When Salvadore had walked back into his hometown, it had been with a smile and a heart full of eagerness. It took only moments for him to realize something was off, a thin fog of confusion beginning to overpower his sunshine. No one was to be found-and the normally lively streets were never empty.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern as Salvadore stopped to write another note on the stationery in his bag. He wrote to his friend, the prisoner, maybe more for Sal to get his growing worry down on paper-for his own comfort-rather than to notify his friend of anything. 'Where is everyone?' he wrote. After sending the letter, Salvadore walked a while longer down the dull, lifeless streets.

Somewhere along the way he noticed a family in the house, blinds open. Salvadore felt a little relieved to see other life in the town. He knocked on the window, causing the woman closest to the window to jump. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before she opened the window slightly. "You're not infected, are you?"

"In...fected?" Sal repeated, his friendly smile faltering a little. "No-I've been out traveling-I'm tryin' to figure out what's goin' on here."

The woman looked disheartened. "Oh, my, I'm sorry you had to come back to this."

Through the window, Salvadore was explained to about the virus, all the lives being taken, the organs this "Doctor Money" was selling. How long have I been gone? They were holed up in their house in an effort to keep themselves and the children from being exposed to the virus. Salvadore nodded in thanks when she finished talking, and the moment he turned to walk away they slid the window closed.

Salvadore couldn't believe it. Despite the fact that his family had already been gone, he still felt a deep sense of loss and hopelessness. He sat, leaning against the house as he exhaled heavily. He needed to write another letter.

A few more moments of walking aimlessly around the depressing town, and a new sound reached his ears. Music. Music meant life! Maybe it was someone calling out, a signal.

He ran toward the sound, sprinting faster than he'd ever run in all his years of adventuring. He ran and ran until his legs burned and he finally came across the source of the music.

With a huge grin and tears of relief, Salvadore knocked on the door to the pastry shop. A woman opened the door within seconds, jaw dropping. "Are you...are you my friend from the prison?"

Before Salvadore could get out a reply, the stranger was wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. A bit surprised, Salvadore returned the hug. "No-but I'm friends with the prisoner."

The woman let him go, waving him inside. "My name's Charlotte, and I've been writing to him for a few days now," she told him as they entered the building.

Sal tipped his hat to her. "Salvadore. I've known 'im since he was a kid." His eyes darkened. "We need to get him out of there."

Charlotte pulled out a second chair for Sal to use, and he glanced at a letter she'd been writing on the desk beside them. He was tempted to read it, but he wouldn't want to invade her privacy. "How?" she asked him.

Salvadore sat. "Well…" he began slowly, "I know everything's powered by a generator, includin' the doors. We'll haveta figure out how t' shut 'em off without getting caught."

Charlotte stood beside him, looking like she wanted to ask a question.

"What?"

"...Would you mind if I braided your hair?" she asked carefully.

Salvadore was a bit surprised by the question, but he just stood and shook his head. "No, go right on ahead," he answered, offering her the chair. She took his chair and he sat on the ground in front of her.

As she braided his long, dark brown locks, they discussed ideas for the perfect plan. "We could just smash it with a rock."

"Why on earth would that be a good idea?"

"Well, do you have a better one?" After a pause, Sal asked, "Miss Charlotte, would y' mind passing me some stationery?"

Charlotte reached behind her and gave him some pink stationery from the desk, along with a pen, before resuming her braiding. Salvadore leaned forward to write, and Charlotte chided him. "Stay still!"

"Friend!" Salvadore said aloud as he wrote, "I followed the music to Miss Charlotte and I just want you to know we're both alright. We're thinking of a plan to get you out of there-"

"Wait-don't write that," Charlotte protested, "We don't know how private these letters are, and if Doctor Money reads it we're giving ourselves away."

Sal thought for a second before erasing the sentence. "We hope you're doing alright. Don't worry, everything will be okay." He wanted to still let his friend know help was on the way, but it made sense that it wouldn't be smart to write that down, so maybe he could still offer him some reassurance. "Poor kid," he murmured, "Hope he's alright."

If Charlotte heard him, she didn't comment. "That sounds good," she told him as he signed. Salvadore passed her the paper, and she tied his hair with a ribbon before signing her own name. "'Sal,' huh?"

"Yeah, most people like t' call me that," Salvadore answered before frowning. "Well-liked," he corrected. He couldn't believe so many were dead.

Charlotte gave him a sad smile. "So...about that plan…"

"Do we just...walk in?"

The adventurer and the pastry shop owner were staring up at the tall building looming over them, mustering up as much courage as they could before they set their scheme into motion.

Salvadore looked over at Charlotte and shrugged. "I don't see another way."

Charlotte looked troubled. "Let's try our best to be careful, though, okay?"

Salvadore nodded, opening the door to the building. As he and Charlotte walked in, Sal was taken aback. None of the rooms in the hall-nor the walls or halls themselves-looked like they belonged in a prison. His first instinct was to write his friend, but one glance over at Charlotte and he knew not to. Right. Stealth.

"This place was never meant to be a prison," Charlotte said softly, echoing his thoughts.

Sal carefully turned a corner. "See, I don't know where exactly the generator would be…so this may be pretty difficult."

"Right," Charlotte responded.

It took a bit of searching but finally Salvadore pushed open a door to find exactly what they were looking for. "Eureka! Miss Charlotte, in here-I'll keep watch."

With a nod, Charlotte pushed past him to get to the generator. Salvadore heard some shuffling before there was a high-pitched yelp. "Ouch!"

Concerned, the traveler looked over his shoulder. "Careful, doll."

Charlotte shook out her hand and grimaced. "I don't quite know how these things work."

"Need help?"

"No, I think I've...got it…" As soon as the words reached Salvadore's ears, the lights turned red and all sound ceased.

Making a quick scan of the halls, Salvadore grabbed Charlotte by the arm. "Run, run, run!"

"Wh-wait, what about him?"

"He'll know what to do," Sal assured her, "He's a smart kid."

They ran right out the front door and a short distance away from the prison, so they'd be able to meet with their friend but so they'd also be able to run if chased after. "And now," Salvadore breathed, "We wait."

Several minutes passed and Salvadore began to worry. "Where-?" His eyes widened and for a moment, he completely forgot about Charlotte standing next to him. He ran to meet his younger friend, who looked tired and worn but gave him a lopsided smile as Sal crashed into him and gave him a strong hug. "You good? After all this time-I…" He backed up to look into his friend's face. I was beginning to lose hope. "You...you're still lookin' good, buddy."

Nodding, the other answered, "Yeah, it's good to see you. Let's get out of this place." His eyes focused on the woman standing across from him. "Charlotte?"

Charlotte was teary-eyed. "I'm glad to finally meet you, hon."

The three of them walked the short distance to Charlotte's shop in silence. Strangely, they didn't have all that much to say.

"It probably isn't safe here," Charlotte told them, appearing to be tidying up the place, "Doctor Money's paid me some visits here before. Do you two have anywhere we could go?" None of them questioned it-they were staying together.

Salvadore looked over at her, scratching his head. "Well...we c'n go an' see if my place is still in good shape," he suggested, knowing his house was secure, however small it may have been.

They all agreed, and after Charlotte packed up some belongings-reluctantly leaving the gramophone but folding up and tucking into her bag the letter she'd left on her desk-the trio began the trek to Sal's house. This time, they chatted until their mouths felt tired, and the way they fit together it felt somehow like Charlotte had always been there with them.

During the middle of their conversation, Charlotte said, "Hey…" which caused both Salvadore and the ex-prisoner to look over at her. She was looking past Sal at the other. "'Scuse me hon, but somehow I never asked. What is your name?"

One sheepish smile and a good laugh later, the boy finally opened his mouth to give his answer.