A/N: This story has ten chapters total. Kind of hefty, I know, but stick with me. I'm hoping I can keep you enticed 'til the end :)

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The cemetery where my aunt was buried was a step up from a pauper's mass grave. The tombstones were lopsided and mossy, and the mounds of earth looked as if they had been piled haphazardly into the graves within minutes. My aunt was lucky enough to have her own headstone, though it had been knocked over some years ago.

Looking at the fallen stone, I sighed. I wondered if I would die this way, penniless and unworthy of a proper memory in anyone's mind. Kneeling into the dead turf, I tried to remember where I had buried the ring my aunt had given me. The ring was some cheap gemstone on a fake gold band, but she had assured me that it was genuine. It had been my ninth birthday present, and even at that age I knew a last minute gift when I saw one. When she died, I had stuck the ring in its own shallow little grave to rest with its previous owner. She had deserved its cheap plastic more than me. The two were made of the same damn thing.

There was an anomaly in the landscape to the immediate right of the mound. I dug my fingers into the ground, hoping to find the ring. Maybe I deserved it after all.

Why was it that it seemed like my life had fallen to pieces? My parents were doing well, and I certainly could've scraped along had I motivated myself in some way. And yet, when my best friend left my side, it felt as if she had taken a veil from my eyes along with her. What did I have, really? A cheap house that wasn't even my own? No job, no boyfriend, no other real friends? It was hardly a source of pride...or happiness.

My fingers were into the ground up to the knuckles when I heard a loudspeaker booming behind me.

"GRAVEROBBER ON SITE. APPREHEND IMMEDIATELY. GRAVEROBBER ON SITE. APPREHEND IMMEDIATELY..."

My heart stopped when I heard the growl of a Gencop ordering me up. I spun around just to get a swift blow to my head with the butt of a gun. I fell back to the ground, dazed. I only caught of glimpse of the patrol of Gencops who had seemingly materialized out of thin air before another club to the head knocked me unconscious.

I came to sometime later. Hours could have passed, or maybe minutes. My first thought was that I had awoken in a fog. The walls were grey, the floor was grey, and the only thing that broke the solidness were the track lights casting a dim glow on the room. There was the fine outline of a door just visible in my periphery, but I couldn't even try to approach it—I was bound to my chair. Coarse ropes had been wrapped around my wrists and the chair arms, keeping me from fleeing.

The room had the oppressive feel of an interrogation room, and the thought was a cold spike to my heart. With Luigi in charge of the law, no interrogation method could be pleasant. I had to fight the tears from coming as the panic began to well. The hot ball of worry roiled and throbbed in my chest, searing when the door gave the faintest of creaks.

To my utmost terror, in walked Luigi himself. An ugly grin carved his twisted features. There was a poorly-concealed knife held behind his back, and he turned ever so slightly to leave me with an intentional glimpse of what was in store. A scream was boiling in my throat, but I fought to restrain it. I had the sick feeling that Luigi would derive too much pleasure from my cries. Already his excitement was palpable. His knife arm twitched, ready for any reason to dispose of me.

"So, lookin' for some Zydrate, were we?" he snarled, his menacing voice at odds with his considerable smile. "Well, guess what, sister—it's fuckin' illegal! It makes you a fuckin' thief! And you know what we do with thieves?" He brandished the blade, a ten-inch kitchen knife, polished and sharpened to absolute lethality.

"I—I wasn't—it was my aunt's—" The gasps wracking my chest were making it impossible to talk. And somehow, I knew that even the most concrete of excuses would not save me then. From what I had heard, Luigi was not the brother known for rational decisions. Anyone who grinned so largely at imminent murder was certainly not the type to spare a life because of a victim's innocence.

"Oh, so just because it's your aunt's grave, you think it's okay? You think it's fucking okay?!" His voice was rising in volume, and the knife was swishing dangerously close to my chest with his frantic gesticulation. He leaned close, his face inches from mine. "I'm gonna enjoy this one," he spat. I could feel flecks of his saliva hit my face. I was a little surprised he wasn't foaming at the mouth like the rabid dog that he was.

He allowed me one last toothy smile, and I was reminded ludicrously of Pavi's mask. I couldn't believe I was thinking of him when I was inches from death. What about my mother? My father? Would they know where I had gone, or how I had died? What about Lana? Would she even care? She would probably be glad that I had been murdered at the hands of GeneCo. It would be just repayment in her eyes.

Luigi was withdrawing his arm, prepared for a full-swing stab, when the door creaked open once more. It was the motion picture interruption I needed.

"Pa—" I began, crazily sure that he was stepping in to save the day. However, it was Amber that entered the room. My heart fell.

Amber Sweet adjusted her bathrobe. Her darkly-lidded eyes were clear for once—her system was Zydrate-free at the moment. She cast a bored look at Luigi. "What's the problem this time?" she asked, disinterested.

"Grave robber again," he replied with a cackle. "Gotta catch some of 'em sometime, right?" He moved behind my chair and pressed the knife to my throat. "What do you say, sister? Dispose of it?"

Amber finally looked my way. To my surprise, I could see recognition blooming behind her eyes. It had me stumped. I had never met her in my life, but she was looking at me as if I was another sibling that had disappeared years ago.

She approached my chair and brought her face to mine as Luigi had done just moments ago. A small smirk curled her painted lips. She straightened and set a hand on the one Luigi had clamped around the blade.

"She's the one," she murmured to her brother in her most soothing voice. "Let her go. He wouldn't like if it you murdered her."

"Fuck him! This little bitch was caught robbing a grave and I'll fucking kill her for it!" However, I felt the knife being pulled away from my throat. I exhaled with relief. My escape from this hellhole seemed imminent.

At that moment, Amber lost her patience. Her trademark attitude began to shine through. "Shut the fuck up! I'm the manager of this company, you will fucking listen to me when I tell you what to do!"

Her screech had finally silenced his sputtered complaints. Luigi used the knife to cut free my restraints instead. Flexing my hands and rubbing comfort into my wrists, I stood to face Amber. Though she had just saved my life, her aura of haughtiness was evident in the look she gave me.

"Follow me," she instructed. Her voice had returned to its arrogant, bored rhythm. The hem of her bathrobe fluttered as she turned in place and exited the room. Obediently, I followed, making sure to stay back a few steps. Her shirtless bodyguards joined her side from their stations right outside the door.

I had a vague idea as to where we were headed, but I didn't dare solidify the thought lest it be true.

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-to be continued-