First Child of the Marigolds

To many people, Tina Branford was dead. The right thing to do at the moment was to give Stromsburg that same report. Stromsburg gave out a shuddering sigh. Her eyes watered almost instantly. She put her right hand over her mouth, almost dropping the bouquet of marigolds in the process. Mr. Omil bowed his head sadly and heaved a heavy sigh. His stare fell on the sidewalk

"Excuse me," Stromsburg said, her voice quaking. Her eyes moved rapidly towards the old house. She walked closer to it now, crossing the bare ground towards the center of the yard. I walked slowly out of the way and left her to complete a personal ritual. When Stromsburg reached the center, she knelt down and placed the bouquet on the only remaining rock tile. It was small and was the same color as the ground. I did not notice it myself when I first crossed the yard.

The world was indeed small. I knew then what Stromsburg was doing in the village. She connected two remote events together, but it had nothing to do with the rebel's ambush of the two colonels. Instead, she stood as the stepping stone to helping me learn more about Tina Branford. As a final act of the ritual, Stromsburg uttered a silent prayer to the heavens. Getting up to her feet, she wiped her tears with a white handkerchief she drew from her pocket. She walked towards me steadily. It didn't look like she was going to say something. She was expecting me to do the honors instead.

"You must've been very close to her," I said, breaking the silence.

"Not really," she replied. "I mourn for her now. But I grieve for the children. My children."

I nodded solemnly. "I think I understand."

"I pray for each child's future. I thought I wouldn't need to after the emperor made that donation. Suddenly, the children were left to fend for themselves. The teachers and the doctors… they never really cared," she said, her voice with rising fervor. "After the orphanage closed down, they moved on. Most of the matrons and the caretakers didn't care either," she said spitefully. "The sanctuary built on this ground was a mockery to the children's hopes. They thought they were safe. It was all for show."

"Most of the matrons didn't care?"

"No. They weren't volunteers. They were hired by who-knows-who."

"And you?"

"Nina had been wanting the job as caretaker since it reopened," Mr. Omil said behind me. "They turned her down each time giving her different excuses. They said they needed someone with more experience. They said they were overstaffed. They said they'd consider it. Nina even volunteered. She didn't care about the money. She just wanted to take care of the children."

"They turned you down on such a charitable motive?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yes," she said, swallowing a bitter memory. "I was an orphan myself. I wanted to return the favor given to me by my matrons so long ago--my own true, loving matrons. The matrons who were in charge of this orphanage shut the door in front of my face each time. Then one day the orphanage closed. The matrons and caretakers packed up their belongings and left. Just like that!"

"You mean they--"

"They left the children!"

The notion was shocking. I had to be sure. "W-what do you mean left?"

"Very early in the morning, they vacated the house and boarded the train all at the same time. The children woke up, and the caretakers were already gone. No food waited for them on their plates. The hearth wasn't lit to warm them up. The classrooms were empty. The sick woke up without their daily medicines. They were abandoned! Cruelest act I've ever seen perpetuated on the innocent children. As if being orphans weren't bad enough, they had to be abandoned again, too."

"But what happened?"

"Nobody knows!" Mr. Omil said. He, too, sounded upset. "I was cleaning the roof of the old station over there,"--he motioned to the building next door--"and I heard a lot of crying from the inside. More crying than usual. Some were screaming. I got off the roof and decided to pay the orphanage a visit and try to see what was going on. I opened the door and I saw the younger children crying. The older ones tried hard to keep them quiet. I couldn't find the caretakers anywhere. They were hungry, they were!"

"Mr. Omil sent a message for me. I ran over as soon as I had heard the news. The place was a complete mess. The local peacekeepers under Mr. Omil's command helped pacify the children. I ran straight to the kitchen. I found Tina there, tired and crying. She was already fifteen then, the oldest of them all. She searched the cupboard for food to feed the children. She held a wailing baby on her arm as she did so. The toddlers tailed her, begging her for food.

"I took over. Clearly, nobody wanted to be with the children any longer. And nobody was there to stop me from helping them finally. Good riddance to those people, I say. Some display of charity!" Stromsburg scoffed. Her hands were trembling with anger. Her memory almost took over. There was so much anger within her. Tears fell from her eyes again, and I doubted that she even noticed. And then, she remembered the present. "Where are my manners again?" she said apologetically. "You came here to tell me about Tina."

"And to learn from you about her," I added.

"I will tell you what I can," she promised, nodding slowly. "I will tell you all that she allowed me to know about her."

"Best you do that in the station, ladies. The missus will be visiting me from the bakery soon. I'd be more than happy to share."

"What a wonderful idea, Mr. Omil!" Stromsburg agreed. "I think I will have supper with you and your wife today. It's been a while."

"So very kind of you, sir. But…" My eyes went to the orphanage. "I was wondering if I could have a look inside the place, too."

"There really is nothing to see," Stromsburg said quickly. "Just the dusty floors. When it finally closed, we even sold the furniture. Time and again, some rambunctious kids would venture inside and vandalize the interior."

"Just a quick look," I insisted. "I can do it alone. You can go ahead and enjoy your meal without me. It won't take me long." I started walking towards the door again.

"But the door is locked!" Mr. Omil said as if in protest.

"I'll find a way inside, thank you!" I yelled back. I got up the steps again and tried the door knob. It really was locked. However, I noticed something about the door knob. It wasn't at all dusty or rusty. It seemed to be still in use. People did still come in to the place. From behind me, I heard Mr. Omil and Stromsburg arguing in whispers. I turned around in time to see Stromsburg hurrying towards me holding up a key in the sun.

"Mr. Omil kept the key to the place," she said. "Let's hope the key still works. It's been a while since this door has been opened."

It was a lie. That much I could tell. I examined her face as she fumbled with the lock and the knob. She looked like she was nervous about something. My eyes went back to Mr. Omil. He stood under the sun on the sidewalk across the front yard. There was something about his stance. He was tense. He watched us fretfully.

The door swung open. It made no sound.

"So how long has it been?"

"Two years," she answered.

Another lie.

They were both acting strangely. I had to admit that the signs were very subtle. Normal people would've shrugged it off their shoulders. But not I. Not after my transformation. I had been more observant especially when it came to human behavior. I wasn't a psychologist, but my interpretations were almost always correct.

"Thank you so much," I said. "I promise I won't be long."

"You know what?" she said quickly. "I've been afraid to enter this house since it closed down three years ago. But I think it's time for me to pay a visit." She sighed resolutely and nodded. "Yes… Let me join you."

"If you wish." I smiled and turned back towards Mr. Omil. He was nowhere to be seen. My eyes scanned the entire length of the sidewalk looking for him.

"He must've returned to the station," Stromsburg said when she noticed my small concern. "He'll wait for us in there with the food." Turning back to the inside of the house she motioned for me to enter. "After you, Celes."

I entered the house. The air was warm. It smelled of dried wood--not necessarily the rotting kind. The light from the windows allowed in sufficient light. The place looked bigger from the inside especially now that it had been cleared of furniture. The floorboards creaked a bit as I proceeded slowly, admiring the fine work done on the interior.

"Goodness! It certainly withstood the elements, hasn't it?" she said.

She was right. The outside appearance of the house lied about what it preserved in the inside. There was very little sign of disrepair. It was almost as if someone had been maintaining the interior all those years. A layer of dust on the floor was now disturbed by our intrusion. Cobwebs floated about like ghostly curtains. Harmless house spiders skittered above on the ceiling. A mouse ran across a hallway and disappeared into the fireplace. I was in the living quarters. It was spacious. I could imagine comfortable chairs facing the fireplace during story-time for the children in the winter, huddled together warmly under their cozy blankets.

"So what's V.V.O. stand for?" I asked, remembering the letters on the picture.

"Vector Veterans' Orphanage. Uninspired name, I know. This entire community was really supposed to be an ideal veterans' retirement place. But the children here have named this place 'The Marigolds.'" Stromsburg swung the door open wider. "I think I'll leave this door open to let the fresh air in," she said. Her voice echoed mildly. "Follow me into the kitchen."

I did. It was beyond a long hall that I presumed to be the dining hall. The kitchen was half the size of the dining area. An old sink and stove still stood there. I doubted that the faucet still worked. The stove probably still worked except that the chimney might be clogged during all those years.

"I found Tina here," she said, sighing. She pointed to a corner where the cupboards were. "It was the first time that I spoke with her. It was rather strange actually."

"What was?" I asked.

"She was crying when I saw her with the baby and the toddlers. When I took the baby from her, she hugged me and cried louder, saying, 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's all my fault!' The poor child thought she was to blame for what happened. I assumed it was a panic attack. She had been having them since that day."

"Did she have this condition prior to that?"

"Yes, she did. When I took over the place I went to the north wing. The doctors that used to treat the children there had left their records. I read them all. Of course, I knew at the time that it was illegal to read records like that. But who was there to stop me? Nobody wanted to care for the children any more. And it was important to know what was going on with each child. I needed to know which child required medical attention."

"Do you remember Tina's?" I asked.

"Yes." She gave me a look as if debating to herself whether she could trust me with such information. "I suppose it doesn't matter now that she's passed away. Not to mention the fact that I'm not a doctor breaking patient confidentiality." She started to walk slowly outside the kitchen to wander aimlessly into the other parts of the house. I followed. "Her condition was more psychological than physical. According to Tina's files written by her child psychiatrist, she was detached from the others. She kept quiet most of the time. She spoke very little. But that didn't stop her from finding her own ways to interact with the other children. She did special chores for the caretakers. She started helping more around the house and caring for the children. When I took over, she became my assistant." Stromsburg stopped before a grand staircase and faced me. "So… um… how did she…?"

She couldn't finish the sentence. I obligingly answered her unfinished question. "The Terra Episode." Stromsburg stiffened and frowned. "She was one of the first who perished. She… died quickly." I didn't know why I said the last sentence. I didn't know why that should matter.

"So the rebels got her," Stromsburg uttered. It was more of a statement than a question. "I heard the person responsible is behind bars," she said matter-of-factly. There was no hint of hatred in her voice.

"Awaiting trial," I lied. I had to. It was the kind of information that was released to the public.

Stromsburg started going up the stairs. Again, I followed behind her.

"I didn't know suspects were given trials." There was something about her voice. It sounded sarcastic. "At the very least, they were interrogated. Tortured, perhaps?"

I bowed my head slightly. I picked up on what she was getting at. "The Military overreacted, Mrs. Stromsburg."

"They still are."

"I agree. But that is going to change."

"Oh?" Her sarcasm was thicker now. I couldn't blame her. Being Chief of Police, she was closer to the civilians of Vector. Perhaps more understanding. No doubt she had heard about suspects being rounded up and interrogated. I knew that most of them were innocent. I knew that she knew that. "Do tell, Celes."

"I took over," I said succinctly.

"I'm sorry?"

"I took over the matters. It's my mission. The reason the military acted so impulsively was because they were in disarray," I started to explain.

"You mean the military panicked," she said in her attempt to correct me.

"We lost a general. The attack was so close to the Bronze Fortress."

"And you took it out on the citi--"

"Not me," I said sternly. "The military did. I was opposed to the whole idea. Many of the soldiers were. You have to understand this. We were merely following orders. This was before I became general."

"And now that you are…"

"I ordered those interrogations and unnecessary violence stopped. There will still be martial law, however. This much is necessary until we can justify its removal."

"I'm sure," she said, turning away from me.

I reached out my hand and caught her right shoulder. She stopped climbing the stairs and faced me again. "We're not all cold and unfeeling, Mrs. Stromsburg. I'm taking over Fencross's mission and things will change. Didn't you make the same promise when you took over the orphanage?"

Her cold face melted into an apologetic smile. "There is much courage and truthfulness in your eyes, Celes. I will never understand why they chose you as the new general. But I believe you."

We resumed our journey to the second floor.

"What else did Tina's files say?" I asked.

"She kept getting those strange dreams."

"Dreams? What kind of dreams?"

Stromsburg shook her head. "I don't know. She couldn't describe them. She told me that she started getting them when she was about six years old. I checked with the files. It did say that. She said something about a voice in her head. A voice that called to her. It terrified her at first. The doctors asked what the voice told her. Tina couldn't say."

"That was when she was much younger?"

"Yes."

"What about when you became matron? Did she say anything to you about the voice?"

Stromsburg nodded slowly. "I woke up once in the middle of the night. I thought I heard Tina's voice. I thought she was calling for help. I rushed to her room, and she was having a nightmare by the looks of it. I had to shake her hard to wake her up. She was scared. Her eyes looked at me like she didn't know me. 'Stay away!' she cried. She fought with me. I struggled to calm her down. She spoke gibberish, too. Yet, she spoke them with such clarity that you'd think they were real words. Foreign words."

"I thought she was born and raised here in Vector."

"She was. She had never set foot outside of Vector. It must've been due to her panic attacks."

"So what happened next?" I asked. The story made no sense, but I was deeply intrigued, nonetheless.

"She calmed down that night finally. She went back to sleep. The next morning, I asked what she dreamed about. She told me the exact same thing that the doctor wrote on her files. Only that time, she said there were voices. More than one. She told me that her dreams started out with just a voice. But as the years went by, more and more joined the chorus in her head… calling to her."

"Calling her to where?"

"She didn't know. She couldn't understand. She said they were speaking in a different language. It was then that I mentioned that she was speaking in a different language. She just shrugged it off. She said that they were just silly dreams." Stromsburg led me to a room. "This was her room. She slept here when I took over. My room is farther down the hall."

I went inside eagerly. The first things I noticed were the broken pieces of glass on the floor by the window. A telltale rock was in one corner of the room. The glass window had been broken for many years now. A spider had built its home in the hole in the glass as if trying to fix it with its meager capacities.

Stromsburg shook her head in disgust. "Those vandals! They have no respect for property."

I nodded my head, agreeing to her vaguely. Aside from the rock and the pieces of glass on the floor, the room was empty. I went over to the window and looked outside. Stromsburg continued to recount stories of the recent vandalisms perpetrated to the orphanage. I didn't pay much attention to it. Instead, I concentrated on the view. I could see heavy clusters of trees beyond the property line of the orphanage in the distance. The east wing was visible, too. Supposedly, it was the school. An array of windows lined it. They had bars on them making them look like a detention center. Looking down on the ground, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Omil walking towards a small door entrance to the school. I saw him pull out a key from his pocket. Using it on the door, it opened. He cast a paranoid glance around him before entering the building.

"At least, the new residents of this place have more respect!" I heard Stromsburg say.

I turned around curiously. "New residents?" I saw Stromsburg grinning at something on the floor. I followed her gaze and saw a mouse peeking out of a loose floorboard at the very corner of the room. I walked slowly towards the corner. It wasn't at all the mouse that attracted me to that spot. I wanted to look at the floorboard.

"Shh! Careful or you'll scare it away," Stromsburg said, adoring the small rodent. "I remember a time when a mouse ran across the dining hall. It created such bedlam that…"

I tuned her out. I examined the floorboard from a distance. It looked like that it could come off easily. I reached out to confirm my thoughts. The mouse sank back into the hole.

"Oh, pity! It's gone now. I dare say that after that chaos in the dining room, I couldn't recall a time when the children were that happy," she said chuckling. "Say… what do you have there?" Stromsburg moved in closer to the corner.

I pulled the floorboard off. It wasn't that hard at all. It wasn't even nailed to it. Placing it aside, I saw a small empty compartment. One could fit small things in it. This particular one was empty, to my disappointment.

Stromsburg chuckled again. "Yep. You'll see things like that in almost all of the bedrooms. The children liked to have their secret places to keep their treasured belongings in. I suppose if there was a child who'd most likely have one, it'd have been Tina."

"You think she used to hide things in here?" I asked, after replacing the floorboard.

"Most likely. I remember that she kept a journal. She wrote on it so religiously. I don't know what about, though. But she wrote on it like she had traveled around the world and had all sorts of interesting stories to tell."

"Do you know where this journal is now?"

"She took all her belongings with her when she left for the military. I doubt that she'd leave her only valued possession here."

Stromsburg turned to leave the room. She wanted to move on to see the rest of the house. I stood up and followed. She led me through the long hallway of bedrooms. She took a quick peek on each of them. They all looked the same--empty, dusty, and on some occasions, littered with broken pieces of glass. We were headed to the north side of the house. We both stopped before a barricaded door.

"What's wrong with this one?" I asked.

"That door used to lead to the north wing. Of course, as you may have noticed from the outside, the north wing is no more."

"What happened?"

"It burned down. 'Twas a case of arson."

I gasped. "Was anybody hurt?" I asked, thinking about the children.

"Oh, no! The children were already out of this orphanage when it happened. Of course, it was still tragic."

"Didn't the fire fighters next door respond quickly enough?"

"The fire department was the second building to be decommissioned after the orphanage. The empire pulled out their funding, too, stating that it was too expensive to maintain it. And then the police station followed."

"But the station is still here."

"Only because there were volunteers to keep it functioning. Most of the patrons were veterans who live here. Their sons and daughters became volunteer peacekeepers. The trauma center across the street closed down after another year. Then this neighborhood raised their own small clinic south of here, closer to the center of the community. The people here are proud of what they've accomplished. I know I am."

I looked at the barricaded door longingly. "Did they catch the people that did this?"

"I'm afraid not. Mr. Omil next door didn't really think much of it afterwards. They believed that it was possibly just some punk kid who got carried away with playing with fire. In which case, the culprit wasn't a real threat. Besides, we didn't have the manpower to launch an intensive investigation."

"I don't suppose you still have those children's records there," I said hopefully.

"'Fraid not," she said, shaking her head. "They all went up with the fire."

It was a pity. And how utterly convenient. I so would've loved to see the doctor's observations on Branford's dreams or other things. It seemed, however, that everything in the area had been decommissioned, one after the other. "I noticed that the recruitment center has closed down, too."

"That one was the last to go. It closed down the day Tina boarded the train to join the military."

"Please tell me more about that. Was it really her dream to be a soldier?"

"As strange as it might have sounded coming from her lips, yes. People from the recruitment center used to tell her that her parents were Vectorian heroes who died in the service of the emperor. I didn't catch the names of her parents, but the stories brought pride in Tina's eyes. One day, I sat down with her as she was eating alone in the dining hall. I asked what she meant by what she had said the first time I saw her in the kitchen. I asked why she was blaming herself for what happened. She said that she dreamt it before it happened."

"Before what happened?"

"The staff abandoning the house. Her dream somehow told her the future. I doubted that very much, of course. I was more worried about her thinking about such things."

"The voices told her?"

"I asked her the same thing. She said that a different chorus of voices told her. The Three Kindly Voices, she called them."

Three Voices?! I thought. What could Tina Branford know about…

"What exactly did the Three Voices tell her?"

"According to Tina, the voices told her that she couldn't stay in the orphanage very long. That she would have to go north for whatever the reason. She didn't fully understand it herself. But she said that, somehow, her destiny waited for her there. At that time, I thought about seeking professional help in the city for her."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing much after that. Except she started thinking more about her parents. It was as if she had been given a purpose or a goal in life that she could pursue. I suppose that was a good thing. Not a lot of the orphans had that. Tina started asking me questions about the military every night, as if I could answer all of them."

"What sort of questions?"

"Oh, you know… 'What is it like to be a soldier?' 'Would they accept a woman in the military?' 'Would you be okay working alone at the orphanage?' Things like that. Of course, I encouraged her to go after her dreams. Nothing would make me happier, really, to see every one of my children making something of themselves and being happy about it at the same time." Stromsburg looked into the past and recalled a memory. "She had doubts, however. She was afraid. She didn't know what to expect. The doubts kept her from leaving. But then, every night, the Kindly Voices would whisper to her. Tina said that they eased off her doubts and filled them with longing. Until one day, she was no longer afraid.

"She gave me a brief hug at the train station. Even after the hug, she still seemed distant. I told her that if she ever needed a place to fall back on, she should never hesitate to contact me. Then she smiled at me and said that the Kindly Voices told her that she'd be alright. I made a remark that perhaps two of the Kindly Voices were the voices of her parents. That made her smile some more. They were her inspiration.

"I didn't cry when she left. I felt a bit sad, but for some reason, I couldn't quite grieve for my personal loss. Much like I couldn't really mourn for her now after telling me the news of her death. The tears I shed outside weren't really for her. It was for the memories of the orphanage in general. There was just something about Tina that prevented me from acting out the stronger emotions. It's really hard to explain."

I nodded thoughtfully. I clung onto her every word. Even Stromsburg found it curious that I listened to her intently. "You know," Stromsburg started to say as we backtracked down the long hallway, "you never told me how you were related to Tina."

Indeed, I haven't. "No relation. The first time I've heard of her was when I started the investigation," I said truthfully. "She was already dead," I added, sadly.

Stromsburg raised a brow. "Really?" she said nonchalantly. "I thought you told me that your being here wasn't business?"

I sighed and didn't hesitate to answer. "I'm doing an investigation about Tina Branford, yes," I admitted. "But it's a personal investigation."

"Interesting. What's so special about Tina that caught your attention, Celes?"

"While I was doing my investigation about the first strike, her name came up. I will not say how exactly because that information is confidential. There are certain pieces of the puzzle about the whole thing that didn't seem to belong into the equation. Tina Branford was one of them. I'm just here, I guess, to clear things up."

"Was she a suspect?" Stromsburg asked worriedly.

"I cannot say," I answered softly. "But I have this feeling that she knew something important before she died. If she did, I want to know exactly what it was… if only to clear her name. There's a threat in the air about a traitor in the ranks. It's my job to find out if this is true."

"My Tina could not have been a traitor," she said in a loving, faithful voice.

"Are you sure about that, Mrs. Stromsburg?" I asked. It wasn't a question brought about by disbelief. It was a call to reconsider the possibility.

Stromsburg nodded firmly. "Yes. I am very sure," she said with a sad smile.

I smiled back. "I believe you. But I still think she knew something."

She nodded in understanding. "If she did, I'm willing to bet that she wrote it down on her diary."

"I've already checked her personal belongings. She didn't have too many. But I didn't see any journal among them."

"Oh, that's too bad."

The two of us exited the orphanage. She locked it with the same key she used to unlock it. The noontime sun still bore down on the village, endangering those who couldn't tolerate the heat. Stromsburg continued to tell me what happened next. Though it did not concern Tina Branford, it did concern the children of the orphanage.

"They simply couldn't stay here after that. Once again, the orphanage needed to be closer to sources of charitable acts. We moved them all to the city. An aid organization there took them in. I, on the other hand, was recruited by Mr. Omil to be his deputy. I continued my training in the city until I became the Chief of Police there. I never really pictured myself to be one holding a sword when I was little. But look at me now!" she exclaimed with bright humor.

"I got you beat," I simply commented. That made us both laugh in good spirits.

The time for me to return to the Bronze Compound came quickly. I did not join them for supper. I thanked them both and boarded the train back with echoes of thoughts in my mind.

"The children liked to have their secret places to keep their treasured belongings in. I suppose if there was a child who'd most likely have one, it'd have been Tina… I remember that she kept a journal. She wrote on it so religiously… She took all her belongings with her when she left for the military. I doubt that she'd leave her only valued possession here."

**********

I returned to the Bronze Compound. Five soldiers waited for me at the train stop at my request. I ordered them to follow me. Together we marched straight to Branford's old quarters. When we arrived there we found that it was already occupied by a new lieutenant. I couldn't allow that to hinder my search.

The door opened before me. A lieutenant still in his training uniform saluted.

"Lieutenant, step out of the room please," I ordered. He did so without question. I had no need to explain myself. "Take everything out!" I said to the five soldiers. They moved quickly. The lieutenant stood silently behind me, watching as the other soldiers carried his things outside of his quarters. He was nervous. He did not know what to make of this surprise inspection of his room… by a general.

After a few minutes the five soldiers reported back to me. "It's done, General."

I went inside the room. The soldiers followed including the lieutenant who was still scratching the back of his head. The place had been cleared of his belongings, including the bed. What was left inside was the carpeting. I pointed to it and ordered all six of them to tear it off the floorboards.

They all enacted on my command quickly. I was sure that they had questions in their mind. But they were right of them to keep silent about it. Even the lieutenant pulled on the carpet with all his might, tearing it off the floorboards, yanking out the staples, nails and adhesive that kept it on the floor. After that was done, the six of them rolled the ruined carpet and carried it outside. They went back inside room and waited for my next command.

I pulled out my sword and walked to the farthest corner of the room. I prodded on the floorboard with my sword at the corner listening to a hollow sound. I went to the next corner and did the same thing. The floorboard moved. It was loose. I raised my sword above me and struck the board once. The board split and splinters flew. The board gave way easily.

The board revealed a compartment similar to the one at the orphanage. Inside were two things. A metal black box and a small book with the initials 'T.B.' on the cover. I took both of them from the compartment, and after thoroughly checking the rest of the corners of the room, I gave the astonished soldiers their final order.

"Put everything back the way it was."

With that I left exited the room with the mysterious black box and Branford's journal.