Chapter 29
Happy Families Part 2
He held the present close to his chest, the sparkly paper crinkling against his coat. It was just a simple present, he knew that, and yet as he held it, it felt like so much more. He couldn't guess what was in the box, although it would be something for a little girl, but that was beside the point. It like like all the hope, all the happiness that had gathered up in that family before the Wu's met their demise, it was all stored in here. He couldn't help but let his grip on it get tighter.
"You've been clutching onto that box for a few blocks now. What's wrong Garret, feeling sentimental?" Amelia called out to him with a smug grin. She came screeching to a stop at an intersection, the sheer force of sudden deceleration causing the back half of the bike to lift up into the air, before crashing back down again. It took every bit of effort for Garret to not lose his balance and go flying into oncoming traffic. By now he was sure she was intentionally trying to lose him, like some haywire rodeo machine.
"You don't feel anything after listening to that tale? No empathy towards them?" He replied coldly. She didn't have to look back at him to know what kind of face he was pulling at her.
"Of course I do!" Not missing a beat, she replied with cheery spirits. "However, feeling sad or empathetic doesn't undo what's already happened. Being diligent and getting to the bottom of things? That does. That does a lot." She turned around to flash him one of her cattish grins, but at the same time he could see something behind it, some emotion that ran much deeper into her than he dared to ask.
The detective sat there stunned, unable to give her a reply. It wasn't what she said that stunned him, he knew the truth of her words long ago. It was the fact that they were coming out of her mouth that robbed him of a reply. It was… well. First impressions had led him to the conclusion that she was some empty headed bimbo out to grab a few dollars over some gaudy story, and yet every now and then, he was beginning to find, she had something smart to say.
His mouth silently smacked open and closed like a drowning fish as he tried to force out a retort, before he relaxed, chuckling to himself.
"What? I didn't say anything funny." She said to him, perturbed at his inexplicable response.
"No, you didn't." He agreed, shaking his head. "It's just that I wasn't expecting wise words to come out of your mouth."
"Oh how cruel of you, my maiden heart is broken!" She gasped, clutching her chest in mock horror, before poking her tongue out at him. "Good thing I don't give a shit about what you think."
Before the lights had barely finished turning green the bike was off again, nearly clipping the back end of a truck as they raced through the intersection.
"The feeling is mutual." He countered. "Besides that, I thought you only cared about the money?"
"Oh don't get me wrong, I LOVE money! I'm all about The Green." She boasted, not afraid to admit her carnal love. "But aside from the sweet, sweet feel of Benjamins between my fingers, there's a feeling I get whenever an article I've written damns a criminal to prison or sets someone free of their suffering. I can't explain it, but more than anything else, it makes me feel alive. It makes going through all this bullshit feel like an acceptable trade-off."
"That's called a soul, and I'm surprised you have one."
Amelia gave out a loud snort, her hair attacking his eyes like millions of little snakes in the wind as she threw her head back to howl with laughter. He went to scowl at her, and yet he found himself laughing as well. It was a weird situation, but not at all unpleasant.
"Pshaw, and if I ever see a cop with a soul that'll be the day I start believing in fairies again!"
"If that's the case you should have never stopped believing!"
"Hah, we can't all be naive and wide-eyed like you forever, DeWitts!"
"Alright alright, where are we going next? This time I want to know who's home I'm walking into before we get there."
Amelia was a little hurt that he so suddenly changed the topic. The investigation was the number one priority, of course, but what was wrong with having a little banter? Next time she'd choose someone with a better sense of humour.
Although, as she peeked back it him, clutching that present, trying his best to hide the fear on his face from her awesome driving skills, she couldn't help but smile and be grateful it had been him. Even if he was a massive dork.
"About the next family, they were unwilling to talk to me last time, so I could only grab snippets of information from the neighbours. This time though, I'm sure they'll cooperate with the police on my side~"
"Oho, is that why you brought me along? Just for that?" He scowled at her.
"Nothing says 'co-operate' more than a police detective on your doorstep! At least, legally anyway. Besides, You'll probably pick up on things I might not notice, however slim the chance. That's what detectives are for, right?"
"Well… yes, it is our job to investigate crime, but you're portraying us far more brutish than reality." he said huffily.
"Wow, it's almost as if you haven't made out like I'm the devil incarnate since we first met!" Amelia jeered. "Anyway, the missing kid's name is Sasha Collingwood, a Caucasian boy that disappeared at the age of nine. He was the child of one Dorothy Collingwood and one Gabriel Collingwood." As she filled him in, she took one hand off the handlebars to reach into her bag and rifle around. The bike teetered and threatened to crash violently, but even now on the cusp of death she seemed unphased, rustling around until she could hand him the correct file.
For his own sanity Garret pretending that potential disaster had never occurred, diverting his attention to the piece of paper in his hand. Compared to Lucy's file, this one was surprisingly small, just a single page. And then things got baffling. Lucy's file had been littered with photos across her life, from her as a baby in Lan-Fen's arms right up to her final days, smiling brightly in the garden with Miss Whimley.
But in stark contrast to her's, this boy only had one photo of him. A small, thin boy with light blonde hair and a dash of freckles across his nose, above them a pair of deep blue eyes sparkling with joy as the photo was captured. Below him on a table sat a small cake, adorned with 9 candles and in red icing the words 'Happy 9th Birthday Sasha!' emblazoned across it. It looked like a normal, healthy scene, until he saw the background past the smiling child.
"Wait, was this taken at Fazbear's?" He asked, already knowing the answer but dreading confirmation anyway.
"Yep, that was taken on the day he went missing. Did I forget to mention he was there for his 9th birthday party?"
"Yes, you did forget. Well, are there any other photos? It's strange for there to be just one image like this." He mused, taking another look at the image. At a second glance, he could see a woman in the background, same eyes and hair as Sasha, but noticeably gaunt and exceptionally tall, not to mention she was dressed in old fashion clothing. In fact, were she were any taller Garret would begin to think she were inhuman. She stood with her arms crossed, glaring disapprovingly at the happy Sasha.
"That's the thing. That photo is the only known image of Sasha Collingwood. If it weren't for that, and for government files, then he technically wouldn't exist. I don't know if they're just extremely security conscious or whatever, but they definitely don't like information about themselves getting out of their own home."
Garret let out a deep sigh. There was being security conscious, and then there was this. And he has seen enough of this to know it didn't cleanly boil down to keeping family safe.
"This family isn't going to be much happier than the last one, I suspect…" Garret uttered, a sense of dread and agitation taking hold of his stomach and coiling tighter and tighter, reaching a near crescendo as they came to a stop, Amelia leaping off the bike at the same time.
"Definitely not, detective. Like I said, they wouldn't talk to me last time, but if what the neighbours have to say are true, we're dealing with one mega dysfunctional family - A real anathema to family values." Amelia said to him, folding her arms as she sized up the house in front of them.
It was just the same as she had seen it before. Large, two story house with a high metal fence, with sturdy iron bars on every single window. It was the sort of house you'd expect criminals under house arrest to dwell in, not a family trying to raise a child.
"I can tell just by looking this isn't good." Garret muttered, following her gaze towards that foreboding house. Compared to all the bright and cheery residences surrounding it in this middle-income neighbourhood, it stood tall and offensive with its grey walls and titanic steel fence, like a sword stabbed deep into the heart of the land.
"Wait until you see the friendly people inside." Amelia remarked bitterly, gripping his sleeve tightly as she near dragged him to the house, pushing past the big metal gate as it screeched it's protest to their invasion. Garret noted the fluttering of the curtains as they approached the front door.
"Oh, I forgot to say!" Amelia harshly whispered to him, leaning into his collar to prevent anyone else from prying into their conversation. "These people apparently have an… exotic lifestyle. They're thin skinned and easily offended, so we need to walk on eggshells if we want to get anywhere with this interview, got it?"
Garret stayed silent and nodded in affirmation, but his eyes bulged out of his head and swiveled to look at her with a death stare. 'Bitch, you could have told me this earlier!' those dilated pupils shrieked.
They had barely made it onto the front porch when the door swung open, Garret sharply gasping as two faces appeared in the dark doorframe, one of them still fresh in his mind.
It was the woman in the photo, the one standing in the background, and in life she seemed even more titanic than the photo had led him to believe. She stood there, arms folded behind her back, head tilted low so he couldn't get a proper view of her face. Beside her stood a stocky man, arms folded in front of him and head held up high, only so he could peer down at them callously.
While the man was dressed rather casually, the woman could almost be mistaken for a doll the way she was propped up, a thick hide of makeup adorned her face, hiding any sort of blemish to give her an ethereal, unnatural sort of beauty. An oversized maroon ballroom gown with white frills covered up as much of her body as possible, and a broad, wide-brimmed hat which was almost comical in side covered much of her face, especially when it was downcast so.
This odd pair, this unassuming average joe and the doll beside him, were such an odd and sudden site that Garret had to stifle back a smirk.
"Mr and Mrs Collingwood, so wonderful to see you!" Amelia burst out into a convincingly joyed smile as she stepped towards them, one knee bent as she gave them a dainty little curtsey, such a delicate and divergent gesture from the typically tomboyish woman that it threw Garret off.
"What are you doing here again?" The man grumbled quickly but lowly, he held his posture straight but Garret's sharp eyes readily noted how tense he truly was, like a guard dog about to pounce. "I told you not to come back here again, I'm not interested in your evil mass-media agenda." He continued to growl lowly.
Garret smirked, but Amelia's kindly masquerade didn't falter as she shook her head. "Oh no dear sir, I'm not here on my own, I'm accompanying him." Garret's smirk dissipated as she pointed at him, everyone's gaze shifting his way.
"And just who is he? Another Spouter of Lies?" Garret calmly returned the stern expression as he dug into his pocket, procuring his police badge so the man could see.
"Police detective Garret Dewitts. I'm here leading an investigation into some missing persons, we believe the culprit responsible is the same one who abducted your child at Fazbear's Pizzeria those years ago."
It was a harsh and straightforward explanation, but it gave the effect Garret had intended. Seeing his badge and his no-nonsense demeanor, the pair stiffened up, but remained on guard.
"And why should we help you?"
"Because people are disappearing near every day and we can't stop until until we gather every bit of information we could gather to piece it all together."
"We do not care for the affairs of this world."
"Even so, if we find out you have been intentionally withholding information that could have aided us, you may be prosecuted for obstruction of justice." Garret warned him. "Although if you shared now, I'm inclined to overlook it, this time."
The man looked over at his wife, who remained inert, like a machine awaiting command, before glaring back at Garret, back and forth back and forth, biting his lip in indecision.
"We do not fear the laws of man, for we are backed by a higher authority. But… for peace we shall cooperate. Just once." He let out a huff of disgruntlement as he stood aside, motioning for them to come through the door. His wife pivoted on foot at followed suit, shoes clacking on the wooden floor.
Garret's trepidation continued to gain traction as they came deeper and deeper into the house. As they passed room after room he noticed all the walls, all of them, were stark white, and despite the size of the house it was alarmingly lacking in furniture. But that was nothing strange compared to the many, many decorations that coated the walls. Crucifixes, pendants and statues of angels, and a disproportionate amount of paintings depicting Jesus and other biblical figures and events. There was nothing else; no kitschy bits and bobs, no family photos, no idle papers or pieces of technology. It felt like a quarantine, but at the same time all the iconography gave it a disturbing spin.
And then they came into the living room.
"Oh, Jesus." Garret muttered under his breath, prompting a swift and merciless kick in the shin from Amelia.
"Yes, our Lord and saviour." Mr Collingwood calmly replied, taking a seat in an a brown armchair, his wife resting beside him.
What had caught Garret's attention had been what one could assume was the centrepiece. In the wall where a fireplace had presumably once been an alcove had been forcibly fashioned by smoothing out the bricks, and in it's centre sat a life-sized marble statue of Jesus, hands outstretched in mercy. All around it, many candles had been melted into the bricks to form an unmoving mass of wax. He wasn't of faith, but to Garret Jesus has always been a comforting sight to see, so to see him standing amongst all this, it was unsettling to say the least.
The pair of investigators followed Mr Collingwood's gestures and sat across from them on the wooden floor, their backs to the creepy alcove. Apparently they didn't have guests often enough to consider having extra chairs around.
"So, what do you want from us?" Mr Collingwood spoke abruptly, with a certain edge that implied he wanted this interview over before it had even begun.
"Sir, the inves-"
"KNOW YOUR PLACE, WOMAN!" In the instant Amelia went to explain, Mr Collingwood suddenly roared with anger at her, leaning forward in the chair and clutching the armrests until the creaked under his grip. She jumped with alarm and Garret's hand shot to his holster, but the aggravated man made no more movement.
"I'm...sorry?" Amelia asked, a mixture of bewilderment and nervousness on her face.
"A woman should only speak when her man gives her permission to. Know your place. I won't have insubordination in my home." He scowled at her, nodding in Garrets direction to imply he was 'her man'.
Amelia and Garret ogled at each other with astonished expressions, neither of them able to comprehend what they had just witnessed with their own eyes and ears. Garret's eyes darkened as he stood up to teach the bastard a lesson, but Amelia hastily flagged him down with a wave of her arm, shaking her head. Her expression was the same as his, enraged and ready to throw down, but the way she held her eyes at him implied that it wasn't worth it.
Garret bit his lip until the skin threatened to break, before indulging Mr Collingwood's wishes, but not without glaring daggers at the sexist man, who leant back, satisfied.
"Alright, fine. I'll take over." He said. "We've reopened the investigation into your son's disappearance. We suspect the same ones responsible for abducting your son have started up again."
Upon hearing the word 'son' Mrs Collingwood's hands clenched, a small gesture that was noticeable purely because she hadn't shown any expression thus far. Mr Collingwood however, seemed unimpressed.
"Is that so? I thought you put the man responsible behind bars? Or, as I suspect, has the Law of Man failed like so many times before?"
"Considering many people have continued to disappear, a fair amount at the location your child, among three others went missing, it's likely that the suspect had accomplices or was part of a larger group. But that's beside the point. We need more information about Sasha and his life to dig deeper." Garret calmly ignored the verbal jab made at him and countered by explaining the situation. But considering how difficult this pair were making it, or rather just the man, he wasn't sure if his patience could persevere until the end.
"Hrrmph. I don't see how it helps, but since you insist on forcing us through this, we'll cooperate. Until you push us too far." He warned them. And with that, his eyes drifted to the left, and as Garret followed them, he saw what he was looking at - a rack on the wall with a rifle on it. He had held enough guns on the firing range to recognize it as a old Winchester 1894, with all six bullets loaded into the chamber. It was definitely not the sort of gun you'd expect to see in a place like this, especially not on the wall, and especially not fully loaded and within arms reach. What were these people thinking?
Garret pretended he didn't see, for now. If they so much as blinked at that wall, Garret's quicker draw would bedazzle them with bullets before they could reach it.
"Ahem. We would like to know a bit more about your son. We noted that his official file was surprisingly lacking, and we need that information to continue the investigation. Mrs Collingwood, if you would?"
Mrs Collingwood looked up at him in shock, hands clutching each other nervously in her lap as she glanced over to her husband. Seeing his lack of protest, she quietly began to talk, her hushed voice forcing the pair of investigators to strain their ears to hear her timid voice.
"My wee Sasha… He was a pure and innocent soul. We raised him to protect him from the evils of this world, the many, many demons of this mortal coil, but…"
"But Dorothy gave into temptation from the Devil." Mr Collingwood spoke tersely over her, his harsh, gravelly voice like a whip on her back, she fell silent in submission.
"A whole life of innocence and servitude to the lord, spoiled by a single act of sin. All those years of keeping him in here, away from the vices of man, only for it to be unwound by one instance of satanic influence." As he continued to berate her she let out a small sob, leaving both interviewers perplexed.
"...kept him here?" Garret asked. He suspected what they meant and he didn't want to believe it, but the grim circus act this family had shown him so far left no room to doubt.
The couple, that sullen man and his wife whose eyes were beginning to tear up, exchanged apprehensive stares before the man stood up and nodded in the direction of the stairs. "Follow me."
Wordlessly Garret got up and followed suit, but as he passed and he had made sure Mr Collingwood wasn't looking, Garret quickly ducked down and Amelia stifled a yelp as she felt something press against her bum! He gave her a complex but firm nod, before following the man away.
As she watched his lanky form dip around the hallway, shoes clomping up the stairs, she rubbed her ass in concealed astonishment. She would have never suspected that studious man to be the sort to grab a ladies' rear, especially in a scenario like this!
But as her hand ran along her waistline, she felt something hard press back, the unfamiliar metal form sending shivers down her spine. It was his gun. In that brief moment, he had stealthily slipped his gun into the waistline of her pants, and now she understood the nod he had given her. 'If something goes wrong, you need this more than I'. He had meant.
She felt her cheeks to begin to burn as realisation took hold, her hand quickly pulling her shirt over the gun to hide it. That idiot, what was he thinking? He was in more danger in unknown territory with that man than she down here, with this unmoving doll of a woman whom she seriously doubted could even fight.
She looked up at the woman sitting across from her. The way she lay slightly slumped against the chair, hands folded in her lap, head bowed, it really was like she was a puppet, and her puppeteer had severed the strings and left her where she lay.
The reporter shifted around on her rear anxiously, struggling to deal with the awkward and stifling silence now that the two men were gone. She opened her mouth several times to say something, to cut through the quiet and obtain information from this doll while that bombastic and overpowering man wasn't around to silence her, but no words came to her mouth. Even now Mrs Collingwood didn't move, eyes transfixed to the floor.
"What do you do for a job, Dorothy, was it?" Letting out a shaky sigh, Amelia decided to push ahead and attempt a conversation. Dorothy's head twitching ever so slightly upon hearing her name was the only indication that she had been heard. Sighing, Amelia reformed her tactics into something more pushy.
"We need information like this for the investigation, please." She insisted, her tone still soft but carrying a threat.
"...A woman's place is at home." Came a faint and agitated response from under the wide brim of the hat.
"Well, okay then. What does your husband do for a job?"
"...He is a pastor." She quietly replied. Each of her responses seemed strained and unnatural, the way she held her breath and forced words out; it was like basic conversation was an alien concept to her.
"I didn't know pastor's had an income." Amelia frowned.
"They do not. ...We suffice off the donations of fellow warriors of Christ."
She had no clue how to reply to that. A family living off donations. It explained the desolate state of the house, at least. But these people, were they really that committed to what they believed in that they would go this far? She felt beads of sweat form on her brow as he hand clutched something hard resting against her collarbone.
"I see… Um, what were you saying about your son Sasha earlier?"
Like clockwork, the thin women seized up at the sound of her son's name, bony arms quivering. She appeared to sag into her chair, sharp unsteady breaths wracking her lungs.
"M-My wee baby, my Sasha… He was such a soft and sweet boy, so pious in his beliefs, so loyal to his family. That's what we taught him, that no matter what, God and family always come first, over everything, and he held that belief in his innocent, sweet heart...I tried so hard to keep him safe from this world… But the Devil disguised itself in his sweet smile and lured me with temptation of his happiness, so I let him out, just one day… just for one day…"
"One day? You mean the incident at Fazbear's Pizzeria, correct?" As the name of that place dropped from her lips, the woman jolted with such force Amelia panicked, thinking she had been stabbed.
"I shouldn't have taken him there… So many years we kept him at home, away from every evil this world has to offer… But when he asked to go, he seemed so happy, so hopeful, and he promised to even-" Dorothy stopped halfway through her sentence, quivering and trembling, the brim of her hat undulating in rhythm with the way she rocked back and forth in mounting sadness.
"You kept him here? What about school? What about friends?"
Dorothy fervently shook her head. "School is the learning grounds of the Devil, and other children would lead him astray. We kept him here, always, since he was born. To take him out there, would be to abandon his soul!"
Rage was starting to build up in Amelia's chest, her heartbeat pounding like a drum of war. But as increasingly difficult as it was, she remained calm although she doubted she could last much longer if the conversation continued to veer in the dark direction it was going.
"And what happened on the day you took him there? It was you that took him, wasn't it?" Amelia growled, clutching her chest.
"I… I took him into that horrid place and bought him a birthday cake, even though sugar is the Devil… A certain distasteful woman was saying such unscrupulous things that I couldn't help but confront her, and when I turned around…" She paused to hold one hand to her mouth, wiping away tears. "He was gone."
"Kids tend to do that. It's in their nature to go explore. Especially when they've had very little opportunity to do so." Amelia scowled as she added that little jab at the end.
"But I told him! I've always told him to stay put, and yet he disobeyed!" Dorothy was becoming increasingly agitated, her previously faint voice raising in speed and volume as she pushed back against Amelia, the former lifeless doll now a distressed woman.
"Can you blame him?" Amelia snapped back. "If you really did lock him away all his life, of course he's going to wander! How can you expect a child not to embrace freedom when you imprisoned him?!"
"It was for his own good!" Dorothy screamed, looking up at Amelia for the first time with wide, distressed eyes as her hands balled into fists, shaking on the armrests. "His own good! his own good! I won't let the sinful nature of this world tarnish his white soul!"
"Everyone sins eventually, bitch." Amelia finally dropped any pretense of nicety as her anger boiled over. She got to her feet, returned the stare that was burning into her. "But the longer you try and keep someone from sin, the more severely it affects them when they do encounter it!"
Arm shaking, Amelia pointed an accusatory finger at the woman across from her. "Your son is dead not because of sin or devils or temptation, but because YOU raised him to be naive and brittle, no understanding of how this world works. IT'S YOUR FAULT!"
Suddenly an ear-splitting screech, the roar of a wounded animal, filled the room and echoed violently all about, forcing the reporter to cover her ears. Above, she heard a loud thump, like the sound of a struggle.
Upstairs, Garret glued his eyes to Mr Collingwood's back as they moved down the hall. He was confident in his ability to fight hand to hand, and thus why he left his gun with Amelia, but that didn't mean he considered himself invincible. He was in an unknown place with a temperamental individual who kept loaded guns lying about; anything could happen here.
He froze up as the man before him stopped at the end of the hallway and faltered with a door on their right. But it wasn't the sudden stop that unnerved him, but rather the grim objects attached to the door.
Locks. Three of them. All rustic, ancient and heavy, their clunky forms looked alien on the modern door. These belonged in a prison door, not here, not in a suburban house to a little's boy's bedroom. While on the outside he appeared placid, on the inside he could hear the blood beginning to boil inside his ears. 'Those shouldn't be here!' again and again that thought recoiled in his mind as the door swung open. If that was what the outside looked like, what did this child's bedroom look like on the inside?
Against his expectations, the room was lacking in torture devices, or anything in particular really, but his heart still sank as he looked about the room. It was barren with pristine white walls, and the single small window let in the slightest traces of light thanks to the metal bars blocking it from the outside. Other than that, there was a small single bed, accompanied by a bedside table which upon it rested a lamp, and a copy of the bible.
"This is his bedroom?" Garret asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, this is where we kept him."
"Where are the toys, the books?"
"Children do not need toys when they have God, and the only book one should read is the bible." Gabriel snapped back.
Garret stepped in and looked all about the room, when a glimmer of metal by the bed caught his eye. Strutting over, he pulled the sheets back to see a set of handcuffs, one cuff attached to the bed.
"This is child abuse." Garret stood up slowly. He didn't need to turn around to know Gabriel Collingwood was scowling at him.
"Spare the rod, spoil the child! Children need discipline to grow up healthy!" He yelled, the tiny room quivering with the noise.
"And there's a difference between punishment and abuse!" Garret angrily replied, his tone low but aggressive. "I can't believe a child lived like this, I can't believe it went unnoticed for 9 years. How could the Chief let this happen?" Garret swiveled around and took a step towards the other man, who stood in the doorway with his arms folded.
"Gabriel Collingwood, I hope you know you'll be put under arrest on suspect of child abuse and neglect after this."
At his declaration, the man merely scoffed, his gaze darkening into a stare Garret knew was murderous intent. "Do you really think I fear you? I have the power of The Creator at my disposal, I-"
Gabriel stopped as a horrific shriek exploded from beneath their feet, an unearthly sound like someone was being skinned alive. The two men sized each other up with death stares, before Gabriel bolted down the hallway, Garret hot on his heels.
The two men burst into the living room at witnesses the same scene, but each had their own interpretation on it. Amelia stood in the middle of the room, her face red but seemingly alarmed, as before her Dorothy clutched her face until her nails sank into her skin, shrieking and wailing until the pictures on the walls rattled.
"Dorothy, what is the matter, what did she do?!" Gabriel yelled at her in alarm, but she didn't acknowledge her husband. Her hair whipping as she stood up, her tall form suddenly towering over all of them, she maintained her attention on Amelia.
"MY SON ISN'T DEAD, HE ISN'T! I KNOW HE STILL LIVES!" She screamed, her eyes dilated maddeningly. "The devil has claimed him, hiding behind his golden mask, but he still lives! My Sasha lives!"
Gabriel went to grab her arm but she slapped him away, eliciting a shocked and maddened reaction from her husband.
"How dare you Dorothy!" He roared, but she bid him no attention. No, nothing and no one else was of importance to her other than the women standing there.
"It wasn't my fault! I'm innocent! I raised him to love God and his family! I'll find him again and take him back, and undo the corruption this world has done to him! You'll see, he's my perfect flower!" She screamed profusely, throwing around random utterings about how perfect he was, about how she had done everything she could to save him.
"I'm a good mother! I'm a good Christian! God and family are the greatest blessings a mother could offer, and I gave him both! Someone like you has no right to judge me!" She scowled, her tear-streaked face wracked with emotion.
All three other people in the room stood back, unsure of how to deal with this woman who in moments had gone from emotionless to impassioned. Gabriel Collingwood of all of them, was the most unsure. He had known Dorothy for so many years, far before Sasha had been born, and in all that time, he had never seen her act this way. It unnerved him to the core.
"You're right about one thing, but wrong another the other." Amelia cried back. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out the small object she had been clutching to her chest this whole time. It was a small wooden crucifix, the nicks and scratches on it's oaken form testament to the love put into it.
"You're right, Dorothy Collingwood. God and family are the two most wonderful blessing a child could be graced with. But." That last word cut through the noise, a confused, teary-eyed Dorothy starting from the crucifix, to her, and back again.
"God is supposed to bring hope. Family is supposed to bring happiness. They're both supposed to bring love! But that's not what you taught Sasha. I wasn't here to see it with my own eyes, but the way you speak, I can tell. You took both of those great gifts, and turned them into weapons to hurt him. You didn't bring him love or hope, you hurt him! You brought him pain and loneliness!" As she threw declaration after cruel declaration at the woman, hot tears began to fall from Amelia's own eyes, splashing onto the carpet below.
Amelia strode forward and gripped the woman by the collar of her dress until their weeping eyes were barely an inch apart.
"You look me in the eye and tell me Sasha had a happy life."
Everyone expected her to lash out, to scream and panic and tear out the eyes of Amelia, but to everyone's shock, she took a step back and quietly sat down. She had stopped screaming, even shaking in fact, but tears continued to stream down her face uninhibited as her eyes closed.
"...You're right." She said quietly. "It's my fault… my fault…. My fault…"
"Dorothy, we've done nothin-"
"We have, Gabriel! Can't you see that! I failed our son! Oh lord, please forgive me!" She clasped her hands together as she lowered her head in prayer, eyes scrunched up in pain. "Oh gracious lord forgive me, please forgive me! I was so obsessed with pleasing you, my son suffered as a result… I only wanted him to be a good boy, to be kind and loving, I didn't mean to hurt him... Oh, Sasha! Please forgive your mama! I love you!" She began to cry aloud, eyes open but unseeing, searching for her son that was not there."
"Sasha, please come back to mama! You can go outside, you can watch the TV and play with toys, please, please, come back to your mama! Let's live nicely together, Sasha? Sasha!" As she cried aloud to her dead son, Gabriel went to restrain his sobbing wife, only to be coldly pushed away. And as Amelia looked onward crying to herself, she felt a hand fall down on her shoulder.
"We should go now before things get worse." Garret quietly whispered to her, tugging her along. The sobbing wife and her distressed and stunned husband failed to notice as the couple snuck away, but as she passed through into the hallway, Amelia stopped and turned around.
"Dorothy Collingwood." She called out, the woman snapping to look at her with chagrin.
"I want to hate you. I really do. I want to hate you so, so much for what you did to that child, for the mockery you've made of our religion. But…" Amelia ran her crucifix through her fingers. "God teaches me to forgive. So I forgive you. And in Heaven, I hope Sasha forgives you too." Amelia forced a final smile at the woman before turning away, both her and Garret fleeing out the door and to the motorbike while Gabriel Collingwood chased after them like a savage dog, stopping at the fence and snarling threats at them. Seeing as they were off his property, he ran back inside to deal with his wife.
"That interview did not last long." Garret sighed, wiping the sweat off his brow. "What a disaster that was."
He turned to Amelia for a reply, but she had her back to him, her head sunken. "Amelia?" He came around to face her, only to see she had covered her face with both hands, quietly crying to herself.
Her sobbing ceased as she felt a warmth envelop her, looking up she could only see the darkness of Garret's coat as he hugged her. It was awkward and cumbersome, with the way he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, wanting to comfort her, but also hesitant in case she didn't like it, but it was nice. Gripping his waist, she held him there for just a few spare moments, before pulling back.
"Thanks, I needed that." She said, wiping a tear away.
"Are you okay?" He asked, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, but on the inside he was smiling happily.
"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just… I meant what I said. God is supposed to bring about happiness and love, to think they used him as a tool to hurt and isolate that child..." Amelia shuddered. "I can't even begin to imagine how isolated and unloved Sasha must have felt. And to think, on the one day he was free, he died… Oh that poor boy."
"The most noble of intentions are often used for the most nefarious purposes." Garret cooly replied, understanding what she meant. Too many times had he seen his fellow policemen use the law to harm rather than save.
She glanced down at her precious crucifix and gave it a squeeze, before putting it back against her chest. "I'm a Christian too, and so often people look down on me for it, treat me with scorn, because I get lumped in with misguided extremists like them." She waved in the direction of the Collingwood residence, which looked even more sinister know that they knew what was on the inside. "It doesn't matter how much love I share through Christ; small numbers of people like them paint a bad picture and create so much suffering for the rest of us, even though we didn't do any wrong!"
To her surprise, Garret let out a chuckle. It was wry and bitter and with the way he shook his head, she understood that he shared her pain. "Most policemen work hard to protect the lives of civilians, and we never get thanks. But when one crappy cop decides to shoot someone who didn't deserve it? Heh, you've seen the riots."
"Yeah, Dorothy was half-right when she said it's a sinful world. It's definitely a shit world." Amelia gave him a genuinely warm smile as her feelings of sadness and pin ebbed away. "Well, let's end for the day. We were supposed to interview the Palatine family today too, but after that madness I can't be bothered."
"I can agree with you there." He snorted. "Alright, I'll direct you to my home." And with that, he was the first to get on the bike, any signs of hesitation gone.
"Oh, there's no need for that! Your brother gave me your address."
"What?!"
To his relief, Amelia gave a familiar cackle and sneered at him. "He told me a lot about you!" She said, leaping onto the bike and revving it to life. "He said you like chocolate lattes, have a fear of heights, and… oh! You're a kissless virgin~" Her witch laugh echoed down the normally tranquil street as the bike took off. Before, Garret would have winced with annoyance, but after seeing how deeply that encounter with the Collingwoods had cut
"You know, I've known you for less than a day, and yet I feel like I know you so much more than that." Garret mused aloud.
"Crazy situations tend to make people bond quickly." Amelia replied, turning over to raise an eyebrow at him. "But what do you mean by that?"
Garret shook his head. "It's nothing, it's nothing…"
