"Conner. Conner wake up you're already running late," Haytham said, less than pleased that Connor wasn't already dressed and ready for school. Connor turned over, his face contorted in pain for a moment with the dream he was having until Haytham shook him again. He opened his eyes and stared at his father for a moment before rolling over without saying a word.

"Connor Kenway," he said sternly. "Get out of bed. You're going to end up failing if you don't show up."

Connor frowned but didn't make an effort to get up or even look at Haytham. "No one's going to fail a kid whose mom died last week." Haytham stepped back, surprised at the darkness surounding the boy's words. Connor finally sighed and stood up, refusing to even glance at this man who he had started living with.

The older man cleared his throat and said, "Well, breakfast is downstairs when you're ready." Turning on his heel, he left the room.

With very little energy, Connor did get dressed, then with even less energy he slowly made his way downstairs for breakfast. Upon sitting on one of the bar stools, Haytham handed his son a plate with frozen waffles and bacon. Connor mostly just stared at it.

"Connor you need nutrition. I know I'm not the best cook but I refuse to let you starve yourself."

The sixteen year olf grunted in slight acknowlegment and pushed his plate back a little, opting instead for a glass of orange juice. Haytham sighed, defeated. He'd barely seen the kid eat all week. Though he couldn't blame him. What with Ziio dying and all...

"Is Connor Kenway in class, Mr. Davenport?" a pleasant intercom voice asked.

"Why yes he is," the older man replied, stopping his history lesson.

"Could I get him in the office with his things please?"

Connor stood, slinging his back pack over his shoulder after stuffing his books away.

"Remember, Connor, test tomorrow." Connor nodded at his favourite teacher and went to the office where he was called, slightly confused because he thought his mother was still at work cleaning Mr. Lee's house. It was only 11:00 afterall...

He stepped into the main office and suddenly felt the sullen air, hot and thick with whatever had happened. Connor, confused, looked at the secratary who stood up and hugged him arcoss the shoulder. He wasn't sure why she was doing that, but when she saw a policeman and a lady in a pencil skirt who he knew as a grief counceler here at school, his heart sank.

'Why were they here?' he wondered nervously. 'Why're they waiting for me with those expressions?'

He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and entered the room. The secretary shut the door for their privacy, but the whole office could see them because of the glass. "Connor Kenway?" the policeman asked. His heartrate picked up. He nooded slowly.

"Would you care to take a seat?" the counceler asked. He slowly sat as if he were on autopilot. Was he in trouble? Was someone else in trouble? He was so confused and even scared that he didn't even ask questions.

"We regret to inform you, Mr. Kenway, that there has been...an accident," the counceler said, pursing her lips and choosing her words carefully. By the way the policeman shifted and coughed into his hand, he could tell he wasn't so pleased with her word choice.

Connor paled a little, his breath hitching. "W-what kind of accident?" he asked slowly. The cop looked down sightly in what seemed to be respect-but very well could have been pity-,folding his hands in front of him as he stood behind the counceler's chair.

"The house that belongs to Charles Lee caught fire and burned to the ground this morning," she stated, her voice not wavering. She had obviously been the bearer of bad news before. "There was one casualty." That could only be one person. Because they would not be here informing him if his mother's boss had been the one who died.

The sixteen year old boy was not sure how to react. The news did not sink in. He could imagine it. And for a slight second he could almost smell the burning of the fire. He could taste the ashes on his tongue and could feel his throat closing up-but this time not from the fire but from grief.

Tears stung his eyes but he did not let them fall. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"We have contacted your father, Haytham Kenway, and there is a court date set up."

"Why?" he questioned, his voice cracking and unsure.

"If Haytham Kenway deems a suitible caretaker by the judge, you will probably end up living with him. Connor, we are very sorry for your loss."

There was a knock at the door. Connor stood up and slung his backback over his shoulder before trudging over to answer it.

"Connor?" Haytham called. He turned slightly, both of their eyes meeting. "I'll be late tonight. Maybe you could stay at a friends?" he suggests. "It is Friday afterall..."

The dark haird boy shrugs. "Maybe," he mumbles and answers the door. There Desmond stands, waiting a bit impatiently for his friend so they can get to school. They quickly hurry to the car that is packed full of their posse. Lucy sits next to Desmond up front and Shaun, Rebecca and Connor sit in the back. Rebecca looks at Connor with unintentional pity that Connor just can't stand.

"Would you guys not be so God damn sullen?" he snapped. Lucy seemed surprised by his little outburst, but the other three just looked down into their laps. "Yeah," he said, "I'm a wreck, I know. But let's just...go back to normal, okay?" he asked.

Desmond pulled out of Haytham's long driveway and started a quiet conversation with Lucy. Rebecca put in her headphones and listened to music quietly while scrolling through her Facebook. Shaun read a book and Connor occupied himself with looking out the window, watching nature pass by him and wishing summer break would just start already.