A/N: This is a long chapter, but there was a lot I wanted to write! I hope you don't die of boredom, ha-ha!

December 20th

"Antonio, dinner is ready!"

"Coming!" Antonio called, shoving his "memory box" back under his bed and heading downstairs. Even though he thought it was kind of stupid, Antonio kept a shoebox under his bed at all times. He'd had it since fourth grade, and it was crammed with letters, drawings—anything Antonio wanted to keep safe.

Gilbert had written him a letter before ending things, and the words kept running through Antonio's head as he picked at his mother's casserole. When everyone had first shown up at the Beilschmidt's on that terrible December 1st, Antonio believed that he was just another member of the not-yet-formed Confidants' Club, too. Until he realized he didn't have any life-shattering secret that would ruin his reputation if it came out. That Friday, Antonio had been reorganizing his bookshelf (he was a bit OCD about it—he did it at least once every two weeks, arranging the books in alphabetical order) when he found a letter pressed between Catcher in the Rye and Catching Fire.

It was a letter from Gilbert, saying that Antonio did not have a definite secret, and he had merely been placed in the group to oversee everyone. And, if things got really bad, to comfort the others. Gilbert had asked Antonio to remember everything, so that maybe other people could learn from this later.

Though Antonio didn't want to admit it, it had been a brilliant move by Gilbert. The 'Prussian' had been over at Antonio's house a few days before killing himself, so that would have been prime time to place the letter in the bookshelf. And only Gilbert and Francis knew how obsessed Antonio was with keeping his bookshelf straight.

After dinner, Antonio helped his mother wash the dishes, then went upstairs. Normally, Antonio would start his weekend homework, but it was Christmas Break. He didn't know what to do, and was contemplating going for a walk when his phone rang.

"Antonio, it's Francis!"

"Francis! Did you get Dr. Alfher's email?" Antonio had received it earlier that day.

"Yes. It's wonderful news, my friend! But I called for a different reason. Are you busy this evening?"

"The opposite."

"Well, you should come with me to Vladimir Lupei's."

"Um, the Romanian dude's place? Why?"

Francis chuckled. "Apparently, the Drama Club was having a little meeting at their president's house. It's somehow transformed into a full-scale Christmas party open to everyone. What do you say, Toni? Shall we go?"

"Hmm... Well, as long as you promise not to drink too much."

Francis laughed again. "I learned that lesson the hard way, mon ami. I don't want a repeat of Vladimir's last party, of course. Now, I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes. Dress nicely—I'm sure Bella will be there."

Antonio ignored that last comment—just because he'd accidentally made a comment about having a slight crush on Bella, Francis had been trying to set the two up for the past five months—and breathed deeply. "Mama, I'm going to hang out with Francis."

While December had not been the best month ever, Antonio felt a little better than he'd been feeling lately. He grabbed his jacket and went downstairs to wait for Francis.

"Lupei sure throws a lot of parties, huh?" Alfred asked.

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, but think of it this way—his parents are rich and never home, he lives in this giant mansion, and he's got a constant supply of alcohol. What else is he supposed to do? Ah, bloody hell. Elizaveta's here. Should I say hi?"

Alfred slapped his friend on the back, laughing. "Go for it, Romeo. I'm gonna go chat with Matt. I can't believe he even showed up."

Arthur ignored Alfred's Romeo comment—he was just glad his friend was feeling better—and walked over to Elizaveta, who was laughing over something with Kiku Honda. Most of the eleventh grade had shown up, despite the fact that it was a very last-minute party. Well, most of the people who were still in town for the holidays, that is.

"Hi," Arthur said, then mentally kicked himself. How eloquent.

"Hello, Arthur." Kiku smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Kiku. And you?"

"Good. I'll let you and Elizaveta talk, okay?" the Japanese student grabbed his drink and hurried away.

Elizaveta laughed, watching as Kiku was intercepted by Alfred, who was trying to get Kiku to do karaoke with him. "Hey, Arthur. How's it going?"

"I'm very good, I—"

"Ohonhonhon! Hello, Arthur. Hello, Elizaveta." Francis was approaching, dragging Antonio behind him. Arthur sighed inwardly. "Hello, Francis."

Elizaveta raised an eyebrow at Francis' glass. "You aren't going to get drunk again, are you?"

"Of course not." Francis looked slightly offended. "Antonio will take care of me."

Antonio snatched his wrist away. "No, I won't. I'm going to go talk to Lovino and Bella." Though the Spaniard may have seemed rude, it was all good-natured sarcasm, and everyone knew it. Elizaveta and Arthur laughed as Francis wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. Arthur jumped when someone placed a hand on his shoulder.

He turned and was staring directly into Lukas Bondevik's distant eyes.

"Do you all mind if I borrow Arthur for a moment?"

Elizaveta smiled. "Not at all. I think I see Mei over there, anyway."

Francis nodded in agreement. "Yes. And is that Mathieu? Mathieu actually showed up?"

"Follow me," Lukas said quietly, gently elbowing people out of the way. Arthur had to struggle to hear the Norwegian over the music. "What is it?"

"I've been doing a lot more thinking," Lukas replied. He grabbed a shot glass off a table and threw it back, as if to prepare himself for whatever he was going to say. "Did you know," Lukas said, turning around, "that Gilbert and Ludwig are Dr. Alfher's nephews? 'Alfher' is the family name. Frau Beilschmidt is Dr. Alfher's sister, but Beilschmidt isn't her maiden name. Alfher is."

"Wait," Arthur mumbled. "Is that why he was so determined to make things 'right' with Gilbert's death? Why he got so involved?" Things began to piece together. "And that's why he had Ludwig present at the meeting. So that Ludwig could hear everything and maybe learn something. Oh my God."

"Guess who Dr. Alfher's best friend was," Lukas continued.

Arthur frowned. "Who?"

"Mr. Canella. As in, Louise's father."

Arthur shook his head. "There's no way they can all be connected like that."

"According to what I've gathered, the Beilschmidts moved here when we were all in second grade, or the equivalent of second grade in our own countries. Anyway, Dr. Alfher moved to this city back in his late twenties, and he was overjoyed when he found out his sister's family was moving to the United States from Germany—to his own town, even. And then the Canellas moved here when we were in sixth grade. That was the year you came here, I think? Well, the Canellas moved into the house next to Dr. Alfher's, so both families became close. Through Dr. Alfher, the Beilschmidts met the Canellas several times. Because of that connection, Gilbert and Louise were not only classmates, but also family friends. So it's like two of Dr. Alfher's favorite kids died before graduating high school. It's a stretch, but it may have been why he was being such a pain in the ass about the entire thing. Maybe taking control was his way of grieving."

Arthur stared at Lukas, awestruck.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

"Huh? No. No, it's just..." Arthur always thought he was intelligent, but he was nothing compared to Lukas. Lukas had it all figured out, didn't he? Arthur felt a strong sense of admiration and respect towards the frosty Scandinavian. "Wow."

"They liked each other," Lukas proceeded.

"Oh! I did know that. Well, I mean... Gilbert told me..." Arthur trailed off. How could he explain things without revealing too much?

"I already know about the Confidants' Club," Lukas said, a hint of a smile flickering across his face. "Antonio and Mathias told me. Honestly, you don't give me enough credit!"

Arthur sighed. It was obvious that Lukas knew everything about everyone. If he ever needed information, Lukas was going to be the person he went to. "How do you know so much about other people? Don't get me wrong—I think it's very admirable. I'm just wondering."

"Hmm." Lukas tapped his chin. "I know the same things everyone else does, I just draw connections between events. Anyway, there's one more thing I want to show you."

Arthur followed Lukas past a group of sophomore girls taking selfies until they came to a large, well-lit outdoor porch. A few people sat at a table while others stood around, drinking and chatting or cheering on the people at the table.

"What's going on?" Arthur asked Lukas.

Lukas grabbed a handful of pretzels out of a bowl sitting on a side table. "Gambling."

Arthur subconsciously scanned the table for Kiku or Tino. As if reading Arthur's mind, Lukas said, "There's no one we know out here right now, don't worry. But do you remember what Tino said? The day we got caught in the library? 'There were two other people duping Louise with us.' Remember?"

"Yes," Arthur said. "I'd forgotten, but yes. Did you figure out who the other two people are?"

Lukas gazed at the gamblers. "No, but I want to. Arthur?"

"What?"

Lukas turned to the Brit. "Well, will you help me?"