Diary
Alfred Ashford's secret diary, containing his thoughts, his emotions at a tender age.
Entry Two:
April 20, 1982
8:10 PM
I think Harman is on to us. Yesterday, he asked me about what really happened to father, how he died. I told him the reason Alexia and I have cooked up - father had an accident in the Antarctic Transport Terminal. We tried to make the story authentic, Alexia even hiring a man to create a life-sized, exact replica of our father's body and even had everyone to arrive to a small funeral, including Harman. I think he, however, noticed something different that no one noticed before: the pierce.
Hours ago, he asked about our father's pierce, a questiont that caught me off-guard. I haven't thought of plans and plots to answer that simple question, and both of us knew that the pierce was so special that father won't let it out of his sight. We both knew that he hid it in a desk drawer. I was incredibly confused as to what I would say, but fortunately, Alexia just arrived from her private lab and found us deep in silent "conversation". She told Harman that it's the least of our worries, and that she was sure it was somewhere else, because father's actions aren't always consistent. Satisfied but suspicious, Harman left us.
That should be all. I should remember to select my words carefully around Harman, or I might let something slip.
A/N: Well, that's Alfred's second entry. I kind of got lost a few times and had to edit it for consistency. I know I should write stuff about Alfred and Alexia, but I think Harman deserves a bit of the spotlight, don't you think? Next entry will be an Alfred/Alexia one, for sure.