"Descole! It's you!" Luke shouted, his steadfast tone wavering a little with his own disbelief. He dashed the mask onto the floor. How could they have been living alongside him for all this time and not suspected anything at all?

Sycamore's eyes narrowed, and looked away from the boy. He brought his hand to his face. Normally, this would be the moment where he reveals his 'true' identity before either causing as much destruction as he could or leaving dramatically. The part where he would at least make a final stab for victory. He could do none of it. He wasn't finished - he couldn't finish without their help.

"Desc..." His words began as merely a tapered-off whisper. In attempt to conceal the apprehension that he could feel was being involuntarily projected onto his face, Sycamore forced himself to remove any traces of emotion with a slow breath - it was all so much more difficult when you weren't hiding behind a disguise. "D-Descole?" He said again, trying to be more firm. But that single name had come out more hesitant than it was meant to.

He gasped quietly at the realisation of his dubious tone. "No." He said, reducing his voice back down to a whisper. His biggest fear was Layton overhearing - if he found out then his cover would, without a doubt, be blown completely.

Luke folded his arms and squinted back at the man. There would be no hiding it anymore He thought. The professor would be so proud of him for finding out before he did - and before Descole could cause any trouble. The boy growled in frustration - any other time Descole would have admitted to being in a disguise. This time, however... "You're a fake! An impostor!" The man's disbelieving tone wasn't about to fool him.

The rain seemed to suddenly intensify. The light pattering of the little beads becoming heavier, bouncing off every surface.

Luke's hands clenched into tight fists and he leapt forward at Sycamore, shouting and screaming. Fragments of the smashed glass were strewn across the floor. The boy seized the professor's hair, yanking at it. The second this disguise was removed they would see Descole for who he really was.

"LUKE!" Sycamore yelled, his anger flaring as he shoved the small boy away. His narrowed, anger-filled eyes widened. He shouldn't have done that, even though the child was attacking him.

The boy gave a yelp, and stumbled backwards, falling onto the bed.

"Wha- What are you doing?" Cried a small voice from behind the door.

The pair's eyes jumped to the doorway. One with a look of determination, the other looking devastated.

"A-Aurora, I-" Sycamore began unsteadily, straightening his tie and then bringing his hand to his glasses. He did not know long she had been standing there, but knowing his luck she hadn't seen Luke attack him first, making his actions look completely irrational. He pushed up his glasses and ran his hand through his now untidy hair.

"Don't you listen to him Aurora! He is a traitor!" Luke yelled at the girl, pointing an accusing finger at the professor. "This isn't Professor Sycamore - the real Sycamore is probably locked away somewhere - it is Descole, and he can't be trusted!" The boy backed away slowly to stand next to Aurora. If he had removed the disguise then she would have been able to see the proof herself.

The Azran girl gasped and looked up at Sycamore. The professor couldn't meet her gaze.

The uproar had awoken another member of the Bostonius up - Emmy.

"Hey! What on earth is going on here?" She snapped, folding her arms. She paused, registering the conversation that she had heard. "Luke did you just accuse the professor of being-"

"No..." Sycamore sighed, his voice becoming calmer and more collected - like it usually was. "I am Desmond Sycamore." Telling the truth gave him the ability to speak with more conviction than he had to begin with.

Sycamore turned his back on all of them and paced towards the back wall. His hand was sprawled out across the side of his face, hiding his torment. "Perhaps it is best for you all to go back to sleep." he took a glance at the clock, before turning back around. His hand slid down to under his ear. "Maybe try to get in a few more hours?"

Emmy frowned but then placed a hand on Luke's shoulder to guide him out of the room. The boy scowled. "Get off me!" he snapped at Emmy.

"Luke..." Emmy began. She had descovered that Luke could get quite angry at times - when that happened, it was best to leave him alone for a bit.

Something wasn't right about Professor Sycamore he thought, and he was certain that he knew why. Luke remembered what happened at the museum with his dad: Layton had been investigating who had stolen the Azran relics, and the second he considered Descole as a suspect the other professor jumped in to quickly mention that it was probably someone else - not to mention the fact he knew about the problems that Layton had encountered with the man when the professor had told nobody of them.


Luke and Aurora both headed back to bed feeling perplexed. Once she had seen to them both, Emmy returned to Sycamore's room. She knocked the door (which was now shut fully unlike earlier) with a single knuckle.

"Who is it?" the professor asked, his voice sounding dull and monotone.

"It is me, Emmy! Can I come in?"

There was some shuffling from within the room, then a few seconds later, Sycamore replied, "Okay."

Emmy walked in to see the professor on the floor, clearing up broken glass from the floor - she hadn't noticed it there before.

They both fell silent. The professor continued to sweep up the glass. He had nothing to tell Emmy - nothing that he wanted to tell her, anyway.

"Professor you didn't smash that glass did you?" she asked, lifting a finger. "You don't seem like the sort of person who would wreck things in a fit of rage."

"It was Luke that dropped it." He said, continuing to look down at the floor. He paused for a moment, looked up, then quickly added: "It was an accident though, so don't get on at him." The less Luke spoke about what happened, the better.

"Are you sure?" Emmy asked with a slight frown. "He was getting pretty angry from what I heard."

"Yes, I am sure." Sycamore answered, standing up to throw away the broken glass.

After throwing it away he picked up his glasses off of his bed. He wasn't sure what or who Emmy believed, and if he could convince her then maybe she could convince Luke. Sycamore turned to her. "I am Desmond Sycamore." he stated to Emmy; repeating what he had said earlier.

She gave him a look of concern. "I know." she said.

There was another silence.

"...you know, I have to wonder what made him accuse you of being Descole." Emmy stated, "What exactly happened?"

Sycamore adjusted his glasses. He had no choice but to tell the truth in order to stay convincing - embellished with a few lies, that is. "I heard someone walk past my room and go into the kitchen. It came from one of the end rooms and I just assumed it was Layton. If I'd have known it was Luke I would have spoken to him." the man began, telling the truth. "He was mumbling something or another to himself, then a few minutes later I turn to see him in this room." Sycamore pushed back his glasses nervously yet again. "He started shouting, and then decided to attack me... The rest I presume you heard."

"That doesn't seem like Luke, he isn't really one to get mad without a reason." Emmy thought for a moment before continuing, "What made him think you were Descole anyway?"

"We wear the same shoes apparently." Sycamore murmured, picking out the weakest of Luke's arguments intentionally.

"Oh." Emmy looked down at the professor's shoes and let out a stifled giggled

"I don't know..." Sycamore sighed. "Please just get it through to him that I'm not..." It wasn't Emmy that he was trying to convince, it was himself. "I am not a bad person. He has got it all wrong."

"I'll do that for you now - if he is still awake, that is." She offered with a smile. The suspiciously regretful way in which he spoke seemed to go over her head.

"Thank you." He nodded back with a quiet smile.

"Goodnight, professor." Emmy said sweetly.

"Goodnight."