                Squinting in the darkness from his hiding spot among the trees, John noticed the outline of a back door. He waited a few minutes for his eyes to better adjust to the darkness, before quietly sneaking up to the side of the door. He made sure that no one had seen him, before trying to open the door with as little noise as he could possibly make. He turned the knob and slowly opened it partially, sneaking inside and closing the door silently as well.
                John let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the gas station. Like the ones within Rizal City, there wasn’t much to the interior. He was able to pick out the outlines of store shelves to his right in addition to a drink dispenser, as he couldn’t find any light emanating from the drink dispenser. To his left were the counter and the staff room. He climbed over the counter and landed in the middle of the staff’s side of the counter, where a cash register lay just to his right. He turned around to make sure he wasn’t missing something, and tumbled back in shock, struggling not to scream. In front of him, bound and gagged, was Anna Léon.
             John crept up to her and tapped her a few times on the head. He was afraid that Mr. Legaspi had done something to her, and so he poked her with increasing speed, trying to arouse her from her current state. Finally, after a few especially hard pokes, her eyes began to twitch, and then slowly open.
            “Anna! You’re okay!” John whispered. He took out his phone and dialed a number. While he waited, he used his other hand to remove Anna’s gag.
            “John? Is that you?” Anna quietly whispered.
            “Yeah, it’s me,” John whispered back. “I came to rescue you. Darn, c’mon Officer Takato, pick up!”
            “But why?” Anna asked, slightly groggy. “Where’s my dad? And your dad? Where’s the police?”
            “If Officer Takato can pick up, then on their way,” John responded. “And if he doesn’t, then I’m getting you out of here myself.”
            “Have you knocked out Mr. Legaspi? He’s supposed to be somewhere here,” Anna commented.
            “I haven’t encountered him yet. I think he’s gone,” John muttered. “And besides that, even if he was here, I’d still get you out of here.”
            “But why are you risking yourself like this? You’re not a police officer. You’re not even thirteen!”
            “Maybe not, but I am your best friend. And I can’t stand the thought of a world where you weren’t by me. Now hopefully, Officer Takato will finally pick up…”
            Finally, a voice from the other end said, “John? Are you at the gas station?”
            “Yes!” John excitedly whispered. “I’ve just found Anna! We’re about to esca-”
            Suddenly, there was a blow to the back of John’s head. Anna’s eyes widened with terror as John suddenly groaned and blacked out. His phone fell out of his right hand, and a man picked up the phone.
            “Hello? Hello? John? Can you hear me?” came Officer Takato’s voice from the other end.
            “This is the RCPD, right?” the man asked, his voice showing restraint.
            “Yes,” Officer Takato responded gravely. “Who is this?”
            “Have you found my daughter?” the man asked.
            “Mr. Legaspi, we have the best of-”
            “Bring Noel here in ten minutes. If I don’t have him in front of me, I kill the boy. And if I don’t like the answer, I’ll kill the girl too.”
            The man dropped the cell phone, and then crushed it with his foot before he could hear Officer Takato’s response.

-X-

            John groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. As he was coming to, he felt something liquid slide down the side of his face and drip down his cheeks. He was puzzled at first, until he realized, with a pang of pain, that he was injured and bleeding out of his temple.
            He tried to move his limbs, but found that his arms and feet were bound. He also realized that he was kneeling on the ground, in the middle of the road. He thought for a second that he might be alone. However, he was proven wrong when, with a sudden jerk, his head was tilted back and he saw the imposing sight of Adrian Legaspi standing behind him.
            “So you’re awake, huh?” Mr. Legaspi asked. “I thought you would’ve been out cold still.”
            “Guess when you’re dad’s a police inspector, you stay out shorter,” John commented with a painful chuckle.
            “Ha ha,” Mr. Legaspi mocked. “Now, before I execute you, why don’t you tell me how you found me?”
            “Why don’t you tell me why you’ll kill me first?” John asked with defiance.
            “What, aren’t you afraid of dying?” Mr. Legaspi asked, surprised at John fighting back.
            “Normally, I would be,” John replied. “But you know what? You kidnapped one of my best friends, locked her up in that gas station for God knows how long, and could have done anything to her. Meanwhile, I spent my entire day looking for her, scouring Rizal City for clues as to where you could have hidden her. So normally, I would be afraid. But today, I’m just too riled up to be afraid. Today, I’m just too angry.”
            “Hah, you’ve got fight, kid,” Mr. Legaspi said. “My girl had fight, too. No matter what I did for her, my little girl always said she didn’t need it. When I asked her to do things, my little princess would say no. It would take convincing, but she would eventually do it after a fight. She took after her mother, my little angel. However, ever since Nora died, I’ve been left alone to raise my little sweet pea. It’s worth it though. And soon, I’ll be reunited with her… just as soon as I’m done with you.”
            “You do realize that by killing me, you’re getting yourself a one-way ticket to the slammer, right?” John retorted. “You’ll be reunited with your daughter for maybe five seconds, before a task force of police officers take you down and send you off to jail.”
            “Not likely,” Mr. Legaspi said. “I still have your friend to use as a hostage. Once my little girl is in my arms again, I’ll use your friend as leverage to get us out of this city, then kill her and dump her body in the next one. I just want my little girl back.”
            “Mr. Legaspi, you’ve gone insane,” John commented with a snarl.
            “Perhaps, but a father’s love will do that,” Mr. Legaspi retorted.
            “No. Not a father’s love; merely, the love of an insane maniac,” John replied.
            Mr. Legaspi snarled and dealt a blow to the side of John’s head with the butt of his revolver. John hit the asphalt and the world went fuzzy for a few seconds. Before he nearly blacked out once more, he saw the bright lights of the RCPD squad cars approaching them. Mr. Legaspi placed him upright as the squad cars slowed to a stop in front of them.
            From out of one of the squad cars emerged Inspector Noel Léon. “Mr. Legaspi!” Inspector Noel yelled. “Put the gun down so that we can talk!”
            “There’s nothing to talk about!” Mr. Legaspi yelled back. He placed the barrel of his revolver against John’s temple, before yelling back, “So where’s my daughter, Noel?”
            “I’ll tell you if you put the gun down!” Inspector Noel responded.
            “Five!” Mr. Legaspi counted.
            “You don’t want to do this!” Inspector Noel pleaded.
            “Four!” Mr. Legaspi continued.
            “Don’t do this!”
            “Three!”
            “I’ll tell you, just please put the gun down!”
            “Two!”
            “Please, Mr. Legaspi!”
            “One!”
            John closed his eyes, fear finally striking him as the realization of what was about to occur hit both his mind and his heart. He tried to ready himself for the heat of the barrel, the penetration of the bullet, and the end… of everything.
            “Stop!” a new voice yelled.
            John opened his eyes to see a teenage girl emerge from out of the squad cars. She was dressed in summer wear, and John estimated her age to be around eighteen. Moving his body, he turned around to see Mr. Legaspi’s shocked face.
            “Angel?” Mr. Legaspi gasped. “Baby, is that you?”
            “Yes, dad, it is,” Mr. Legaspi’s daughter replied.
            “Where? Where did you find her Noel?” Mr. Legaspi demanded.
            “I found her a few hours ago,” Inspector Noel responded. “She had moved in with her boyfriend, over at the older side of Rizal Grove.”
            “But why?” Mr. Legaspi stammered.
            “To escape you!” his daughter replied. “Ever since mom died, you’ve been smothering me! Always treating me like I was six! I couldn’t take it! I needed to get away from you, so I left and moved on over to Jack’s!”
            He was silent for a moment. Then, he asked, with a blankness in his voice, “Is that so?”
            “Yes,” his daughter admitted. “But when I heard you were doing this…”
            “No, no, it’s alright,” Mr. Legaspi said. “Perhaps I have been smothering you since your mom died. But if you feel that strongly, then I suppose… I suppose you won’t have to worry about that much longer.”
            Mr. Legaspi ceased aiming at John’s temple. Instead, he brought the revolver to his own temple, to the horrified expressions of the police and his daughter.
            “Mr. Legaspi, please, put the gun down!” Inspector Noel pleaded.
            “Dad, please!” Mr. Legaspi’s daughter said.
            “I’m sorry, baby doll,” Mr. Legaspi said. “For everything.”
            As he was about to pull the trigger, John saw a hand grab onto his arm and disarm him, knocking the revolver to the ground. Then, in rapid succession, Mr. Legaspi was thrown down onto the ground by a strong judo flip.
            “You’re not getting away like some coward, Legaspi,” John’s father, Inspector Alex, snarled. “You’re going to pay for your crimes like all criminals should.” He took out a pair of handcuffs and placed them on Mr. Legaspi, with his hands behind his back, saying, “Adrian Legaspi, you are under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder. Ikaw ay may karapatang manahimik. Ang iyong mga sasabihin ay maaaring gamitin bilang patunay laban sa iyo sa korte…”

-X-

            A short time later, John was covered up in a shock blanket, his head bandaged due to his wound. He had finished talking to his father, where he was commended for his bravery and detective skill, and berated for his stupidity in charging ahead without backup. When his father departed to discuss some things with Inspector Noel, John had spotted Anna sitting by herself on the hood of one of the squad cars, with a shock blanket wrapped around her as well. John, still concerned for her, walked on over and stood next to her.
            “Hey Anna, are you alright?” John asked.
            “I don’t know,” Anna replied. “It’s not everyday you get kidnapped, right?”
            “I guess,” John said, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s a good thing your dad came when he did,” Anna said. “After Mr. Legaspi dragged you outside, your dad crept in the way you came and untied me. He then told me to keep quiet, and he waited for a moment to take advantage of.”
            “Yeah, that was a good thing,” John agreed. “He told me that as soon as I mentioned the gas station to Officer Takato, he went here to lie in wait while Inspector Noel went to fetch Mr. Legaspi’s daughter, just in case my dad couldn’t surprise Mr. Legaspi.”
            “By the way, how did you find me?” Anna asked.
            “When I searched your room, I found a rag inside one of your pillowcases,” John explained. When I smelled it, I was almost knocked out. I guess that the chemical I smelled was chloroform, which would explain how you were knocked out. However, I also found a few stains on the rag. I couldn’t explain them at the time, but I think they were gasoline stains.
            “When I investigated Mr. Legaspi’s manor in Manorville, I found a picture frame of him working in a gas station. That’s how I guessed the stains on the rag I found were gasoline stains. With that evidence, and the location of the gas station I obtained from Officer Takato, I rushed on over here, hoping that he had hidden you here so that I could get you out.”
            “Well, great job, John,” Anna responded. There was silence for a time, and then she asked, “Were you afraid?”
            “What do you mean?” John asked.
            “Were you afraid that he would kill you?” Anna reiterated.
            John pondered her question over for a few seconds. Then, he replied, “At first, I wasn’t. I was too mad at him to be afraid, and I guess so delusional that I believed I would get out of my situation unscathed, like the hero always does. However, when he began that countdown… I suddenly grew afraid. I grew afraid because I just realized what I would be missing. Because I just realized who I would be missing.”
            “And that would be?” Anna asked.
            “I already told you, didn’t I?” John responded. “The reason I came here was to save one of my best friends. I just couldn’t imagine a world where you weren’t beside me. That’s why I grew afraid.”
            “Aw,” Anna said.
            “Hey,” John chuckled back, nudging her with his elbow.
            “Still, that’s sweet of you to say, John,” Anna replied.
            “Well, what’s true is true,” John commented.
            They sat in silence for a while, and then Anna gave John a kiss on the cheek. He looked at her, slightly red, and asked, “Anna, what was…?”
            “I never thanked you properly,” Anna responded, slightly red as well.
            “Oh,” John said, looking back up at the sky.
            Silence once more engulfed them. Finally, as the RCPD wrapped up at their crime scene, John said, “You know what? Despite everything that just happened today… I think I want to become a detective like my dad.”
            “Why?” Anna asked him.   
            “Let’s just say that what happened to us today… I never want to happen to anyone else. And if it does, then I want to make sure I can help bring justice to whoever is at fault.”
            “Hm… you’ve got a point there, John,” Anna conceded. “Maybe I should follow my dad in his footsteps too.”
            “If you want to,” John commented. “But who knows? Maybe someday, I will be able to fulfill my father’s legacy. Maybe someday, I will be a great detective too…”
            And so, after one last look at the moonlit sky, John and Anna caught a ride back with the RCPD to Rizal Grove. And John’s thoughts were set with what the future could hold for him.

            "Oh… Oh cry… Oh chris…" muttered John San Miguel repeatedly. "Oh Ch-"
            "Oh Christmas tree!" yelled a boy to John’s right, pointing at the black chalkboard where the words OAK REESE MAST WE were written in bright red chalk. The class groaned in unison as John’s Biology teacher smiled.
            "Carlos got it," she announced.
            "Great, I never win at these mad gabs…" John mumbled.
            "Cheer up, John. There’s always tomorrow’s mad gab," his friend, Mary Gold, said from her seat a few desks ahead of his.
            "Assuming Carlos doesn’t get it, I suppose," John countered. He rested his chin on his arms as he waited for the class period to end. He yawned and appeared absolutely tired, his eyes droopy and his words coming in slow bursts, despite the fact that it was only the middle of the school day.
            When the bell did ring, signifying the end of the class period, John packed up his things and slowly proceeded out of the classroom, Mary behind him.
            "John, why are you so tired?" Mary asked him as they walked down the main hallway of Rizal Academy’s second floor.
            "I could explain it now, but it’s long, and I need to get to class," John responded, stifling another yawn. "I’ll just tell you after school. See ya later,"
            "Bye," Mary said as she took an adjoining staircase. John raised a hand, then continued making his way down the main hallway.
            A few hours later, John ran down a basement hallway, filled with energy. It was the end of the day, and John, having already visited his locker, had all the things he needed for the weekend in his backpack, which was casually slung over his right shoulder. When he had spotted Mary and her twin sister, Abigail, still at their lockers, he ran over to them and stopped at the wall opposite theirs, fixing his uniform polo’s collar.
            "Hey guys, how’s your day been?" John blurted out between pants.
            "John, did you just run here from your locker?" Abigail asked, taking a look at him before returning her attention to her locker.
            "Yup. Just finished with mine. Are you two nearly done?" John quickly said.
            "Nearly," Mary responded slowly. "What happened to you? You were really tired a few hours ago in Bio."
            "Well, in between then and now, I may have drunk… I’m not sure. I think it was three cans of soda," John responded, tapping his foot impatiently.
            "Three?" Mary and Abigail asked, stopping what they were doing to take a questioning look at him.
            "Yeah, three," John responded, now tapping his hand on his right leg, in rhythm with his foot. "Maybe four."
            "Wow, that’s unhealthy," Mary replied, turning her attention back to her locker.
            "Maybe," John conceded. "Oh yeah, would you two like to hang out with me at Rizal City’s entertainment district? It’s Friday, and I’m in the mood for some laser tag."
            "Sure," Abigail said. The Gold twins finished getting the books they would need for the weekend, closed their lockers, and departed with John for the school exits on the main floor. On their way, they encountered Caitlin Aquino. After John repeated the same offer, she joined the three as they exited the school building, emerging into a bright, sunny day.
            As they began thinking about walking all the way from Rizal Academy in the Educational District all the way to the Entertainment District all the way across the city, Caitlin stopped John and the Gold twins. She took out her smart phone and dialed a number. After she had conversed with the person on the other line, she hung up and notified her friends that her family's driver and limo would be arriving shortly to bring them to their destination.
            The group waited patiently, and softly cheered when a black limousine entered the Rizal Academy's parking lot. They entered the limo, greeted the driver, and Caitlin gave the driver instructions to bring them to Rizal City’s Entertainment District. The driver acknowledged the directions, and proceeded out of the driveway while the four sophomores began relaxing in their seats.
            As they passed by pedestrians and other cars in fine style, John said, "Oh yeah, I still have to explain why I was so tired, don’t I?"
            "Well, at this point…" Mary began.
            "It all started a year ago," John interjected dramatically. "You all should know that story by now."
            "What story?" the girls asked simultaneously.
            "When Anna was kidnapped," John replied questioningly.
            "Oh yeah, that-" Caitlin said.
            "When Anna was kidnapped a year ago, I vowed that I would continue my father’s legacy, and become a great detective. Ever since then, my dad has decided to train me so that I can follow in his footsteps by honing skills necessary for a detective. He’s challenged me to observe my surroundings and memorize them, solve old cases with bizarre tricks, and the like. And although I am growing in skill, the training is really energy draining. I haven’t had a break yet."
            "Wait, what about the last summer, the summer after our freshman year…?" Caitlin asked.
            John shook his head. "I went to Chicago that summer, and I STILL had to train. So, after a year without a break, I’m taking one. I’d tell my dad, but knowing him, he's probably already deduced I would do something like this."
            The conversation then drifted to their weekend plans, and a few minutes later, they had arrived at the laser tag arena. The four teenagers exited the limo, leaving their belongings within the vehicle with Caitlin’s driver, and proceeded to the laser tag arena in Rizal City’s entertainment district.
            Since it was still the daytime, the true splendor of the entertainment district was dimmed. Instead of the colorful display of lights and sounds that characterized Rizal City’s most popular district, it was merely a dull assortment of various buildings. The grand mall loomed over the rest of the buildings, which included the likes of fast food chains and Rizal City’s famous "Las Islas" restaurant, in addition to other locations like the go-kart track and the laser tag arena that John and his friends were visiting.
            When the group entered the air conditioned interior, they took a moment to behold the colorful insides of the arena, as well as letting the cool air wash over them, giving them relief from the hot Philippine outdoors. When they had finished, they proceeded straight to the counter, set up three matches, and waited for their games. They spent an hour in the arena, and when they had finished, they decided to unwind in Rizal Grove Park. They waited until Caitlin’s driver picked them up, and then they were driven across Rizal City once more to the Residential District, Rizal Grove.
            When they had reached the park, the twins encountered Russell DuCarte and a few other friends, and decided to hang out with them for a while. As John was about to follow suit, however, Caitlin grabbed onto one of John's arms. John, stopped by her motion, turned to look at Caitlin with a confused expression, before recognizing the look on her face. He searched for an empty park bench, and, having found a suitable bench a few feet away, took Caitlin's hand, brought her to the bench, and sat her down. He sat next to her, and said, in a voice full of concern, "Kat, there's something bothering you, isn't there?"
            "It's nothing, John," Caitlin lied softly.
            "Kat, we've been friends for years. You're practically a sister to me. You just stopped me from joining the others, and I know something is bothering you, so just tell me: what is it?"
            Caitlin considered her next words carefully, deliberating for a few minutes. Finally, she slowly said, "John, I might need some help."
            "With what?" John asked.
            "Well... do you remember my uncle Vinnie?"
            "Vinnie Vicario?" John said. "Hm... I know that he was essentially your estranged uncle, since he rarely interacted with your family. He and his wife had two sons, and years ago, they decided to leave their sons, Juan and Lucas, with your family before they left for America to find their fortune overseas. Since then, you haven't made any contact with them."
            "The problem I have right now is that a few weeks ago, daddy received an e-mail from a supposed 'third son' named Michael, who Uncle Vinnie and his wife had overseas. Since he left Juan and Lucas with us when they were only about 4 and 3, respectively, and since we haven't had contact with them in years, we can't verify whether or not he's telling the truth."
            "Truth? About what?" John inquired.
            "In the e-mail, the son claims that Uncle Vinnie and his wife are dead. He has Uncle Vinnie's will, but it needs to be verified here in the Philippines. When the will is read, he's expecting to receive a share of the inheritance that Uncle Vinnie left for Juan and Lucas."
            "In other words, you're not sure whether he's really a long lost son, or if he's a scam artist," John said, a tone of seriousness entering his voice.
            "Yes," Caitlin responded. "Since we didn't know what to do, we took him in, and he's currently lodging at our home."
            "Give me a sec," John said, taking out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, pressed a button, and waited for a few minutes, before the person on the other end picked up. He conversed for a few minutes, and then ended his call, returning his phone to his pocket. "I just talked to my father, asking for advice," John explained to Caitlin. "He feels I should assist you in this matter, and he gave me an idea as to how I can do that."
            "Really? How?" Caitlin asked in a voice mixed with hope and curiosity.
            "Simple, Kat," John said, raising a finger. "First, though, answer me this: have all the members of the Vicario family, including this supposed 'third son,' ever had blood work done at Rizal Grove General Hospital?"
            "Hm... Uncle Vinnie and his family should have when Juan and Lucas were toddlers," Caitlin began, folding her arms together. "As for the third son... yes, I think he mentioned having some blood work done a few days ago!"
            "Perfect. This is what we'll do: we will go back to your house, and I'll need to get a good look at the three sons, as well as any photos you have of your Uncle Vinnie. The more recent the photos are, the better. I'm not exactly sure what my dad needs them for, but he told me to report to him about it anyway. Aside from that, I might have an idea as to how to crack this cake. If my theory is correct, I'll need something that my mom should be able to deliver..."
            "Does it have anything to do with blood?" Caitlin asked.
            "Perhaps. We'll see," John said, almost more to himself than to Caitlin. "I'll tell the others what we're up to. I'll be back in a sec." John went off by himself for a few minutes, warning his friends of what he would do. After he notified them and they bid John and Caitlin goodbye, John and Caitlin were picked up by Caitlin's driver and returned to Caitlin's home in Rizal Grove.
            The Aquino residence was unlike most homes in Rizal Grove. Whereas the vast majority of houses in Rizal Grove resembled decent suburban homes, the Aquino residence resembled an ostentatious mansion, occupying twice or thrice the amount of land plots a regular Rizal Grove homeowner would have had. It would be more in line with the manors of the Manorville District; however, what made the Aquino residence resonate with their decent, working class neighbors was not the appearance of their home, but rather the attitude of its inhabitants.
            After they had parked within the gated garage of the Aquino residence, John and Caitlin left their belongings within the parked limo. John followed Caitlin as she led the way out of her garage, up a stony pathway, and through a grand double door entrance. As John beheld the interior, he thought about how no matter how many times he had visited Caitlin's home in the past, the charm of Caitlin's home was never lost on him. Though he took note of the ornate sculptures and gilded paintings, what really caught his eye were the simpler things within the home, items that he would expect to find in a decent, suburban Rizal Grove home: an old grandfather clock, a wooden rocking chair, etc. It always reminded him that no matter how affluent the Aquinos were, they were still a simple family at their core.
            Caitlin led John to a hall adjoining that of the main one, and after entering it, the two proceeded to a large cabinet. The wooden cabinet showed signs of age, and there were a few minute scratches on the surface of the glass that allowed John and Caitlin to peer into its contents. Within the cabinet lay a great number of small family photos in beautiful golden and silver frames. Caitlin opened the cabinet, took a few moments to look over the photos, and then picked one from an upper shelf. She brought it closer to herself and John, and said, "This is the most recent photo we have of Uncle Vinnie and his family. This was taken on the day he left Juan and Lucas with us."
            John took the photo from Caitlin. With cold, piercing eyes, he analyzed the photograph. His eyes drifted all over the picture, but they lingered over a few details. When he was satisfied, he handed the photograph back to Caitlin, and she replaced it in the wooden cabinet.
            "Thanks for that, Kat," John said. "Now, can I see your cousins?"
            "Sure. They’ve been apartment hunting lately, but they should be resting in their room today."
            Caitlin led the way down the hallway and up a spiraling staircase. Upon reaching the third floor, she began marching towards a door near the end of the hallway, just before a bend that would join the wing with the main building of the Aquino residence. She stopped outside the door, knocked three times, and said, "Kuya Juan? Kuya Lucas? Are you two in there?"
            "Caitlin! Come in!" came a deep voice from within the room. Caitlin turned the knob and opened the door; however, she stopped short of entering the room itself. John moved up to the doorway, so that he could take a look at the room’s contents.
It was a simple room, unlike Caitlin’s room, which John had seen before. The painting was a calming shade of blue, and the room’s contents weren’t much more than two beds, two desks, a ceiling fan, a small TV, and a door that led, John guessed, to a closet. The two brothers themselves were sitting by their desks, their laptops open. One of them had slicked hair and seemed older than he should be. He wore the outfit of a businessman, save that he was not wearing a suit coat. The other had short hair and a face that looked young, but worn with experience. He also wore business suit pants; however, he wore a simple green t-shirt, unlike his brother. John had presumed that the first brother was Juan Vicario, and that the other brother was Lucas Vicario.
            John analyzed the two brothers. He paid special attention to their faces, scrutinizing every detail, as though he were trying to ingrain the images in his mind. As he stared, the older of the two, who had noticed John, said to Caitlin, "Um… Caitlin? Who’s your friend and what’s he doing?"
            "Oh, him?" Caitlin said. "He’s-"
            “Alright, you got me Kat," John said abruptly. "They do look like the Estevez twins at school."
            "Huh?" the Vicario brothers said.
            "What?" Caitlin asked.
            "Remember when we were talking this morning, and you said that your cousins looked like the Estevez twins?" John lied. Looking straight into her eyes, John's eyes pleaded: Just go along with it.
            "Alright… sure," Caitlin said slowly. John walked away from the doorway, and Caitlin made an apologetic face to her cousins, before closing the door and rejoining John, leaving the Vicario brothers to wonder what had just transpired.
            John was making his way to the stairwell when a man, older than John and slightly younger than the Vicario brothers, walked up to John. He had a carefree smile and a youthful face, evident from the widow's peak in his shaggy brown hair, to the cleft chin just underneath his small, somewhat feminine lips. He was of a muscular build, which made his small Hawaiian shirt and tight jeans seem even smaller.
John, with a stony expression, commented, "Interesting..."
            "Who are you?" the man asked, not hearing John's previous comment.
            "Just a friend of Kat's," John replied innocently, putting on a cheerful smile to mask a newfound seriousness. It visited him only when his mind began rapidly working, sifting through dozens of theories encompassing a multitude of different clues, in an attempt to find a single, logical truth that connected all facets of a case. He had experienced it before under his father's intense training.
            "Oh, you're one of Caitlin's friends, huh?" the man asked.
            "Michael, are you looking for Kuya Juan and Kuya Lucas?" Caitlin asked.
            "Yeah, actually. I've got some mail for them," Michael replied.
            "They're in their room," Caitlin said.
            "Thanks. I'll go give them the mail- maybe that will get them to like me!" Michael commented sarcastically. He gave a quick gesture of a wave goodbye before proceeding past the two teenagers.
            Meanwhile, John took out his phone and dialed a number. As he waited for the other person to answer, he mumbled to himself, "I finally get it dad..." He then engaged in another quick conversation, ended his call, and proceeded to make a second one. When the second person had taken up the call, John engaged in a quick conversation once more. There was a bit of pleading, before a frustrated groan, and a dejected resignation that John would call his father again. After ending the second call, John redialed his father's number and gave a status report. He listened to what his father had to say, and then ended the call.
            During the entire exchange, Caitlin wore an expression of complete confusion. With John having finally concluded his calls, Caitlin asked him, "Um, John? Who were you calling?"
            "Just my dad, Kat," John said with a new edge to his voice. His features seemed to have been transformed: his eyes grew sharp, and his smile became almost wicked. He put a hand to his chin, and ran his other hand through his air, making sure that his hair went outwards instead of downwards into his eyes. His posture shifted, so that the weight was placed onto his hind foot, and his lead foot was extended while he placed his left hand in his pocket and right hand kept on his chin.
            In his mind, theories began to evaporate one after another, the road to the truth gradually straightening itself. He felt that the answer was within his grasp, and that he had a good idea of what that answer was. However, there was one frustrating check: for the crucial evidence to appear, he would need to wait.
            A look of confusion had reasserted itself on Caitlin's visage. Confused once more, she watched as John stared off into the distance. She put her hand in front of his eyes, intending to draw his attention, but was unsuccessful. She tried snapping her fingers in front of his face, to similar results. Finally, when she had grown impatient, she gave John a strong thump to the back of his head. The action had broken John out of his thoughts, and propelled his head forward.
            "Ow ow ow!" John stammered, staggering a few steps forward.
            "John, what is it?" Caitlin asked impatiently.
            "Sorry," John apologized. "I think that, if all goes well, this whole business you and your family have been involved in will be resolved by tonight, underneath the gaze of the moonlight. Yes... If my dad is able to obtain what I think is the key clue, then the bloody truth will be unveiled."
            "Why are you talking like that?" Caitlin asked.
            "Huh?" John replied.
            "'The blood truth will be unveiled?' That's a bit melodramatic, don't you think?"
            "Sorry! I'm finally getting to live my detective dream, just like my detective idols! I'm excited!"
            "Whatever," Caitlin said, rolling her eyes.
            Thus, John and Caitlin waited for a few hours, passing by the time in Caitlin's room, where they studied the differences between alleles and the variations of blood types, all in preparation for an upcoming Biology test. After a few hours had elapsed, he received a call on his phone from his father. John talked to him, and, after ending his conversation, wore a fiendish smile.
            "Ang isang katotohanan..." John muttered. Then, to Caitlin, he said, "Hey Kat, could you gather the three brothers in the living room?"
            "Um sure, but-" Caitlin began.
            "Don't worry, Kat!" John interjected. "This business is almost over."
            Doing as he asked, Caitlin left her room. As she closed her door, she saw John on his phone once more, making another fervent call. Still befuddled, she walked over to the room of the Vicario brothers, and, making up an excuse, got them to follow her to the living room. As she led the way into the living room, she noticed that her father and mother, who seemed to have been in the middle of a serious discussion, get up from the couch and go separate ways. She then sat on an armchair while the three Vicario brothers sat on the couch. All four of them were waiting for something, though what they were awaiting, Caitlin knew not.
            Finally, after some time, the sound of Caitlin's doorbell rang, and Caitlin's father opened the door to let in a man in a business suit. He carried a large leather briefcase, which he had set down on the floor upon entering the living room. His face was covered in facial hair, and his eyes were partially obscured by large, round glasses.
            "So, you are the three Vicario brothers, am I correct?" the man said in a feeble voice.
            "Yes..." Juan Vicario answered hesitantly. "But... who are you?"
            "Oh, I have still to introduce myself, don't I?" the man said. "I am Attorney William Francisco, of Legaspi Legal. I have verified that Mr. Vincent Vicario and his wife are both dead, and am here to read aloud his final will and testament."
            The four youths gathered around Mr. Francisco as he opened his briefcase and reached his hand into it. However, before pulling anything out, he said, "Oh, which one of you is Michael Vicario?"
            "That would be me," Michael said.
            "I have an item in my briefcase for you. My partner, Mr. Adrian Legaspi, placed it in here for me, and it's actually quite heavy. Could you help me pull it out?"
            "Um... okay..." Michael said. He reached a hand into the briefcase, rummaging through a mostly empty interior. However, he felt the cold taste of metal, and heard a faint click. Withdrawing his hand, he found that one of his arms had been captured by handcuffs.
            Suddenly, Mr. Francisco grabbed hold of Michael Vicario's other arm and used it as a lever to bring the youth to his knees.
            "Michael Vicario- or should I say, James Sicero- you are under arrest for fraud. Ikaw ay may karapatang manahimik. Ang iyong mga sasabihin ay maaaring gamatin bilang patunay laban sa iyo sa korte..."
            As Mr. Francisco fully cuffed James Sicero, he read the rest of the Miranda rights. After he had finished, a boy walked down the stairs, and Mr. Francisco said, "Good job, John. You performed well in this case. Granted, it was mostly under my direction, but you still did well, all things considered. I'll just take Mr. Sicero over here to RCPD HQ, and then I'll see you at home."
            "Alright, thanks dad," John replied. He watched as his father dragged James Sicero through the living room, out the front door, and into a RCPD squad car. When the squad car had disappeared from his sight, he returned to the living room, beaming at Caitlin.
            "And that ends that business," John announced to Caitlin and the Vicario brothers.
            "But... what just happened?" Lucas Vicario asked.
            "Allow me to explain. Kat approached me today about this whole business of your father having died and the question of the inheritance. I called my father, and he advised me to see if I could find any proof that the third brother was a fake, as he feared. So, I had Kat bring me here.
            "The first proof that was brought to my attention- and which I later picked up on- was about hereditary traits. I asked Kat to show me a picture of Mr. Vicario and his wife, and I noticed that they both had straight hairlines and smooth chins. With this in mind, I analyzed each of you to see if you had these recessive traits. As can be expected, both Vicario brothers had straight hairlines and smooth chins, while Mr. Sicero had a widow's peak and a cleft chin.
            "The former pieces of evidence, however, are merely circumstantial in the end. Therefore, we needed more concrete proof, which my mother, Dra. San Miguel, did: the patient records of the Vicario brothers and those of Mr. Sicero, done a week ago. More specifically though, what my father and I were interested in were the blood types of all aforementioned parties.
            "And so, under the moonlight, the bloody truth was revealed by my mother to my father, and then from him to me: Mr. Vicario had type A blood; his wife, type B; his sons, both type AB; and finally, Mr. Sicero, with type O. Since it is impossible for a couple with type A and B blood to give birth to a person with type O blood, we had concluded that Mr. Sicero was an imposter who had taken the name 'Michael Vicario' in order to cash in on the death of Mr. Vincent Vicario," John finished.
            "Wait... so father really is...?" Juan Vicario said.
            "Unfortunately, yes," John said somberly. "He and his wife were killed in a traffic accident a few months ago. A friend of my father in America confirmed that."
            "But wait... if you were going to use the medical records in the first place, what was the point of the circumstantial evidence?" Caitlin asked John.
            "Simple, Kat," John replied. "The circumstantial evidence was what enabled the court order that granted my father access to the medical records of the Vicarios and Mr. Sicero to be delivered.
            "In any case, this case is over. My dad should be getting the motive now. A real lawyer will be in touch soon with the real will of Mr. Vicario. As for me, I should get going. See ya, Kat."
            John turned around, preparing to exit the front door. He would have to retrieve his things from Caitlin's driver, but at least it wouldn't be a far walk back to 221 Xavier Street. As he opened the front door, Juan Vicario said, "This is... Who are you?"
            A smile appeared on John's face. Without turning around, he tilted his head, so that his face was half concealed by the shadow of the dark evening, and the other half lit by the bright lights of the Aquino residence.
            "Wolfe. My name is John San Miguel, but please call me Wolfe. And- like my father before me- I am a detective."

            The clock on the wall ticked closer to midnight. Outside the exhibition hall of Aguinaldo High School, a security guard tried to keep himself awake with a small cup of coffee. He yawned as he turned around and peered through the window in the oak door with his flashlight, giving the room a minute amount of illumination. After observing that the artworks left in his care remained, he turned his flashlight back to the hall, sweeping it down the two sides every few seconds. He had been informed that a thief might try to break in, but he was confident that no one would be able to steal the artworks within the exhibition hall. After all, there were no other entrances; and as an ex-officer of the RCPD, he still had the skills to capture criminals.
            He tried to remember what the big deal was with Rizal City's newest thief. He only targeted artworks made by students. Granted, thanks to their superb quality, they could probably fetch a pretty peso in the markets of the Entertainment District. However, they still weren't significant enough for the police chief of the RCPD to assign an entire task force to capture a petty thief. No, the guard was sure that the true reason that there was such a fuss about the stolen artwork was because their creators, the rich sons and daughters of Manorville, and their parents had pressured the police chief to bring justice to a small time thief. He almost felt sorry for Chief Lorenzo; then he remembered the reason why he quit the force in the first place.
            It was ten to midnight. The guard supposed that if the thief wasn't caught that night, then it would become a personal matter for the police chief. And since he was an ex-cop, he felt that he should help the RCPD's first investigation unit to capture the thief. He felt that he wouldn't need to do much though; after all, the 1st Investigation Unit was stationed outside Aguinaldo High, where they presumed the next theft to take place. As long as he guarded the only entrance into the exhibition hall, they should be fine.
            Midnight. He should be striking at that moment, according to the thief's modus operandi. Confidence, however, prevented the security guard from turning around to examine the exhibition hall. It was unfortunate too; had he done so, he would be in time to see a shadowy figure sneak around the hall, taking artwork after artwork from their places on the walls and hide them in a leather portfolio. When he was satisfied with a sizable amount, he returned to the center of the room, where a skylight let in a small amount of moonlight and a black rope. The thief fastened himself on the rope's harness, and then tugged lightly to indicate to his partner that he was ready. The accomplice pulled quickly, and the thief had escaped, just in time for the security guard to peer in and notice that the artworks were gone.
            As the security guard called the 1st Investigation Unit in a panicked frenzy, the thief and his accomplice ran the length of Aguinaldo High's ceiling, halting at the eastern edge of the school. As the accomplice made his way down the steel ladder they had prepared, the thief pressed a button. While he descended the ladder himself, he caught a glimpse of a red rocket shoot from the opposite end of the school and explode in the middle of the clear night sky. When he had made it to the ground, he peeked around the corner of the wall that hid him, watching with sad glee as the officers, infuriated by their failure to prevent another theft, charged into the school, wholly intent on canvassing the school.
            "Master, I believe now is the time to escape," the accomplice said to the thief.
            "I know. Do you have the portfolio?" the thief asked his assistant.
            "Indeed, sir."
            "Perfect. Let's get out of here."
            Silently, the thief and his accomplice fled Aguinaldo High as they disappeared into the night.
            The following day, the residents of Rizal Grove were treated to a surprising headline. On the front of every newspaper was a photo of the red rocket exploding in the night sky, and in bold, the title: RIZAL CITY'S NEWEST THIEF STRIKES AGAIN! THE SHADOW ESCAPES THE RCPD, STEALS FROM LOCKED ROOM!

-X-

      A shot shattered the silence as smoke rose out of the barrel of the boy's gun. Across from him was John "Wolfe" San Miguel, dressed plainly, who had been shielding a girl dressed aristocratically. A red stain started to appear on Wolfe's white shirt, and he winced in pain as he fell on his knees.
            As his vision began to blur, the victim looked his assailant in the eyes. They were a hue of dark brown, much like the rest of his kinsmen. However, his assailant's eyes seemed colder than those of his kinsmen, as though the killing of another person was merely perfunctory for him. The victim also began to notice his assailant's clothes for the first time, in excruciating detail: a dark button down shirt, dark slacks, and leather shoes. On his arm was a golden wristwatch, from which the victim heard time tick ever so slowly, marking the seconds leading to the inevitable.
            Gathering his energy, the victim spoke softly, in a voice barely higher than a whisper. "Et tú, Brutus?" Wolfe asked, his speech riddled with pain.
            "I'm not Brutus," his assailant replied. "But I am a countryman."
            "No, Lorenzo. You are a fool," Wolfe countered. At that moment, his will had left him, and he collapsed to the floor. He looked at Lorenzo one final time, and then his head fell to the ground with a small thud.
            Suddenly, the lights faded into darkness, and the red curtains of the Rizal City Theatre closed shut as a large audience got on their feet, roaring in applause. When the curtains separated once more, the cast of the play Wolfe had just finished performing in joined him at center stage, where he, along with Anna Léon and David Lorenzo, gave their final bows to the audience. With the play written by Wolfe's friend Caitlin Aquino being a success the previous year, it was chosen to be revived during Rizal City's Arts Festival. Most of the cast had re-signed on, save for a few, such as Russell DuCarte, who were busy crafting their own works for the Arts Festival.
            After their curtain call was over, the cast returned to the dressing rooms, where they changed back into their normal clothes. After bidding each other goodbye, the cast disbanded, and left only Wolfe and Anna to walk in a small cluster with two fellow classmates-David Lorenzo and Renee Martinez- as well as Steven Princeton, a son of Manorville who attended Aguinaldo High with another friend of his, Valerie Yang. As they walked, conversation drifted from topic to topic, until one subject piqued the attention of both Wolfe and Anna.
            "So, have you guys heard of that new thief?" Lorenzo asked. "My dad's going crazy trying to catch him, but he makes for an odd thief, since he uses high quality methods for targets of really low value."
            "But still, the fact that your father hasn't caught him is what makes him the top priority of Unit 1, right?" Wolfe asked Lorenzo.
            "Actually, I think he might transfer the job over to Unit 7."
            "What, now my dad has to catch the thief?"
            "Well, Inspector Alex IS the best in the RCPD- My dad the police chief exempt, of course."
            "But this thief is just some petty criminal. He doesn't go after any big game; in fact, all his heists are on things that would fetch only a few pesos in the market. The only thing mysterious about him is that he has somehow found a way to evade the RCPD and still pull off his heists. At some point, though, he'll get cocky, and that'll be the end of him."
            "Don't be too sure about that, Wolfe," Lorenzo said. "Who knows why he doesn't target higher-value works? What's important is that he can get away with it. To be able to sneak in to a locked exhibition hall, steal ten to twenty paintings, and then get away before anyone else noticed is an impressive feat. To add on to that, setting off a flare every time his heist is successful is just icing on the cake. I personally wouldn't be surprised if he began sending out challenges."
            "It would be an interesting, if not egotistical, development," Steven Princeton mused.
            "Well, I'm sure that my dad will be able to capture him," Wolfe yawned, placing his arms behind his head. "No need for me to get too curious, or involved in any way. I'll just hear from my dad the identity of the thief after he's been unmasked."

-X-

      Russell DuCarte wiped some sweat off of his forehead as he took a step back to behold his painting. It was a simple piece of natural scenery: waves lapping onto a beach while a light tower stood in the distance, atop a rocky cliff. The painting would probably sell for less than twenty pesos at the local market; after all, it was nothing compared to the much fancier artworks by the sons and daughters of Manorville, some of which could reach as high as seventy five pesos, if not more. Even still, Russell was proud of his work; a previous version of the same painting had been chosen to be featured in Rizal City's Arts festival, and he believed that this current version, which he had painted to replace the older version at the festival, was even better.
            He took a look at the clock on the wall of Rizal Academy's art studio as it ticked closer to midnight. A sudden foreboding feeling took hold of Russell. He heard that Rizal City's newest thief made his heists at midnight, with his targets being student-made paintings. However, he was reassured by the fact that all the targets thus far were paintings made by children of Manorville; besides, why would a thief target his own, measly painting?
            As the minutes approached midnight, Russell had the sudden urge to use the restroom. He locked the art studio, before jogging quickly to the nearest bathroom. He hastily did his business, and then returned to the art studio minutes later, where a shocking sight awaited him.

      The door to the art studio was still locked, but after he had unlocked it, he entered an empty studio. His painting had been stolen right under his nose! Aside from that, however, there was one other change in the room; a corner light was shut down, and in that corner stood a shadowy figure.
            Russell couldn't make out much of the figure. He knew from the physique that it must have been a male. He thought that the shoes were rounded, yet pointy, which meant he wasn't wearing sneakers or boots. The thief might have been wearing a hat, but he wasn't entirely sure of that either. The thief could also have been wearing something with long sleeves, as Russell thought he could make out cuffs on the thief's crossed arms. Other than that, the thief was nothing but a shadowy entity.
            There was a slight bit of fear in Russell, but anger over his painting's theft quickly overshadowed that. "Where is my painting?" Russell asked.
            "It's serving a worthier cause in my hands than yours," came the thief's response.
            "What do you mean by that, thief?" Russell challenged.
            "You are best friends with John San Miguel, correct?" the thief interjected quickly.
            "Yes," Russell replied, matter-of-factly.
            "Tell Wolfe I have a challenge for him," the thief instructed Russell. Russell heard him snap his fingers, and from a closet behind Russell, a cabinet opened with an envelope being illuminated by a small light. "Tell him that he should know better than to challenge a thief."
            "He's a detective," Russell warned. "He'll catch you."
            The thief laughed, a cold sound that crept through Russell's bones. "He's not a detective. Not yet."
            The thief then made a quick jerking motion, and Russell heard a cracking sound before smoke began to billow from the center of the art studio. Russell began to cough and gag as he heard the thief say one last line, "And if he is a detective, then let this be the great duel between detective and thief. Let us see what the Wolfe can do against the Shadow."
            Russell staggered out of the art studio and into the hallway leading to it. He waited a few seconds for the smoke to subside, and then rushed back into the art studio, intent on taking down the thief. However, by the time he returned, the thief had disappeared. Russell went to the open window, and looked up in time to see a red rocket explode on top of Rizal Academy. Russell swore, and then noticed that off in the distance, over what was Manorville, several red rockets exploded over mansions.
            Dumbstruck, Russell closed the window and then turned his attention to the envelope in the cabinet. He picked it up, pocketed the envelope, and then left the art studio, too shocked to even remember to lock the studio.

-X-

      The following morning, Wolfe descended the stairs, fully dressed for a Saturday of spending time with his friends, and saw a grim look on his father's face. He then noted that his father's work phone lay on the table, as did a newspaper with multiple photos and a large, red headline. He drew closer, and read the headline in bold: THE SHADOW'S BIGGEST HEIST YET!
            "Chief Lorenzo switched over the duty of capturing The Shadow to Unit 7, didn't he dad?" Wolfe asked.
            "Apparently, The Shadow is too much for just one Unit," his father replied. "So the Chief is having Units 1, 7, and 10 handle The Shadow case."
            "Wait, Uncle Mario and Inspector Marcos will be helping you and Inspector Noel on this case?"
            “Yes. The pressure from the Manorville families are really beginning to build on the Chief. We'll have to catch the thief in the next few days."
            "And do you have any clues yet?"
            "No, not yet. I was only assigned to this case this morning, and I'm still confused as to why he would only target such low value targets. The Shadow isn't a normal thief; that much I can tell."
            Inspector Alex stood up then, straightening his tie as he did so. "Well, I better get a move on. Have a nice day, John."
            "Bye," Wolfe said as his father put on his suit coat, leather shoes, and left out the front door. Just as Wolfe's father left through the front door, Wolfe saw his best friends Russell DuCarte and Anna Léon enter through the front door.
            "Rus! Anna!" Wolfe exclaimed, greeting his friends. "What're you two doing here so early? I thought we were gonna meet up at the Entertainment District for the unveiling of Rus' new painting."
            "About that..." Anna began, before Russell fished into his pockets for a white envelope. Raising an eyebrow, Wolfe took it from Russell, who had said nothing until he took it.
Breaking his stony expression, Russell said, "It's from him. A challenge from Rizal City's newest thief: The Shadow."
            Wolfe did his best to conceal his shock, but his jaw still dropped as he beheld the envelope in his hands. He didn't know what to do for a few moments; he merely stared at the plain white envelope. Then, remembering his father's training, he began examining the envelope, searching for any identifying marks and feeling the texture of the envelope, before proceeding to carefully open the envelope with a nearby pair of scissors. Once he had finished, he pulled out the letter. He examined the letter, feeling the texture of the paper and searching for any identifying marks, before reading the letter itself.
            The challenge was written in beautiful calligraphy, which Wolfe supposed was unusual for a thief of the 21st century. To accompany this, the paper wasn't the average printer paper that Wolfe used; rather, it was a piece of fine stationery with a golden design running the perimeter of the paper, so that the letter was framed within. The challenge, itself, was brief:
 

John "Wolfe" San Miguel,
 

    You fancy yourself a detective. I fancy myself a thief. Before your father spoils the fun, why don't we have a little duel? I dare you to catch me. Can the Sheriff of Nottingham catch this Robin Hood?

As the papers call me,

The Shadow

             Wolfe's expression retained its serious tone once he had finished reading the challenge.
            "I see..." Wolfe muttered after a few moments. "Rus, can you tell me anything else?" he implored. Russell recounted his entire encounter with the thief as Wolfe remained deep in thought the entire time. A few minutes after Russell had finished, Wolfe smacked his head and said, "Jeez, I forgot! Sorry, but could you guys handle this? I forgot that I have to help my little sister with something. She said her class is making something for the festival, so I volunteered to help her class." Turning to Anna, he asked, "Hey Anna, could you handle this one?"
            "Sure," she replied.
            "Good. Now, I'll have to lock up, so..."
            "Don't worry, we'll go now."
            "Ok. Can we meet up later? Say, around eight or something at the festival?"
            "Sure. Where exactly?"
            "I'll text you later."
            "Alright. See you later John."
            Anna and Russell left Wolfe's house then and walked up Xavier Street, with no general direction in mind. As the two walked, Anna became engrossed in a thought, and paid no attention to where they were walking. She almost walked into the middle of the road once, and Russell had to pull her back to the sidewalk, just narrowly avoiding a car which honked repeatedly at them. Still, Anna paid no mind to all outside distractions.
            Russell had often seen his friend Wolfe like that. At least, Wolfe had begun doing that ever since he had resolved himself to follow in his father's footsteps and become a detective. He had shown earlier glimpses when a problem truly confounded him, but not until recently had it become a habit of his. Now, Anna was displaying the same habit, which confused Russell.
            Wishing to put an end to his curiosity, Russell asked, "Um, Anna?"
            "Yeah?" she replied.
            "Since when did you want to be a detective?"
            "What do you mean?"
            "Well, what you're doing right now... I've seen John do it a couple of times before in the past. However, he didn't really begin doing it until he wanted his dad to teach him how to be a detective."
            "So now you're wondering when I had the same experience? The same calling?"
            "Pretty much."
            "It's a bit of a long story, and since John can't help us with this case, I'd rather we wait for another day to talk about it. But if you're really that curious, it happened on another case, shortly after ‘That Night’ two years ago."
            "Oh."
            Anna then shook her head and, with a smile, said, "But let's get back to your problem, Russell. So you say that you were in Rizal Academy's art studio when you encountered The Shadow?"
            "Yeah, near midnight last night," Russell responded.
            "Then maybe we should start our search there. Who knows? Maybe we'll be able to find a link between the theft of your painting and the other thefts."
            With a plan in hand, Anna and Russell walked to Rizal Academy in the Educational District, which luckily wasn't too far from Xavier Street in the first place. Under the pretense of a forgotten book, Anna and Russell were able to enter the school from the guard on duty. He left them alone in the main hall, muttering, "Forgetful Sophomores..." on his way out.
            After exchanging a quick look, Russell and Anna shrugged their shoulders and made their way to the art studio. When they arrived, Russell found that it was, as of yet, untouched.
            "So the RCPD still haven't attended to this crime scene..." Anna muttered.
            “So? They'll get around to it eventually," Russell replied. "Besides, doesn't this make our investigation easier?"
            "Technically. This IS strange, though," Anna said, beginning to make her way into the studio.
            "Strange? What is?" Russell asked, utterly confused.
            "If John were here, he would know. So would his father and mine, I bet," Anna commented. "This is a key point in the case."
            "How? My painting was the only one made by someone not from Manorville, but-"
            "That's exactly it, Russell. Why are you the only one whose painting was stolen, but was not from Manorville? Let's be honest: there are a LOT of paintings much better than yours that, like yours, were made by people not from Manorville. And yet, The Shadow chooses YOUR painting to steal? Why?"
            As Russell pondered the question, Anna began her examination of the art studio. It was left untouched from Russell's late-night encounter with the thief, and she was careful to try and preserve as much of the crime scene as possible for the RCPD inspectors. When she had finished her inspection a few minutes after she began, she gestured at Russell to follow her.
            They made their way to Russell's locker. Suddenly, Anna put her back to his locker and, in a low voice, moved closer to him and said, "Lean close. Pretend like you're kissing me."
            "Wait, what?" Russell asked.
            "Just do it!" Anna whispered furiously. Though thoroughly puzzled, Russell did as she asked. He leaned closer and, though their lips were nowhere near making contact, he was close enough to smell her breath. For her part, her long, dark hair covered his face, adding plausibility to their act.
            "Anna, why are we...?" Russell said.
            "Just hold it for a little longer," Anna commanded.
            "But... John will-"
            "HEY! YOU TWO!" a booming voice said from the other end of the hallway.
            Russell and Anna jumped apart, and Russell saw the security guard that had admitted them earlier.
            "GET OUT OF HERE!" the security guard thundered.
            With an embarrassed face, Russell replied, "S-sorry! We'll leave now!"
            Acting impulsively, Russell opened his locker, took a random textbook, closed and locked his locker, and then left with Anna, who was avoiding the cold eyes of the security guard.
            When they had left the building, Russell asked, "Anna, what was-"
            "I saw the guard coming, and I knew we couldn't tell him why we were really here. So, I needed an excuse for why we took so long," Anna explained, a little red faced. "It was the only thing I could think of!"
            "Oh, alright," Russell said, shrugging it off.
            "But... what were you saying earlier? About John?" Anna inquired.
            "Oh, I was just saying that he'd kill me if he thought I was kissing his girlfriend," Russell teased, a sly grin appearing on his face.
            "John's not my boyfriend!" Anna replied quickly, her face getting redder by the second.
            "Of course he isn't," Russell joked, winking an eye.
            "A-anyway, we should get back to your case," Anna said. "I couldn't really get much from the crime scene. I'm gonna guess that he probably used smoke pellets to conceal his escape, based on the fragment remains and burn marks I found on the floor of the art studio, so I bet we could get some more information at Rizal City Pyrotechnics. Aside from that, I was able to figure out how he made the door open to reveal the envelope."
            "Really? How?"
            "That's actually pretty easy. He used a long string of piano wire to open it from where he was in the corner. You said you couldn't see him fully, right?"
            "Yeah, I couldn't."
            "Then he likely hid in that corner to conceal the fact that he had some piano wire strung to open the cabinet door when it came time to."
            "So our next stop is Rizal City Pyrotechnics?"
            "Yup."
            Russell and Anna signaled for one of the passing tricycle services, and asked that they be brought to Rizal City Pyrotechnics. When they had arrived in front of the modest store in the Entertainment District, they got off, paid the tricycle driver, and entered the cool interior, escaping the heat of the outdoors.
            The two teenagers approached the counter, where they saw a thin man in a workman's apron, polishing large, round glasses. His black hair was bound in a ponytail, and he eyed the teenagers with suspicion as they got closer.
            "Um, excuse me, I was wondering if you could answer a question," Anna asked timidly.
            "Sure. What is it?" the store clerk asked.
            "My uncle ordered some smoke pellets for this movie he's shooting, and he asked me to follow up on his order."
            "Oh, is that all? Let me go check our order records," the store clerk said with a smile. He disappeared into a back room, and then returned with a large book bound in black leather. He flipped to a page, and with eyes wide with confusion, said, "I'm sorry, but are you sure your uncle ordered from us?"
            "Yes, he said he ordered from Rizal City Pyrotechnics," Anna replied.
            "Well, our records show that no one's ordered anything from us in the past few months," the store clerk said. "We' haven't sold any smoke pellets in the past few months as well. I'm sorry."
            "Oh, is that so? I'll go double check with my uncle then," Anna said.
            "Alright. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
            "No, that should be everything for now. Thanks for your help."
            "Have a good day now!"
            Russell and Anna exited the store, and Anna kicked the ground at her feet.
            "Well, I have no idea how to proceed from here," Anna said. "If The Shadow had ordered from here, then we would have a lead to continue on. However, since they haven't sold any smoke pellets in months, then he couldn't have obtained his smoke pellets from this store."
            "Hmm... maybe we should just call it a day?" Russell suggested.
            "But Russell... are you sure you don't want to try and get your painting back?"
            "Well, it doesn't really matter," Russell said, shrugging his shoulders. "Let's just meet up with John at the festival later."
            Russell and Anna bided their time then, and when night had fallen, they made their way to Rizal Square for the arts festival. Though they were going to wait for Wolfe’s text as to where he was, they quickly spotted Wolfe after arrival. He was dressed in his usual outdoor outfit: a red, white, and blue jacket in the design of the Philippine flag; a golden inner t-shirt, sporting the name of his high school; light khaki pants, which were slightly dirty; and white sneakers. He was looking at the time on his digital watch, and smiled broadly when he saw Russell and Anna approaching.
            "Rus! Anna! I was just about to text you where I was! How'd your search go?" Wolfe asked, curious.
            "Not well," Russell said.
            "Is that so?" Wolfe said, his tone turning grave. "Well, perhaps you'd like to hear what my day yielded?"
            "What do you mean?" Anna asked.
            "I said I was busy, right?" Wolfe said.
            "Yes..." Russell and Anna said in unison.
            "Well, this is what the fruit of my labor is," Wolfe said, stepping aside to reveal a black portfolio. Russell, a look of skepticism on his face, opened the portfolio, and, to his immense surprise, found his painting within.
            "But John...! How'd you...?" Russell asked.
            "That, Rus, is a somewhat long story," Wolfe said, sitting down on a nearby bench in the square.

-X-

      The sun was setting as a young teenager walked down the street to his house. He was wearing a black polo shirt, a black zip up hoodie, dark slacks, and dark sneakers. He had his hands in his pants, where he played with various pellets and tools. He let out a large sigh as he tilted his neck to the sky, observing the clouds overhead, as if he were trying to find meaning within them.

      As he neared, another teenager, dressed in a colorful jacket, a golden t-shirt, light khaki pants and white sneakers approached from the opposite direction.
            "Oh, Wolfe!" the teenager greeted. "Why're you-"
            "I received your note," Wolfe said, a serious tone in his voice. "Or rather, I received your challenge, Shadow."
            The smile that was on the teenager's face before disappeared. Instead, a serious tone matching Wolfe's crept into his voice. "So you accepted my challenge?"
            "Evidently," Wolfe replied, his face remaining stony.
            "And?"
            "I must admit, I almost didn't solve it. Had you not left the note with Rus, I probably wouldn't have been able to crack the case. But, like I told you after the end of Kat's play, you would get cocky."
            "So my challenge was what brought you to me? But how?"
            "Simple. There were many factors that pointed at you, and only you."
            "Such as?"
            "Calligraphy? That was probably the biggest clue. Or how about the fine parchment? Was a custom border truly necessary?"
            "Are those the only clues?"
            "Not actually. I presumed that, given Rus' description of the event and the crime scene, you had used smoke pellets to escape. However, based off of information I was able to secure from my father, I knew that your supplier couldn't have been Rizal City Pyrotechnics. Furthermore, the red rockets that signal your successful thefts couldn't have come from RCP. Therefore, you must have had an outside supplier.
            "On top of that, you were able to rob the Manorville homes with impunity. Given the descriptions Rus gave, the fact that you didn't challenge me until after hearing my opinion of The Shadow after Kat's play, and the wide range of resources available to you, in conjunction with the abilities of the thief, I deduced that there was only one person who could be The Shadow.
            "It could have only been you... Steven Princeton."
            Steven Princeton retained his serious demeanor. "And why couldn't it have been anyone else?"
            "The physique excluded the girls," Wolfe stated. "Which left only you and Lorenzo. However, Lorenzo doesn't have access to the materials at your disposal. Furthermore, why would Lorenzo cause his father such grief? Chief Lorenzo is currently under heavy pressure from the families of Manorville to recover the paintings which you, I would presume, have already put to use."
            "Use to what?" Steven challenged. "Or have you already deduced that as well?"
            "Well, truth be told, this is merely my hypothesis," Wolfe admitted. "If I had to venture a guess, you probably sold the paintings to market dealers under the guise that they were your own, then used that money to buy provisions for the poor in the Rizal City shelters."
            "You didn't guess. You went to the shelters I frequent, didn't you?" Steven asked.
            "Alright, fine, I visited the shelters. The volunteers there confirmed that as of late- since the first sighting of The Shadow, in fact- you've been coming to the shelter with food and drinks, which you hadn't done previously. I am curious as to two things, though."
            "What are they?"
            "First: Why challenge me? Second: Why did you resort to stealing the paintings? I mean, yes, you could have stolen them for any number of stupid reasons. But you also sold them. This means that you don't have the funds for provisions for the poor. Why is that?"
            "As of late, my father has had business trouble," Steven began. "Due to the current state of global finance, my father is struggling to keep his business afloat. With us having to be more prudent with our money, it's no wonder why I no longer have access to any funds I can use for buying things for the poor.
            "My butler, however, was very sympathetic to my cause. Since he grew up in poverty, he knew how important my goal was. With his help, and with the money I received from my birthday from relatives, I began planning my business of procuring pieces of art from those who could afford their loss, and then converting that into money to buy food and drink that the poor could use.
            "Of course, I never expected them to be so outraged at my heists," Steven said with a slight chuckle. "Nor the sensational adventures of The Shadow, as reported by the Rizal City Daily. I actually had planned on making Aguinaldo High's locked room heist my final one; however, two things convinced me to make one more heist."
            "My impression of The Shadow, and, if I had to guess, the increased pressure from the Manorville families?" Wolfe asked.
            "Precisely. Those two things bothered me, and so I resolved to make one more heist, to leave my mark on Rizal City. Though in retrospect, perhaps I shouldn't have challenged you: had I not, it might've taken the RCPD months to figure out who I was."
            "No. My father has already figured it out," Wolfe said. "In fact, he's on his way here right now."
            "So you're bait, then? A road block for my arrest?" Steven challenged, slowly reaching for his pocket, trying to grab his smoke pellets.
            "That won't work," Wolfe said, reading his opponent's movements. "By the time you begin to escape, RCPD Unit 7 will have encircled us. They'll see the immense smoke from your pellets, and rush to our location. You'll have no escape.
            "I do offer an alternative, however."
            "Which is?"
            "Hand me back Rus' painting. I know you still have it: your intention with that was never to sell it. Your only intention for it was to hold it until I came along to pick it up. When you've done so, quit this business. There are better ways that you can help the poor, Steven. You could join Rizal Academy's night ministry; they serve food to the poor once a day every week. Or maybe find some equivalent in Aguinaldo High. My point is you can help the poor in other ways."
            Steven was silent for a few moments. Then, he finally said, "I shall consider the latter. The former, however, I'll grant. Just go up to my house, ask for my butler, and tell him 'challenge complete.' He will give you your friend's painting then."
            Wolfe nodded in response. He began to walk towards the thief’s home when Steven asked, "Wait, a second, Wolfe... how did you suspect my motive?"
            "Simple," Wolfe replied. "You called yourself 'Robin Hood' in your challenge, remember? I thought it peculiar, and wondered whether that would speak to the kind of thief you were. I wasn't sure when I first came up with it, but that was confirmed when I visited the shelter."
            Wolfe continued on in silence. After he had retrieved Russell’s painting, he made his way to Rizal Square, thinking to himself, I hope this is the last I'll hear of The Shadow. However, in case he does end up stealing again, I'll be ready.

-X-                   

            "And guys, that's the story of how I got the painting back," Wolfe said, ending his story. With that, Wolfe stood up from the bench he was sitting on, and, stretching his arms, asked, "So, who wants to go see what else is here?"
            Nodding in agreement, Russell and Anna followed Wolfe, and the three of them perused the festival for the rest of the evening.
            Meanwhile, in Manorville, Steven Princeton mused, "Well done, John San Miguel. No...
            "Well done, Wolfe."

            John "Wolfe" San Miguel let out a bored sigh as he bent over the metallic checkout counter of the Maxwell Princeton Bookstore, a recent addition to Rizal City's Education District. With his semi-spiky jet-black hair flattening due to sweat, he wore a simple red polo and khaki slacks, as well as tennis shoes and a digital wristwatch.
            As the sixteen year-old soon-to-be senior gazed out of the clear automatic doors of the store, he longed to escape his unexciting job, whether it be joining his friends on their trip to a pool resort a few miles outside of Rizal City, or going with his friend Anna Léon on a trip out of the country, as she was currently on vacation in Italy with her father. He would even prefer to be within the cold, concrete interior of the RCPD, based in the Residential District of Rizal Grove, listening with rapt attention to Police Chief Lorenzo give the briefing on a new case, taking note of the details that his father would write down. Instead, thanks to his father's insistence that he find a real summer job instead of accompanying him on his police cases, Wolfe found himself in his current position, working for the father of his former friend-turned-bitter enemy, Prescott Princeton.
            As he contemplated how his mundane predicament could get worse, a boy his age with auburn hair gelled flat barked, "Wolfe!" Wearing a green polo shirt and black slacks, black, Italian leather shoes, and a golden wristwatch, he walked up to Wolfe with a sneer on his face.
            The boy wasn't alone, however. Along with him was a girl with hair as red as fire, flowing down to the midsection of her back. She was dressed nicely as well, wearing a white blouse and a green skirt that flowed to her knees. A small golden ring glinted on her right middle finger, which found a twin on the boy's right middle finger.
            Wolfe, addressing the both of them, feigned enthusiasm and said, "Ah, morning Prez. I see you brought your girlfriend with you today. How are you, Penny?"
            "Only my friends may call me 'Prez,' Wolfe, and only I can call my dear Penelope 'Penny,'" the boy stated with icy contempt. "Remember that."
            "Oh, c'mon Prez. Aren't we friends?" Wolfe replied with sarcasm, opening his arms as though he was asking for a hug.
            "Don't play dumb with me, you fake detective," Prescott replied with a snarl. "Remember, my father owns this store: I can ask him to fire you in a heartbeat if I wanted to."
            Why don't you so that I can escape this prison? thought Wolfe to himself. "What do you want anyway, Prescott?"
            "Why, pray tell, were you bent over the counter?" Prescott asked with suspicion in his voice.
            "Well, there's not really much sense in me standing up all day," Wolfe retorted. "Especially since there's no one here."
            "So? The Maxwell Princeton Bookstore has an admirable and enviable record here in Rizal City for a friendly environment and fantastic customer service. I won't have you besmirching that name by slacking off!" he warned Wolfe. Then, taking his companion's hand, he said to her, "Let's go, Penny. I have reservations at Las Islas restaurant, and we best not be late."
            The couple walked out of the store, and Wolfe sank into his chair, letting out another deep sigh as he massaged his temple.
            Later that day, around six pm, Maxwell Princeton stormed into the store, wearing a gray business suit. He was a large and muscular man with a balding head, and looked more like a hired thug than a businessman. Angrily, he began an inspection of the bookstore until, a few minutes into his inspection, he let out a large roar. He marched up to Wolfe, who was looking alarmed and slightly afraid of his boss' sudden appearance, and grabbed him by the collar with one arm, lifting him off his seat, all the while yelling, "SAN MIGUEL!"
            "Yes, Mr. Princeton?" Wolfe asked him in a trembling voice.
            "HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO EXPLAIN THE ROW OF MISSING BOOKS ON THAT BOOKSHELF?" he demanded.
            Wolfe turned his attention to the bookshelf Mr. Princeton pointed out, and was shocked to find one of its rows empty. "But that's impossible!" he exclaimed. "No one entered the store between the time Prescott left earlier, and you coming in here, sir!"
            "EXCUSES!" Mr. Princeton thundered. "I received a tip that this had occurred, but I didn't want to believe it to be true. Well, unless you can explain the sudden disappearance of those books, I'll fire you for incompetence! I might even have a word with your father!"
            Worried about the prospect of the second threat becoming a reality, Wolfe began conducting an investigation using the detective skills his father had been teaching him, as well as methods of observation he learned from years of study in the manner of deduction. He began by a thorough examination of the crime scene before he wandered around the store for a few minutes. When he had concluded, he strode up to Mr. Princeton and said, "Sir, I think I have an explanation. I believe the missing books are, in fact, currently within your office, near the south entrance of the store.
            "This, sir, is how I think things occurred. The culprit entered through the south entrance, took the row from the bookshelf, and then quietly retreated before I could notice them. Since I was completely preoccupied with the northern entrance, assuming they didn't make too much noise, I couldn't have noticed someone sneaking in from the southern entrance.
            "After taking the books, they retreated to outside your office, took out a key, opened the locked door, and placed the books inside. He closed the door, locked it again, and left."
            "My office?" Mr. Princeton asked with suspicion. "Why do you believe the missing books are in my office?"
            "Before I get to that, sir, I believe I also know who the culprit is."
            "And who do you think is the culprit, San Miguel?" Mr. Princeton inquired.
    "Well sir, forgive me for accusing, but I believe the culprit is your son, Prescott."
            "Prescott? That's a heavy allegation, San Miguel!"
            "You see, sir, he mentioned earlier that he was going to eat at Las Islas restaurant. Las Islas uses a distinctive sauce in one of their signature dishes. Its color matches a small stain I found on the bookshelf, and the odor smelled the same as well.

              Furthermore, when I checked the door to your office, the door was locked, but I saw the shadow of a stack of books through the window, and I found more traces of Las Islas' distinctive sauce on the doorknob to your office door. I know, sir, that my fellow staff members and I don't have universal access keys: however, I have seen Prescott entering your office in the past, utilizing a key, which I presume is a universal access key, to gain entry when it was locked."
            "Well, it is true that I give him a universal access key last year. And he did tell me over breakfast that he had reservations for two at Las Islas restaurant…" Mr. Princeton contemplated. "Alright, San Miguel. I'll believe you for now. I'll contact my son and have him come here."
            Wolfe stood in front of Mr. Princeton's threatening gaze as he called Prescott to the store. A few minutes later, Prescott Princeton appeared before Maxwell. After an explanation of Wolfe's hypothesis and a heavy, stern gaze directed towards his son, Maxwell Princeton received a confession from Prescott, wherein Prescott confirmed that he had moved the books. Though he wouldn't give the reason why, Prescott's confession was enough to clear Wolfe's name.
            "Well, I suppose I was wrong about you, San Miguel," Mr. Princeton said later. "You may leave now."
            "Yes sir!" Wolfe said, leaving the Princetons and going to the employee lockers as Prescott trembled before his father's fearsome gaze.
            As Wolfe exited the store, Prescott clenched his fist, muttering to himself, "This isn't over yet, Wolfe…"

-X-

      A week later, Wolfe was once again in front of the checkout counter, reading a new detective novel for as he waited for a patron to require his assistance. Just before entering the second part of the book, Wolfe yawned, closed the book and set it down on a shelf behind the counter. He got up and let his eyes wander around the northern entrance of the store, skipping over books and customers until they fell on a decoration above a pencil sharpener and some books: The Phantom's Frame, an ornate, golden frame that housed a painting of a castle in the midst of a snowy countryside.
            Wolfe recalled then the time Mr. Princeton first installed the frame in the store. On the first day of his job, earlier that summer, Mr. Princeton entered the store a half hour before it opened, hung up the frame, and gave its history to the gathered employees.
            "Alright employees," Wolfe remembered Mr. Princeton saying, "This is the Phantom's Frame, which houses the single painting of the castle of my ancestor, Lord Philip Phantom. According to its history, Lord Phantom wanted a painting of his castle, but also wanted a beautiful frame to hold it in. After months of work, both the painting and the frame were completed, though modern appraisers agree that the frame is more valuable than the painting. Since this belonged to my ancestor, it is a priceless Princeton family artifact. In fact, the only reason I'm placing it here is because my home is currently being renovated to make space for this treasure which I brought back with me from my last trip to England. Should any mark appear on it, the person responsible will find themselves out of a job faster than is humanly possible!"
            After his memory faded back into the recesses of his mind, Wolfe returned to anticipating a customer's assistance, as a girl used the pencil sharpener underneath the frame.
            Around six pm that day only Wolfe remained working, while Prescott and his girlfriend read a book in the reading area at the corner of the store. While Wolfe was taking manual records of the sales that day, the tip of his pencil broke. Snarling at having to get up and sharpen it, Wolfe strode to the pencil sharpener underneath the frame.
            As he sharpened his pencil, the pencil sharpener suddenly stopped working. Wolfe glanced down at the pencil sharpener, curious as to why it would suddenly stop working. While he thought of a reason, he took out the dustbin to inspect the insides. Within the mechanical interior, he found a shiny object. Thinking that the shiny object must be the cause of the sudden break down, Wolfe reached behind the desk to unplug the power cord of the pencil sharpener, so that he could safely remove the object. While he was removing the power cord, he felt something resembling a thin wire. He paid it no mind and continued to pull on the plug. After unplugging the cord, however, chaos began.
            It began with a small sound: a tiny plop on the ground. In fact, it was so small that Wolfe barely heard it. However, what came next, Wolfe definitely took notice of. Heavy white smoke began billowing from behind the bookshelf, so that it obscured the frame in a few seconds, and covered Wolfe's immediate area a few seconds after that. He began coughing as he tried to see through the smoke.
            "Wolfe! What in the blazes is happening?" Prescott's voice echoed from somewhere in the store.
            "I don't know Prescott! We just need to focus on getting out of here for now!" Wolfe replied with annoyance.
            "And how in the world are we supposed to do that when there's smoke all over this building?" Prescott challenged.
            There's smoke all over the building…? Wolfe thought. This isn't good. We need to get out. "Alright, I'm near one of the doors. Try to follow my voice!" Wolfe yelled at the two other teens inside the store. He got down on his knees to search for a path towards the exit, and he began to crawl when he had located the bottom of the silver doors that would lead them to safety. A few occurrences happened on his way out, however. Once, he thought he bumped into someone. Another time, as he inched ever closer to the door, he thought he heard noises. These things he disregarded as he thought of everyone's safety first.
            After minutes of scrambling around on the ground, Wolfe felt the sensors near the front doors. "Guys! I've found the exit!" Wolfe said. He waited a few more minutes, shouting still to try and get others to come to him. After a while, he realized that he should try to catch a deep breath of clean air before attempting to find Prescott and Penelope. Thus set, Wolfe staggered towards the double doors, and inhaled deeply as doors slid open and the white smoke burst from behind him. Looking around, Wolfe saw that fire trucks and police cars were beginning to make their way onto the store parking lot. He took a few more deep breaths before re-entering the store's smoky interior, entering a few paces ahead of the doors.
            "Prescott! Penelope! Are either of you still in here?" Wolfe called out. There was no response. "Prescott! Penelope! Shout back if you can hear me!" Wolfe called out once more. Still nothing.
            Grr… maybe they've already gotten out? Wolfe thought. Just before he called out once more, a hand grasped his shoulder, and Wolfe turned around to see a man, clean-shaven with slick black hair, wearing a fedora hat and a gray suit.
            "Johnny! What are you still doing in here?" the man asked him.
            "U-uncle Mario?" Wolfe addressed the man.
            "Look, the others are already outside. We've got to get out!"
            "R-right!"
            Wolfe's uncle dragged him back outside where, just as he had said, Prescott and Penelope were waiting with two police officers.
            As Wolfe coughed due to the smoke, Inspector Mario's partner, Inspector Jerry Marcos, who was dressed similarly to his uncle, approached Wolfe and said, "Well, John, this is certainly unexpected. We've seen you at crime scenes before, but not without your dad around. Anyway, you know the drill. I'd like to get your statement on this incident while we wait for the smoke to dissipate."
            Wolfe recounted the events concerning the genesis of the smoke as he watched the smoke gradually disappear. After he had finished telling his tale a half hour later, the interior of the building was as clear as it was before the incident began.
            "Inspector Marcos! It seems we can investigate the interior now!" one of the officers said.
            "Good! Now, let's go in," Inspector Marcos said. The task force went in, along with Maxwell Princeton, who had arrived on the scene moments earlier, to investigate the interior. However, only a few minutes had elapsed when a loud yell resembling that of a wounded animal began emanating from the insides of the building.
            "MY FRAME! MY FRAME!" it roared. "WHERE IS MY FRAME?"
            "Calm down, sir! We'll execute a search for it!" Wolfe heard his uncle yell over Mr. Princeton's screams.
            When the search began, Wolfe stared at the sight of uniformed RCPD officers spread out to look for it within the store's walls. So, this is what the smoke was used for, Wolfe thought. Someone wanted to mask the theft of that frame.
    As he looked on at the investigation, Wolfe spotted his father, Inspector Alex San Miguel, enter the parking lot. Dressed similarly to the other police inspectors, albeit without a fedora, Alex walked up to his son and received the details of the case. Soon after, the RCPD ended their investigation of the store interior, the search yielding no results. The police then began searching the parking lot where, a few minutes into that search, one of them yelled, "I found it!"
            All the officers and Mr. Princeton gathered around a white car and, from the popped trunk, a golden frame appeared.
            "Mr. Princeton, is this your frame?" Inspector Marcos asked him.
            "It is!" Mr. Princeton replied.
            "Well then, whose car is this?" Inspector Marcos asked the officers.
            When Wolfe saw the car they were gathered around, he said, "Mine."
            "Son, this is your car?" Inspector Marcos asked.
            "Yes, it is mine," Wolfe replied.
            "In that case, I'm afraid I must arrest you for the attempted theft of Mr. Princeton's frame," Inspector Marcos replied, approaching Wolfe with handcuffs.
            "Jerry!" Inspector Mario protested.
            "Inspector Marcos, I didn't do this!" Wolfe said.
            "Well son, all the evidence is against you. According to your witness statement, you were near the epicenter of the first smoke outburst. In addition, you were inside for quite some time, and you were the last one to exit the building. Finally, this frame was found inside your car," Inspector Marcos said. "With all this evidence, I have to take you to the station for questioning."
            Anger boiled within Wolfe. He was going to be questioned like some suspect. As he thought of this, his father spoke up, saying, "But there's something odd about this whole business, isn't there Jerry?"
            "Bro, what're you talking about?" Inspector Mario said.
            "Yes, what do you mean Alex?" Inspector Marcos asked. "Look, I know John is your kid, but you can't deny that the evidence is against him."
            "Well, the evidence certainly IS against him," Inspector Alex said.
            Thanks dad, Wolfe thought privately.
            "However," Inspector Alex continued, "Do you have your keys on you, John?"
            "My keys?" Wolfe replied, caught off guard.
            "Yes, your car keys. Do you?"
            "No, I don't-"
            "And where are they?"
            "In my employee locker…"
            "Well then, why don't we look there for it?"
            Inspector Alex led the way forward with a wry smile as Wolfe and the RCPD task force followed him. Upon entering the building, which was now cleansed of smoke, Wolfe led the way to the employee break room, which was by the southern entrance to the store and was where the employee storage lockers were. He went to his locker- a small, red locker by the wall- and found to his surprise that it wasn't locked.
            "Well, that's odd," Wolfe commented. "I swear I locked this when I placed my car keys in here when I arrived to work this morning.
            "And are they in there?" Inspector Alex asked his son.
            Wolfe searched within his locker for his car keys, and then shook his head when he couldn't find them.
            "Just as I thought. Simplicity in itself, really," Inspector Alex confessed. "It was a strikingly odd point. If my son was the culprit, why didn't he leave immediately after the theft? Surely he would've been smart enough to leave immediately after a heist, especially since he's tagged along on enough robbery investigations to know that trying to hide usually means the culprit would be caught by me. Why, then, didn't he leave? It's because he couldn't, because he didn't have his car keys. Therefore, I wager that the frame is still somewhere here, having been stolen by someone else."
            "Alex, what do you mean?" Inspector Mario asked. "Isn't the frame in Johnny's car Mr. Princeton's missing frame?"
            "It isn't, actually," Inspector Alex replied. "It's a cleverly-crafted counterfeit of the real frame. There are marks there to prove it, but we don't have time to get into that detail now. Just know that the frame in my son's car is a fake, and that the real one is probably still somewhere in here."
            "But how do you know it's still here?" Inspector Marcos asked.
            "Oh, just a hunch," Inspector Alex answered with a smile.
            "In that case, we'll have to do a better search of the area," Inspector Marcos said. "Mario, I want you to relay a message to HQ. I need to ask Chief Lorenzo for permission to cordon off the Education District while we search for the frame."
            "The entire Education District?" Inspector Mario asked in disbelief. "Jerry, that's a bit too much, don't you think? We'd need at least half of the force… probably more!"
            "Well, it's not like we have much choice. You know how powerful Mr. Princeton is."
            "Alright, alright… I'll talk to Chief. I can just tell right now he won't be pleased, though."
            After Inspector Mario left to ask for Chief Lorenzo's permission, Inspector Marcos began to lead the rest of the task force in searching for the frame, canvassing both the store interior and the immediate surroundings of the store.
            Meanwhile, Wolfe took a seat within the employee break room. He then put his fist to his mouth and began considering the case from multiple angles, trying to make sense of the entire affair. Inspector Alex saw his son adopt his signature thinking pose and said, "So, what do you make of this case John?"
            "Well, not too much yet dad," Wolfe confessed with a sigh of disappointment. "I have no clue as to how this theft was conducted, nor who could've stolen the frame and why. This entire case is just one big mystery for me."
            "Well, we are detectives, son. It's our job to unravel mysteries, is it not?"
            "I suppose. But what can I do? I'm still technically the prime suspect in this case."
            "Why, is it not simplicity in itself, your task? You've got to find the real thief. Otherwise, you'll be brought down to HQ in handcuffs, and I don't think your mother would appreciate that."
            "Yeah, I'd hate to see mom after finding me there in handcuffs. I'd be more afraid of her than Chief Lorenzo, to be honest."
            Wolfe and his father shared a chuckle at the sentiment, before Wolfe returned to thinking about the case. "Where can I start, dad?" he asked his father.
            "It's obvious," Alex replied. "Start where it all began."
            Wolfe nodded and proceeded to the bookcase with the pencil sharpener, where the smoke originated from, and inspected the back of it. Near the socket, he found a thin piece of wire, looped in such a way that it made a weird figure eight. Also, on the floor below the socket was an assortment of small fragments around a small burn circle. When Wolfe picked them up to inspect them, he found that they were made of ceramic.
            Following this, a thought struck Wolfe and, without saying a word, he began searching for the sharpener, his father following him around to observe him. At last he found it, having dropped it to the ground during the smoke's original outburst, obscured by some books that had been knocked over in the panic. Wolfe inspected the inside of the sharpener then, and found that something glinted inside. He pulled it out, and found that it was a small, golden ring.
            "So John, have you figured it out yet?" Wolfe's father suddenly interrupted.
            "Huh?" Wolfe asked.
            "You've inspected the crime scene. You know the methods. Now apply them."
            "Oh, right dad. Sorry. Well, after examining this case, I think it's clear who stole the frame and how it was done."
            "Have you figured out motive and where the frame is currently?"
            "No, not yet. But I can tell you that, if I'm right, it's Prescott Princeton."
            "Are you sure about that, John?"
            "Yeah."
            "And can you prove that it's Prescott? This is a serious allegation."
            "Actually, I can," Wolfe said, holding up the ring he found inside the pencil sharpener. "I know that Prescott owns a ring just like this one, and I noticed earlier that he isn't wearing his ring."
            "Well, if you're sure, I'll go test your theory. I'll see if Prescott did this," Alex said.
            "Dad, trust me, it was Prescott," Wolfe replied.
            "If you're sure," his father replied, walking away. "Try and figure out where the frame is while I'm gone."
            "Alright, I will," Wolfe replied.

-X-

      Later that evening, the RCPD finished their search of the Education District and had, to their utter disappointment and Inspector Marcos' frustration, found no trace of the Phantom's Frame. Upon returning to the store, they found that Inspector Alex was questioning Prescott Princeton, who was being counseled by his father, and joined in on the questioning.
            "I already told you, I didn't commit this!" Prescott insisted. "And how dare you accuse me of this theft!"
            "Calm down, kid," Inspector Marcos said. To Inspector Alex, he said, "Alex, I thought you said your son had a feeling it was this kid."
            "Well, yes. John said it was Prescott Princeton," Alex replied.
            "Inspectors, I can assure you, my son could not have done this," Mr. Princeton said.
            "And what's your proof that I did this theft, anyway?" Prescott challenged. "Unless you've got proof that I did this, which I didn't, I can make some suggestions to the RCPD chief on new posts."
            "Prescott!" Mr. Princeton said.
            "What, father? They have no right to make baseless accusations!"
            "But they're not, Prescott," Wolfe said, walking up to the crowd.
            "What're you talking about Wolfe?" Prescott said.
            "They're accusing you because I had proof."
            "So YOU are the one behind this!"
            "Calm down, Prescott."
            "And what, pray tell, is your proof, you detective wannabe?"
            "How bout this ring?" Wolfe said, holding up a golden ring. "I know you wear this kind of ring. I found this inside the pencil sharpener, shortly before the smoke began. And I see you're not wearing a ring."
            "W-what? But-"
            "How does that link you to the theft? Well, imagine this scenario. A person is trying to sharpen their pencil. The ring, stuck inside the pencil sharpener, causes the pencil sharpener to break down. Curious, the person looks inside and finds the ring. Wanting to get it out, they remove the plug. What happens then? Smoke begins to billow out.
            "But how? Well, it's simple. See, whoever set this trick up rigged the pencil sharpener to break down so that the plug would be removed. But why? Because attached to the plug is a simple device: a wire looped to a smoke bomb. You see, one end of the wire was looped tightly around the smoke bomb, ensuring the smoke bomb doesn't fall out before the plug was removed; on the other end of the wire, a loose loop on the prongs of the socket to tie the smoke bomb to the socket, so that, when removed, it would drop due to gravity, and thus break upon impact, starting the smoke. There's evidence of this too; behind the bookcase, there are small ceramic fragments, as well as a burn mark and a small wire looped in a weird figure eight. I saw similar fragments from when my dad was on the ‘ninja heist’ case, and I tagged along to observe.
            "But now, back to the ring. I see you're not wearing your ring. I know you wear this kind of ring. Based on that, it's very possible that you rigged this entire set up."
            "But that's not possible-"
            "Then again," Wolfe interrupted him quickly, "You're NOT the only one who wears this kind of ring, right?"
            "Wait, he's not?" Inspectors Mario and Marcos asked in unison while Inspector Alex smiled.
            "Yeah," Wolfe responded. Then, turning to Penelope, who was next to Prescott, he said, "I see you're not wearing your ring either, Penelope. And if I'm not mistaken, this is a women's size ring."

            "And how would you know that?" Penelope asked him.
            "Let's call it a hunch," Wolfe replied, glancing down at the silver ring that hung on his neck, which was a present he had bought his friend Anna years prior, but that she, in turn, gave to him as a present on a dinner date they had in their junior year. "Besides, though Prescott would be the most likely suspect for my theory, given that he has means in the form of his universal access key and motive in his hatred of me, it was YOU that I saw earlier, fiddling with the pencil sharpener. After you, no one else used the pencil sharpener. Therefore, it must've been you."
            "But then, what's the motive, Johnny?" Inspector Mario asked.
            "Simple, uncle. Romantic attachment," Wolfe replied.
            "Romantic attachment?"
            "Yeah. Penelope IS Prescott's girlfriend, and has been his girlfriend for some time now. Naturally, she would be moved to help out her boyfriend if a certain someone kept causing him problems, right?
            "If I had to guess, she set this entire 'theft' up to try and frame me and get me fired. She must've snuck into the break room and opened my locker with Prescott's universal key. You don't have it, do you Prescott?"
            Prescott, surprised, checked his pockets, to find that he didn't. "No, I don't," he admitted.
            "Of course, naturally, if we were to search Penelope, she would probably have it. Well? What do you say to that, Penelope?" Wolfe challenged.
            "If you've figured out that much, then where's the frame?" Penelope asked.
            "That one was a bit tougher to find out. First of all, did you find the frame in the Education District, Inspector Marcos?"
            "Unfortunately, no," Inspector Marcos admitted.
            "Well then, as I thought, the thief hid the frame within the store. But where? The RCPD searched the entire interior of the store. Well, if it isn't inside the store, what about inside the store's walls?"
            "Inside the walls?" Inspector Mario asked. "Then you mean…?"
            "Yeah, I think the frame is within a hole in the wall. Earlier, after my father left me to think about the frame's location, I noticed hairline marks on the wall. As I was examining them, I was surprised to find the wall shake a bit. After measuring the dimensions of the sliding wall I found that it would fit the missing frame, being able to conceal it if it were indeed in there. Furthermore, it wouldn't be too much to suppose that Penelope set this sliding wall by herself as well. After all, her father is a construction worker in one of the developing districts in the city."
            "But the wall simply shaking could've meant a weak wall as well. How did you make certain that the frame was inside this hole?" Inspector Marcos asked.
            "Simple: I had a crazy idea, and I conducted a test. First, I knocked on the wall. If there was nothing there, there should've been a hollow sound. Since I heard a muted sound, I began seriously considering the frame being there, which would've meant there was a hole in the wall that was being hidden by the sliding wall. I expect that if we check inside the hole, the frame will be there," Wolfe concluded.
            "Well, Ms. Perez? Do you deny these allegations?" Inspector Mario asked her.
            "No," Penelope replied.
            "Penelope!" Prescott gasped. "So it was you?"
            "Yes," she said.
            "But why?"
            "It was for you. If Wolfe got fired, then he would no longer bother you as much. You'd be happier then, right?"
            "But Penelope…"
            "Still, it doesn't matter if they've found the criminal," she said suddenly, a different edge to her voice. "They still have to catch the criminal."
    With that, Penelope began running away, the inspectors and Wolfe trying to catch up to her. As they were getting closer, she redoubled her efforts, and soon had successfully evaded her immediate pursuers.

-X-

            Penelope stuck to the shadows, trying to avoid all RCPD personnel, since she knew that they would all be informed of what had occurred and would try to capture her. Privately, she cursed both her own bad luck and Wolfe, who had foiled her plan to please Prescott and had brought her current misfortune on her. However, she tried to keep a level head, and began thinking of her next plan.
            While she hid in the shadows of some bushes, narrowly evading an RCPD squad car, a sudden desire struck her. Finding that she had unwittingly entered Rizal Grove, she began navigating the streets, using the dark corners and alleyways that all the children had memorized from their youth of treating the residential district as their backyard. After minutes that felt like hours of wandering Rizal Grove's streets, she caught sight of her own home. However, as she began moving forward, a sudden thought formed inside her mind. She suspected that the police would have planned an ambush for her, and so she began thinking of a different safe house.
            As she racked her brain for different safe houses, she thought of Prescott's second home in Rizal Grove. Prescott's second home, which was as grand as his primary residential home in the Manorville District, was seldom used and was located in a different part of Rizal Grove. She remembered that, since Prescott had given her a room in his second home, she also had clothes stored and a key to the house. Having decided to visit Prescott's second home, she took one last glimpse of her own home, and then began making her way to her safe house.
            The night had grown even darker as she navigated Rizal Grove's streets once more. One by one, the lights of the residential district's denizens went dark as even the latest of night owls began to prepare themselves for whatever awaited them in their dreams, whether it be blissful peace or a tormenting nightmare. When she finally did reach her safe house, the buzz of the crickets and the cicadas had long ceased and faded into complete silence, which sent chills up her spine as she imagined herself being stalked like a deer by some predator of the night. She fumbled in her purse for a few silent minutes as she looked for her spare key. When she had finally found it, she breathed a small sigh of relief, and opened the door quickly, entering the living room like a phantom.
            With her eyes accustomed to the dark, she did not bother trying to turn on lights: she was too afraid that someone would notice. Besides, she had lived in Prescott's second home enough to have memorized the layout of the house. Taking care to avoid various pieces of furniture, she made her way to her second floor bedroom and flung open a wooden dresser. Not even caring what she was taking, she began flinging various clothes onto her bed and, once she was done, she looked underneath it for a duffel bag. She instinctually knew that she had to leave Rizal City, lest she be caught by the RCPD for waiting too long.
            When she had finished packing, she zipped up her duffel bag, returned to the first floor, and proceeded to the kitchen. She opened the door to the pantry, and began stuffing her travel bag with various chips and other foods-to-go. When she tested her duffel bag and found it to her liking, she began making her way to the door once more when she heard the lock turn. Paralyzed with fear for a second, she hid in the kitchen, until she heard the door close and heard a familiar voice whisper, "Penny?"
            She gasped as she heard Prescott walk into the living room. "Penny?" he whispered once more, before actively looking for the light switch.
            "Don't turn the lights on, Prez," Penelope finally whispered when she saw him getting closer to a light switch.
            "Penny? Where are you?" Prescott asked.
            Penelope exited her hiding place and silently walked up to Prescott. She gave him a quick kiss, then tenderly whispered, "Here."
            "Penny, I can't believe you did that," Prescott said. "You almost committed a crime and nearly got Wolfe fired and arrested… all for me?"
            "Of course," she replied.
            "But why?"
            "Because I love you, Prez," she said, kissing him once more. "I love you so much that seeing Wolfe irritate you time and again hurt me. So I just wanted to get rid of him for you."
            "Penny, you didn't have to do that," Prescott said.
            "I would've done it anyway. And I did."
            "Well, what's done is done. Just give me a few minutes, will you?"
            "A few minutes? For what?" Penny asked.
            "To pack. I'm coming with you," Prescott said with a smile.
            "But Prez…"
            "Look, I'm not going to stand by and let the love of my life slip away from my fingers. I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."
            "But what about your father? And your life?"
            "My father always liked my younger brother Steven more anyway," Prescott asserted. "And you ARE my life, Penny. So, just give me a few minutes to pack."
            "Oh Prez!" Penelope gasped. He drew her in for another quick kiss, before entering a tight hug that lasted a few minutes. However, in the midst of their hug, they heard a window smash on the upper floors.
            "What was that?" Prescott wondered aloud. They broke out of their hug, and had begun to think about investigating the source of the noise when a chilling laugh reverberated throughout the nearly empty house. It sent shivers up their spines, and they felt fear grip their hearts.
            "Who's there?" Prescott demanded. However, the laugh continued and grew louder. It unnerved the pair, and shook them to their core. It was a menacing laugh, cool and calculated at the same time. It paralyzed them, keeping them rooted in their spots.
            "WHO ARE YOU?" Prescott demanded once more.
            "Did you really think I would let you escape?" the voice asked. Its question echoed throughout the house, so that Prescott and Penelope couldn't pinpoint its source. "Well, did you?" The voice shouted the last word, and with it, Prescott was able to recognize the voice.
            "Wolfe?" Prescott asked.
            "You're not escaping justice, Prescott. Neither will you, Penelope."
            "You can't hide, Wolfe! Penelope and I WILL escape Rizal Grove. We WILL escape Rizal City. We WILL escape YOU. You're nothing but some wannabe detective!" Prescott taunted.
            "Really? After what you and your girlfriend have done? When you almost got me arrested? When you almost tainted my name? You and your girlfriend crossed the line, Princeton, and I will personally take the both of you down."
            "So what? You're going to kill us?" Penelope taunted Wolfe.
            "Kill you? No. But I WILL arrest you both. Penelope, you'll go to jail for theft. And as for you, Prescott, you'll go to jail for obstruction to justice. I haven't forgotten how you helped Penelope escape the RCPD at Bonifacio Street."
            "Really? It's two on one, Wolfe! You can't take us both down!"
            "Well then… let's test that theory, shall we?"
            Suddenly, from behind Prescott, two hands grabbed him and locked him in a chokehold. Before Prescott could react, Wolfe delivered a knee to Prescott's kidney, before throwing him against the wall. He then turned his sights on Penelope, who was fumbling in her bag for something. As Wolfe closed in, she drew a can and prepared to spray it, hoping to incapacitate Wolfe. However, before she could, Wolfe used his left arm to knock the can away, before using his right hand to deliver first a fist to her abdomen, then an elbow to her face, sending her staggering backwards. He completed his combination with a right kick to her chest, knocking her off her feet and onto the floor.
            When he had finished with Penelope, he returned his sights to Prescott, who had a fist flying towards him. Wolfe parried the flying fist with his right arm, sidestepping so that Prescott had almost passed him; then, he grabbed onto the right arm, before kneeing him in the abdomen. He followed up the attack with a left elbow drop to Prescott's caught arm, sending shocks of pain upon impact. He finished his combo by releasing Prescott and sending a whirlwind roundhouse kick to Prescott's face, knocking out Prescott completely.
            Wolfe had turned to make sure Penelope was out as well; however, upon turning around, he found that Penelope was hurriedly limping her way to the front door. Wolfe began running towards the front door as Penelope opened it and crossed the threshold. However, she found that her way was blocked by a teenager with long, midnight black hair and dressed casually. She flashed a quick smile before she punched Penelope once in the face, followed by a kick to her abdomen that knocked the wind out of her lungs and made her knees buckle. When Penelope was on her knees, the new girl sent a kick to Penelope's face, and the thief of the Phantom's Frame robbery was left unconscious.
            "I leave for a few days, and you get your very own case to investigate John?" the girl asked exasperatedly.
            "Sorry Anna!" Wolfe apologized, taking out handcuffs as he did so that he had received from his father to handcuff Prescott. "I would've asked you to help me, but I knew you wouldn't return to Rizal Grove until tonight, and I was caught with my name on the line."
            "At least it's over now," Anna stated.
            "It's a shame too," Wolfe commented. "I was going to surprise you with a dinner at Las Islas. Well, I guess I can't do that now."
            "You could take me tomorrow," Anna suggested.
            "I suppose," Wolfe agreed as RCPD police officers began entering the home.
            While Wolfe and Anna looked at Prescott and Penelope being led away in RCPD squad cars, Inspector Alex walked up to the two and said, "I don't even want to consider the legality of what you two just did. Then again, it's a good thing you two aren't RCPD officers, so I guess I shouldn't really have to wonder that."
            "In other words, you don't want that to reflect badly on the RCPD," Wolfe said.
            "Well John, we're a police department, not vigilantes," Inspector Alex said. "Well, I'll just process these two, then I'll meet you at home." He walked away from the home and got in his car, driving off for RCPD headquarters.
            As Inspector Alex's car drove off into the night, Wolfe asked, "Hey Anna, how'd you even hear of this case?"
            Anna replied, "Your dad informed my dad as soon as we landed. He said that you had snuck off to confront Penelope and Prescott at their safe house. It's a good thing we've been taking martial arts for years. Otherwise, things could've gotten ugly." Following this, she asked, "What could've motivated her to frame you, anyway?"
            "Simple," Wolfe replied. "Love. In its beauty, it helped Prescott. It its darkness, it almost got me arrested. It's a shame, really. I heard what they said to each other. I almost didn't want to take them down. But then I remembered the cold, hard truth: Penelope and Prescott committed a crime. And for crime, there must be justice. It's unfortunate that such a beautiful thing had to beget such a dreadful consequence. But there's no changing it now. There's two sides to everything; even love."
            Wolfe then began to walk away, Anna following him. Side by side, they walked in silence, before they subconsciously decided to begin going to their homes. As Wolfe and Anna walked, they looked up at the moon of the young night, half shining in light, and half shadowed in darkness.

            Russell DuCarte paced back and forth in front of the locker he shared with his good friend, Lena. Wearing the Rizal Academy standard, he held his hands behind his back as his mind worked like a hamster on his wheel.
            Engrossed in thought, Russell did not hear Lena call out to him multiple times. When she had had enough, Lena gave Russell a quick blow to the head, interrupting his thought process.
            "Owww!" Russell whined, turning around to face Lena.
            "Russell, that's getting annoying," she sassily commented. "If you're that bothered, why don't you ask Wolfe to help you?"
            The blonde boy opened his mouth, as if to offer a counter-argument, but immediately closed it, thinking better of it. He nodded and, following her advice, went off to find his friend. Having an idea of where the paradoxical detective could be, he proceeded to the second floor and down the main hallway of that floor, assuming that he was spending the Monday afternoon at the school's anime club. However, after he had passed by two attractive girls, he saw his friend inside an empty science classroom, placing his cell phone in his pocket.
            "Figures she doesn't answer her phone... Guess I'll just have to text her later," Russell heard Wolfe mutter to himself. Russell observed that there was something different about his friend. Aside from the fact that Wolfe wasn't wearing the Rizal Academy uniform- opting instead to wear dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a dark jacket- he saw that Wolfe didn't exude the cool, friendly aura he was known for; instead, it was hostile and agitated, an occurrence that Russell had observed in only a past case that came to be known as the "Chris Thompson Affair."
            "Bro, everything alright?" Russell asked cautiously.
            "Huh? What? Oh, Rus. Yeah, I'm fine," Wolfe answered. "Anyway, what's up?"
            "I need your help with something," Russell began. "This is a mystery only someone like you can solve."
            "Let me guess: it's the girl at that café we always hang out at, right?" Wolfe asked with a raised eyebrow.
            "Ok, how in the world did you know that?" Russell inquired, suspicious.
            "Lena texted me a few seconds before you got here," Wolfe replied with a smile. "Unfortunately, I can't help you with that- not right now, at least. I've got my own personal matters to deal with, and now a case on top of that. I can, however, recommend someone else to help you."
            Wolfe proceeded past Russell, forcing the latter to follow him. They walked back the way Russell came, until they turned a corner and emerged into a section that joined the main hallway and a side one, as well as containing the central staircase and an elevator shaft. In that area, perpendicular to a series of large windows and pushed up against a wall, were a number of wooden benches. Upon one of them was a youth with shaggy black hair, wearing the Rizal Academy uniform.
            Wolfe and Russell stopped before the individual. "Yo David!" Wolfe greeted.
            "Oh, hey guys!" David responded. "What's up?"
            "I was hoping you could do Rus a favor," Wolfe began. "Our Kaibro's got some lady trouble. Normally, I'd help him out, but I'm busy right now, so I'd like to hand it off to you, the son of Police Chief Lorenzo. After all, your deductive abilities are better than mine."
            "But you know I don't like to do that kind of stuff," David replied. "Besides, if it's a crime, shouldn't you hand this over to the RCPD?"
            "It's not a crime," Russell assured him.
            "C'mon David. Please? You still owe me for the 'De la Cruz Debacle.'"
            David closed his eyes at the name. "Alright, fine. Russell, let's get this over with." He got up and gestured at Russell to lead on. Russell began walking towards the central staircase, David in tow.
            "Have fun guys," Wolfe called out to them.
            With Russell leading the way, the two boys descended the staircase and walked through the main lobby, exiting the building and emerging into the bright sunshine of the Monday afternoon. They continued on their path, marching through the Rizal Academy gardens and entering the parking lot. After they had located Russell's car, they entered it and drove off towards the Entertainment District.
            On the way, Russell explained the details of his dilemma. "You see, after Angela and I broke up, I've been noticing that this girl who works at our favorite café's been giving me... signals. At the time, I couldn't really deal with it, but now, I'm not so sure. I mean, she's attractive and all, but I wanna know if she's seriously interested before I do anything."
            "So basically, you want me to tell you if she is?" David asked.
            "Pretty much," Russell replied, his eyes on the road.
            "Good. This'll be easy then," David stated. After their quick exchange, the two boys remained silent as they made their way to their destination. When they had finally arrived at the café, Russell parked his car in a nearby parking lot and once more led the way, entering the cool café with David right behind him.
            The café was sparsely filled, which was unusual for the place at that time of day. Only two tables had customers, while over at the counter, the staff members looked absolutely bored. Russell quickly identified the suspect staffer: a brunette with long hair in a ponytail and fair skin, playing with her apron as she waited for a customer to approach.
            "Is that her?" David asked Russell, following the path of the latter's eyes. He nodded. "Alright. I have an idea."
            "What?" Russell inquired.
            "We ask her to have coffee with us," David replied with a wink. After seeing Russell's mortified expression, he proceeded to the counter and made eye contact with the girl to signal her to attend to them.
            "Hi! What'll you be having?" she said brightly to David.
            "Yeah, can I please have two lattes?" David replied. "Also, I gotta be honest with you: see my friend over there?" He pointed at Russell, who stood awkwardly and appeared to be getting more nervous by the minute. She nodded. "He wanted to know if you wanted to have some coffee with us."

      The girl thought it over for a moment. "Well, I'm not really supposed to... but I guess I could take my break right now.

      David gave a genial smile. He paid for the two drinks, and then proceeded to wait with Russell at an empty table. A few minutes later, the girl brought the three of them their drinks. They thanked her, and the three of them spent the next few moments in silence as they sipped their beverages, none daring to break the silence.
            While they drank their coffee, David observed the girl. Russell saw this and noted the similarity between what David was doing, and what his friend Wolfe had done with such regularity since their freshman year. He was amazed, though, at how much faster David's eyes scanned certain aspects of the girl's body; he estimated that David must have spent at least a fraction of a second less on- as Wolfe put it- "detailing" than Wolfe himself.
            When they were done, Russell was about to open his mouth when a voice from the counter said, "Maria! Your break's up! C'mon and help us- the rush is about to start!"
            Both Russell and Maria, who were shocked by the suddenness of the voice, looked sad in response to the command. She stood up and left, her gaze lingering slightly on the boys.
            After she had left their sight, Russell immediately turned to David. With a coolness that masked a desperate eagerness, he asked, "So David: what do you think?"
            David said nothing, his expression stony. Instead, he got up and said, "Sorry Russell, but I gotta go. I've got something else to attend to. I'll see ya tomorrow; we're having a reunion, right?"
            "Yeah..." Russell trailed off, disappointed at the lack of an answer. David gave him a fist bump and then walked past him. He stopped for a moment in front of the clear glass door that led outside, and Russell thought he could see David's mouth move- though whether it was a smile or a frown, he could not determine. Nevertheless, the son of the RCPD's police chief left, and Russell slowly banged his head on the café table.
            He only stayed for a few more minutes. When he decided that he should leave, Russell made sure he had all his things and left the café, walking towards his car. It would be a few minutes before he reached his house at the far end of Rizal Grove, and the sun was beginning to set. He hurried to his car's driver seat, and drove off after making sure all the pre-driving matters were taken care of.
            Traffic was light, but he still arrived at his house when the night had fallen. He saw that the lights of his house were off; he figured he was the first to arrive, since his family's other vehicles weren't parked at and around the driveway. He casually walked up to his house and opened the front door, humming a cheerful tune to get his mind off of David Lorenzo's refusal to answer. When he had gotten inside, he tried turning on the lights, only to find that they failed to turn on. As he began to wonder what was going on, Russell recognized in the darkness of his home's interior the outline of a man. He would've liked to identify more, but that was all he could do.
            "You're Russell DuCarte, aren't ya?" the man asked in a gruff voice. "You're a friend of that kid, aren't ya? The 'Detective of Rizal Academy,' John San Miguel? The punk calling himself 'Wolfe?'"
            "And so what if I am?" Russell asked cautiously. He was prepared to run; he was pretty fast, and was confident he could hide himself and get help if the situation turned hostile.
            The man chuckled and launched a newspaper at Russell's feet. He took one look at the dated paper, and was shocked by the headline. As he looked up, the man had closed the distance between them and was choking Russell with one hand.
            Russell looked at the face of the man. As he looked at the face, he saw one last thing before he passed out: a nefarious smile.

            The sound of a rooster's call echoed through the morning air, awakening many inhabitants of Rizal Grove. One of these inhabitants was a girl with long, dark hair, who slept in a room that was a cool shade of blue. The sun's rays shone on posters of various pop groups, which were plastered on the walls, as wells as a small flat screen TV, which was situated upon an onyx stand across from a small bed. She yawned as she sat up on her bed, stretching her arms. Remembering what her schedule was for that day, she quickly went through her morning routine, dressing in a white shirt and jeans. After the hour she had spent, which included breakfast, she left her home and walked past the house of her friend, John "Wolfe" San Miguel, on her way to Rizal Grove Park.
            Anna León smiled at finally having an opportunity to have a girls' day out with her friends Caitlin Aquino, Renee Martinez, and Mary Gold. Due to the increasing workload of their Senior year, they didn't have much time to socialize with anyone, as they had to finish their college applications and the like. However, thanks to the off day that Rizal Academy had that day, the girls decided to have some fun in the sun. They were going to invite others, but they were all otherwise preoccupied.
            When she had arrived at Rizal Grove Park, she found that everyone else had arrived: the modestly dressed Caitlin, which concealed her family's wealth; the smartly dressed Renee, always looking nice for the situation; and the comfortably dressed Mary, who always had a casual demeanor that was reflected in her clothes. She walked over to her friends and exchanged greetings with each of them.
            After they had settled, they tried to plan out the rest of their day. While they all socialized as every other teenager did, they usually left any plans making to Wolfe, who was the self-appointed group organizer. His management skills, they realized, were great, and they soon appreciated how quickly he could come up with a thorough plan for their day. Nevertheless, after much deliberation, they decided upon visiting the local mall.
            The girls went over to the street and called for two tricycles- the motorcycle-and-passenger-compartment taxis of the Philippines- to pull over. They paired up and took to the tricycles, each telling their friendly, if somewhat shabby looking, driver to bring them to Rizal City Mall in the Entertainment District. Nodding, the drivers took off, bringing their charges to their destination.
            After a few minutes of catching up in the tricycles, the girls looked out to see that they had entered the Entertainment District and were approaching the towering structure that overshadowed many of the other stores within the district: Rizal City Mall. Their transports stopped outside the giant building, and the girls paid their drivers and thanked them for their service. After the drivers had left, the four of them quickly strode through the intensifying heat of the morning and entered the cool shade that was a precursor to the air conditioned interior of the mall. They joined a line of morning mall-goers and proceeded through the segregated security check, quickly being cleared to enter by a female guard.
            Having arrived at their destination, they decided to just sweep through the mall. None of them really considered buying anything, though they did have money on them in case they really wanted to get something. They bypassed the supermarket entrance and the arcade across the way, proceeding first to the central hall so that they could decide which wing to look through first. After making their pick, they began walking down the hallway towards the far end, where a set of escalators awaited them. Along the way, they looked through the displays of various jewelry shops and clothing stores, and more than once entering these rooms just to see what else lay within the attractive joints. They sampled clothes from all different stores, ranging from chic shops to a costume store, where they had gotten a laugh out of the skeletons, spiders, and other items within.
            After they had gone over the ground floor, they took the escalators to the second floor, where they did the same with the various shoe stores and makeup shops. Under Renee's advice, they walked into a clothing store near the food court, where they spent more than a few minutes flirting with the male staffers. Finally, around lunch, they decided to get something to eat, as their stomachs began to growl.
            They exited the store where they had flirted with the male staffers, and were on their way to the food court, which was becoming filled to the brim with hungry mall-goers. They were in a tight group, enjoying themselves and laughing at jokes they bandied amongst themselves. It was due to this that they weren't paying any attention to where they were going and accidentally ran into a young man, knocking him over. The encounter roused them temporarily from their merriment, and they began to apologize. They saw that he wore a hoodie, khakis, and loafers. As the young man quickly got up, they saw a small, black frame that could only belong to a pair of glasses. However, due to the hoodie, they weren't able to see much else of his face, so that they couldn't really recognize their victim. After apologizing numerous times, the young man quickly shook his head, indicating that he was fine, and walked past them. The girls looked after him for a few more seconds, then turned away to continue to the food court, Anna being the last to turn as she had a suspicious feeling about the young man. However, she shrugged her shoulders and joined her friends in searching for a lunch table.

-X-

      The young man, after a small amount of time, turned around to look at the group of girls walking away. He pulled down his hood to reveal semi-spiky jet-black hair, and took off his glasses to reveal cold, brown eyes. They softened, however, as John "Wolfe" San Miguel flashed a quick smile.
            Nice to see they're enjoying themselves... Wolfe thought to himself. I probably should be too. But I've got other matters to attend to... He returned his glasses to his face and pulled his hood up again, once more concealing his face as he scanned the crowd for his target: Eric Gabriél.

-X-

      After a few minutes had passed, the girls, who had split up to each get their own lunch, reunited at a small marble-colored table. Anna had gotten a small array of Filipino meat and, of course, rice, while Caitlin had purchased a bento of assorted sushi, Mary a small wrap and a fresh apple, and Renee a slice of cheese pizza. While the others each had a cup of soda, Mary stuck to a bottle of juice.   

      As they ate their lunches, the girls talked of various subjects: their increasing workload as Seniors of Rizal Academy, the news circulating around the Philippines, and, with great detail and some annoyance, the various cases that they were dragged into by their peculiar pal, the paradoxical detective John "Wolfe" San Miguel, who was beginning to be known also as the "savior of Rizal Academy's Homecoming dance", as well as the "Detective of Rizal Academy." On the subject of the Homecoming dance case, which had not occurred more than a few weeks before, they would not discuss in respect to the parties most heavily involved; of other cases, however, such as the "False Son Case" and the "Case of the Man with Aphasia," they shared and laughed about.
            When they had finished their storytelling, they decided to go for another round of mall exploration. They quickly ate whatever was left of their lunches, threw out the trash, recycled what they could, and left the food court. They strolled about the mall, visiting stores that caught their eye, and occasionally buying clothes if they could afford it. Bags began to appear, being grasped by the girls as they walked from store to store. The bags weren't copious, but it did allow them to blend in with the crowd of shoppers.
            The girls were clearly enjoying themselves. They were having so much fun that they didn't realize what time it was. The afternoon was growing old, but none of them noticed it until they saw a clock within a clothing store indicate the time. Deciding that the store would be their last for the day, they were preparing to leave when a gang of boys entered the store. The leader of the gang had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and sneakily strolled up to the counter. When he had reached the lady manning the register, he suddenly pulled out a switchblade from his jacket and barked at the lady to hand over all the money in the register. The woman, terrified, shielded her face and cowered behind the counter; the boy, getting impatient, jumped the counter and put the blade to the woman, yelling expletives at her and ordering her once more to hand over all the money in the register. The other boys, meanwhile, fanned out into the store, menacing the other shoppers.

      To most other teenagers, the situation that faced them would be a cause for panic. But Anna León and her friends had seen their fair share of danger, and were quite calm about the attempted robbery. In fact, they all began to plan out their own little strategy for apprehending the robbers. They quickly deliberated a plan amongst themselves, and after forming their plot, went their separate ways to put it into action.
            Meanwhile, the leader continued to threaten the lady, who was too terrified to open the register. He began to push the tip of the blade into the lady's skin, a small amount of blood seeping out of the lady's right hand where the boy pushed the blade. The woman began to shriek, a noise that startled everyone in the store, and got the attention of mall-goers outside the shop. A curious head poked in and recognized the situation, and dashed out screaming for the mall guards before any of the gang members could do anything about it.
            Anna realized that they had to do something before the situation got out of hand. Deciding that it was time to put their plan into motion, she strode up to the gang leader and put her hand on his shoulder, applying pressure. The gang leader quickly turned around, cutting the air where Anna's abdomen was with his switchblade as the latter swiftly dodged the incoming swipe. The leader took a menacing stance, playing with his switchblade as Anna, trained in the same martial arts as Wolfe, took a defensive stance.
            The sudden confrontation had attracted the attention of the other gang members, which was all that the other girls needed. Caitlin pushed a row of boxes and a rack of coats on top of one of them, knocking him over and causing a huge mess as clothes, shoes, and coats flew through the air and sprawled all over the floor. At the same time Mary, who had hidden herself within a circular coat rack near another gang member, used the distraction to jump out and surprise the boy, beating him with her fists before he had a chance to respond. Finally, Renee positioned herself behind the final gang member, tapped him on the shoulder to get him to turn around, delivered a hard slap to his face, kicked him swiftly to the groin, and ran out as the last gang member chased her. With the damage she caused, she easily outpaced her pursuer, and was able to lead him directly into a crowd of security guards, who were responding to the threat within the store.
            Back in the store, the standoff between Anna and the gang leader was all that remained of the hostilities. There was a tense silence that followed the fall of the other gang members. Sweat began to drip down the gang leader's face as his opponent remained calm. Though she was a bit scared on the inside, she had learned to be calm in the face of danger; after all, he had done it too many times.
            When the silence and the standoff became unbearable, the gang leader lunged forward with his switchblade, intending to stab Anna. She recognized the attack and quickly formulated a counterattack. As the blade neared, she sidestepped to her right, grabbed onto the attacker's wrist with her left hand, and delivered a karate chop to the attacker's arm with her right. The blow, much more powerful than the leader expected, forced him to relinquish his weapon, and Anna used a judo flip to bring the gang leader to the floor. She stood over him as guards entered the store, finding a mess of clothes, a terrified store clerk, three ruffians on the floor, and three girls savoring their victory.
            A few minutes later, Renee had reunited with her friends, and they quickly gave the story to one of the security guards. As they led the hooligans away, the four girls exchanged high fives and walked out of the mall, feeling great thanks to a fun day and a good deed. They decided to walk for a bit, and had gone a ways down Entertainment Avenue, when they saw an angry mob chase a small group of teenagers. Though they were intrigued, they shrugged it off and determined that they had had enough excitement for one day, as they walked down the street with smiles on their faces.

            A small breeze blew through the hair of Heather Urbanski, cooling down the senior as she paused for a moment from her duties of helping the poor. It was a sunny Tuesday, just past noon, and Heather, sweating slightly from the oppression of the sun's rays, quickly moved onwards, wandering Rizal City's "Slum District," an unfortunately underdeveloped portion of the city in between the Financial District and the Entertainment District. She, along with her friends in Rizal Academy's night ministry "RANMSO," or "Rizal Academy Night Ministry & Service Organization," were having an earlier than normal service session, helping feed and comfort the poor in the daytime, taking advantage of Rizal Academy's off-day. They were joined as well by Steven Princeton, one of the heads of Aguinaldo High's service team, and a few other members, who wanted to do the same, opting to miss a day of school in order to do so.
            Originally, the participation of Aguinaldo High was a surprise to Heather and RANMSO; after all, not many people in Rizal Academy knew about RANSMO’s' unusual service session, and even fewer were actually involved. So when Steven Princeton showed up in front of Rizal Academy that morning with his own set of volunteers, RANMSO was indeed surprised, but grateful and accepted their aid nonetheless.
            As Heather continued to walk the streets, Steven, who was walking with her, said, "Y'know, I never thought I'd get this much satisfaction out of something like this."
            "What do you mean?" she asked him, still walking and looking for people. She figured that they were probably hiding in the shade somewhere, but she wanted to make sure none were left out in the sun.
            "Well, I always wanted to help out the poor and homeless. I didn't want to be like my brother, who always thought of himself. But I never really knew how I could help out. I mean, being one of the richest families of Rizal City does have its perks, but because of that, I have certain... expectations. Helping those in need never looked genuine if I did it- it would always be seen as a publicity stunt, or that I was doing it for some sort of credit. And I didn't want that. That's why I never attracted too much attention when I went to soup kitchens in the past. That's why I did what I did, and was challenged and beaten by Wolfe for that. I genuinely wanted to help, but I couldn't as the heir to the Princeton fortune.
            "But that all changed when I was introduced to this idea. When I learned that I could do something as simple as this, it changed my life. It was a bigger eye-opener than I expected. And I can't thank you and Wolfe enough for that."
            "Well, my part I know," Heather said with a smile. "But what did Wolfe do? I mean, I know he's wanted to join us at RANMSO for some time, but he's always too busy with his cases to ever be able to do that. How did Wolfe help you?"
            "He helped me in two ways," Steven clarified. "First, he beat me in our showdown. In that showdown, he first introduced the idea of something like this to me, as an alternative means to helping the poor. But he also helped me learn something: not to care what others think, and just do what I feel I need to do. He said something like that after contacting me when he got back from his Kairos retreat anyway."
            "Is that so? Well, that just gets me more excited for Kairos," Heather commented. "And doing this really is satisfying, don't you think? You wouldn't really think so, but actually doing this every week... it brings a kind of happiness you just can't have otherwise. That's why I like to do it, and that's why it's important to me. Grades are, of course, important too, but I don't do this for credits or anything like that- I do this because I like it."
            Steven nodded in silent agreement. They continued on their path, and as they tried to find any homeless persons, Heather privately thought to herself how her other friends were doing.

-X-

      The line stretched long, but was getting shorter as Lily Bays and Brynna Reyes helped other RANMSO volunteers with serving the hungry at the Rizal Grove Soup Kitchen. Though they would rather spend the day relaxing, they were asked by Heather to help RANMSO, and, knowing how important RANMSO was to their friend, they quickly acquiesced.
            Lily rolled her head around as she began to feel a tightness in her deltoids. Brynna, serving out soup with a ladle, noticed her friend's action and asked, "Hey, you alright?"
            "Yeah, my muscles are just stiffening from the work," Lily replied, handing out biscuits.
            "You know what? Let's take a quick break," Brynna asked. Lily tried to object, but Brynna had already gone to the head RANMSO representative before Lily could even open her mouth. When she came back smiling, Lily just shook her head and followed Brynna to a small staff room.
            Since the soup kitchen was understaffed that day, Lily and Brynna found that they were alone in the room. Lily took a seat at one of the empty round tables, and Brynna positioned herself behind Lily, giving her a quick backrub.
            "Oh," Lily sighed. "Thanks Brynna- I needed that."
            "No problem!" Brynna replied brightly, taking a seat opposite from Lily. "Hey Lily, were you asked to help out with the unpacking earlier? I wanted to know because when I got here, you were already working and they told me to help unpack stuff."
            "Then why weren't you helping them unpack items?" Lily asked.
            "Because I told them I didn't want too..."
            "Of course. Nah, they didn't ask me. Though I think they did ask a few others to."
            "Oh. Well, serving food with you is funner anyway!"
            "Serving food is generally better than just unpacking boxes."
            They were silent for a while as they just focused on their breathing, letting the stress flow out from them. When they had finally relaxed, the red head asked, "Brynna, have you seen that Korean drama I told you about?"
            "The new one?" Brynna replied, nearly squealing with delight. "It's so good!"
            "I know! I mean, I don't really like the main character, but other than him, I think that the plot's fantastic."
            "But what about all the other cute guys?" Brynna countered. "They are all just sooo cute!"
            As Lily and Brynna continued their conversation, little did they suspect that it would take them a half hour before they remembered that they had to serve lunch. What awaited them were a non-existent line and a furious RANMSO representative. As they apologized and vowed to help with the clean up, they wondered what time they would be able to leave.

-X-

      The sun was beginning to set, or so Abigail Gold observed from her seat outside of Rizal Grove Elementary School. Though she initially planned on staying at home and enjoying a relaxing day re-watching her favorite anime- the new season wouldn't begin until January 25th, exactly two months away- she was instead asked by a friend to tutor fourth graders in her place. And though she was extremely reluctant, she gave in after much pleading.
            She had reported to Rizal Grove Elementary's after school tutoring program at the sound of the final bell, and had her hands full rotating from one student to the next, helping them in a range of subjects from grammar to math. Abigail didn't get too many breaks- and the breaks she received were too short to really be called breaks- but she didn't mind. She liked working with the little kids, and the kids seemed to be enjoying her presence as well. While the work was frustrating, as it always is for a young student with a difficult problem, their "Ate Abs" helped make it fun and easier. And though they only knew each other for a day, Abigail began considering volunteering at the afterschool program more often.
            After she had noted the time of day, Abigail returned her attention to her current charge, whom, she found, had completed his homework. After giving him a high five and a bright smile, she let him leave and checked her phone, just in time to receive a call from her friend, John "Wolfe" San Miguel. Though she would normally let it go to voicemail- to his great annoyance- she decided to pick up. Before she could even say a word, however, she heard him ask in a cold voice, "Are you busy right now?"
            "No..." she trailed off, looking around her to see that most of the children had already left the program.
            "Good. I need your help with a case I'm working on," Wolfe said from the other end of the line. "An angry mob is chasing a group of seniors away from Aguinaldo High. I bet they'll be going in circles around the Educational District, the Entertainment District, and everywhere in between. I'm afraid that the mob might rip the criminals to shreds, so I need you to call everyone you can who are free to help save the criminals."
            "Ok, first off, what did you do now? Second, what do you mean save the criminals?"
            "I'll explain that later. For now, just assemble the Team- or at least, everyone who can help. I'm going to go follow the mob and monitor how dangerously close they are to the criminals. Call me back when you have everyone."
            "Alright," she confirmed. He hung up on her, and she let out a long sigh before going through her contacts. She called numerous numbers, but most did not pick up. Not even her own twin sister answered- though that in of itself wasn't much of a shock. She was, however, successful in recruiting Heather Urbanski, Lily Bays, and Brynna Reyes to their cause. With the small team she now had, she called Wolfe back. When he answered, he was evidently running, as she could hear him pant in between fragmented sentences.
            "So... you only got... three others...?" Wolfe asked, still on the move.
            "Yeah, that's everyone who answered," Abigail replied.
            "O...k... that'll still... do it... Jeez, I... need to... work on... my... conditioning!" he yelled the last word. She waited a few minutes for him to regain his breath, then heard him say, "Alright, so where was I? Oh yeah, so there's four of you. That'll still do. If my conjecture is correct, they'll be passing by Rizal Academy shortly. Abs, I need you to get the team to our school. When they see about six or seven Aguinaldo High Seniors- they'll be the ones with the disheveled appearances- tell them to help you direct the seniors to the old part of Rizal Grove. Take side streets to minimize the chances that I don't accidentally lead the mob towards you guys. Lead the seniors to 372 Roxas Drive. It's an old abandoned house, but for today, it'll be inhabited by a few adults. Let them take care of the seniors when you get there. Good luck, and thanks again!"
            After Wolfe hung up, she texted her friends the instructions Wolfe gave her, and they agreed to meet at Rizal Academy. The light of the day was fading quickly, but Abigail and the others had met up with lots of light left. They quickly exchanged greetings, and then waited for the suspect seniors to arrive. The wait wasn't long, however, as they saw a group of six or seven teenagers round the far corner and run down the street. Figuring that they must be the criminals of Wolfe's case, the team took to the street to block the progress of the other seniors.
            "Get out of our way!" one of them barked. He appeared to be leading them, and had an image of a white cross with the letter 'A' emblazoned on it on his right arm. "Do you want us to die?"
            "We're here to help, prick," Abigail replied. "Just shut up and follow us." They made a quick formation, with Abigail in the front, Lily and Brynna on either side of the gang, and Heather bringing up the rear. When they were all set to go, Abigail led the way, knowing a route that would take them to their target location.
            The small convoy utilized various side roads, as Wolfe had asked. The advice turned out to be most prudent, as they often had to stop midway through a side street to let the rumble of an angry mob- being directed by none other than Wolfe- stampede past them on a main road. The hairs on the back of their necks raised every time this occurred, and more than once their hearts beat a little bit stronger than they normally would. Whenever the fearsome sight passed, they let out sighs of relief, and continued on their way.
            Due to the cautious nature of their travel, it took twice the normal amount of time it would take to reach their destination. The sun's rays had all but disappeared, and they were beginning to rely on the sparse street lamps' illumination to keep them on the right path, as they stuck to the walls of yards and stayed true to the shadows, all to avoid detection.
            Finally, they had reached the house that Wolfe asked the team to bring the criminals to. The convoy stopped, and Abigail told the leader of the criminals, "Go inside. You should be safe in there."
            "We better be..." the leader threatened. Abigail wasn't scared- not even slightly. Like everyone else who was, fortunately or unfortunately, tangled up in more than one of Wolfe's cases in the past, she learned how to handle certain dangers. To her, the threat of a fellow Senior wasn't all too threatening; besides, even though they were outnumbered, Brynna's martial arts would have given them an edge in a fight anyway.
            The leader gestured at his cohorts, and they moved past Abigail and into the house. It looked old and abandoned, but as long as they kept the lights off and laid low within it for a few hours, they would be able to escape the wrath of the mob and hopefully flee Rizal City. No sooner had the door shut behind the last Society member, however, when the lights suddenly came to life, blinding the group of Seniors. As they shielded their eyes, they saw an imposing man at the center of a ring of RCPD officers.
            "Ah, so you're the ones my boy was after today," the man commented. "He's getting better; I have to give him that."
            "Who-who are you guys?" the leader stammered.
            "We're RCPD Unit 7. Son, we've got a warrant for you arrest, as well as those friends of yours." The man gestured at the other bewildered teenagers.
            "A-arrest? For what?"
            "For vandalism, theft, breaking and entering, and multiple death threats."
            "Baloney! You have no proof we ever did any of that stuff!"
            "Actually, we do." The man, using a gloved hand, held up a crumpled white note, which immediately pierced the hearts of the teenagers with fear. "Not a smart idea to confess to your crimes in a note you're just going to leave anywhere, now is it?"
            Knowing that it was all over, the teenagers all turned around as officers moved forward with handcuffs, and the man in the middle read them their Miranda rights.
            Outside the house, the team waited around for something happened, but when nothing did, they decided to call it a day and leave. As they were doing so, they saw the outline of a young man walk forward into a street lamp's light. Slowly, the figure moved forward, until Wolfe eventually reached his friends, sweat drenching his face and clothes.
            "So... did my... dad... arrest them...?" he panted.
            "He's in there?" Heather asked.
            "Yeah. Didn't I tell you that?"
            "Not expressly," Abigail reminded Wolfe.
            "Oh, I didn't? Whoops. Sorry... about... that..."
            With those last few words, Wolfe fell down, face forward, collapsing from exhaustion. His friends quickly picked him up and, after making sure he had just passed out, picked his body up dragged him between Lily and Heather, who were the closest in height to him. And so, as the stars sparkled and the moon shone overhead, the four girls left for their homes, making sure to drop off the unconscious detective at his house first. It wasn't a truly relaxing day; then again, they never really expected it to be. And they smiled as an owl hooted far off in the distance, its cry echoing through the night air.

            "Anna! I got it! I'm on my way!" John "Wolfe" San Miguel laughed into his phone
            "Are you sure, because you said that half an hour ago! Me and the others are getting bored, John!" his friend sassily replied.
            "I already said I'm sorry! I told you, I was watching a Bacharu Tantei Toshiro marathon, and-"
            "I don't need to hear it, John. Just hurry up!"
            She hung up, and, smiling, Wolfe returned to the phone to his pocket. Dressed in bright clothes, he walked down a street in the older parts of Rizal Grove. The first semester of his senior year had finally ended, and he wanted to celebrate by hanging out with his friends. They hadn't been able to do much of it in the past few months; he was hoping to change that today.
            He was excited by the possibilities that opened up to them. It made him happy and, combined with the vanishing of the stress that he had been dealing with in the past few weeks, caused him to hum a cheerful tune. It wasn't anything specific- just a tune that one sings when they're happy.
            Walking by a few other residents, he would wave hello and give them a genial smile. They returned the gestures, knowing the boy since his childhood. He didn't necessarily know those he waved at, but they were still neighbors.
            Finally, Wolfe spotted a street sign that bore the name "Roxas Drive." He began to get curious as to what his friends had in store. His mind considered many possibilities, from reasonable ones to impossible ones. He was giddy with excitement, and slowly approached 372 Roxas Drive.
            A sudden blast erupted from the abandoned house, the house where Wolfe's closest friends were waiting. A wave of heat escaped the confines of the home, and a shockwave shook the house, shattered the windows, and knocked Wolfe backwards, even though he was only halfway up the street. The entire roof had been blown away, and fire began to engulf not only the house where the blast emanated from, but also a few nearby houses that were also abandoned. Smoke rose and began to obscure the cheery blue skies, and Wolfe, recovering from the shockwave, opened his eyes to see a wall of fire rise to the heavens, giving a malicious red hue to the forefront of the black smoke.
            Wolfe couldn't respond at first. He was dazed and confused, and didn't really know how to react. It was like the one time he received a roundhouse kick from his father during a training session when he refused to wear protective training gear. He was an arrogant freshman then, and waking up from the hospital an hour later taught him to wear protective training gear. However, unlike that time, he felt worse. Much worse.
            When he was finally able to collect his senses, he recognized what the ruined house and the wall of fire meant. Slowly, he began to get up, though his body ached and pained. "No..." he softly moaned. He worked his way to all fours, then to one knee. "No..." he repeated. He was crouching now, and was slowly drawing himself to his full height. Stumbling forward, he muttered the same words over and over, until the strength returned to his voice, and he began to yell, "NO!"
            Worried onlookers saw the blaze. Some took out their phones and called friends, family, and the fire department; others just gaped in awe. When they saw that there was a teenager stumbling towards the fire, a man rushed forward to grab him before he got any closer. He restrained Wolfe, though in Wolfe's frenzied state, Wolfe would not be stopped easily.
            "NO!" he continued to yell. One thought, one mind numbing fear grasped him. A sense of disbelief began to cloud his mind, and he struggled with all his might to get to the blaze, to see if his friends were inside, to save them if he could. "NO!" his voice yelled in anguish. More men rushed in to stop him. He began to go berserk, but finally stopped, trembled, and sank to his knees. After a while, the men let go, and looked at the broken boy in sympathy.
            "No..." he sobbed. Tears fell, and then he did, his head hitting the cold asphalt, his energy gone.

-X-

      "I did as you asked," a boy said.
            "Good," a man replied.

-X-

      And now, for the latest developments on the explosion at Roxas Drive. The Rizal City Fire Department, after working for hours to contain the mighty blaze that spread throughout the neighborhood, setting numerous houses on fire, have finally extinguished all the flames. Though many residents were evacuated to safety with no injuries, one boy, 17 year old John San Miguel, has been admitted to Rizal City General Hospital for shock. Sources say that the boy was near the epicenter of the fire, though for what reason, authorities have yet to determine. The Rizal City Police Department is currently investigating the explosion; no word has arrived yet...

-X-

      "How many were there?" a man asked.
            "Ten," a boy answered.
            "Excellent."

-X-

      They can't be dead... They can't be.
            They weren't in there. Yeah, that must be it. They weren't in there.
            No, this is all just a dream. I'm going to wake up in a few minutes in my bed at my house, and it'll all be a dream.
            It has to be a dream. It has to be. Because they can't be dead.
            Not them. Not anyone, but especially not them. Oh God, they can't be dead.

      Please.

-X-

      "Is he awake yet?" a man inquired.
            "He just has, sir," a boy replied.
            "Perfect."

-X-

      This evening's top news: the explosion at Roxas Drive. It has been several days now since the explosion that began at 372 Roxas Drive, and authorities have mostly concluded their investigations. According to sources, they have determined that a very powerful bomb with a high incendiary factor must have been placed within the home, probably at the center of the house. The bomb has not been linked to any previous arsonists, nor do authorities believe that this was a terrorist attack. However, a suspect has yet to be found.
            Furthermore, the 17 year old who was sent to Rizal City General Hospital for shock immediately after the fire started, John San Miguel, has awoken from a medicine-induced coma. According to his testimony, he was on his way to meet with several of his friends, who were within the home for reasons yet unknown. Authorities have been able to confirm most of his story, as ten severely burnt bodies had been found in the house's basement. They are, thus far, unidentifiable, though authorities have confirmed that they are one male and nine female. The Rizal City Police Department is currently trying to identify the bodies. We will bring you more developments as they come along.

-X-

      Breaking news: the ten bodies that were found at 372 Roxas Drive after the explosion have just been identified, sources confirm. Authorities report that the male is 18 year old David Lorenzo, the second son of Rizal City Police Department Chief Arnel Lorenzo. The females are as follows: 18 year old Anna León; 18 year old twins Abigail and Mary Gold; 18 year old Lily Bays; 18 year old Heather Urbanski; 18 year old Brynna Reyes; 18 year old Caitlin Aquino; 18 year old Valerie Yang; and finally, 18 year old Renee Martinez. The families have been contacted, and funeral arrangements have all been made.
        No suspects have thus far been named for the explosion, and no motive has yet been determined.

-X-

            Rain splattered against the window. The multitude of drops beat in a rhythmic and almost soothing tone. Continuous, endless, unceasing.
            Coinciding with the tranquil harmony of the rain were the beeps of the machines, monitoring the vital signs of the patient. It created an odd symphony, calming and hypnotic. One could get lost in listening to the sounds of the rain and machines. In fact, one could forget all thought and feeling.
            The lights were off and the curtains were drawn back so that the patient could look out the dreary window at the mournful landscape. People walked by with sad gray umbrellas. Trees seemed bent in sympathetic sorrow. Cars were few and far in between, and all were of the same dismal gray. In fact, the sadness of the outside world was mirrored by the sadness of the hospital room: there were no visitors, no signs of joy or cheerfulness. The sheets were grey, and the machines cold. A wilting flower was on a far table.
            The symphony of nature and machine continued. Patter patter beep. Patter patter beep. It went infinitely, without ever skipping a beat, without ever changing. It was a symphony of solitude and emptiness.
            John "Wolfe" San Miguel stared out the window, void of thought or emotion. He was lost in the strange cacophany; he was alone and empty. He hadn't eaten since before the tragedy, but he did not care; he wasn't hungry, nor was he thirsty. He was kept alive by the doctors' measures, but he was little more than a shell of the young man that he was a few days before.
            His family and other friends visited him regularly, though obviously none were with him presently. They tried their best to cheer him up, to snap him from his depression. But all their efforts were in vain, and after he broke down in private and cried until he no longer had any tears- of course, after his testimony- they always found him staring out the window, never seeming to have moved a muscle in their absence.
            A nurse had entered the room then. Wolfe made no motion to acknowledge the nurse's presence. The nurse felt sympathetic to Wolfe; in fact, he was actually quite sad. He knew Wolfe when he was a cheerful little boy, running behind his mother, who was then the head of radiology. He couldn't believe that such a happy little boy could become the empty, broken wreck that sat in front of him, forever staring out the window.
            "Hey John," the nurse said. "John." Wolfe refused to move. He might as well have been a statue. "John, you've got to cheer up. Your mom and your dad and your sister are waiting for you to cheer up, man. Your other friends and visitors too. C'mon man, won't you smile?"
            Wolfe still didn't move. The nurse began to doubt whether Wolfe heard him at all. Giving up with a sigh, the nurse said, "The doc's gonna be here in a half hour. Also, I just wanted you to know that this letter came for you a few minutes ago. I don't know where it's from, but it smells nice. I'll leave this on your table." After the nurse had done so, he went to the door, shook his head once in sadness, and closed the door to the room, leaving Wolfe alone once more.
            Seconds turned into minutes. Moments stretched on for eternity. Wolfe still stared out the window. However, in the depths of his mind, a spark appeared. A thought came to life, and though it was small at first, it began to spread through his mind, until it replaced the nothingness and gave him his first actual thought in days.
            Slowly and softly, Wolfe muttered, "Ten..." An eyebrow rose. Something was wrong: he began to feel it. "Ten," he repeated. He said it over and over again in his mind, until a hidden importance had revealed itself to him. "Ten," he whispered one last time. "Not eleven."
            He turned around and saw the letter on his table. It smelled nice, but moreover, it smelled familiar. He shrugged it off though, and carefully opened the letter. It wasn't long, but was rather curt and to the point. The typed letter said:
           

      Tonight, a murder shall occur at 11 Manorville Lane. Solve it, and arrest the murderer. Do so, and learn the truth about the explosion at 372 Roxas Drive.
   
            "Solve the murder... learn the truth..." he muttered. A sudden fire burned in his eyes, and a feeling- a desire- to follow the instructions given to him and learn the truth seized him. Purpose had finally found him once more. Now, he would use the skills that he had taken years to learn and hone to find the truth.
            He pulled the leads out of his chest. The symphony of solitude and emptiness was interrupted by the erratic beeping of the machine. He walked over to a far corner, where a pile of his clothes lay. Stripping quickly, he put on dark jeans, a white t-shirt, a black jacket, a necklace with a Jerusalem cross, a necklace with a ring on a metal chain, and a black digital wristwatch on his right arm.
            With his task complete, Wolfe decided that he could wait no longer. He slipped out of the room, and entered the elevator and headed for the bottom floor. As the elevator descended, three doctors arrived at the now empty room. The door was open, the sheets were wrinkled, and the patient dress was left on a ledge. They were astounded at the sight, and immediately spread the news, calling security to make sure the patient didn't escape.
            As soon as the elevator doors opened, Wolfe ducked out of sight, observing the front desk. He knew that once the doctors found out about his escape, they would begin to lock down the hospital. That couldn't happen. He tried to formulate an escape plan, and saw a fortunate aid: a cleaning cart with a sheet covering what he knew to be a hollow bottom.
            After looking every which way to ensure that he wasn't seen, he quickly darted to the cart and hid within the hollow compartment. He was just in time, as Wolfe heard security guards running towards the stairs, presumably to aid the hospital staff in searching for him. When the footsteps had dissipated, Wolfe peeked from underneath the cloth, and saw that the front desk was empty, and that a crowd of people was beginning to form, as the lunch hour had arrived. He smiled, and darted from out of the cart and quickly blended in with the crowd.
            No sooner had he done so, however, than a voice had yelled, "There he is! There's the patient!" Wolfe cursed his bad luck and turned around to see a doctor and a team of guards descending the stairs.
            "Oh, hey Dr. Matsuko," Wolfe casually greeted him, retaining his cool composure.
            "John, what are you doing out here?" Dr. Matsuko asked him.
            "Well, I've got a case," he replied, now looking at the front doors. He saw that security guards had stealthily appeared on the corridors branching out from the entrance hall. A few minutes- no, a few seconds; that's all he would have. That, and abrupt surprise.
            "A case? But John, you're a patient! Come now, let's get you back to your-"
            "Dr. Matsuko, can you do me a favor?" Wolfe said, staring at the front doors.
            "What?"
            "Tell my mother that I'm sorry for worrying her. And tell my father to stay away from Manorville."
            And with that, Wolfe darted through the crowd, pushing and shoving his way to the doors. As he parted the crowd like the red sea, the crowd, who of course was pushed to the sides, formed walls in front of the guards standing by on the corridors. While the guards struggled to get to the young man, Wolfe freed himself from the crowd and burst through the front door, flinging it wide open with his shoulder and emerging into the rain. He kept on running, turned the corner that led into the hospital, and escaped from the sight of the staff.
            He hid in some bushes, letting a squad of security guards that were pursuing him pass by. After waiting a few minutes, he made sure that he was alone once more, jumped out of the bushes, and plotted his way back to his home. It took a few minutes, but when he had done so, he set off in a moderate jog, taking as many side alleys as he possibly could.
            The rain continued to fall, though it was beginning to slowly lighten up. It got in his eyes, occasionally obscuring his vision and making him feel like he was looking underwater without goggles. The rain also pushed down his hair, the ends of the bangs just being long enough to partially cover his eyes as well. But he didn't mind. A fire burned in him, and he would not be stopped.
            It took some time to get to his destination. Police cruisers were on the street now, trying to find him, and once or twice he thought he could hear the barking of the police dogs. But he kept his pace, and though he wasn't fast, he was sneaky, avoiding his pursuers with only some slight trouble.
            Eventually, after a few hours of running and detours, Wolfe made it to Xavier Street. He saw that it was, surprisingly, empty; after all, he figured that there would be guards waiting for him, since they had more than ample time to install some. Nevertheless, he took the precaution of jogging to a parallel street, going down that street as far as to the point where he was in front of the house whose backyard was joined to his own. Wolfe took a few deep breaths to calm himself down and get some air back in his lungs. He had done what he was about to do multiple times during his childhood, but he hadn't done it in a while. His path might have changed, and he could not be slowed down and stopped. He could not afford the last danger.
            When he felt he was ready, he took off at a fast pace, first entering the lawn, then the side path, jumping over little kids’ toys and potted plants. He saw a fence that was taller than from when he was a child. He stopped in front of the fence and began to look around, knowing that he wouldn't be able to climb the fence without some aid. After a few seconds, he noticed a garden chest that he figured would give him just enough height to be able to go over the fence. He took the garden chest, struggling with all his strength to push it in position, and then climbed the chest when it was pushed directly against the fence. As he had suspected, it afforded him enough height, and he climbed over the fence, tucking into a roll when he had entered his backyard.
            He jogged towards the back door and found it unlocked. Suspicious, Wolfe slowly entered his home, dripping wet from the rain, even though the rain had stopped a few minutes before. He shed his jacket and shirt, and kicked off his shoes, the sneakers flying in the air and hitting an opposite wall, falling to the floor with a small thud. He also stripped off his socks, which were soaked from the rain and his sweat, and tossed them where the shoes were. He then looked to a wall and saw that the time was four o'clock.
            Wolfe slowly crept through the room he had entered, through his living room, up his stairs, and into his bathroom. Along the way, he scanned his home for any signs of anyone else being within, and with a sigh of relief, found that there was none. After shutting the door to the bathroom, he took off his jeans and underwear, set his two necklaces on a ledge, and turned on the shower, setting the temperature to hot.
            He got into the shower and let the water run over his body, slowly relaxing his stressed muscles. For a while, he did nothing but think. He didn't have much to think about, admittedly, but of the few things that he did have- the note, the warning, the potential truth- he analyzed thoroughly. When he had finished, he shampooed and soaped his body, rinsed, and then finally turned the knob on the shower to extremely hot, just out of habit. Wolfe stayed underneath the shower for a few more seconds, then turned it off, took his towel, and dried himself off.
            He emerged from his bathroom with his towel wrapped around his waist. Having memorized the layout of his house, he maneuvered his way through the second floor with little difficulty, until he walked through a door frame that led to his own room. He immediately turned on the lights, took off his towel, and changed quickly into a white polo shirt and black slacks. He returned to his bathroom to retrieve his two necklaces, replacing them on his neck. Walking back to his room, he put on another digital wristwatch, ran his hand through his hair to ensure that it was semi-spiky, and took his phone from its charger, where it was placed by his family- or so he had been told- after he was placed into his medicine-induced coma. Putting on fresh socks, he steadied his breathing and prepared to venture out once more. It was now six o'clock, and it would be a ways before he arrived at Manorville.
            When he turned around, however, he saw that a figure blocked his path. It was his father, dressed in a suit, with a stony expression on his face. Wolfe couldn't tell what his father was feeling, but if it was rage, Wolfe wanted to get out of the house as quickly as possible.
            "'Stay away from Manorville?'" his father immediately asked. "You've got a case at Manorville?"
            "I do, yes," Wolfe quickly replied.
            "So you spend the past few days in a trance, staring out of your hospital window, worrying your mother, your sister, me, and all of your other friends, and you now have the gall to be making fantastic escapes and go on foolish escapades? All for what?"
            "The truth."
            "The truth?"
            "Ten. You told me that there were ten bodies found at 372 Roxas Drive. Ten bodies identified to belong to my closest friends, friends so close I considered them family. Ten. But not eleven."
            "Eleven?"
            "When Anna called me that day, she told me that all eleven of them were there, waiting for me for some bizarre reason. But you only found ten. Which means one of them escaped: Rus."
            "So Russell has escaped. What does-"
            "This afternoon, I received a letter, or rather, a note. It told me that if I went to Manorville, I would find a murder. If I solved that murder, I would learn the truth about the explosion. I have to take that risk, dad. I have to find out what the truth is."
            Alex stared at his son, cold, analytical eyes being matched by a set of determined ones.
            "What if it's a trap?"
            "Then I'll spring it. Because I have to know who killed them, and why."
            For a few moments, there was silence. Then, Alex said, "Fine. Take the case. If there is a murder at Manorville tonight, I'll ask that everyone else give you time to work on it. We can probably give you an hour, but no more than that. You will, of course, send to me everything you find.
            "Furthermore, while you play your game, if you get into any amount of trouble, call for backup IMMEDIATELY. Your mother's already beside herself, and I don't want to be the one to tell her that something bad happened to you."
            "Thanks dad," Wolfe replied. He walked past his father, leaving his room's lights on.
            "One more thing," his father said, not turning around to face Wolfe. Wolfe stopped, not turning around either. "If you need help, call."
            "Of course," Wolfe answered. He then walked down the steps, through his home's interior, into his garage, and opened the garage door. After the door had slowly lifted, he got on his mountain bike and pedaled off, his sights set on Manorville.
            Once again, Wolfe stuck to the side streets. The main streets had more light and a more direct route to Manorville, and the darkness of the side streets occasionally unnerved Wolfe. However, he wasn't sure that the RCPD had given up their hunt yet, despite his father's assurance that they would give him time to solve the murder at Manorville. Fortunately, Wolfe knew of a path that took the winding side streets to Manorville, running along the edge of the city. It was a seldom used route, more likely to be used by children off on their own adventures in the day than anyone else.

      As the night had fallen, Wolfe hurried to reach his destination. His heart began to beat like a war drum, and a sense of nervous anticipation had taken him. What would he find when he arrived at 11 Manor Lane? Some ghastly scene? It wouldn't be his first murder investigation. Uncooperative suspects? He could give back as much as he was given, usually to the surprise of everyone present. An intricate mystery? The easier the mystery, the quicker its completion, and the closer Wolfe would be to the truth.
            Finally, he had reached the outskirts of the gated off community, Manorville. Instead of proceeding to their front gate, Wolfe took to the opposite direction, staying close to the walls. After some time, and after spotting something only he and a select few knew, Wolfe jumped off his mountain bike, letting it move forward and stop by itself by losing balance and crashing to the ground. He scanned the wall then, smiling, dove into some bushes, which revealed a secret passage granting him entry to Manorville. The passage itself had been created before Wolfe and a select few of his friends found out about it when they were children. Though the hole wasn't anything too special, it gave Wolfe a sense of pleasure that he could access even Manorville when he wanted to- not that he would do any mischief anyway, but visitors were usually turned away from Manorville.
            Wolfe maneuvered the streets, keeping his eyes searching for Manor Lane. Though he still stuck to the shadows, he felt that he was being watched, a sensation that began during his flight to Manorville. He shrugged it off though, and continued on his search, until he eventually found Manor Lane. Knowing that 11 Manor Lane would be at the end, he turned the corner and saw that, down the street, was a lively party. The sounds of traditional festive Filipino music were what reached him first, followed by the different aromas of the food being catered outside on the lawn. He also saw many guests in formal wear, some men in suits, or americana as they called them, and others in the traditional barongs.

      As he proceeded towards his destination, a tragedy occurred. Wolfe noticed on a balcony on the third floor a man leaning over a railing one second; the next, he had toppled over and fallen on top of a blue car resting in the driveway below him, making a sizeable dent on the car frame and sending glass debris all over the car's immediate area. Knowing that this must be his cue, Wolfe hurried towards the scene of the crime.
            When he had gotten there, people were beginning to crowd around the body. The music had stopped, and in its place were murmurs of shock and confusion. Wolfe pushed through the crowd until he had broken through to the front of the crowd, where the crime scene was. He raised his voice then and warned, "Nobody touch the body! This is a crime scene!"

      Whispers rose again as the announcement was made.
            "And who are you to judge?" one of the men asked. "Who are you anyway, kid?"
            "I'm a detective," Wolfe replied, turning his attention to the body.
            "A detective? Please! Stop playing boy, and let us call the real-"
            "My name is John San Miguel, but please call me 'Wolfe,'" Wolfe impatiently replied. The crowd talked amongst themselves, marvelling at the sight of the young detective who had been hospitalized due to the Roxas Drive explosion. "And like I've already said, I am a detective. Now, please stand back, and no one touch the body until the police arrive!" Wolfe ordered. The crowd did as he instructed, and took a few steps back, allowing ample room for Wolfe to conduct his investigation of the crime scene.
            Wolfe approached the body, scanning the body in multiple different areas. There wasn't much to be seen to the untrained eye: he looked aged, his face had a rosy complexion, his hair was thinning in spots, and was streaked with gray. He wore a plain navy business suit, which was beginning to be tainted by red blood. His black Italian shoes shone under the moonlight, and the analog watch on his left arm had stopped, presumably upon impact. His suit was slightly tattered, but that was from the impact of the car.
            When he had gotten close enough to the body, he began to sniff it. From the deceased's mouth, Wolfe took note of a few different scents: the distinctive sauce of his favorite restaurant, Las Islas; the scent of bitter almonds; the scent of cherries; and finally, what seemed to be the smell of onions. He drew back his nose in slight disgust when he identified the last one, then regained his serious composure.
            Turning back to the crowd, he commanded, "No one leave the lawn, no one leaves the house!" After he had said so, he began walking up the lawn and towards the house. While he walked, he sent a text message to his father: Begun investigation. Tell Manorville security to report to 11 Manor Lane. No one can leave. A few seconds later, as he was entering the front door, he received a simple reply from his father: k. Wolfe groaned as he begun to sweep the house interior. He went room by room, as if he were a one-man SWAT team, and every time he encountered someone, he told them that he was a detective under the authority of the police- which was more or less the truth of the situation- and that they had to report to the living room. When he had covered all the rooms save the one where the victim fell from, he entered the last one.
            Wolfe could clearly tell that it was the man's office: there was a bookcase filled with books and journals dedicated to economics and business. He felt sleepy just looking at the titles. Shaking his head to keep his alertness, he looked over the rest of the room: a potted plant in a far corner by the door, a standard smoke alarm on the ceiling, a glass desk with an empty martini glass and a desk lamp, the lamp's light bearing down on what seemed to be a ledger of sorts. The doors leading to the balcony were open, and a soft wind rustled the white drapes. Wolfe observed the martini glass, then the balcony. After a few minutes, he closed the door of the office, returning to the living room and his suspects.
            As he neared the suspects, he heard them talking to one another. "What's going on? What happened to Don Epal?" a deep male voice asked. "I was invited to his birthday for business, and when I get here, I hear that I have to wait to see him? Just what kind of game is he playing at?"
            "Mr. Ah, I'm sure that whatever it is, Mr. Epal will-" a nervous female voice began.
            "To hell with the old man!" the first voice thundered. "And what's with this kid calling himself a detective? Acting like some hot shot, rounding you, me, and the delivery boy over here in this living room!"
            "Actually, I'm quite curious as to why we're here as well," a third voice, that belonging to a young male, added. "After all, I'm just a delivery boy, I only went in to have him sign for a package."
            "And I only went in to have him sign some papers," the female voice replied.
            Wolfe felt like he had heard enough and announced, "Don Epal is dead." He walked into the room to the stares of the three suspects.
            "Dead?" the first man asked. He had a muscular build, and wore a brown business suit that looked slightly worn. To his right was the female, who was also sharply dressed, with a nice hourglass figure, her hair in a bun, and wearing glasses that matched her scarlet lipstick. She looked like a stereotypical hot secretary. To the first man's left was the third suspect, a delivery boy with a lean frame and black hair, glasses, and a hat and uniform bearing the logo of Princeton Private Delivery Service.
            "Yes, Don Epal is dead," Wolfe repeated. "Could the three of you give me your names and purposes for being here, as well as what you've been doing for the past few minutes?"
            "Of course," the first man said, still in slight shock. "My name is Tang Ah. I am the junior business partner of Don Prince Epal. I was invited here by him for some business on his birthday, though I was told immediately after I arrived by his secretary over here that I would have to wait a few minutes before he would see me. So, I've been waiting in the second living room, where you found me on one of the recliners."
            "My name is Pang Itnya," the female said. "I'm the secretary of Mr. Prince Epal. Earlier, at the beginning of his party, I entered his room and had him sign some papers, then he gave me a few orders regarding maintaining the party while he worked on a last minute business item. He also instructed me to have Mr. Ah here wait until he was called for. For the past few minutes, I've been busy entertaining the guests."
            "Ms. Itnya, when did the party start?" Wolfe inquired.
            "A few hours ago," she replied.
            "Thank you. Those are some very suggestive documents you're holding behind your back, by the way," Wolfe commented, prompting the woman to hide a few papers she was holding in a folder and press them tightly to her back, so that it was out of Wolfe's vision. "And now, you?"
            "Oh, me?" the delivery boy said. "I'm Serge Shadow. I'm a recent hire at Princeton Private Delivery Service. I arrived a few minutes ago with a package for Mr. Epal, and after he signed for the package, I left and used the restroom. I had just gotten out when you told me to go here to the living room."
            "I see. Thank you all for your cooperation," Wolfe commented. "You may all go."
            The three of them looked at Wolfe in shock. "Wait... that's it?" Mr. Ah asked.
            "Yeah, that's it," Wolfe replied. "Someone from the RCPD will follow up with you in a few days. Until such time, feel free to go."
            Bewildered, the three of them cautiously shuffled to the front door. One by one they left, first Mr. Ah, then Ms. Itnya. Just before the delivery boy could leave, however, Wolfe said, "Just a moment, Mr. Shadow."
            Though the delivery boy had his hand on the handle, he withdrew it and closed the door. Returning to the living room where the detective remained, he asked, "Yes, Mr. Detective?"
            "I wanna ask you something," Wolfe replied, his hands in his pocket. "I wanna know if you want to see a magic trick."
            "A magic trick?" Serge Shadow asked, taken aback.
            "Yes. It's a really difficult one, but I think I can pull it off. Do you want to know what it is?"
            "Sure... I guess...?"
            "Alright. All I need you to do is stand still."
            Wolfe approached the delivery boy. Their eyes were locked in a stare down, the cold detective's piercing through the delivery boy, as if he was analyzing and judging the boy's own soul. The boy, on the other hand, looked back in confusion and nervous anticipation.
            "What's the name of the trick?" Serge asked.
            "No real name. I'll just tell you what I'm going to do: I'm going to bring the dead back to life!"
            And with that, Wolfe delivered a swift kick to the delivery boy's groin. Serge, caught completely unawares, buckled down to his knees and clutched at his groin in agony. As he did so, Wolfe took off the hat, and then yanked off his black hair, revealing short blonde hair that had been covered by the wig. He then ripped off the glasses, and kneeling in front of Wolfe was none other than Russell DuCarte.
            "Figures you'd see through the disguise," Russell snarled in pain.
            "Want to hear my deduction?" Wolfe coldly posed, staring Russell down. "I've already completed it. It was actually pretty easy."
            "Was it now, John? Then enlighten me."
            "Well, it all starts with the crime: Mr. Epal, relaxing at his desk, doing his business. He drinks out of his martini glass which, unbeknownst to him, had been drugged. He takes some fresh air, then, succumbing to the effects of the drug, falls over and hits the blue car in the driveway, dead.
            "However, that's not all to the story. Let's start first with the mystery drug: cyanide. I was able to deduce this from his rosy complexion and the smell of bitter almonds coming from his mouth. This is further supported by the scent of bitter almonds that I sniffed from his martini glass. In the few minutes that it would have taken for the cyanide to take effect, Don Epal likely started feeling bad, stood up, went outside to get some fresh air, and then fell to the car, crashing on top of the roof, already dead. But how was his drink poisoned?
            "That part is simple. Recall that I had you and two others as suspects. Mr. Ah, who was never even close enough to Don Epal, couldn't have done anything, which automatically excluded him. That leaves you and Ms. Itnya, who were able to enter his office, interact with him, and poison him. But which one of you did it? Well, it certainly couldn't have been Ms. Itnya, since she talked to him hours ago, when the party first started. Had she been the one to do it, he would've been dead before I got here. Yes, she could've spiked his martini glass then, but I doubt that he would've set aside drinking out of the martini glass for hours. Plus, that would be counter-intuitive to her motive."
            "And what was her motive?" Russell asked.
            "Simple. Remember when I said that she had some suggestive documents? I was only able to glance at the title, but they looked like a settlement of sorts, probably for sexual harassment, because she's a stereotypical hot secretary. Why would she risk all the money she would've received by killing her employer?
            "Furthermore, there's more evidence to point at you as the true perpetrator. Like Ms. Itnya, you were able to enter the study and have him sign for a package. But after you left his office, the very first thing you did was use the restroom. Now, why did you do that?"
            "Because I had to pee?" Russell suggested.
            "Yeah, that could've been it. But I think it was to wash your hands. Why? Because you were afraid that there was some leftover cyanide on your hands, and you wanted to get rid of it as quickly as possible. But how would cyanide accidentally hit your hands, and how would you have poisoned Mr. Epal in the first place? Well, it's the one thing that both you and Ms. Itnya had in common, aside from being able to enter the office and interact with him: you had him sign something, which means you both had pens.
            "What's the significance of pens, though? Well, imagine that a pen was used for something else besides writing; say, it was also used as a container. Now, how would that be achieved? To answer that, let's take my idea for a spin. With a clicky pen, you use the end of it, the one that pushes the pen tip forward. However, you modify the pen itself: the pen tip's barrel is shortened, and the pen end that pushes the barrel forward is lengthened, so that it was long enough to push the shortened barrel forward, and be able to contain a lethal dose of cyanide. Deconstructing such a vial would be easy as well: just twist a pen joint, tilt both openings over the martini drink, and presto! You've got a cyanide-laced drink. Furthermore, it would give you cause to wash your hands, in case there was any cyanide that got on your hands.
            "But where's the proof for that? Take that pen in your front shirt pocket." Wolfe took the pen from the front shirt pocket and looked it over for a few seconds. After he had done so, he smiled with satisfaction and twisted it around the middle of the pen, revealing a small opening. He then shook the ends, forcing two hollow capsules to slide out, followed by the clicker end of the pen from one half and the pen ink barrel, extremely shortened, from the other half. These Wolfe replaced in Russell's shirt pocket.
            "And how were you able to gather all that?" Russell questioned. "You're a keen detective, but no way you could have deduced all that."
            "I didn't," Wolfe answered, dumbfounding Russell. "I deduced most of it. I admittedly guessed on the pen as a container bit, though I was able to deduce from that as far as you pouring cyanide and why you were washing your hands. The washing hands, of course, was the key reason I suspected you.
            "Now, what I want to know is this: why did you kill Don Epal? What's your connection to him? And what's the truth of the Roxas Drive Explosion? Answer me!"
            Before he could, a figure bust through the window, surprising both Wolfe and Russell. The figure landed quickly, then delivered a knee to Russell's temple, knocking him out.
            "What the hell was that for?" Wolfe asked the figure, growling. The figure remained silent. Clad in a single dark robe with a hood, Wolfe couldn't tell if they were male or female. He could, however, make out dark boots and dark pants underneath the robe. "Why won't you talk?"
            Instead of responding with words, the figure began to attack Wolfe, throwing punches and kicks and forcing Wolfe on the defensive. Wolfe thought he could recognize the fighting style of the figure, and a familiar scent wafted in the air. Regardless, he spent every amount of his focus on countering the figure's attacks. The figure was fast and quick on their feet, and Wolfe worried that the battle might drag out, which would leave him at a disadvantage, knowing that he would not have the endurance for a long battle. However, the scent that was wafting through the air had registered in his mind: he had also smelled it at the hospital, from the note that he received, as well as from a place he visited in his childhood. Consequently, he realized why the figure's fighting style was so familiar.
            Soon, an opening was made when the figure tried to discombobulate Wolfe by bringing their hands forward, trying to have them meet at Wolfe's head. Wolfe, with a counter-attack he knew would work, put his arms up to block the attack, swatting them away. He then sent a kick to the figure's abdomen, sending them backwards. Before the figure could respond, Wolfe rushed the figure and attacked them with a tight embrace.
            "Anna..." Wolfe whispered. "Stop."
            The figure stopped their attacks immediately and returned Wolfe's hug. They stood frozen thus for a few seconds, then Wolfe let go and the figure pulled down their hood, revealing none other than Anna León.
            "So you were able to do all this," Anna commented, smiling and with a tear in her eye. "I knew you could. You're only seventeen, but I knew if anyone, you would be able to do this."
            "Anna, what's going on," Wolfe asked, a look of sheer confusion on his face. "I thought you were dead!"
            Anna took a step back and bit her lip. She took a few moments to formulate her words, then said, "You should probably hear the whole story from the beginning. It all started when you first took on the 'Pure Brotherhood Case.' On that first night, Russell was kidnapped, and then later returned to his home in the middle of the night. However, he had been threatened and made the personal agent of an old enemy of ours: Adrian Legaspi."
            "Adrian Legaspi? The psycho who kidnapped you and tried to kill me?" Wolfe asked, shocked. "I thought he was locked up!"
            "He escaped recently. My dad handled the investigation of the breakout," Anna commented sadly. "Anyway, he had instructed Russell to keep an eye on you, and to do whatever he said when he said it. He had ways of monitoring him too: a two way earpiece in Russell's left ear, and a tracking chip in his right arm."
            "What? No way!"
            "Way."
            "And how do you know all this?"
            "He told me the day of the explosion. He talked to me in private, away from the others, and explained all of this through a letter he wrote so that Legaspi couldn't hear us. Fortunately, Russell knew that I would get the warnings immediately. He also covered it up with a fake conversation of how we would lure you to 372 Roxas Drive.
            "Speaking of Roxas Drive, here's the reason we were all gathered there. Basically, we wanted to pull a prank on you. While you were off at Aguinaldo High on your case, I went on a girls' day out with Caitlin, Renee, and Mary. When we visited the mall, one of the shops we looked in was a costume shop, where they had a bunch of neat special effects corpses. We wanted to scare the sense out of you with them when you walked in, since we knew you were easily scared by haunted houses."
            "No I'm not..." Wolfe whimpered.
            "Of course you're not, John. Of course you're not," Anna replied with a grin. "Anyway, when Russell warned me about the bomb, after he had set the timer and escaped, I told David and the rest of the girls what was happening, and we fled the house just in time. We then went to my childhood villa a few minutes away from the outskirts of Rizal Grove, where we laid low and waited for you to recover. Of course, we had to keep the illusion that we had perished in the explosion, if we were to draw out Adrian Legaspi and put him in a trap, and so we had David change the records in the RCPD database so that the charred bodies that we would've used to prank you would instead be mistaken for us.
            "On the day you woke up, we began planning of a way to trap Adrian Legaspi. However, we weren't really able to make much progress. To make matters worse, last night, he raided the villa and captured everyone else. I was able to escape in time, but I had no idea where Adrian Legaspi took the others, nor does Russell. We had become desperate, and so we thought you might be able to help us find and rescue the others by trapping Adrian Legaspi."
            For a moment, Wolfe just stared at Anna. He then turned his back and stood in silence, worrying Anna. "Do you know what happened to me when I thought that you all had died?" Wolfe asked softly. "I felt numb. Empty. I didn't know what I would do, let alone if I could think. When I heard that you guys- my closest friends in the world, people I love so much that I consider you family- had died, I felt like a huge part of me had burned up at Roxas Drive. I just felt like a shell of myself. And now to know that not only had you all been alive, but you've all been manipulating me this whole time, not even taking the time to tell me that you were all ok?"
            Anna was afraid. She didn't know how Wolfe would act next. She began preparing herself to fight, just in case. However, Wolfe's next words disarmed her. "But in the end, what matters is that you're all alive. At least, I hope so. Because if Adrian Legaspi did a single thing to the others, I'll make sure he pays in hell!"
            Thus saying, he walked on over to Russell's unconscious body, took the two-way earpiece from Russell's left ear, and said to it, "Legaspi. I know you can hear me. You targeted my friends, and that's not ok. You should've left them alone. If you want me, come get me. You know where I am: 11 Manor Lane. Come at me, psycho." He then dropped the earpiece and crushed it with his foot without waiting for a response.
            Wolfe turned around then to face Anna. "Well, he's a-coming. And I'm going to be ready for him."
            "But what are we gonna do?"
            "Get Rus out of here, Anna. I'll play the predator game and figure out where he's hid the others. When I do, I'll text you their location and meet up with you there."
            Anna nodded and picked Russell up by his shoulders. "You'll be ok, right John?"
            Wolfe gave her a reassuring smile. "I will be. I'll come back to you. I'm going to find out where the others are, and we're going to save them. And then we'll finally be able to smile."
            He nodded at her then, and she dropped Russell to give him one last hug. "Don't do anything stupid," she cautioned him.
            "Please Anna," Wolfe replied, returning the hug. "It should be 'Don't do anything too stupid.' And I won't."
            Anna chuckled slightly, then picked Russell up and dragged him out of the house. Wolfe, meanwhile began making his preparations for Adrian Legaspi.

-X-

      The crowd remained, though they were all subdued, waiting for the arrival of the RCPD. An owl hooted in the distance.
            There was a figure that stealthily crept up towards the house and used the bushes to hide himself from the vision of the crowd. He worked his way to the backdoor, and then entered the home through the back. After he had done so, he drew himself to his full height and observed his lit surroundings.
            "Hellooo?" the man called out. He was dressed for the occasion, wearing a black and red suit and looking positively diabolical. "Hellooo?" the man repeated.
            After the echoing of the second call subsided, the man moved forward into the first living room. Suddenly, just as he reached the point where Anna had broken through the window and where moonlight freely streamed through, all the lights shut down. Adrian Legaspi remained in the window of light, staring around him for any signs of Wolfe.
            "Adrian Legaspi," an animalistic voice growled. Adrian Legaspi couldn't tell where it came from, as it echoed throughout the empty house. "Where are they?" the voice asked, getting straight to the point.
            "Wolfy! Baby! That's the best greeting I get?" Adrian Legaspi asked in a mocking tone. "After all that you did to me, this is the BEST I GET?"
            "All I did? You did this to yourself, you crazed fool! YOU were the one who kidnapped Anna!"
            "Because her old man wouldn't find my angel!"
            "YOU were the one who tried to kill me!"
            "Because you would've taken away the only incentive her old man had for finding my sweet pea!"
            "YOU caused your own misery, Legaspi!"
            "No, YOU were the one who did this to me! If it hadn't been for your damned meddling, I wouldn't have been sent to prison. I might've been able to stay with my little girl, or maybe seen my sweet Nora in the next world. But NO! YOU had to come in and mess everything up! And I was sent to a hellish nightmare! All because of some snot-nosed punk who thought he could play hero!
            "But once I'm done with you, Wolfe, my revenge is gonna be complete. I'm going to find you here, Wolfe, and I'm going to enjoy shooting your brains out!" With this, Adrian Legaspi took out a silver gun that shone in the moonlight. He cocked it once and wore a devilish smile. "And after I kill you, I'm gonna go home, screw every one of your little friends, and when they beg to God to be free, I'm going to shove a pole up their ass until they meet their maker!"
            Wolfe almost lost his composure. He was possessed with the urge to jump out of his hiding spot and attack Adrian Legaspi before he could do so. But Legaspi had a gun, and Wolfe had the information he was looking for. He grudgingly snuck away, making sure he was as silent as possible as he exited the building. When he had finally snuck away, he ran as fast as he could towards the old residence of Adrian Legaspi, texting Anna the information en route.
            He didn't even bother trying to be sneaky at this point. He just flat out ran- ran to get to the mansion, to look for his friends, to save them. After a few minutes he had reached it, and he began banging on the front door, trying to force it open. However, when he couldn't, he tried the doorknob, only to find it unlocked. Wolfe took a second to look at the door knob with exasperation, before bursting into the home and sweeping it one by one. He covered the ground floor and the higher floors, not finding anything in any of the rooms he visited. He was beginning to grow desperate when he remembered that Legaspi manor had a basement floor. Wolfe hurried to the basement, knocking over several things in his path in his haste. He almost fell down the stone steps, but finally he emerged into a cold room where his friends were all located, bound and gagged.
            Wolfe panted in relief at finding that they were all alive. "Guys!" he shouted, giving each of them a large hug as he untied them. "Oh God, I've never been happier to see you guys! C'mon, let's get out of here!" After exchanging another round of hugs with his friends, he led them all up the basement steps. At the top, he encountered Anna, who was panting and sweating slightly.
            "John! You've got them! Good!" Anna said. "I've already contacted the RCPD, and they're on their way."
            "Then let's wait for them! If I'm lucky, then Legaspi is still looking for me inside 11 Manor Lane," Wolfe replied. He led them once more down the narrow central corridor, but stopped just short of the door.
            "John, why'd you stop?" Anna asked.
            "Legaspi," Wolfe growled. Barring their exit was none other than Adrian Legaspi with his gun pointed straight at Wolfe and his friends.
            "You sneaky bastard," Legaspi taunted. "You almost escaped with your friends. Just for that, I'm going to kill them first, and I'm going to make you watch!"
            "It's over, Legaspi!" Wolfe countered. "The police are on their way!"
            "So let your daddy come and collect your dead body!" Legaspi snarled. He pointed his gun at one of his friends. Wolfe recognized this and stepped in front of them as the trigger was pulled. There was a loud bang and a flash of light. For a moment, everyone was frozen, anticipating the result. Then, Adrian Legaspi fell face forward into his own home, blood oozing from his temple, dead.
            From behind Adrian Legaspi was Wolfe's father, Inspector Alex San Miguel. "Looks like I got here just in time," he commented with a sigh of relief. However, the brief relief was quickly replaced with horror.
            Color drained from Wolfe's face. He looked down at his abdomen as his white polo was beginning to be stained by maroon blood. He felt weak, and he fell to his knees.
            "Damn. Didn't expect this..." Wolfe whispered. His friends began to gather around him, all worried and horrified. "I... love... y..."
            Wolfe wasn't able to finish his sentence. His vision grew blurry, and he collapsed to the floor. A cold sensation took him, and his mind was shutting down. Soon, he ceased to hear the wails of his friends, nor the desperate calls of his father for the paramedics. Eventually, he knew no more.