Important note: TRIGGER WARNINGS: Burn description and disturbing concepts.

…...

It had taken fifty six minutes for Vivi to make up her mind how she felt. Fifty six minutes from the time Squire had gunned the engine to get them as far away from that frog-forsaken mansion as humanly possible. Fifty six minutes to think about the look of shock on that bony face. The confusion and hesitation of the spirit, stopped mid-murder. The out of place tender expression. The beating heart hovering toward her outstretched fingers. The explosion of pink flame that nearly consumed them all, breaking itself against the protection field from her talisman.

The protection based on the object he'd left for her. Or, rather, would have given her, if he'd had the chance.

Lewis Pepper. The name left a sour taste in her mouth as her mouth finally set in a hard line. At the fifteen minute mark, when they were far enough away that they couldn't see the mansion anymore, Squire began to lose it. He was choking and sobbing and trying to speak, then freezing up and swerving all over the thankfully empty road.

She'd managed to talk him down enough to park the car and crawl into the backseat. Sending Mystery back to watch over him, she'd buckled herself in the driver's seat, adjusted the mirrors, and kept driving.

At the forty minute mark, after hearing Arthur alternate between whimpering and crying, ice began to settle in her chest. And at fifty six minutes, she was sure.

This wasn't a swing. Everything was crystal clear. She'd been wrong, so very wrong this whole time. Lewis Pepper wasn't anything like she'd heard. Everyone was wrong. She must have taken him in under the misguided notion that she could help him, because obviously he'd been sick. Pity at best, but never love. She could never, ever have loved someone… something like that.

She'd checked them into the first hotel they could find. It was a run-down dive, but it didn't matter. Squire was practically choking in the back, and Vivi was running through the various methods of exorcism she would use should she come across Lewis Pepper again. There would be no meeting with team Tome Tomb for a while yet. Not until they sorted out this new development.

When Squire locked himself in the bathroom, Vivi lost it. Aji was small potatoes at this point, and Kay would agree as soon as she got here. Which she would, even if Vivi had to haul her here by the tail feathers. If Kay had those, of course.

Luckily a terse voicemail did the trick. She hadn't expected Mr. Pepper and Dulcie in tow, but at this point she didn't care. She could muster a flicker of concern for Squire, but he was behind a locked door and there wasn't anything she could do for him.

She should have expected Kay to take Lewis' side. Should have known nobody in the Pepper family would believe that their precious Lewis was at fault for something. For her the feeling of Squire's flaking skin, the smell of charred flesh, and the sound of his dying cries were fresh memories. None of them had seen it, save Mystery and Chloe, but Chloe was gone and Mystery wouldn't talk around the other Peppers.

Stupid Kay.

What she couldn't have predicted was Mr. Pepper speaking up. While she couldn't imagine his "How I met your mother" letter helping anything, she couldn't afford to turn her nose up at any clues. Mr. Pepper gave Dulcie his iPhone and asked her to stay in the bathroom and play a game, promising that he would tell her the story when she was older, but that she wasn't old enough for some things yet. Reluctantly, she retreated to the bathroom and shut the door.

Mr. Pepper took Kay's hands in his and murmured, "I love your mother, Kay. But she has kept things from you too long. Please don't think poorly of her. You can't know…" He trailed off, then released her hands and turned to the laptop. Setting his fingers to the keys, he began to write, three sets of eyes reading over his shoulder.

…..

I know some specifics that will be useful to you, but I write down everything I know in case it gives you further clues I haven't thought of.

I was working the galley of a top of the line cargo ship at the time. I developed a reputation pretty quickly and had the pick of any liner I wanted to work. There wasn't ever a complaint about the food because I took it as a personal challenge to have something for everyone.

We were passing through a cluster of the North Aegean islands and I was pulling together the evening meal. Most of the crew would be on land leave by nightfall and not as much food prep was required. With that in mind, I dismissed my team, cranked up my iPod, and got busy. I could easily handle dinner for a couple dozen by myself.

A couple hours passed, but nobody came to the galley. I poked my head out to see where everyone was, but nobody was in the halls. I thought maybe we'd docked and I hadn't noticed. But that couldn't be. I was so used to constant motion that I always noticed the lack of it when we docked, and we weren't docked.

I pulled my headphones out and wandered out into the hall when I saw Dave lying on the ground, just outside the galley. I dropped, shouting for the medic and checking Dave's breathing, but he was already dead. I ran for the medbay, but it wasn't just Dave. It was Kevin and Michael and crusty old John and even Captain Roberts. Everywhere I went there were bodies on the ground. Whit. Tom. Eugene. Then I realized Captain Roberts was down, but we were still moving. And about ten seconds after that, I was thrown down the hall as we ran aground.

I picked myself up and ran to the deck. The freighter was hung up on rocks, and even from where I was I could see holes in the hull. She wasn't going anywhere, but the rocks looked to be holding her firm. All around me I could see other ships, some old wooden beasts so ragged they were practically ghost ships, a cruise liner, the odd yacht or two. What was odd to me was they were all pointed inward in the same direction, like they'd been meaning to come to this place.

I thought to try the computers first. There was still power on the ship, and it's not like we were some 18th century frigate. Somebody had to be alerted to our crash. I was about to head to the bridge when I saw something moving on the side of the ship. It vanished into one of the holes in the hull, but it looked like a large animal.

I decided the bridge was not an option anymore. If it was an animal, I wasn't interested in staying around. There were plenty of lifeboats more than equipped with supplies and equipment to contact anyone nearby. If anyone else had survived, the lifeboats would be the first place they'd go anyway. If no one was there, then it was just me.

When I got to the lifeboats, no one was there. I kept telling myself that it was because they were all dead, that there was no other reason. It didn't work, and I found myself turning back. I had to check every room at least once to make sure. If there was even a possibility someone had been left alive I couldn't leave them.

Bottom to top was best so I could be sure I hadn't missed anyone. I took the stairs down to the hold, which was still taking on water. I could see the rocks like teeth sunk through the hull. At least there wasn't a chance at the ship sinking any lower. I couldn't search the hold properly as it was filling fast, so I called out a couple of times and took my leave when nobody answered. On my way, I grabbed an emergency hatchet in case I found the animal.

I searched the lower levels room by room, ready to run into each and lock the door. I both wished for and dreaded hearing any noise that wasn't my heartbeat and the rush of incoming water. Some rooms were empty and some were occupied, but every occupant I found was dead. None appeared injured, in fact each looked as if they'd just fallen asleep and died where they lay.

I'd nearly worked my way back to the galley when I finally heard something. It was a loud clattering from metal pans and frantic chewing noises, but the grunts were human sounding, not animalistic. Holding the hatchet at the ready, I peered around the corner.

The woman crouched on top of my counter was not one of our crew. Wrapped in threadbare rags, she was ripping into the meal I'd prepared for the others. She was dark and wild and had hardly any meat on her bones. I could see her ribs poking through the rags.

If this was the animal I'd seen, she wasn't any threat to me, I reasoned. I set the axe down, but the sound must have startled her. She caught sight of me and froze.

"Hey," I said. "I'm Timothy."

She began to shake, and I thought I must have scared her. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Look, I'm just going to finish checking for survivors, we had a wreck. You probably saw us. Did you wreck off one of those other ships? We have lifeboats on this one."

"Kanéna," she whispered.

"Is that your name?" I asked.

"Kanéna!" she screamed at me. "Tréximo!"

I took a step back. She didn't speak English, that was clear, but I've never been able to pick up other languages. I put my hands out, speaking calmly so she'd get I wasn't a threat. She grabbed a roast between her teeth and burst past me, heading for the deck.

She was the only living person I'd seen aboard the ship, even if she hadn't come from it, and I wasn't about to let her out of my sight. I chased after her, but she was fast. She reached the prow and swan-dived off it.

Sick, I looked over the side, sure she was dead on the rocks. But no, she was swimming between them, headed for the island. She had the luck of the gods on her side to miss the rocks.

I finished checking the ship. Nobody was left alive. I lowered the lifeboat, then slid down into it. Not once could I stop thinking about the starving woman.

Leaving her would be criminal, so I routed the lifeboat away from the rocks and looked for a safe place to beach it. When I had, I went looking for her, armed with my hatchet in case she had unfriendly allies.

I didn't find her until almost nightfall. She was passed out at the mouth of a cave. It reeked of something rotten and she smelled like vomit. She must have eaten too fast and her body couldn't take it. I pulled off my jacket and wrapped it around her. Light as a feather she was. Her hands looked just fine now, but the skin on her arms twisted in on itself in ropey scars from her wrists to her shoulders and on to her shoulder blades.

I took her back to the lifeboat. It was too dark to start out, so I wrapped her in one of the blankets and put the other on myself. I got some water down her throat along with half a ration bar. The few times she woke she was delirious and kept muttering things and humming. Her humming was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard, and I found myself staring at her for long stretches of time, hoping she would do it again. It was this way all night.

By morning I hadn't slept at all, and escape was the furthest thing from my mind. All I wanted to do was stay and watch this woman I'd only just met as long as I lived. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked at me, and there was the coldest despair in her expression. I thought somehow I had failed her, and I opened my mouth to apologize when she cut me off.

"Tréximo."

That word again. I didn't understand it, but I knew what I had to do. I got to my feet and leapt off the boat onto the island and began to run. I didn't know where I was running, but I knew I had to run. And somehow I knew it was because the wild woman wanted me to.