Forgiveness is a rebirth of hope, a reorganization of thought, and a reconstruction of dreams- Beverly Flanigan

Prologue II 

Present

Frank detested the NOPD police investigator that he was studying- tall, with stringy brown hair that had started to recede. The unwelcomed packaged came dressed in a seedy brown suit. Maybe the man, in his early fifties, had been handsome once- with that sturdy build, steel-blue eyes and strong chin. Besides the eyes, he almost seemed genial and from some angles, oddly familiar. But Frank had became extremely wary of anyone who could- in one way or another- force his brother back to that dark corner of his mind and cause the wounds to bleed once again.

This investigator, with his questioning, though neutral and almost gentle, was making Joe uncomfortable. Frank had no idea why an NOPD officer would be so interested in Vanessa’s death. If he suspected Joe- a doubt that was long laid to rest in those hearts that cared about his brother and knew who Joe really was- then Frank would have details for him to chew on.

Plenty. Until he vomits from binging on clues and evidence.

He not only seemed to be overtly curious about Vanessa’s death, but in the two young men’s private lives as well. Somehow, he probably knew Frank and Joe would be alone at home that late afternoon and decided to pay the both of them a visit. Always hospitable, Frank had allowed him in and was now regretting it, kicking his own butt mentally for two million and one times.

Because the man was tensing Joe up. Joe was shuffling his feet and fidgeting in his seat, his eyes focused on the floor and his breathing erratic. The first thing the man said was that he was paying them a visit to talk about the events surrounding Vanessa’s death and if they had anything to tell him.

"Maybe you’ll like to introduce yourself first." Frank’s caustic question broke the short spell of silence. He had memorized the haggard and determined face. Now, he wanted the name to the man who had given Joe a brief accusatory stare the moment he saw Joe emerging from the kitchen. From Joe’s immediate downcast eyes, an ill at ease response to the man’s cutting stare- Frank knew that Joe caught it too.

The man glanced at Frank before returning his steel gaze onto Joe who could not receive it. Joe was still staring at the floor. They were in the Hardy’s living room, with Frank and Joe seated on the long couch and the NOPD investigator on the armchair perpendicular them. The coffee table was bare. Frank had wanted to bring out glasses of water until he realized what the policeman wanted.

If he wants a drink, he can swallow his own saliva.

I could have been hospitable but he had given Joe "The Look". The one Look no one should ever give my brother.

Joe should have enough of it. Every time he faces the mirror, the Look stares back at him.

He should have enough of it.

"I’m sorry. Pardon me. I’m Jacob Kenzer. But I think your brother probably knows who am I, right Joe?"

Frank gave Joe a curious look but Joe did not look up. He saw Joe biting his lips before mumbling a guttural, "Yah."

"What’s your business here?" Frank interrogated the police officer. The elder man was probably not very used to being questioned, to having the roles reversed. He raised an eyebrow at Frank and then leaned slightly forward.

"Like I said before. The Bender girl’s death."

"Why? Bayport’s not your jurisdiction."

"I have a personal interest. Will that suffice?"

"If I have everyone who has a personal interest coming up to ask about Vanessa, I assure you, you’ll have to wait a hundred years before we can get to you. Sorry but I think you must go." Frank jerked his head towards the door. "We shan’t be…"

But his rude dismissal was interrupted by Joe who placed a restraining hand on Frank’s forearm. Frank gave Joe a sidelong glance with narrowed eyes- his unhidden annoyance with the guy clearly projected. He did not want to hide it. Better if the Kenzer guy knew that he had overstayed his welcome.

Joe shook his head.

"I’ll be alright Frank. What do you want to know, Jacob?"

No. You’ll not be alright. Not now. Why do you always say that? When will you learn to protect yourself? There’s no need…no need to…

Frank could not finish his thought. He had no idea where those mental rambles would bring him to. He never said them straight to Joe’s face though- he concluded that he did not know how.

Jacob Kenzer gave Frank a slight look of triumph, earning himself Frank’s lethal glare. If he dared to mess around with Joe’s mind, he would have Frank to deal with.

That’s not a pretty thought. Given my mood now.

"I’ll start with around two weeks ago, alright?"

"As long as you tell me about the progress of events, anything is alright."

Joe leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. Frank knew Joe was remembering. Two weeks ago. So many things had transpired. A month had passed since Joe almost decided to end his life for good.

But he didn’t. My little brother didn’t. He won’t let me down.

Still with his eyes closed, Joe began to present snippets of details that would be relevant to Jacob’s question. But Frank knew the memories behind the words, or at least some of them. And looking at Joe’s face, a picture of mixed agony and recovery, Frank remembered too.

"As always, it starts with running. For me, it always starts with running." His brother’s voice-which had became softer after the experiences- sounded so achingly whimsical.