Author's Note: I hope you enjoy Chapter 2! And I promise, Chapter 3 will be here soon!


April 12, 1994

Violet glanced down at the letter to L once more. Nothing was what it seemed. Not her letters to L, delivered by her dad; not L's gifts; not even her grandfather. She had tried to ignore it for all these months; tried to disbelieve it. But she was left with nothing but that dim shred of knowledge, and many questions.

Looking ahead, she could see the city. It was closer than she'd expected. Soon they would be in bumper to bumper traffic, surrounded by taxis, walled in by skyscrapers on every side.

It's such a big city… so easy to get lost, so easy to get left… She shivered. What was this horrible feeling nagging at her every thought? There was no reason to feel this way… yet she could not escape the fear building up inside her. I don't want to be here! I want to go home!

"Mom!"

"Yes?" Ulna replied, sounding irritated.

"Um…" Violet gulped. I'm such a baby, she thought. "Um… what stores are we going to?"

"Well…" Ulna pulled a red lipstick out of her purse and began applying it. "We're going… out to lunch. Do you want hoagies or pizza?"

Violet sighed.

"I'm not hungry," she responded. Her stomach felt like a tight knot of apprehension.


The silence of the room was shattered by the loud ringing of the telephone.

A bony, wrinkled hand reached to lift it off the receiver.

"Hello?" the old man answered politely. "Ah, so they're here?" he turned around to make eye contact with the only other person in the room. "Finally! I was beginning to worry. Please send them up right away. Thank you. Goodbye."

The old man put the phone back on the receiver.

"Please prepare tea, Watari," ordered the black-haired boy who sat crouched in front of a computer.

"Of course. Shall it be tea for three, then?" Asked the older gentleman.

"No. For five."


Violet was surprised when they drove into the drop off zone of an expensive looking hotel.

"What are we doing here?" Violet asked worriedly as her mother got out of the car. "I thought you said we were getting lunch!"

Her father handed her mother his briefcase, and gave her a silent nod, before replying to Violet.

"You'll see. Go on! There's nothing to be afraid of."

If there's nothing to be afraid of, then why do I hear fear in your voice, Daddy?

Ulna impatiently grabbed her daughter's arm and hurried her out of the car. Ulna was a tall, large-boned lady who was sometimes rather forceful, despite her smooth, quiet way with words.

Violet turned to look back at her father. He wasn't getting out of the car.

"Bye, dear," Ulna said calmly to her husband, as she shut the car door.

Violet's father drove away, but Violet had no time to figure out what was going on, because her mother had already entered the hotel. Violet ran after her and entered into the hotel lobby.

While her mother spoke to the person at the front desk, Violet stood in the middle of the lobby and just stared.

The floor was tiled with glossy white marble. A gaudy crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling in the center of the room, casting light on a modern-looking black marble fountain below it. Soft light from tinted windows shone in from odd angles, creating a magnificent entrance.

Around the square black fountain were white sofas. Each were clustered around glass coffee tables which were each laden with huge bouquets of orange lilies.

It was the orange lilies that did it.

I've seen this place before, Violet realized. But the realization only brought her more confusion. But I don't remember ever being here before. What is this? Why can't I remember?

The 11-year old closed her eyes and wracked her brain. Then she opened her eyes again and stared at the flowers, at the vase, at the table, at the fountain, at the room—and back to the flowers. It hadn't helped. She still could not get past the initial recognition of them.

There they stood, unaffected by the torture they were causing her. The thick stems…the wide leaves…the bright petals…. Each holding a significant meaning for her life, each refusing to give up the secret.

The questions flying through Violet's brain intensified, and were answered only by blind fear.

Nothing is what it seems. Everything I trust is wrong! Mother, why did you bring me here? Father, why are you afraid? Grandfather, why did you stop smiling? Why did you leave me?

The orange lilies started to grow before her eyes. Their orange hue began leaking into the air around them, shimmering into a burnt pumpkin color before fading into the dim of the rest of the world…. Now it was all gray: black and white was now saturated in gray.

L, is this the real world?

Clear was fading.

How can it be?

Confusion was solidifying.

Who are you?

The gray was spinning. There was a rushing in her ears, and suddenly she was falling. Violet gasped as the hard floor rushed towards her.

But the white marble floor felt soft, like a cloud, rising and carrying her past the orange lilies, past the tall woman with the red lipstick, past the man at the front desk. Past the people, all in the way, crowding in on her. Then, she went up—and the first floor faded into a memory, well forgotten, for another time.

Violet sighed in resignation as the darkness enveloped her.