Mable: Here we are with the next chapter! Enjoy!

Almost Feels Like Home

Chapter Fifty-Two

"I have information on Charlotte's passing, along with something she left behind. It's important that nobody knows about me or what I know, so I have left a letter hidden behind the claw machine at Foxy's Pirate's Cover. Do not tell the police of the workers at Foxy's about the letter or this one, or our means of conversation will be compromised, and what was left behind will be left forgotten."

Jessica raised her eyes from the paper she clutched tightly in her hands and looked over her listening friends. They all looked just as shocked as she had when she first read it. The group had met up at Marla's parents' house, as she was the only one other than Carlton who lived in Hurricane. Considering the wording in the letter it didn't seem wise to read the letter anywhere near his parents. She had managed to get them together by noontime after receiving the letter unexpectedly that morning.

"Wow…" Marla said. She seemed uncertain how to react. "Was there a name or anything?"

"No. There wasn't even a return address on the envelope," Jessica explained. "I thought at first it was a prank… But I don't know. Something about this seems a little too real. Someone went too far out of their way to do a prank like this. They would've had to somehow find my name and know I was close to Charlie…" She trailed off as she looked back to the letter.

It had been apparent to the others that Jessica hadn't gotten over Charlie's loss well at all. None of them even considered the possibility of one of them pulling such a prank, let alone anyone else they knew, as it would just be too cruel. That didn't mean that they weren't a little skeptical about it.

"This just seems really weird that suddenly out of the blue someone writes saying that they know something about Charlie. No, not even that- that they have something of hers," Carlton volunteered. He was sitting on the couch between Marla and John and looked to the latter. "And Foxy's, weren't you there like a week ago?"

"I went in when they reopened," John admitted. "It didn't seem like anything weird was going on. I ran into Mike and we talked a little bit, but he wasn't acting weird." At this point, pretty much all of them knew who Mike was; the purple clad security guard who always seemed a little too paranoid. Though his mention caused Jessica's head to shoot upwards.

"Do you think he would've sent this? He was there when it happened. Maybe there's something he didn't give to the police," she pointed out. Desperation edged on her voice as she looked back at the letter. "Or… I don't know. Maybe there's details he told the police that they didn't tell us."

"There's no way," John smoothly denied. "I'll admit that Mike guy is a little strange, but he's not that strange. I think the only reason he even came up to me was because he was shocked to see me there. Probably thought I was bringing bad news with me or something."

"Yeah, I'd go with that. Mike seems cool enough," Carlton agreed. Though he then lowered his voice and leaned in, like it was a secret. "Now that Sam guy? He's strange. My dad said that he's the one that used to work with Dave back at the old Freddy's. The guy even changed his name. What's more suspicious than that?"

"But then it would be stupid to draw attention to himself like this, wouldn't it? I don't think it's him either," the other young man denied.

"Okay, we're getting off topic. Chances are, it's someone who goes around Foxy's. Good start," Marla said to draw them back in. Clapping her hands once as though trying to catch the attention of restless children. She then looked attentively back to Jessica. "Can you tell anything from the handwriting?"

"That's not exactly how it works," Jessica admitted as she glanced at the letter. She then did a double take before squinting at it. "…But now that you mention it… Whoever wrote this must've wrote it a few times. Usually you don't see a letter where everything's completely in line. Usually there's a mistake somewhere. It's like they drafted it, taking care that nobody could see any quirks they could have. It's a lot of work, but it makes sense…" She lowered the letter with a slow exhale and sounded lost. "I don't know what to do."

"I think there's really only two options," volunteered another of their friends, Lamar. He was sitting on Jason's beanbag and thus almost disappeared from the conversation until he spoke up. He awkwardly pushed himself up and off it. "We take it as a prank and just ignore it, or we go to Foxy's and see if there's a letter there. See how far the rabbit hole goes."

"I'm guessing about three or four inches behind the claw machine," John offered. Though he then lowered his own gaze unsurely. "I don't know. I don't even know if it's worth it. The staff's probably been told to keep an eye out for us as it is, not to mention what Clay said about going over there." Clay, Carlton's father, had specifically told them- and his son- to try and avoid Foxy's. That it would just be easier for everyone is they avoided the place. Since then, none of them had been over there, save John's recent visit.

"Then I can go. I've never been in there. I didn't break in," Lamar pointed out, getting a more teasing tone at the end. He flashed a playful smile before looking back to Jessica and sobering up. "It's your call, Jess."

Before Jessica could give her answer, another voice called in. "Wait! I'll go too!" Out of the hallway came Jason, and none of them could tell how long he had been listening in. It could've been a while though. Since the incident at Magictime Theater, Jason had seemed to develop an almost unhealthy fixation on the pizzeria. He went over there frequently and occasionally mused about how 'alive' the animatronics could be.

Marla frowned at her brother's offer. "Jason, no. Mom's already said that you go down there way too much, and I know you're going to get stuck down there and then I'll have to go get you," she said in a huffy tone.

"I won't stay I promise, and I can show him where the claw machine is, so they don't see him looking around for it. Besides, I'm a kid, so they're not going to think it's weird I'm there."

"They're already not going to think it's weird, because you're there all the time," Marla pointed out. Seeing that Jason was going to get that pressing look, she rolled her eyes and caved, then looked over at Lamar. "You won't leave without him, right?"

"Only if Clay catches us," Lamar answered. "So, no. I'll bring him back with me."

Seeing their willingness made Jessica just as willing. She exhaled slowly and nodded in agreement. "I'll come too. Let's go now and hurry back." She grabbed her bag off the coffee table as John stood to see her off. She turned to face him. "We'll figure this out. Even if it isn't anything," she assured him, to which he nodded and followed them to the door.

It didn't take too long to drive to Foxy's. Jessica drove, taking care to avoid driving by the road to Charlie's old house, and soon pulled into the parking lot of the pizzeria. Even though it had its grand reopening a week or so ago it still looked to be brimming with customers, and it looked quite a bit different to when she was in there last. Jason started leading them to the back when Jessica glanced into the Prize Corner and noticed none other than Mike restocking. That suspicion from earlier started to slowly return.

"I think I'll wait by the door," she quietly said to Lamar. He nodded and continued after Jason while she fell back to stand beside the door.

At least now there was more to look at. There was a large present box by the door like in the Prize Corner, a couple of toy and candy machines, and she could see both Foxy and the ballerinas' stages from here. Not that she took her eyes off Lamar and Jason as they headed into the arcade. She was only distracted briefly by a small tapping sort of noise from the present box. It was a soft noise, as though the lid had lightly shifted, but it didn't look like anything changed. She ignored it, barely noticing the quiet jingling from inside.

Meanwhile, Jason led Lamar to the claw machine. He reached his hand around behind it before his fingers brushed something and he yanked out an unlabeled envelope. "Here it is!" he whispered as he stood and turned to Lamar. His excited smile instantly dropped as he looked past Lamar and noticed the slender form of the Puppet coming out of the Prize Corner. He immediately turned back towards the claw machine. "Don't look. Just look at the toys or something."

"What?" Lamar asked in confusion. He looked back and noticed the striped animatronic following its track. "Is this about the mime?"

"Stop staring at him," Jason insisted and beckoned him back. Lamar seemed a little skeptical about it but did as told, watching as the younger stuck a token in and started up the game.

"What's going on? Are you afraid of the mime or something? Because I think he's stuck to the roof. He's not going anywhere fast," the older assured him.

But Jason wasn't afraid of the Puppet. Far from it. In fact, he had a growing suspicion that the letter he now had tucked under his arm was not from the human staff at all, but from the striped one now passing behind him. It didn't stop as it headed through the arcade to its stage, but Jason knew it could pretend very well. He went through the motions and half-heartedly tried to pick up a golden colored Foxy, which unfortunately failed. With the Puppet on its stage and the curtains closed, the boy turned away quickly and guided his companion back to the front door. The three left shortly afterwards.

Marla, Carlton, and John were still at the house when they arrived. Though by now Marla and Carlton were in a heated debate over some television show while John watched with mild amusement. All three perked to attention when they entered, especially when Jason held up the envelope triumphantly.

"Oh my God, there really was another letter!" Marla gasped in shock as she rushed over to grab it. She snatched it from Jason and stared at it like it was gold, then looked to him. "Was that guy there?"

"Who, Mike? I didn't see him," Jason answered, frowning at the robbery. Jessica decided not to point out that she did see him since he hadn't done anything suspicious. She just stepped forward and Marla instinctively handed her the letter.

Inside of the envelope were two things. One was a folded-up letter while the other was an old picture. Looking at it, Jessica was shocked- and somewhat horrified- to see that it was a picture of them as children. More specifically, her, Charlie, and Marla crowded together at a birthday party, looking only four or five years old at most. She didn't know how anyone could have this photo and handed it off to Marla who gasped and passed it on. Then Jessica opened the letter and read.

"If you have this letter then you decided to continue on in finding the answers. This is your last chance to back out. If you are certain that you want to continue, then here is the next step. I need information of my own and am willing to trade what I know for what I don't. Retrieve a copy of Charlotte's autopsy report and seal it into an envelope marked with a safe address. At exactly eight o'clock at night, go around back at Foxy's Pirate's Cove and slip the envelope underneath the door. Do not tell the staff and do not get caught. I will send a letter to the safe address to continue communications."

"Okay, I know that this guy said not to go to the cops, but I'm starting to get the 'let's go to the cops' vibe," Carlton pointed out. Everyone was silent. "…What, nobody else? Just me?"

"No, I'm starting to get that feeling too," Lamar agreed. He made a hissing noise at the picture. "This is really weird. Who would have a copy of this?"

"Other than Jen? Nobody… But this isn't like Jen. She wouldn't do this," Jessica disagreed. She bit her bottom lip as her mind began to race. "…How would we get a copy of the autopsy report?" Everyone looked to her in disbelief. "I know I sound crazy pursuing this and I know these are red flags, but I can't just-… I can't just let this go." It was hard enough letting Charlie go. She couldn't risk one last attempt at closure.

"That is crazy!" Marla protested. "First of all, how would we even get that? We'd like have to get her birth certificate and get someone in there whose related to her-."

"Or I could just… Get a copy of the copy my dad has," Carlton volunteered. It was apparent as soon as he said this that he regretted it. He had unintentionally just got himself wrapped up in it. "But yeah, I think that would be a stupid idea."

"Maybe it is, but this is obviously not just a prank now! This is someone who knows something if they have access to Charlie's things. They couldn't have just gone into her house either and I doubt Jen would've just handed out pictures like this. This one's got smudges on it. This was someone's personal copy." Part of Jessica almost felt violated thinking that someone had these things that they weren't supposed to. The other part was becoming more suspicious that maybe they were supposed to have them. "We need more answers, so we need that autopsy report."

"Alright, alright! I'll get it!" Carlton agreed, raising his hands in defense. "But someone's going to have to come with me and distract if my parents are there." There were no immediate volunteers. "Oh, come on! Everyone wanted to go to the overstuffed, understaffed pizzeria, but nobody's willing to come to my house?"

"I'll go," John finally volunteered. "And the safe address?"

"There's my address," Jessica started to offer. Though then Marla butted in.

"How about here? Your place is out of the city. That way things will come here faster," she offered. This got an almost amused, almost incredulous look from Carlton.

"Really? You're just going to let this weird mystery man know your address?" he asked in almost a teasing tone. "That's like the first step in a bad thriller movie."

"It'll be fine! Nobody's going to pull anything on a house surrounded by a bunch of neighbors, and my parents are pretty much here from six onwards," Marla said. She then frowned at him. "And if this was a movie then I'd be way more concerned for you. The funny man always dies in a big shocker moment, and it usually looks like it hurts."

"At least I go out with a punchline," he quipped back. Marla rolled her eyes at him as he and John headed out. John hesitated only briefly to look back and saw Jessica looking at the picture again, having gotten it back. She looked so somber as she stared into a glimpse of the past. He couldn't help but worry for her. "Are you coming? Because I really don't want my parents to figure out I'm in on this. My mom will flip," Carlton said, snapping John out of his thoughts. He nodded and followed out the door.

Carlton's car was a new set of tires above a lemon. The air conditioning didn't work, it smelled of exhaust and old leather, and the windows no longer rolled down. The passenger's window was stuck open a couple of inches and was the only opening for air in the stagnant car. It almost seemed ironic that someone as well off as Carlton would have such a beat-up car, but it was a tribute to him trying to pay for it himself. But with only a part time job- and not a consistent part time job at that- it didn't look like he was in the state to afford much else.

"What did your dad say about the case against Freddy's?" John asked seemingly out of the blue. His suspicion was starting to edge back in as he considered the delicate nature of this. This might've not been a prank or sincerity, but an attempt to mislead the detective, knowing his son was close with Charlie. "Any new leads or anything?"

"You know he pretty much doesn't tell me anything… But I don't think so. Like, how many people still exist from back then? Everyone's pretty much dead… I could've worded that better, but still…" Carlton then looked over slowly. "You think that maybe it's Charlie's mom?"

This suggestion took John back for a moment. That would make complete sense if it was. Charlie's mother would've had the pictures and could've known details that Clay would've only given to her or Jen. It would've made complete sense… If not that she hadn't been seen in years. John didn't know the situation completely since Charlie had been taken into her aunt's custody as soon as it happened, but a short time after Henry's passing, she had packed up unexpectedly and left town in the middle of the night. From what he knew, she hadn't called, wrote, or contacted her since.

"No. She didn't even come to the funeral. How would she have something that Charlie left? We were closer to her than anyone else," John said dismissively. He was disappointed that she didn't turn up before the accident, and highly doubted that this was her now coming out of the woodwork.

"Yeah, you've got a point there. It would be really weird if she missed the funeral and the memorial only to suddenly appear as Miss Anonymous, leaving cryptic hints about knowing Charlie when she didn't even go to her high school graduation." After that failed suggestion, Carlton decided to fall silent until they arrived at his home. Thankfully, his parents were still out, and he headed straight into his father's office to find the papers. He was halfway through printing a copy of the autopsy report when a car pulled up outside.

"It's Mom. Go out there and distract her," Carlton insisted. He nearly shoved John out into the hallway. He continued to the front door and met the woman coming in. Carlton's mother- Betty, though John didn't know her well enough to refer to her as anything less than 'Mrs. Burke'- was a career-oriented woman with a warm smile. Unfortunately, she was also a clever woman, and that alone suggested that she would be harder to convince.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Burke," John greeted. She noticed him then and gave that smile.

"John! I didn't expect you. How are you?" Betty greeted in return. She shut the front door and turned to face him. Unfortunately, in this quiet pause was when more printing began, and he noticed her briefly furrow her brows. Distraction, right.

"I'm doing alright, better than I have in a long time. I applied for an internship at the Saint Spectrum News. It's not really my plan to go into journalism for the long term, but it's a good side while I'm still enrolled in school," John began to prattle. "But it's a paid internship, so if all goes well, I'll be able to finally move off campus."

"That's wonderful. I always knew your writing was going to get you somewhere," Betty complimented. Though she seemed half distracted as she looked past him. "Where's Carl?"

"He's printing something out," John dismissed. He didn't have time to come up with a reasonable excuse before Carlton stepped out of the back. He looked between the two of them as John spoke up. "There he is. He was just…"

"Making copies of a screenplay. I'm auditioning at the community theater and the guys are going to help me get my act together," Carlton quickly and unabashedly lied. "We're heading over to Marla's house to meet up with the others."

"Oh! Well, good. I think it's great you all are doing something. You always work so well together," Betty explained. She almost sounded a little doubtful but didn't say it directly. "What play is it?"

"It's like a mystery where a guy's trying to investigate the death of a rich guy and runs into a cast of colorful characters doing it," Carlton vaguely explained. "It's kind of like a mix of Clue and every other murder mystery ever written. It's called something like- I don't know- The Clock Struck Midnight?" He looked towards John for backing up and he shrugged. "I don't know, something like that."

"Now I don't know much about show business, but I think it might be a good idea to learn the name of the play before you audition," Betty said with light teasing. She seemed to become somewhat more convinced. "Just don't stay out too late tonight, alright?"

"I won't. This shouldn't take long," Carlton assured. That was the most truthful thing he had said the whole time. "See you later, Mom. Come on, John." With that, he quickly maneuvered them out of the house and back to the car. Soon they were driving back towards Marla's house with the car uncomfortably quiet and the papers resting in John's lap.

Carlton noticed John looking at him out of the corner of his eye and huffed. "Don't look at me like that. It's not like I wanted to lie to my mom back there." John nodded and looked away. This still didn't seem to be enough for the redhead. "It's just that Dad's been going insane over this Freddy's thing. He's talking about digging up bodies- now he thinks that Freddy guy was some guy named Will who used to work there when Charlie's dad did, so he wants to dig up the body and run tests on it. He's getting search warrants to check people's houses. This is serious stuff! Do you know what he'd do if he knew I did that?"

"He'd flip?" John guessed.

"He'd have a coronary. His eyes would pop out, his head would explode, and you would never see me again, because I would be confined to the basement for the rest of my life. And screw seeing any of you guys again." He huffed and looked out at the road. "You should've heard the lecture he gave me when he found out I was stopping by Foxy's."

"Why were you stopping by Foxy's?" John asked in confusion. "I went trying to look for some peace, but you've been there a few times."

"I just- I don't know. I like it there," Carlton admitted with a shrug. "The guys who work there recognize me and Foxy occasionally slips in a dirty joke. Who's going to turn that down?" He gave a joking smile for a moment, but it quickly faded. "They're always telling me I don't apply myself, but it I came in one day and said, "Hey, I'm taking a job at Foxy's" they would think I lost my mind. They would think that I'm just going through a rebel phase or something."

"I think it's a little late for that," John pointed out. He glanced down at the other's clothes. "Unless that wearing black thing was a genuine lifestyle choice."

"Wearing black in the desert isn't a lifestyle choice. It's like a deathstyle choice. It's a labor of love," Carlton answered. This at least eased the mood again, which was John's goal.

He knew things were tense with Carlton's parents. It wasn't hard to notice how they had slowly grown more distant over the years, and this case keeping Clay constantly working overtime didn't help. Especially when Betty was in the camp of believing that the Freddy's case was a fruitless endeavor, having little evidence to charge any party. In a passing thought, John wondered if their mysterious tipster would give them that evidence. He shook his head to himself and decided that this wouldn't be the case.

Once back at Marla's, John handed over the report to Jessica, who skimmed it quickly. She already knew what it was going to say, but reading it was a punch to the gut. He watched as her face tightened in dismay and asked if she was alright. She took a deep breath, folded the papers, and assured that she was. Then she stuffed them into an envelope that already had a folded piece of paper in it. The slip of notebook paper she had added had Marla's address on envelope was then sealed without labelling it.

When evening came, John and Jessica drove over to Foxy's where she slipped the envelope under the hurried and got back into the car with an exhale. "Okay, I did it," she said. She then sent him a tired smile. "Now I guess we just wait and see." He had given a small smile back and they hoped that maybe they would get a reply. Or Jessica did. John wasn't sure what he hoped for. They couldn't do anything but wait.

Two days later they got their reply when a minimally labelled letter found its way into Marla's mailbox. Knowing who it was from, she called her friends with the news. Being so early in the day and with others having classes and other things to do, John and Jessica were the only ones who could make it, with Marla cancelling any of her plans to see the letter with them. They ripped it open together and read what was inside.

"At ten o'clock tonight, I will deliver a letter to the safe address. The letter was authored by Charlotte and I've been holding on to it for some time. You may bring your friends together to read it, but I again request no police or outside parties. If I see either from outside, I will be forced to leave. This is all I can give you, but I think it will give you the closure Charlotte would've wanted to give you."

"I don't understand. Why not just send the letter in the mail?" Marla asked in confusion. "And a secret letter from Charlie? He could've just written that himself!"

"We'd be able to tell. I know Charlie's handwriting, and we'd also be able to tell if the letter was written recently or months ago," Jessica quickly defended. She didn't know why she defended it so wildly except she was so desperate to read this supposed letter from her best friend. She didn't know what it could possibly say, but they were the last words she would ever read from her. She needed them and didn't care of cost.

Jessica was yanked out of her thoughts by John's hand on her back. "Jess, I know we miss her, but this sounds sketchy. Even more sketchy than having us drop off letters at Foxy's. They're asking to come here in the middle of the night," he pointed out.

"But if we're all here then they couldn't do anything, could they?" Jessica persisted almost in a challenge. "Marla's parents would be here; we would all be here- It's probably one of the workers at Foxy's who somehow had a letter Charlie wrote. Remember how she was trying so hard to find out about Henry? They could have a letter she wrote to them and were afraid to turn it into the police because Clay's all over the pizzeria. Maybe Charlie knew Dave was behind it before she went to Magictime!" John seemed doubtful but she was pleading. "We've got nothing to lose."

"I don't know about that…" John sighed and caved. "But I guess it's not like we have a choice. They're coming here tonight with or without us. We ought to be here to make sure that nothing does happen if it is some sort of trick." Marla nodded rapidly in agreement, and the plan was made.

By ten o'clock that evening, everyone was at Marla's yet again. They had continued with Carlton's lie about the play and used that excuse to explain why all of them would be at the house so late. Marla's parents were unconcerned and did their own thing for most of the evening, almost completely disappearing into their room after nine-thirty. Jason was the exact opposite and planted himself in his beanbag as soon as nine-thirty had rolled around. Marla had tried to convince him to leave more than once, but Jason neither bought the 'play' lie nor did he intend to go anywhere until ten o'clock. So, he stayed.

Ironically, it felt like a scene taken out of a murder mystery. All the guests were holed up in the living room getting antsier the closer that it got to ten. Marla was anxious eating her way through the bottom crumbs of a bowl of chips. Carlton sat on the sofa beside her, leaned back and staring at the ceiling and looking bored. Lamar was in the armchair, leg shaking, and trying to pay attention to whatever was on TV. John had begun to pace behind the sofa to stretch his legs after they stiffened up. Then there was Jessica, sitting alongside Marla, still clutching to and staring at the picture of the birthday party.

She hadn't looked at it since they had gotten it a few days before, but now she was transfixed with it. Or more used it as a target to stare at as her mind wavered through wave after wave of guilt. Her eyes burned and she ignored it, refusing to blink or risk tears. Marla must've noticed something as she gave her a one-armed hug before standing with the chip bowl.

"Alright, this is our last chance for a snack run," Marla announced. She nudged Carlton's leg, both to move and to alert him. "Hey, you come with me. You can help me pick out what bag to tear open next."

"You say that, but what you really mean is that you're going to stick me with carrying everything," Carlton pointed out. He was rewarded with the heavy bowl being nearly dropped onto his chest.

"Pretty much." Marla beamed and he rolled his eyes, then stood from the couch and started into the kitchen. Lamar joined them, if only because he needed to stretch his legs anyway, and Jason eventually followed once John sat beside Jessica.

"Jess…" She looked up to him for a moment but caved as she saw his sympathetic look. It only made her more aware of how she must've looked. Especially to her friends. "Jess, it's going to be okay."

"I'm sorry. I've been a mess for days," she admitted as she reached up to rub her face. Unfortunately, tears had began to collect in her eyelashes, and she cleared them away just to look at the clock. Only a couple of minutes before ten. He noticed and reached out to turn her towards him by the shoulders, trying to give her a reprieve before whatever was to come.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. Look at us; we're all a mess. We're putting all our hopes and faith into this letter, but… It's not going to bring her back," John admitted somberly. He didn't want to say it but felt as though he had to. "This is for us. This is just about us getting closure with what we have." They fell silent as Jessica turned herself away again.

"How am I supposed to get closure?" she quietly asked. "…When I'm the reason she's gone?"

"Jess, that's not true. You know it's not."

"I knew she was going to do something, and I didn't do anything," Jessica snapped back. "Charlie was asking for help and none of us did anything. I don't even remember what I was doing that was so important that I couldn't be there with her, but I will never forget where I was when Clay told me she was dead!" She choked on her tears and her voice cracked. She lowered her head enough to block her face with her hair. "And I'm still waiting for her to call me back."

John had enough. He took her into a tight embrace and held her close as she broke down. It didn't matter how well she put herself together or how seamlessly she continued with her life, he could see straight through to that pain, and that was because he recognized it. Maybe he didn't cry, maybe he wasn't waiting, but he regretted missing that last call. He regretted so much of what happened.

Once she pulled herself together enough to pull back, he turned his attention to her fully again. Her mascara was already starting to run. He could already predict that once she recovered, she would have her own little amount of panic when she saw the mess and got the briefest smile at that. Things were so different now; he couldn't have ever imagined that he and Jessica would've been holding each other up, as they had numerous times throughout the last few months.

"It's not your fault," John insisted. "I know it feels like it, but it's not. We just… We just have to do this."

The girl nodded stiffly in agreement. She needed to stay strong for this. She gave him a small smile to show that she was alright enough, and John held his own. They could do this together, no matter what came from tonight. With that determination, John leaned in and took Jessica's lips in a chaste kiss of reassurance.

It was at that moment that Charlie realized she had made a terrible mistake.

Unknown to the two comforting each other, there was an onlooker just outside the side window, hidden barely by the half-drawn curtains and standing beside a garbage can. She had chosen this window as she knew it would be less noticeable, which was a good call as nobody had seen her in the darkness. In her hands she clutched one final letter, one that would say everything that she wanted to tell them. It would express her care for them, her apologies, assuring them that a part of her would still be alive, but not telling them the full truth. It had seemed so innocent in practice.

It was seeing John and Jessica kiss and embrace each other, comforting each other as any couple would, that made her realize it was too late. They were in the process of moving on with their lives and all she did was stoke the flames again. They were trying to get over her and here she was reopening the wound. They moved on; she didn't know whether to be devastated or embarrassed that she hadn't been expecting this. Now she didn't even know whether it was worth leaving the letter or just sneaking away with her shame before any feelings poured out.

She had just missed them so much. Her hands tightened on the envelope as metal tightened in her chest, wondering what she even wanted from all of this. What would be more merciful, leaving the letter and putting them through more upset or leaving with it and leaving them to forever wonder what happened? She had bit off more than she could true. This had been such a mistake.

…How long had they waited after she was dead before they moved on together?

Maybe it would be better if Charlie left and pretended she had never come. They would be able to go back to their lives and so would she. She stepped back from the window and backed across the driveway towards her escape, looking around carefully and the trees surrounding Marla's house. Another step back towards the trees and just prepared to turn and run.

Which she would've done, if not for the security light suddenly coming on at the corner of the house. She hadn't even noticed it before and somehow managed to skirt by, and now when she needed to leave, she set it off. She froze under the light as though it was a stage light, shuttering in place and body locking up, and only managed to regain control as she heard someone at the back door. She dove forwards and dropped down beside the trashcan to hide herself.

It was Jason who opened the back door and looked out towards the light. Charlie's breath hitched as she heard Marla's voice from inside. "Who is it? Is the guy out there?" She almost sounded panicked.

"I don't see anyone," Jason answered. He turned back towards the backdoor and the Security Puppet thought he would be heading back inside. She made a mad sprint across the driveway. "There's nobody- Dah!" Jason caught the black blur out of the corner of his eye and looked over just fast enough to see the figure disappear through the trees. She vaguely heard him call after her. "No, wait! Don't go! Wait!" Almost as though he knew who she was- or thought he did.

But Charlie didn't have the luxury of even considering it. She tore around the trees and to the next house, and then disappeared behind it. Marla's house was only a few streets away from Mike's and all she needed to do was get home without being caught, which wouldn't be too difficult if she was quick. Which she was; she didn't notice until running now that she was much faster in this body, even if the lack of feet and unbalanced points meant that she could fall at any moment. She certainly tripped once coming over the curve and made a mad dash down the sidewalk.

"Don't panic, they won't notice. They never notice anything," Charlie assured herself as she pulled the hood over her head. Honestly, this was the perfect place to run too. Marla lived in a more rural section of the city, but it was still only a street or two over from where she used to live, so she still knew it like the back of her hand. She continued her run alongside a wooden fence. "If Foxy can do it then so can I. Just have to be careful and retrace my steps."

She whipped around the corner of the fence and proceeded to stop dead in her track at the sight of headlights far down the road. A car that probably didn't see her and most definitely wasn't connected with her, but the sight of those blinding headlights facing towards her sent a jolt of alarm down her back. She began to panic and instantly jumped up for the top of the fence and hoisted herself over. She landed in a heap in the grass of the fenced in backyard, but just barely out of reach of the lights shining through the house's windows. She stayed there, pressed against the wood, until she heard the car driving by.

"That was close… It's not safe out here. That could've been them already driving around looking for me," Charlie thought. Her judgement clouded in paranoia as she tried to reconsider her options. "I need to hide until I'm sure they're not following me." She looked around the backyard and noticed a small playhouse underneath a tall tree. That seemed like a possible option and she started to turn herself to go over when she noticed the tree again. "Wait… Wait, I know this house. This is where Cassidy used to live." She looked around at the surroundings to make sure. "…Which means I shouldn't be too far from Dad's house."

It would have to work. It was either that or hide out in a playhouse, possibly getting stuck there until morning, and risking getting spotted by some young child with a tendency to scream. Even if it meant going slightly off the direction towards home. She braced and pulled herself up on the fence, peeking over the other side and making sure nobody was there, and then climbed over. The only cars were far down the road where she saw the lights of a fast food restaurant, so she made the bold move of running across the street. If there was anything good about the quiet suburbs, it was that car activity slowed down at night.

Not all activity though. The biggest challenge to face was passing a house with a front porch where four people- it looked like two couples- were rowdily carrying on. She had to nearly crawl through the bushes to the back of the house, run across the backyard- turning on yet another motion detector light- and then crawl along the other set of bushes before sneaking back onto the sidewalk.

There was one brief incident with a dog in a kennel barking loudly and following her as far as it could, which led to another panicked moment of sprinting and diving into a ditch. She waited there until after she heard the frustrated owner yelling at the dog to quiet. Then it was just a matter of continuing a little further and climbing over the rickety, peeling fence that separated her from her old family home.

It was only now as she looked around that she noticed the disrepair and emptiness of the surrounding houses. She had partially noticed it before, but now it was only more apparent. As though the homemakers who had left years ago made the houses unlivable. Now she had to wonder what caused this neighborhood to go quiet.

She had brought the spare key with her in case of an emergency, which was a relief now as she easily let herself inside. Charlie shut the door and then pressed back against it. Her legs felt strange, tingling in protest, and she slid down to sit on the floor. She couldn't exactly catch her breath but did the best she could to rest herself. It was quiet in the house all was as silent as could be. It was now that her mind caught up with her.

"Why am I surprised? Its been months. They can't put their lives on hold forever... Even when I was with him, I never tried hard enough. How many dates did I avoid, or how many calls did I avoid? All because you wanted to know about your dad's business, Charlie." Her fingers twisted into the envelope in frustration and remorse. "All because you wanted to be a part of his business. Well, you got your wish."

With a burst of frustration, she tore open the envelope and yanked out the letter inside. She quickly tore it apart, angry at herself for her decisions, and tossing the paper down like confetti on the carpet. Charlie then slumped against the door and let her head hang. She didn't cry by some act of mercy, but that didn't mean she felt much better. Especially now that she was paranoid and uncomfortable.

She would have to sneak back out in a few hours and get home, during which there would be no way that Mike and Marionette wouldn't have noticed how long she had been gone. There was no doubt that they would be upset, especially since this wasn't the first time and she couldn't fall on confusion as an excuse for her behavior. Funny, nobody was watching when they needed to be, but now they would.

"I hate this town," she muttered as she readjusted her hood. Maybe it was just worth calling them if the phone service was active. It didn't look like the electricity was, so probably not. She had half a mind to kill a few hours sleeping in her old bed, then hope that Mike got wise and drove over to get her. She shifted herself to start to stand back up.

She was interrupted by what sounded like heavy footsteps. Charlie stopped short and listened in close. There was someone else in the house with her and she could hear the thumps of its feet on the hall carpet. If it wasn't for how labored and weighty that they sounded, she would've thought it was a human, but now she was doubtful. Frozen against the door, she watched as it slowly stepped out into view.

The damaged legs were shredded near the ankle, revealing metal endoskeleton feet. Slowly climbing the suit revealed thick patches of soot, the sporadically placed tears and burns, climbing to clenched fists. Fabric, once golden or yellow, now looked bruised in how it was patterned with the remains of fire residue. A wound in its chest revealed the metal frame inside, showing that there was nothing human waiting inside. One ear jutted upright while the other was broken off halfway, the fabric shredded as though something tore through it. And underneath them waited the clenched smile of bared teeth.

It turned its head with a slow creak and glowing dots of light settled on her in the center of what looked like empty eyeholes in the darkness of the house. It stared at her as though remembering her, and she certainly remembered it.

It was the Golden Bonnie suit. It was her living nightmare.

Mislead: He came back.