Those pancakes are so good, it's almost like I had forgotten they existed around here. I'm so happy that Joyce still considers me a good person, after everything that's gone down in the Bay. It is still a little frightening to see the extent of the destruction, though that much was expected of a huge tornado never before seen. Somehow, I think that tornado was more than just that. There has to be some kind of explanation to it, because no matter what I did, the result remained the same. I know you went on about chaos theory, but even that didn't matter in the end.

For now, however, I had a story to tell Joyce. She was willing to give her time to listen, so I might as well deliver on it. Despite how sad I truly am inside, I can't help but feel some hope after being in the presence of this woman. I bet she's like a lighthouse to so many of us, and that I will never be thankful enough for.

"Well, it all began the night of the Vortex Club party, Chloe and I were so close to finding Nathan Prescott when... I was drugged, and Chloe, she..." It was a vivid recollection, I tried to warn her, and yet- I had to focus. This was no time for grieving at all. As though I forced the sadness down into my gut, my face feels like it wants to be torn off with how much I'm suppressing right now. "... Shot between the eyes. Joyce, Chloe might be dead. Though, I assure you, she... There's a way to bring her back, and I'm working on it right now." Yeah right. I had this knack for trying to give false hope, and I'm sure she could see it clearly right now.

Joyce was shocked, to say the least, but she wasn't as shocked as me. She didn't wail, or weep, or anything. It made my experience feel... Dampened? I wasn't sure, but she nodded, and rubbed her brow. I'm sure she thought I was crazy right now. "Who shot her, Max?" I give a huff, but avert my gaze.

"Mark Jefferson, aka, Mr. Jefferson. I can't say I saw him coming, but... He was the reason why Kate finally had enough of this world. I can't blame her, he is a sickening monster." Ah, yes, my lover's supposed killer. I still remember it all, not a detail left out. There are still times where I go into an absolute rage over the thought of him, I know I've broken many a thing already broken before all of this. "He was the one who took me to the Dark Room, a bunker not too far from here, actually. It was like he and the Prescotts knew this storm was coming."

I certainly had my theories about it, but this couldn't just be for show. This bunker costed millions of dollars, and yet, only now it comes into play? Sure, it is the Dark Room, but I think there's something bigger going on here. For a moment, I'm distracted, and I just begin to think about it. What if they really did know the storm was coming? Was there someone else who saw what I did? There's so many questions, and they just make even more when trying to answer them. I can tell this is going to be a long week indeed.

"I'm not sure where he is nowadays, all I know is... The Dark Room is a place I never want to be within again-"

"Even if it holds the one clue to finding Chloe?" Joyce's interruption caught me off-guard, though admittedly, I probably would go in there for that; only for that. With a nod, she knows my answer.

"Anyways..."

I begin telling her of the happenings within the Dark Room. It was all so horrible to describe, but I knew had to do it for her sake. I wasn't the only one hurting and suffering right now, and I had to make sure she was okay as well. Heck... I've probably been selfish all this time, not comforting her as she does me. Trying to shake the thought, I wave a dismissive hand. Admittedly, I'm not even sure why I'm leaving out half of the details; though perhaps it is better left unsaid.

"For now, I know that Nathan is dead, I... Saw the body with my own eyes. Wasn't pretty," I let out a long sigh, but continue on. "He had an interesting note on him, from his father to him. It speaks of how he despised his son, and that he needed a new successor to whatever shady shit he was getting in to. I tore it up soon after, but I'm sure it wasn't important." Joyce looks at me with a steely gaze, as though I had done something very wrong. Maybe she does think I'm crazy, and-

"Max... I think you're heading down a road you don't want to. I suggest that... You think this through a little- I-I mean, it isn't as though I didn't love my own daughter, but-" I slam my hand on the table, standing straight up.

"You've got to be kidding me. You of all people!" A mixture of anger and disappointment brewed in my chest, and I knew it was extremely fucking volatile. Joyce also stands, but in a much calmer manner to myself. This can't be happening, those words, from your mother's mouth? I couldn't believe it for a second.

"Max, from what you've described, Chloe is probably dead! What are you going to do, magically whip up a way to get her back?! Come on... Don't do that to yourself. You'll only find despair down a road like this-" She was clearly speaking from experience. Oh fuck. How could I be so insensitive? William... I'm sure she searched for him, even though he was very much dead that day onward. And yet, even when I had gone back to stop it, it only brought misery to them all; you included. "Get a grip, Max! Don't do what I did..."

"Joyce, I... I can't let this go. I can't. Chloe, she... She means more than the world to me. You all do but she has that special place within me, you know?! I'm sure William did too, but... I have a way to do this. I just need you to believe in me; have faith in me. Please, at least do that for me..." I place my hand on my chest, trying to make her see my feelings, my views, my ways. Yet, all Joyce does is begin to walk off. I'm devastated, but... My words, they just weren't right. Do I even bother trying to botch that up? I know I can just rewind a bit- but I promised myself not to rely on it so much as I did on that fucked up week. I have to pace myself.

I leave the Two Whales and begin heading over to where Blackwell is, well... Was. So much has changed since the storm, it still astonishes me to this day. Only a handful of buildings are left, including the swimming centre- but even that has the roof caved in, and several things wrong with it. As I begin to collect my thoughts, I wonder just what I could do to even begin saving you. I know the past needed to be altered, else the future I walk in now, it will crush me under its weight, its very implication for existence.

Suddenly, there's the sound of an explosion, and it's within the swimming centre. Spurred on by the need to find information about your whereabouts, I rush toward the large building which may hold answers for me. I have to say, I'm not expecting much... But even a crumb trail is enough for me.

I'm drawn to the explosion like a moth to flames. I swear, if this is somehow related to you, then I'll know this is all real. Oh, Chloe, I need to find you...