chapter two

'There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.' ~ The Boscombe Valley Mystery

Though it was cliche and unlikely to occur, Odile woke up on a street corner in the middle of a storm.

There was a loud sound, like someone cracking a whip, and she gasped as her eyes flew open. She knew she was lying on something hard and cold. The world was bathed in gray, the sky rumbling as if it had been starved for too long. She sat up, blinking, her mind completely blank, except for one thought: This rain feels really nice. Rain was always nice. Water was so calming. She used to go swimming a lot as a kid. And even after she stopped, she would often lie in the bathtub for hours, thinking.

She stood up slowly, her head feeling heavier than it ever had. She felt like she was filled with lead, and she looked around dazedly, wondering why everything looked so dull and lifeless.

A streetlamp flickered to life, offering a spark of fire to the otherwise desolate atmosphere.

All previous memories of what had happened raced back to her in a flash, and she stumbled.

Her throat had been slit.

The wind picked up and blew her hair around her face.

She had bled to death. There was no way she could have survived that.

Her hands clawed at her neck, and she was surprised to find the skin was held together, though it felt different from the rest of her skin.

Was she scarred?

Another clap of thunder erupted, and she nearly jumped.

Where am I?

Immediately, her heart started racing, and she did a quick check of her body. Doesn't look like I've been touched or raped while unconscious. Thank god. But ... if I was killed, then ... is this heaven?

She looked around and wrinkled her nose. "Kind of a lame setup, God."

A car raced past, its wheels splashing water all over her already-shivering form. She muttered another curse inside her head. Not heaven. God is a social construct designed to provide comfort. Plus, I don't see any rivers of honey. And I'm not burning. So not hell.

Which meant she was alive. And someone – someone – had carried her here. But it didn't make any sense. Her mind went into overdrive, the gears whirling, as she tried to analyze her current predicament. The skin appeared to be scarred heavily, but it had stopped bleeding, around her neck. Which meant that she had been unconscious for ... what, at least a few weeks? And it also meant that someone had gotten to her quick enough to stop the bleeding and save her life. She doubted Greg Carlyle had done so. And Eleanor had fled the scene. But what kind of asshole just left an injured girl on a wet street corner?

It didn't make any sense.

Okay, she thought, taking a deep breath. Okay. First order of business: find out where you are. Find a bus. Find a place to stay. Wait, no. Place to stay. Then food. Then bus. Action!

Odile set out on her quest, but soon came to the realization that the town was dreadfully ... empty. Even after walking for a good ten minutes or so, she wasn't able to find a single human being. Hell, even the shops looked closed. Is it a holiday? But there's no celebratory signs out... Even the car that she had seen earlier was nowhere to be found.

She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and tried to dial 911. When she brought the phone to her ear, however, she was disappointed to find nothing but a taunting beep-beep-beep. She shut it off with a sigh and tucked it away. "Alright ... no reception."

Oof!

Something slammed into her, hard, nearly sending her toppling. She caught herself in time, whipping around. There was a small, shaking man in front of her, looking no older than eighteen. He yelped, bowing slightly. "I-I'm so sorry, ma'am! It was an accident! I didn't mean to—please forgive me!" In his arms were a large amount of bags, filled with what looked like wrapped packages of some sort.

"Woah, woah." She raised her hands, stepping back. "It's fine."

"Cerin! Why the hell have you stopped?"

The pale boy grew even whiter, and he gulped, turning around tentatively. "Please, sir, I just—"

"No excuses." Around the corner came a tall, thin man. He had a hooked nose and practically no eyebrows, but an otherwise handsome face. But it was weighted down with a heavy glower, which was currently directed at the shaking Cerin. "I've told you, I have a meeting. You know, my last secretary was fired for his tardiness." He smiled a cold, sleazy smile. "You don't want to suffer the same fate, do you? After all, you have your sister to think about."

"No, sir, of course not, sir!" He shook his head, tightening his grip on the bags in hands. "I was simply—"

"We do not apologize to street rats, Cerin." The man turned his nose up at Odile.

Street rat?! She immediately gaped, feeling a tad bit like Aladdin. "Uh, I'm not homeless."

"I've never seen you around here before. And I know everyone."

"With all due respect, you obviously don't know everyone since I'm a new face."

His eyes narrowed, and she could practically feel the disgust coming off of him in waves. "Name."

"Odile."

"Well, Odile," he drawled, smiling another cold smile. "Welcome to Arno. I hope you won't be staying long."

...Huh? "Arno? Is that any close to Gellbea?"

"Gellbea?" He laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "Never heard of it!"

Damnit. So I'm far. "Uh, alright. Is it in the North Region?"

This time, he simply gave her a confused, skeptical look.

I'm very far. "Is it in Ontario?"

More confusion.

She sighed, digging into her pocket and coming up with a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. "Here. I'll give you this if you give me information." Perhaps bribery would work?

The man scrutinized the green piece of paper, amusement only growing on his face. "Ma'am, here in Arno, we have fantastic medical assistance for those with mental impairments."

"I'm not stupid!" she hissed. "It was a question."

"I'm not suggesting stupid. I'm suggesting..." He broke off, smirking, and twirled one finger near his head.

Cerin forced a laugh. "You're very clever, sir...!"

"Forget it," Odile muttered. "Good day." I hope you fall into a pit and break all of your limbs. And then dogs can climb down and eat you alive. She turned on her heel and stalked off, ignoring the sounds of the man's laughter. The first people she had met in this town, and they'd both turned out to be utterly useless. But one thing was for sure: she was far. Extremely far. Hell, she'd never even heard of Arno! Her stomach fluttered with anxiety. She didn't have much money with her. How could she possibly travel so far? Maybe if she looked pitiful enough, a bus could offer her a free ride...

And that was when Miracle # 1 happened: beside a streetlamp, she found a very helpful item: a brown, leather wallet.

Without thinking, she scooped it up, looking around quickly. Nope. No one was around. Not even that creepy man and his servant boy. With great delight, she opened it up, digging through its contents. Aha! Money! There were at least a dozen bills in there, with six digit numbers stamped on. Whoever owned this wallet was rich. Strangely enough, the currency was yen. So ... she was in Japan? But that man from before had spoken in perfect English! She shook her head. She didn't have time to think it over right now. She needed a building to sit and think in before she could sort through the chaos of facts she had been presented with.

There was an ID card inside the wallet. That card was Miracle # 2.

Because the picture on that card was of the man from earlier. He had the same watery smile painted onto his face as he looked at the camera, and her own smile grew. Any previous doubts she'd had about stealing some innocent man's money faded. Karma is a bitch.

Besides. She had to live up to her new Aladdin-esque street rat reputation, right?

Of course, even with those two miracles, she couldn't help but be worried. There was a pit of anxiety sitting in her stomach, only growing as she turned unfamiliar turn after unfamiliar turn. She encountered some other human beings along the way, but they definitely didn't look up for conversation. The man from before had – at least – looked a bit lively. These people just looked kind of ... dead.

Still, she couldn't stop the web of tangled facts that was being spun in her mind with each new discovery she made. A town that used a Japanese currency but that spoke English and had English signs and didn't appear to be Japanese at all. Someone who had provided decent medical attention to her at the speed of light but that had still dumped her miles and miles away from home during the middle of a storm. The fact that she was alive was a surprise in itself. It was like the world was taunting her, throwing useless information at her and sitting back, like, Let's watch you try to solve this one.

Odile tried to calm her thoughts from whirling out of control. She knew that anxiety and panic was based off of irrationality and emotions, both of which would not help her in the slightest during this situation. She had to break things down, tackle everything one at a time, and put together the pieces of the puzzle one piece at a time. Only then would she be able to end up with a full picture.

Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains – no matter how improbable – must be the truth.

In a rare moment of courage, she stopped a woman who was pushing a stroller, and blurted, "Uh, excuse me."

The woman turned, looking surprised. "Yes?" she asked, surprisingly calm.

"Um. I was wondering ... is there a motel I can stay in? Or an inn? Or ... something?"

The lady was quiet for a moment, and Odile considered repeating her question, in case she hadn't heard her. But then she nodded, lifting a thin finger to point to a building down the sidewalk. "There's an inn there, at the end. Small place. But good hospitality. Though we don't have many tourists around." She shook her head, smiling a sad smile. "Ever since Melville Barnett showed up..."

"Melville Barnett? Who is he?" Ah! So this town has a corrupted leader of some sort! Now we're getting somewhere!

The woman's eyes widened, and she bit her lip. "I've said too much. Enjoy your stay." And she was off, practically running.

...Or not.

Regardless, she appreciated the information. The inn, despite being small and plain-looking, emitted a comfortable warmth, which was a welcome change from the windy cold outside. She pushed through the doors with excitement, and marched right up to the front desk.

"Hi," she breathed. "One room. Please."

The woman at the front desk looked nearly stunned for a moment, her eyes growing to the size of saucers. But then her face erupted into a brilliant smile, and she nodded eagerly. "Coming right up, Miss..."

"Odile."

"Right! How many nights?"

"Uh..." She dug into her pocket and pulled out one of the bills. "How many days will this cover?"

If possible, the lady looked even more shocked. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the money. "W-Wow! How did you ... get this much money?"

"Um." I stole it. "Rich parents."

"Why, I'm honored to be serving someone of such obvious prestige! That will get you at least a month's stay."

"A month?" Odile cleared her throat. "Well, ah, I don't intend to stay that long. Maybe two weeks. But here."

"Oh." The woman nodded, looking around awkwardly. "I'm sure I have some change here somewhere..."

"Keep it."

"...What?" She looked up, her mouth flapping open and closed like a fish. "Did you say—"

"Keep the change." She looked away from the woman's intense stare. "I've got ... a lot. Um. Yeah. Keep it."

The woman looked as if she'd been given the key to paradise itself. Odile wondered what kind of state this town was in, exactly, to have its citizens look so bleak and hopeless. Obviously, this woman wasn't used to customers, let alone gratitude.

"Thank you, thank you! Oh, I really do—"

"DONNA!"

The woman – Donna – squeaked, flinching. In through the door marched the same asshole that had picked on Odile earlier.

Whose wallet she had in her pocket.

She pulled her shirt lower over her jeans and tried to look innocent. But it was as if she was invisible. He stomped past her and up to the front desk, where he started screaming so loud, spit flew out of his mouth. Poor Donna looked almost faint.

"I know what you've done! Hand it over now, and the repercussions won't be as severe!"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Donna whimpered.

"You came over and dared to ask me for a raise for this pathetic little dump of yours? And then when I decline, you resort to thievery?"

"I haven't done anything of the sort, Mr. Barnett! Please! Believe me!"

Mr. Barnett...? The name that that other woman had mentioned earlier. So this was the tyrant? Melville Barnett? Resident asshole and town leader? She hadn't even bothered to read the name on his ID card earlier, and felt kind of imbecilic for not doing so. However, she was beginning to like him less and less.

"You do know what the punishment is for stealing, correct?"

Her voice rose to a hysteric shriek. "Please, sir, I haven't stolen anything from you!"

"You're lying! You have a bill in your hand! I know you can't afford that kind of money!"

"Actually," Odile interjected. "That was from me."

He paused, his gaze turning towards her, as if noticing her existence for the first time. "What did you say?"

"Me. I gave her the money. For a room to stay. Because ... this is an inn and I needed a place to stay." Damn my social skills. That came out a lot less threatening than I'd hoped.

"...And where, pray tell, did you get that money? You'd offered me that green currency beforehand. And, yet, now you manage to gain this?"

"Uh, well, if you'd bothered to listen, you'd have understood that I'm the daughter of a nobleman."

"Really."

"Yes. From ... Russia."

"I've never heard of it."

She bit her tongue to keep from screaming. Did this guy drop out in the first grade?! How the hell hasn't heard of Russia?! "I'm very sorry to hear that. It's a lovely place. Ah, anyway, have you lost something, sir?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." He sniffed. "My wallet."

Oops.

"But it's no matter. I'm quite aware of who has it." He glared at Donna out of the corner of his eye, who looked ready to crumple and sob.

"Is it a brown wallet?" Odile blurted.

"..."

"Brown. Leather-y. Kind of small. Uh ... it's got a few pockets on the outside. A triangle seal?"

His eyes narrowed. "You're not saying..."

"I don't have it!" She waved her hands, laughing nervously. "But, um ... I know who does."

"Do you? Who?"

"...A girl. She's um ... tall. Blonde."

"What was she wearing? Where did you see her?"

"I saw her not too far from here, picking a wallet off the ground. Though I assumed it was hers."

He huffed, "Don't be so quick to make such an idiotic judgment next time!"

Fuck you. "Right, right."

"What was she wearing, this girl?"

"Um ... red sweater. And plain pants." She wasn't sure what would happen if a girl that matched her description was caught. So, for good measure, she added, "Though, just to be on the safe side, you'd probably have to bring her to me. You know. So I can confirm." She smiled cheerfully.

Melville's eyes looked over her, as if trying to analyze her motives. Odile tried to turn all of her charms on, smiling as bright as possible, hoping her hair wasn't frizzing and that her tiny stature would help her seem more innocent and child-like. Not at all like a teenage girl trying to manipulate a man into accidentally letting her keep his cash.

"You!" he barked at Donna. "What room is she staying in?"

"Ah, r-room 203, sir!"

"Very well. Any and all suspects that I catch will be brought to you for inspection. And if I catch that you're lying..."

Yeah, yeah, whatever. "I would never do something so morally disgusting." She batted her eyes.

He gave her one last skeptical look before stalking out the door. Donna exhaled the second he left, wiping sweat off her brow. "Oh, I can't thank you enough! He's had it in for me—er, for our entire town, really, since he's arrived. Barely pays us. Cuts off our tourist networks. It's been awful. But if you hadn't shown up, he'd have probably shut my inn down!"

"Oh. Yeah. No problem." Just your friendly neighborhood detective ... kind of. "So, what, the government doesn't care?"

"No one's had the guts to say anything, yet! He always puts on shows when they arrive for inspections, and he's got a talent for manipulating others! I'd be shocked if they thought he was guilty. Plus," she whispered, "people say he's got connections."

"Connections?"

"Yes! Anyone that double-crosses him will be killed! If not by him, then at someone else's hands! Here, we've all got family and friends ... we can't risk hurting anyone. It's a very challenging situation indeed!"

"Oh. Wow. Sorry."

"No, no, it's quite alright! We're hanging in. But are you okay, dear? You look very pale. And weak!"

"Yeah. I've traveled a long way."

"I bet! How does potatoes and lamb sound? I don't have much to serve, but—"

"It sounds perfect. Could you bring it up to my room?"

"Of course." She bowed slightly. "If you need anything, don't be afraid to give me a holler!"

"Sure." She waved quickly, practically trudging up the stairs. Despite her journey and fear, she didn't feel sleepy. More like ... curious? Worried? Perhaps those weren't the right words. She had never felt so confused and disoriented in her entire life. She always made it a point to know what to do and how to get out of situations. That was what she did. She planned things. She had crazy ideas. But she tackled them like puzzles, and managed to solve them in the end.

Sure, one had gotten her killed. But that was debatable, anyway. And right now? She had another puzzle on her hands.

The game has begun.

wow. so this came out a lot earlier than i'd expected, aha. i mean, i enjoyed writing the first chapter. and this one was fun, too. but it's a lot shorter. not sure if that's a bad thing or a good thing, but i hope you enjoy reading, regardless.

thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story! it means a lot; it really does. uh, if you ever have any questions or concerns, just drop me a review or a PM, and i'll tackle them to the best of my abilities.

until next time!