Remy's POV:

We were walking on the lonely road towards the hospital in silence. The sky was dreary as usual, and there was a light drizzle. Not a lot had been said since we left, which was what I expected. My hood was pulled up and I kept my head down. In the unlikely event that ma or Joseph might see me, I would have a whole damn lot of explaining to do.

The familiar trees brought me back to when I was once running through them, begging them to hide me from a kidnapper. I felt I owed them a lot, even if they were just bark and leaves. They had been more decent to me than most humans had.

Peter had his hood down, exposing his messed hair and tired face. I peeked and saw that the bags under his eyes were enormous and very distinctive. It was almost as if they were engraved, and part of his facial features. And here I was, confusing him and dragging him everywhere with me. I should have insisted he stayed home and let me go alone. But I knew that never would've happened. Raybha told him before we left to take care of me, and, I quote, to "Keep her safe."

So I guessed my little roadside incident didn't stay under wraps. But I was too tired and too miserable to even dredge up the faintest hint of an angry thought on the matter. Then I wondered with guilt how tired Peter was, and when the last time was when he got a good night's sleep.

In other words, my own personal traits were in a mess.

But Peter looked so exhausted and sad I barely noticed.

"Peter, we'll go back soon", I said, worried. "As soon as we get the words we're gone. When we get back, you need to go to bed for as long as you want. Raybha and me will sort out the words."

He didn't answer, just shook his head. I didn't expect much more.

So we kept walking in our own endless purgatory, along a winding road that never seemed to end. No cars went by. I didn't know what day it was, but I knew the first week was nearly over. Yet nothing had been found. No sword and, at this rate, hardly any hope. The words were our last chance, our last glimmer of hope.

Suddenly a lot of noise appeared and I looked up. We were just down the road from the hospital and the street was a lot busier. Ambulances were scattered around a preserved parking space, lights flashing. Cars were entering the car park continuously. Children were being pulled out on stretchers followed by worried parents, and elderly people were leaving the doors in casts and wheelchairs. It seemed the hospital was having a full house that day. This area was haunted for me, but I tried not to pay any attention to it. I'd have time to wallow in my own sorrows later.

It seemed like only seconds later when we were at the park gate. As if it were a tradition, Peter held it open for me. I nodded at him thankfully but he didn't notice. He was staring at the hospital, watching the busy civilians bustle around unaware of him or me.

A graffiti artist had been busy – but in a good way. On the ground was a sprayed on hopscotch up to ten, the squares done in red but the numbers in white. On the ground near the swings were pictures of things like the sun with a smile, and something that looked like a teletubby. There was also another picture that was clearly carefully done. Small stick children that were holding hands, all in different colours. They kept going and going until they formed a perfect circle. In the middle of them was the word 'love' in capital letters. The artists tag was left beside the word, some sort of symbol I couldn't make out.

To me it was a good example. Not every person with a can of spray paint was a delinquent.

I looked at the bench – but it had been left untouched. I was grateful. I strode up towards it, yet when my knees were touching off the wood, I didn't know what to do. I looked at Peter beside me.

"Now what?"

He shrugged. "Look around it, maybe?"

We did, but the ground was as clean as a whistle.

I frowned. "Maybe we should look at it instead."

We did. I inspected the iron legs and armrests thoroughly for intricate words or some sort of clue, while Peter scanned the back, seat and under the seat. We then both did a double check over each other's designated search spots just to be sure, but nothing turned up.

I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"What do we do?!" I flustered. "What now?! We can't go back without them! I told Raybha I knew where they were! I thought I knew! Everything is counting on this! Peter, I'm so sorry! I've made everything worse, getting your hopes up!"

I was sure I was going to cry when Peter suddenly took me by the shoulders and sat me down on the bench, sitting beside me and then telling me to take deep breaths. I did as he asked but then I was shaky. My body wouldn't listen to my desperate mental plea to calm down and I was shaking erratically. I wasn't even cold but Peter mistook my condition and awkwardly put an arm around me, which made me shudder even more. He took it off again and I felt terrible. I cursed myself profusely but eventually I was still, trying to concentrate on the sound of the drizzle pattering off of the ground.

Square one, I thought. Funnily enough that didn't help.

"So...the words aren't here," he said. "We've confirmed that now. At least we still have the clue, though. I thought you were right…I thought this was where your story began. With me."

He sounded almost disappointed. And it was obviously very apparent because I was putting nearly all of my concentration into not throwing up because my stomach was heaving from the thought of such a setback.

I couldn't talk so just nodded.

He sighed. "So where did it begin? Where did you begin, Remy? Where were you when something big happened that changed everything, maybe? Who were you with?"

He would have been a good psychiatrist. His voice was so convincing, so there. So believing. So confident in me, even when I wasn't.

At first I was totally positive that Peter was the person who had changed my life forever, who had written the first important chapter in my life. And yes, the park and the bench were places of huge significance to the both of us. But I never would have been in the park if I wasn't in the hospital across the road from it. And I never would have been in the hospital if it weren't for…

Of course. How could I have missed it?

Martina.