Author's Preface
New York City, New York.
December 17th, 1998.
7:54 A.M.
Crowe and Aravali each emerged from an isolated metal door near the back of a narrow, dingy alleyway, the air freezing cold, the door closing behind them as Aravali yanked the rolling bag through the threshold.
The doctor propped the bag up and released it, then made a face, exchanging odd looks with Crowe, both of them immediately thinking along the same lines.
“Christ… what the bloody hell stinks? ” Crowe griped.
“Good question,” Aravali mumbled, glancing up and down the alleyway and shivering slightly. “No idea…”
There was a very distinct smell in the air, not overbearing, but certainly not pleasant.
They gazed down the alley, seeing nothing but a few trash cans off to the side with bits of garbage and debris scattered around them—and at the end of the alleyway, the ambiance of a city echoes, and they were able to see people marching up and down the sidewalk, the morning traffic appearing to be at a standstill.
“Whoooa, hold on,” Crowe uttered, moving toward the end of the alley. “This is not small-town America anymore…”
“Wait… what do I do with this?” Aravali asked, motioning over to the rolling bag.
Crowe turned back to him. “I dunno, just stash it.”
Aravali shook his head once, glancing around the vacant alley. “Stash it where? ”
“Who cares , just—c’mon!” Crowe yelled impatiently, waving for him to follow. “C’mooon!”
Aravali sighed and pushed the bag over to the far corner, then broke into a speed-walk after him.
Crowe stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked up, pedestrians shuffling past him on either side—and instantly, he became mesmerized by the sights all around, towering buildings of a late 20th century metropolis in nearly every direction, and most notably of all—two massive towers captured his attention in the near distance on the city’s skyline.
He fell still, gazing up at the huge, endless array of buildings as the morning sunrise cast a brilliant glare in between them—and he felt several things at once, things he hadn’t anticipated feeling at all.
He’d spent so long in 2025, he’d almost forgotten what his own world looked like—and here, not a far cry from the late 1980s, and despite now being so very far from Mapleview, he suddenly felt as if he was right back home.
Aravali stepped out from the alleyway and joined his side, following his trail of vision up to the skyline and raising his eyebrows at it all.
Crowe’s attention seemed to fixate on the twin towers, a grave, morbid dream returning to his memory—then he quickly tore his gaze from them, sniffing and running a hand down his face.
“Fuckin’ell,” he mumbled, shaking his head once. “Seeing into the future is a damn curse sometimes, I swear …”
“New York City…?” Aravali muttered with a laugh. “Wow. It’s a shame Raven didn’t come here. She probably would’ve known her way around better than us…”
“Right,” Crowe said, turning and examining the building just beside them, a tall, red, and compact apartment building that comprised the left side of the alleyway. “Well… the doorway was meant to let us out somewhere near the people we’re lookin’ for, so… we’d better start looking around here before I end up wanting to explore too much. Heh…”
“Don’t run off in this city, Crowe,” Aravali said, turning and giving him a sharp look. “Mapleview is one thing—but if you did that here, I don’t know that we’d ever even see you again.”
Crowe faced him and choked out a laugh. “Whaddo you take me for? Nooo… if I ever go off to have fun here, then guess what? You are gonna go with me.”
“Oh Lord,” Aravali sighed.
“Oh, shaddup… we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Crowe sniggered, pocketing his hands and glancing around. “I know why we’re here. We’ll focus on the important things first… dun’ worry none.”
“Hey!” someone hollered at the two of them from what sounded like the sky.
Crowe and Aravali both wheeled around in confusion, then upturned their heads—seeing a man with short black hair in a white t-shirt leaning halfway out one of the apartment windows, gazing down at them and yelling to get their attention.
“You look lost,” the man shouted down at them. “Are you looking for James Waltham?”
Crowe and Aravali traded faces.
“Blimey… listen to that accent,” Crowe murmured to the doctor with a smirk. “ New York fuckin’ New Yoooahk! ”
Aravali went deadpan, shaking his head and gazing up at the stranger again. He opened his mouth to respond to the man—but Crowe yelled before he could.
“Yes, my good man!” he screamed up at the stranger.
Aravali shot him a look.
“You here in response to the ad?” the man inquired.
“Absolutely!” Crowe grinned.
“All right… come on up, it’s floor 3,” the man instructed, waving them onward before he ducked back into his window.
“Brilliant,” Crowe smiled, smacking the doctor once on the arm before breaking into a stride toward the concrete stairs.
“ Crowe ,” Aravali whisper-yelled, following after him at a hard pace. “What in the hell are you thinking? We have no earthly idea what he was talking about.”
“So what? Maybe he put an ad in the paper for a roommate,” Crowe replied as they both marched up the stairs. “Or maybe it was for a babysitter. Maybe he’s the one who’s got the two little kids we’re here lookin’ for. You ever think of that?”
“Oh… sure, and we are just perfect candidates for that,” Aravali chided sarcastically, motioning up and down Crowe as they walked. “Especially you, looking like you just walked out of a damn Alice Cooper concert.”
“Oy.” Crowe stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to him and raising a finger. “Don’t underestimate my silver tongue, Mister Sir. Watch and learn from the master.”
Then, he pushed the double-doors open and walked into the building, Aravali rolling his eyes before following suit.
They found themselves walking through a spacious and fairly empty lobby area, a wall of tiny box-shaped mailboxes off to their left, all of them with locks. Crowe spotted a staircase at the back and marched up them with the doctor close behind, and they made their way up to the third floor.
The two emerged in a long, vacant hallway with manila wallpaper, several tan-colored apartment doors on either side, a single window overlooking the street at the hallway’s end.
“Just remember,” Crowe uttered as they walked down the hall. “Let me do the talking.”
“Tch… yes, I’ll allow that for as long as it’s socially acceptable,” Aravali mumbled in response. “But you’d better expect me to intervene the moment you throw a hand grenade into whatever topic is at hand…”
The farthest door to the left opened up, and the man in the white t-shirt leaned out of his home, spotting the two of them and waving them over.
Crowe approached him first and offered his hand. “’Ello. Crowe Quintrell. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Nice to meetcha,” the stranger replied, returning the handshake. “James Waltham.”
The man, James, then turned to the doctor.
“Aravali Chavan,” Aravali said, shaking his hand as well.
“Good to meet you both,” James said, glancing between the two and squinting intently at Crowe. “Sounds like you’re pretty far from home.”
“You’ve no idea,” Crowe smirked.
“Well’p… I’ve gotta get ready and go to work in about an hour, so… you wanna come inside and have a look around?” James offered, stepping into his apartment and gesturing for them to join him. “I tried to clean a bit, but I haven’t have time to do all that much in here.”
“Oh… no problem at all,” Crowe said, sauntering into the apartment with Aravali behind him.
The interior of the apartment was a touch smaller than either of them were used to seeing, a living room area to the right, a box-shaped television in the corner, and a couch and a recliner both aimed at it, a crooked coffee table with a freshly-dumped ashtray in between them. A pair of dark blue curtains covered the living room window, sealing the morning sunlight from view, and across the living room area near the hallway was a single round table, one that was over-cluttered with various personal items and discarded mail. To the left was the kitchen area, separated from the rest of the apartment by a short bar, about half of the dishes clean, the other half dirty and in the sink. A few different types of liquor stood on top of the fridge, and there was no décor on the apartment walls, nor any magnets on the fridge, the back hallway directly across from the front door, leading to two bedrooms and a bathroom at the end.
“I know it’s a shitty hole in the wall… but I do expect to come back to it,” James explained, scratching his nose. “I don’t give a crap about any of this old furniture, though. You don’t have to be especially careful with any of it… because I’m gonna be replacing it all when I get back to the city. I just need someone here to keep the place occupied and pay the bills while I’m gone so they don’t take it out from under me. It’s rent-controlled, so I don’t wanna lose it while I’m trying to save up.”
“Gotcha,” Crowe nodded. “Well… we’re both needing a place to stay right now, and this seems like a pretty good setup to me. D’you know how long you’ll be away, exactly?”
“Yeah… I’ll be staying at my brother’s place in Boston for the next three months,” James informed. “It’s a work thing that I can’t get out of. That means this place would be temporary for you two, and you’d have to start looking elsewhere in a couple months… unless you both wanna share a single room with each other when I get back, but I doubt you’d wanna do that.”
Crowe and Aravali glanced at each other.
“We could get bunk beds,” Crowe shrugged with a laugh.
Aravali scoffed. “I don’t expect we’ll actually be here that long, Crowe…”
“Well… I’m glad you’re here regardless,” James remarked. “People only read half the ad, and then they show up here while I’m at work and wonder why nobody’s here. Well… read the whole ad , numb-nuts. It says you can come by any time before nine, and any time after six. You two are the only people so far who bothered to show up at the right time.”
“Really?” Crowe replied. “That’s lucky…”
“It really is… because I’m leaving town tomorrow,” James laughed. “I was about to give up on being able to sublet the place, but hey… looks like we all had some good timing.”
“Incredibly good,” Crowe agreed, thinking of Zyon.
“Okay… I don’t have the time to really vet you like I wanted to,” James continued. “But… I’m also not really worried about you robbing me blind, because I put all my valuables in storage before I put that ad in the paper, so… hey, if you end up robbing me, then all you’re gonna end up with is some shitty torn-up furniture and a bunch of expired food in the fridge.”
“We oughta rob you right out the gate, then,” Crowe snickered. “Reckon we’d be doing you a favor.”
Aravali gave him a look, but James merely laughed.
“You know what? You go right ahead,” the man chuckled. “Save me a whole lotta time and effort…”
Then, James marched briskly over to the small table beside the front door, a mail table, which he seemingly didn’t use for mail at all.
The table had a tiny drawer, and he pulled it open, plucking a small gold-plated key out and holding it up for them to see.
“This is my spare key… and I keep it in here,” he explained, dropping it back into the drawer and closing it. “You can use that one until you get your own made, but I’m gonna need all keys to this place in my possession before you move out.”
“’Course,” Crowe nodded.
“There are some kids who live across the hall who can get kind of loud, too… but there aren’t any kids living above me, thank God,” James said, turning and swatting at his TV. “There’s also basic cable, nothing special… and I have some movies in my room if you ever wanna watch any. Just don’t break my VCR.”
“Duly noted,” Crowe replied.
James fidgeted for a second, pausing and running a hand down his face. “Mmm… I can’t really think of anything else I need to mention. Oh, wait, that’s a lie. I wrote down my cell number and put it in the drawer here, too… just in case you have any questions and you need to get a hold of me.”
“Right,” Crowe said.
“So, um…” James swung his arms to and fro, clasping his hands together. “When did you plan on moving in?”
Crowe glimpsed over at Aravali again.
“Soon as we can?” Crowe shrugged. “We both just left our place of residence today, actually…”
“Oooh,” James nodded. “So I was your last hope just like you were mine. Damn… what’re the odds of that?”
“What are the odds of that?” Crowe chuckled, smacking Aravali once on the arm. “Almost like it was a divine plan or something. How weird.”
“Okay… I have to start getting ready,” James disclosed. “Did you guys bring any stuff with you? Or do you have to go make a trip to get anything?”
“Oh… no… we only brought the one bag,” Crowe shrugged. “But we did kinda leave it outside…”
“Well… you better go get it,” James advised. “Someone’s gonna walk off with it if you don’t.”
“You heard the man.” Crowe swatted the doctor on the arm again. “Go get it.”
Aravali narrowed his eyes caustically at him. “What am I… your bell-boy? ”
“Just gooo,” Crowe laughed, shoving him toward the door.
Aravali pulled the door open and walked out of the apartment.
Crowe slid his hands into his overcoat pockets, then gave James a curious look.
“So… just wondering… exactly how loud are these kids across the way?” he inquired, nodding once at the door.
“Oh, hell…” James sighed and shook his head. “It’s weird, man. Some days, they’re quiet as can be… and then, other days, they’re screaming bloody murder over there like everybody in that house is trying to kill each other.”
Crowe made a slow, thoughtful nod. “Y’think there’s any, um… concerning domestics goin’ on over there?”
“Honestly… I really can’t tell,” James told him genuinely. “It’s mostly the kids screaming, but every now and then, I’ll hear the dad just explode at them. I’ve never heard or seen anyone getting hit or anything, but the dad does lose his temper once in a blue moon. I figured he just gets sick of hearing the kids screaming like hell all the time, and he occasionally just gets to a breaking point where he bites their heads off.”
“Yeah,” Crowe mumbled. “Hopefully that’s all it is. I tell ya’ something, though… raising boys is a right sight harder than raising girls. They can be a handful.”
“Well… that’s the weird thing,” James said, raising his brows at him. “It’s not boys. It’s two little girls over there.”
Crowe gave him a look of intrigue. “That is interesting.”
“Yeah… you’re tellin’ me,” James agreed. “I’ve never heard little girls get that crazy before. Maybe they’re just hyperactive or something, but holy shit , man. They are loud .”
Crowe stared thoughtfully at the apartment door.
“Maybe they need a good psychiatrist,” he murmured.
Aravali returned to the apartment, walking inside and pulling the rolling bag along behind him. He shut the door and pushed the bag off to the side, and Crowe approached him, James marching into the bathroom and shutting himself inside it in order to start getting ready for work.
They were able to hear the shower turn on moments later, and Crowe ushered Aravali to the couch and sat him down, inhaling deeply and explaining everything that he had just learned.
When he was finished, the doctor gave him a perplexed sort of look. “How did you find all that out? How long was I gone…?”
“Hey… I told you to let me do the talking, and I told you that for a reason ,” Crowe smirked, flicking him once on the chest. “I’m good at this.”
“Apparently you are,” Aravali uttered, glancing back at the front door from over his shoulder. “So… the kids are right across the hall from us…?”
“Sounds like it, yeah,” Crowe affirmed. “Zyon said we’re looking for two little girls here… two sisters… and they’re not gonna be all grown up like the people Raven’s looking for. The one’s we’re after are still children.”
“Right,” Aravali muttered, scratching along his cheek. “And if they showed up here more recently… like, in the past couple of years… then they would’ve had just enough time to be found, rescued, documented, and put through a foster care system or an adoption agency…”
“And they would’ve just ended up with a brand new family,” Crowe agreed, pointing over the back of the couch at the front door. “It all fits right together.”
“It does, but… well, the issue now is… I don’t know how we’ll be able to investigate further,” Aravali remarked. “We’re here to apprehend those two girls, and that… that feels an awful lot like… kidnapping. Especially if they already have a family here. Not to mention… you know… we’re two strange men who just moved in across the hall, and we’ll have to be poking and prodding into that family’s business, and showing special interest in their little girls. It just feels so…”
“Gross, and weird, and creepy… yeah,” Crowe admitted, looking down and nodding. “But we haven’t really got a choice. Valek’s reach goes far beyond time and location, Ari. Them kids are in pretty big danger if we leave them unattended. It’d be nice if we could just leave them with their new family, and have that be it… but… that family isn’t gonna be able to fight off what’s coming for them. Especially not…”
He trailed off for a moment, grimacing and thinking of John.
“Not an enemy like that,” Crowe said darkly. “This is an enemy that gets into your head and makes you different. It’s the kind of enemy that you don’t even realize is there. It could act directly through that family, honestly… and it might…”
He paused, glancing at the front door again.
“It might already be,” Crowe murmured.
Aravali nodded, gliding his hands together and sighing. “Well. Do you have any ideas? As far as… ways for us to get to know that family, without it coming off as… creep behavior.”
“Yes, I actually do,” Crowe replied with a smirk. “My first idea is just the basic rule of playing the silver-tongued getting-to-know-you game; you just look for an opening and make small talk, and ask questions that answer other things inadvertently. Hell, I don’t have to explain that to you , of all people… you’ve done that to me a plenty of times in therapy.”
Aravali stared, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Are you kidding? I bloody majored in that manner of talk,” Crowe laughed. “Y’think I can’t pick up on it when it’s being done to me? You underestimate me, Doctor Man.”
“Oh, yes… consistently , I do,” Aravali chuckled. “You never cease to surprise me…”
“Well… that’s my first idea, and it’s just basic common sense stuff, y’know,” Crowe explained. “When we pass them in the hall, or go to check the mail at the same time as them, or maybe help them carry their groceries up the stairs, or whatever… whenever them situations show up, you just ask little things, be friendly, and be very, very chill. That’s the key, right there.”
“Absolutely,” Aravali agreed.
“But my second idea is… gonna be a lot harder to do,” Crowe continued. “However… it is also gonna be a lot better if we actually manage to pull it off somehow.”
Aravali nodded and intertwined his fingers. “Go on.”
Crowe glimpsed backwards and down the hall, where he could still hear the shower running in the bathroom, then turned back to face the doctor.
“Well… James told me it sounds like they’ve got some domestic issues over there… and the girls go crazy and scream a lot,” Crowe stated. “So, maybe… juuust maybe… if we can convince those neighbors that you’re a child psychiatrist… then they might just decide to… hire you.”
Aravali slowly nodded, making a thoughtful expression. “I’d have to get some updated documentation…”
“And we can do that a lot easier here than we can in 2025,” Crowe grinned. “We’d just have to go get you a new ID.”
“And renew my medical license… and invent some fake job resume to cover the last ten years,” Aravali muttered, stroking his chin. “But… that’s all pretty doable. This is actually a… fairly decent idea… except…”
He huffed out a breath.
“The family might not want to pay for that kind of service… and it’s not like their insurance would cover it,” Aravali determined. “They may not think it’s worth paying for.”
“Then make it worth it,” Crowe insisted, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a shake. “Charge them something so low that they can’t refuse. We don’t actually need the money, Ari—we’re already loaded. Just put the price where they need it to be.”
Aravali glanced down and bit his lip, nodding again. “I could do that…”
“Yeah… and who knows, we could even make up some bogus charity organization and say we’re a part of it,” Crowe carried on. “Like… we’re a state-funded organization that offers expensive services to people below the poverty line, or something. Then they don’t have to pay at all.”
Aravali nodded once more. Then, he paused and gave Crowe a strange stare.
“Why are you so good at this…?” he uttered.
Crowe blinked. “Good at what?”
“At… lying ,” Aravali laughed. “You seem to have mastered the art of expertly bullshitting your way through life.”
“Mate… I ran away from Canterbury ,” Crowe sniggered. “I didn’t have a job history, or a place to live, or a car, or anything going for me. Whaddo you think I had to do to survive on my own whenever I wasn’t in the lab?”
Aravali made a sideways nod. “Point taken…”
“All we’ve really gotta do now is find an opening to propose all this to them somehow,” Crowe determined. “Make friends with them, and then just… throw the idea out there. Or just make a fake pamphlet for it and slip it under their door…”
Aravali opened his mouth to respond—but a shrill scream suddenly cut him off.
Both of them turned to the front door, hearing the echo of a child’s scream out in the hallway.
They swapped glimpses before standing and moving behind the couch toward the door. Crowe pulled it open, and they both leaned out—seeing that the apartment across from theirs was open now, and two small girls with dark hair were in the hall, one of them standing by and crying, and the other one being dragged back inside by a burly man with bushy black hair, the second girl’s hands clamped onto either side of the door frame, trying her best to resist being forced back into their home.
“KeeKee… stop!” the crying girl pleaded, sputtering and sniffing. “Stop fighting…!”
“Get back inside, ZeeZee,” the burly man ordered, nodding at the crying girl, still struggling to pull the other girl into his apartment, but the child was clasping viselike onto either side of the open doorway with a face twisted up in anger.
The crying girl, the one called ZeeZee, sniffled again and adjusted the pink strap of her tiny backpack.
“But school,” she said meekly.
“Well… your sister… is making it very clear… that she can’t behave for school today,” the burly man grunted, trying his best to jerk and lunge backwards and pull the angry girl inside without hurting her, but to no avail. “So I guess… nobody’s… going … to school…!”
“KeeKee, stop!” ZeeZee begged her sister. “Stop fighting Uncle Tommy!”
“He—is not—my fucking— uncle ,” KeeKee snarled furiously, twisting around—and planting a hard, solid kick into the burly man’s face.
Aravali winced, Crowe inhaling through his teeth and muttering a faint “Oh shit…”
Uncle Tommy’s head jolted back—and KeeKee broke free of him and hit the floor, leaping to her feet and scrambling away. She darted past her sister and raced toward the stairway at the other end of the hall, ZeeZee screaming after her and pleading for her to stop.
Tommy cursed under his breath, blood forming on his lip, grabbing the doorframe and struggling to reach his feet.
Just when KeeKee dashed toward the stairs—a woman appeared at the top of them, strolling up to the third floor with a few envelopes of mail in her hand. This woman had short black hair held back by a blue bandana—and her eyes widened when she saw KeeKee sprinting toward her.
And beyond what either Crowe or Aravali expected—KeeKee took a flying leap from the top of the stairs and tackled the woman with all of her strength—sending both of them toppling loudly down the stairway.
“Fuckin’ hell…!” Crowe gasped, breaking into a hard stride toward the stairs.
“Good Lord,” Aravali breathed, hurrying to follow.
The woman landed roughly on her back in the midsection of the stairway—and KeeKee carelessly stomped on her stomach when she jumped up and resumed her pace, running down the rest of the stairs as fast as she could. The woman was left wincing and gnawing her lip as she lay lopsidedly on the stairway, choking out a sob and tossing her mail aside before covering her face and crying.
“Oy…!” Crowe thumped quickly down the stairs and hunched over her. “Hey… y’all right?”
Aravali leaned over her as well, scanning her up and down for a moment before he and Crowe both took her by the arms and gently helped her to her feet. When the woman was upright, her bandana was halfway off, her hairs askew, and she buried her face in her palms again, trying to repress her cries and failing.
“Eve!” Tommy growled, stopping at the top of the stairs and glaring down at the woman as he wiped the blood from his face with the sleeve of his jacket.
The woman, Eve, removed her hands from her face and gazed up at him.
“I’m sorry—but I fucking can’t,” Tommy snapped. “I fucking can’t with her anymore. You need to have that little brat put in an institution somewhere. I’m done. I am fucking done .”
Then—the man stormed down the stairs and shoved past them, thundering down the rest of the stairway and disappearing from the scene altogether.
Aravali and Crowe watched him go, then glanced at one another, Eve sniffing and covering her face once more.
“Here… come here,” Aravali said kindly, beginning to escort her up the stairs. “Can you walk okay?”
Eve swallowed and nodded as the doctor guided her carefully up to the third floor. Crowe did the same, then paused halfway up the stairs and looked back down them, spotting the three scattered envelopes of the woman’s mail on the stairway’s midsection; he made a subtle flourish of the wrist and sent the envelopes whizzing through the air up towards him, and he swiftly caught them before resuming his pace up the way.
The three of them started down the hallway together, and the moment Eve spotted ZeeZee, she stopped crying and wiped her tears away, moving forward and lifting the small girl off of the floor, holding her and cradling her lovingly. ZeeZee coiled her tiny arms around her mother’s neck, clinging onto her and sniffling sadly as she did.
The mother and daughter stood at the threshold of their open apartment, and Eve then turned to face Crowe and Aravali, giving them a weak smile and a nod.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly.
“Not at all, love,” Crowe replied, holding up her mail and handing it to her.
Eve took the three envelopes with her fingers, holding them crookedly while she adjusted her grasp on her daughter.
“I’m sorry,” the woman muttered in a hoarse, exhausted rasp, peeking past them at the apartment across the way, its door still ajar. “Are you, um… are you new…?”
“Oh yeah… fairly new,” Crowe affirmed, gesturing back to the other apartment. “Just moved in, as it happens.”
“Oh… well… sorry you had to see all that,” Eve sighed.
“No trouble at all,” Crowe said, scratching his face and glancing down the hall at the stairway. “But, um… shouldn’t someone go and… get her? The other little girl, I mean…”
Eve looked down at the floor, her expression heavy and almost gaunt, releasing a heavier cloud of breath.
“Yeah,” she murmured, sounding anything but enthused to do so. “Tommy’s not gonna do it again. My brother’s been staying with me to… try and help me with KeeKee… but… I can’t really blame him for leaving at this point…”
She paused, biting her lip rather hard, looking as if she was trying her best to keep from crying again.
“Well… anyway,” Eve said, shaking her head once and stepping back to close her door. “Thanks for your help… I’m sorry for the scene…”
“Hold on,” Crowe said, raising a finger. “D’you need some help going to look for her? Because we’ve got plenty of free time right now. We wouldn’t mind.”
Eve stood stock still, one hand on her door, the other wrapped around ZeeZee, merely staring at them, her expression beginning to fracture.
“Yes,” she choked in a broken voice. “I would really appreciate some help, please… thank you so much…”
“No trouble at all, love,” Crowe smiled.
“Okay, I need t… um…” Eve sputtered, glancing around. “I need to fix my hair and find my purse… um… I’ll be out in just a second…”
“All right,” Aravali replied. “Take your time.”
Eve nodded and closed her door.
Then, Crowe and Aravali shared an intense look.
“Well’p… we wanted an opening, and we definitely got one,” Crowe remarked, stepping back over to James’s apartment and reaching inside for his mail table. “I reckon it wasn’t the dad that James has been hearing. It was the uncle. And… that bloke just flew the coop.”
“Seems so,” Aravali mumbled.
Crowe pulled the small drawer open, took the spare key from it, and slid it shut again, pocketing the key before stepping out and pulling the apartment door closed.
“I reckon the one they call ‘KeeKee’ is the source of all the stress, too,” he commented.
“Yeah,” Aravali said grimly, staring over at Eve’s door. “And… I have a feeling I know what’s going on here. I’ve seen something like this before.”
Crowe blinked and gave him an odd look. “Whaddo you mean, you’ve seen this before?”
Aravali let out a grave cloud of breath, then turned to him.
“I’ll bet it’s either RAD or ASPD,” he stated. “I’ve seen this with a child once before… a long time ago.”
Crowe shot him a double-take. “Okay… first of all, I don’t know what any of those letters actually mean … and second of all… I thought you never actually worked as a psychiatrist until you came to Moonvale?”
“Oh… I hadn’t,” Aravali told him. “I came straight to Moonvale after I got my diploma… but I saw this situation with another family long before I ever went to college. It was when my mother and I lived in a different area in Mapleview… back when Pinefield Trailer Park used to still be on the west side of town. When we lived there, we had a family next door to us who was just like this… a sociopathic child that caused absolute chaos and havoc in the home, destroying things, abusing siblings, making the parents absolutely miserable and exhausted… honestly, it was one of the first things to prompt me to go to school for this kind of thing.”
“Ohhh,” Crowe nodded with understanding, glancing over at Eve’s apartment, then back. “You think that’s what’s going on here too…?”
“Well… it certainly looks that way,” Aravali replied. “Same symptoms and all. Lack of empathy, violent, unmannered, cruel, unable to connect with others…”
“Sounds like all the things that point to someone being a psychopath,” Crowe remarked.
“Well…” Aravali nodded sideways. “ASPD encompasses that. If a person is a psychopath… then they have ASPD.”
They both fell silent for a moment.
“Y’know,” Crowe uttered. “Zyon thinks that a lot of mental disorders are evil… like… they’re meant to make it easier for demons to get into you.”
“Well… a year ago, I would’ve said that was insane,” Aravali said. “But, considering all I’ve seen now… it wouldn’t surprise me at all if that was true. Turns out mental health is all-important no matter what you believe in…”
“Oy—you’ve got your wallet on you, right?” Crowe asked.
Aravali made an odd face and patted the pocket of his dark jacket. “Yeah. Why?”
“Because… we might be able to swing by somewhere while we’re out and see if we can’t get your documentation up-to-date,” Crowe told him. “We’ll have a New York homebody with us. She can tell us where we have to go.”
“Ah.” Aravali nodded. “Good point.”
“M’yeap,” Crowe uttered, glancing over at the hall window and gazing thoughtfully out at the city’s skyline. “It all starts here.”
Eve emerged from her apartment moments after, her hair now neatly combed back beneath her bandana, and her tiny black purse hanging from her arm. Her hand was wrapped around Zee-Zee’s, and the young girl was no longer wearing her school backpack, covered in a puffy blue winter coat instead.
They all grouped up and walked down the stairs together.
When the group reached the outside—the blistering winter air washing over them—Eve stepped toward the street and waited patiently for a taxi to roll close before raising her hand and hailing it. Then, she led her daughter over to the car, waving for her new companions to follow.
Aravali and Crowe exchanged glances before they did so.
And at that—with all of them crammed into the back of a New York taxi cab, gazing out the windows in search of the runaway girl with the amazing sights of the city very slowly passing them by—the adventure in the big apple began.
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