Romeo glanced around at those who were moving around Winchester like sheep, heads down and ignoring the bigger picture of reality. They didn't understand that among them sat one who could have killed another human being, one whose brother was murdered by the Fifth Kira. They didn't know that the Fifth Kira, the person anyone could have dismissed in a café or on a train was still alive, well and free.

He put down his cup of coffee and buried his head in one hand. After about fifteen minutes trying to plan out his route to Gatwick Airport, something slightly odd caught his eye.

In the ancient city of Winchester, which had once been England's capital city during Arthurian times, the authenticity and rusticity of the town was paramount. So how was it that driving down one of Britain's oldest streets was a gleaming black model of the latest Range Rover, windows tinted black? Was it also a coincidence that it was heading in the same direction that he, Romeo, had just come?

"Fuck," he muttered, slamming a five-pound note on the table and tucking the folded-up railway map into his jacket pocket. As he left, he gained very few curious looks, despite the urgency with which he moved.

Just sheep, heads down, never noticing.

XXX

Callie had promised herself she would never encroach on another's privacy any more than she already did unintentionally, yet this particular person intrigued her more than any normal person did. Without a word, she pulled the ladder down to the attic and climbed up it, tugging the trapdoor up behind her so no one else could get inside without her noticing.

The attic hadn't been used for years, considering whose room it used to be. The walls were bleak grey, some of the wallpaper faded yet still pasted there. She stood carefully and pressed a palm to the walls. The floorboards were a little more flaky than they had previously been, although they were still strong enough to walk on.

Seeing her hand against the wall, she realized how the open window cast a pale light over everything. It was as if a veil had been pulled over the furniture once possessed by the recently deceased, when the next of kin decided what to do with the remaining items. Her own skin, fair enough as it was, appeared ghostly white. Her hair seemed white-gold, the room around her almost surreal. She felt like she was living in another's memory.

The person whose room it had been before was dead here, yet very much alive beyond those walls. Callie took a few steps further into the room, seeing white sheets draped over the bed, closet, chest of drawers, bookcase and 'treasure' box. She grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled sharply, removing it. At the scene before her, she could not help but laugh a little. The imprint of the bed's sleeper was pressed into the mattress.

She noticed an envelope sticking out from under the pillow and took it, running her thumb under the seal. It gave her a paper cut, but it didn't stop her. She sucked on the cut as she studied the picture. She found herself having to sit down.

On a piece of crinkled paper, a young Wammy's child had drawn three stick people, one walking away, one standing in the middle of the page with a sad face and two red dots of eyes and one pointing at the red-eyed stick boy with an angry expression. The red-eyed boy had been given devil horns and a spiky red tail. They had been labeled too; the angry boy had, 'me' written beneath him, and the one walking away had, 'L'. One final label beneath the red-eyed boy read, 'u'. Below all of this, in rough black CD marker was scrawled, 'to remind u, u freak'.

The drawing could only have been done by very young children, and it began to click in her mind. This had been drawn for Beyond by A, Alternative. It could only be A, since there were only two others besides the child that was Beyond in the picture, and at a time where there were no others besides L, A and B in the orphanage, it made sense.

Seeing how cruel children could be, Callie fought back tears. If this was how he had been ostracized as only a little boy, it was no wonder that Beyond had decided to go against the establishment, and the drawing may even have been responsible for fueling some of Beyond's hatred for L. If L was walking away, if only in the drawing of a small, contemptuous child, A was giving Beyond the impression that he did not care. Maybe L had cared before, then given up when the current serial killer came to be exactly that.

She examined the paper one more time, and then proceeded to rip the offending thing into shreds. The remainders of it fluttered to the ground like confetti. Despite the fact she knew it changed nothing, she felt like she was tearing apart all of Beyond's unhappiness and insecurities. For some unknown reason, she felt better than she had in a long time.

"Still human," she sighed, wiping away one solitary tear, "even with the eyes."

She began to make her way downstairs when she heard a buzzing. She recognized the sound; it was usually emitted from Roger's office, and it meant someone was entering through the gates with a temporary entry ID card. She glanced above the desk towards the CCTV cameras and hurried along to the main hall of the oldest building at Wammy's.

First entered a dark-haired woman with distinctly European-looking features. She strutted her way to the stairs and gave Callie a glance that evidently translated as disgust.

"Who are you?" Callie asked.

"It doesn't matter, blondie. Point me to L and C."

"I'm sorry," Callie responded coldly, her voice becoming firm and official-sounding. "I don't think I can give you that information. That just doesn't sit well with me, especially considering one of our students was attacked recently."

"Which one?" the woman sneered.

"I am not going to tell you," the blonde answered. "Back off."

Another man, taller than the dark-haired woman, and with long silvery-blonde hair himself, joined the two. Callie regarded both of them with caution.

"Now, now, Irina," the man scolded. "Calm down. I do apologize, Miss, she has quite a hot temper when she is in a hurry. My name is Flint; this is Irina. Outside are our associates: Ludo, Bess and Jenna-"

"Jenna?" Callie repeated, startled. "Jenna's here?"

"She is," Flint agreed. "She said someone would recognize her name." He looked around, a smile beginning to form on his face. "How odd. It's just the way I remember it."

"Second generation?" Callie suggested.

"First," Flint and Irina said together. Then Flint spoke on his own. "You?"

"Third," she admitted. "Early third, late second."

"And this lot?" Irina piped up.

"I think they're fifth," Callie told her. "So why do you want L and C? I heard Jenna was working on the California case, but-"

"We found something, and we didn't want to explain it over the phone or by email," Flint confessed. "We can wait for them if they are a bit preoccupied."

There was a gunshot, and the three of them froze.

XXX

Sky heard the gunshot from where he was sitting in the library. Suddenly, he found himself leaping to his feet and running full pelt to where he had heard the shot coming from. He hesitated on the landing, knowing it was from C's room, where he had seen L heading before, and made a snap decision. He slid down the stairs quickly, dodging past Flint, Irina and Callie. His brain barely had time to register that it was out of the ordinary for the first generation Wammy's kids to be there. All he was focused on was reaching the infirmary.

He barged past Nurse Fearne, ignoring her complaints completely. K was unconscious, probably a little high on morphine. Still, she had the right to know if her uncle was in potential danger, and she had the right to know if she could help. He shook her arm, squeezing her wrist. "Wake up!" he shouted. "K, wake up! Come on!"

"Mr. Saxon, get out of my infirmary right now!" Nurse Fearne commanded.

"K, L's in trouble! Wake up, you stupid cow!"

"Son of a bitch," she murmured, still in a drug-induced haze. Her eyes lifted open slowly and drank in the scene before her. She barely paid attention to the frantic and furious nurse, instead processing Sky's words. This snapped her into a slightly more coherent state.

With Sky's assistance, she swung her legs out of bed, got to her feet and directed herself towards the scene of the gunshot. The more she began to walk around, the better her motor controls became, and the more vivid her grasp of reality became. By the time they had reached the landing, she was relying more on her own strength than on Sky's.

Having finally gotten to C's room, the two saw a great number in the space. L and C sat together, as did Nancy and Damnation, and Rebel and Slo. M was sitting on C's bed, a smirk on her face. Seeing Sky and K, she gestured for the two to take a seat also. Sky noted that behind him, on a banister, there was a bullet hole, explaining the gunshot. Slo jumped up to help K sit down beside him.

"Aw, isn't that nice?" M simpered falsely. "This means the whole team's together to hear all the secrets that have been kept. Let's call this the Circle of Honesty, shall we? C, why don't you start? It's pretty obvious that you've tied the knot in my absence, and you didn't tell me. Boo. I don't like lying in my Circle of Honesty."

The expression was written all over C's face: oh shit.

Realization hit Slo like a speeding truck. There were secrets C have confided in him, and in an interrogation, he was the one who was more likely to surrender. Before he had time to control his face, his eyes widened. They flickered to C and back to M, unaware M had been watching him.

"Got something to say, Slo?" she asked. "Nothing?"

"No, nothing," he said quickly.

"For number two, you are a very bad liar," M shrugged. "Ah, well. Maybe L can tell us."

"I don't know what you're talking about," L replied.

"You know, I think you really don't have anything more to say," M said, surprised. "At least that means I don't have to hear your voice anymore." She leant forward, looking closer at C's eyes. They were only moist enough to be misty, but it was enough for M. "You always were one for secrets, C. It's a wonder anyone can trust you. You keep them so internalized, and then it's too late. It just causes trouble."

C evaded M's eyes, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. She felt everyone's gazes upon her, now self-conscious. She allowed herself one peek at L's face. He was frowning slightly, as if puzzled and slightly hurt. Her own face was drained of color. She knew that she should have told him earlier, should have told him the truth as soon as she had found out…

None of them had really paid Beyond any attention, rootling through C's coat pockets as he was. He was quiet, and the only things C could recall putting in the pockets were the keys to her Yamaha, and a coupon to a restaurant from Las Vegas. She had forgotten something vital. Now, as Beyond took out these photographs and deduced what they were, he felt his stomach drop into the soles of his feet.

He took a few steps towards L and tapped him on the shoulder. M scowled, trying to see what was going on. L snatched the images from him and froze. C recognized them immediately and stood.

"I think this is the problem," Beyond murmured.

"It's a – a-"

"A sonogram," C mumbled.

M's jaw dropped almost to the floor. "Okay, rewind. A sonogram? As in, something you get done when you're pregnant?"

"A sonogram, as in an image you have checked when you're pregnant and expecting twins," C corrected her, voice hushed.

There was no denying that at this exact moment in time, one of the most intelligent men in the world, a man who had dealt with murderers, rapists, paedophiles, conmen and gangsters, was terrified into silence. The great detective L looked like he was about to pass out.

Oh, man, the secret's out. Or at least one of them.

Preview

"This right here is what we've got," Jenna said.

Irina said nothing. Her eyes flickered to the clock.

What's going to happen next? You have three guesses!

C.