The next day, he decided to stay in the room rather than sit with Mercedes while she worked. She had several clients coming and going and it was easier to stay completely out of the he still couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding in his gut and over the years had learned his gut instincts tended not to lead him wrong.

He was sat on the floor looking through some of the pictures in one of her science books when suddenly she came in with a strange expression on her face.

"Do you believe in Karma?"

Weird question. "Karma?"

"Karma. It's a concept. The bible says that you reap what you sow. Some Sectors call it Karma, getting back what you gave. Do you believe that Sam?"

He thought back at his life. He'd done a hell of a lot of bad. But then a lot of bad had happened to him too. "It makes sense." He spoke quietly, the sense of foreboding completely consuming him at her words. Something bad was going to happen, he could feel it in his bones.

"Remember I asked you last night if you had ever killed anybody from this Sector?" Of course he remembered. It was the closest he had felt to remorse in a long time.

The next words to come out of her mouth were something he would never have expected. "His mother is here. She wasn't supposed to have come but I think she got her days mixed up. But maybe it's a sign after what we were talking about last night. So do you think you could look an old woman in the eye and confess to killing her son?"

He literally felt the blood drain from his face. "What? Why?"

"I think it would be good if you apologize. It would give you some peace."

There's no way she could be serious about this! His heart began to race. As a man he didn't feel fear but this was downright frightening! "Do I have to?"

"It's the right thing to do Sam. It'll make you feel better. Confession is good for the soul."

He had no soul.

"But what if she tells somebody?"

"She won't. She knows her son wasn't good. She hasn't spoken to him or about him for years. But she's still a mother. She deserves closure."

He could feel anger brewing in the pit of his stomach at his hands being forced by this girl. "So you just want me to go in and say 'hi, how are you doing? I think that dress really suits you, and by the way, I'm the man who killed your son'?"

He rolled his eyes at her sarcastically and she shot him a glare so deadly that it took his breath away. She wasn't joking and she wasn't about to be messed with. Not on this. She was deathly serious. Why was that?

He really didn't want to have to do this. There were so many things that could go horribly wrong for him if he did. What was to say that this woman wouldn't pull out a gun and shoot him out of vengeance? Were things really so innocently clear cut in this girl's head? She'd taken him in, a killer, hidden him in her bedroom and asked him to run away and find some mythical land with her. Why had it only taken him up until this point to realize that despite appearances, she was actually completely and utterly deranged? Perhaps he could just pretend to go along with this and humor her. Mercedes' level of morality and inane sense of right, wrong, good and bad was maddening but maybe he was going to have to play along until they parted ways in safety. He would have to assess the situation when he actually met the woman.

With a sigh he pretended to be resigned. "So what exactly are you expecting me to do?"

"Just go in, admit what you've done, tell her that you're sorry and wish for her forgiveness."

This girl was clearly insane! Was there going to be any reasoning with her? "It happened three years ago Mercedes! Why should I have to do it now?"

"Sam, I thought you were a good person!"

"I am!"

"So prove it!"

"But why like this?" Their argument was a harsh exchange of whispers which somehow felt even more heated than if they'd actually been shouting at each other.

She stared at him hard. "If you're a real man, you won't be afraid to stand up and admit you were wrong. You can't bring him back but you can make peace."

Why did she have to go and say that? Insulting his manhood was the worst thing a girl like her could possibly do to him. Besides, peace was what he'd always craved. Peace and freedom from his demons, his nightmares and his darkness. She stared straight into his eyes and he could feel that dangerous stickiness starting to pull him in again. Maybe she had some kind of evil hold on him. He wasn't sure, but whatever it was, she seemed to just be able to look him right in the eye and he'd become hypnotized. It was just like the first moment he saw her, when his brain screamed for him to pull the trigger while his arm had lowered itself of its own accord.

Now it was happening all over again. He could hear himself agreeing even though inside his head he was resisting her at every turn. This was the stupidest and most dangerous idea in the world and the only the only way it could possibly go would be horribly wrong! Nothing good ever came out of walking up to someone and telling them you'd killed their child. Yet suddenly his hand was inside hers and she was leading him through the house towards a fate worse than death.

Still questioning why the hell he was doing this, he followed her through into the reasonably large living room. Mercedes' fabrics and sewing machine were on the table as usual and a bespectacled old woman with thinning white hair and sun wrinkled skin was sat in the in the soft comfy chair. She was tiny and looked frail and he suddenly wondered what the hell he'd been nervous about.

"Auntie? Auntie, I've found someone who has something to say to you."

The old woman looked at Mercedes as if she barely even recognized who she was. "I'm sorry dear?"

"This man. He needs to speak to you about something important. He needs to ask your forgiveness for something." She gave him a little shove and he stepped before the old woman. This was going to be easier than he thought. She was old and probably already starting to suffer from some degree of dementia which explained why she had turned up on the wrong day. He wasn't entirely sure her hearing was the sharpest either.

"Do you have a name son?"

He shook his head. "No."

At this point he didn't. He couldn't give her his real name, but at the same time he was not prepared to taint the clean slate that was Sam Smith. Sam was an idea that over the last few days he'd seriously warmed to. Mercedes liked Sam and he wanted to keep it that way. Hell, even he liked Sam too!

The lack of a name didn't seem to fluster her and she beckoned him closer, pushing her glasses further up her nose, clearly trying to get a good look at him. She reached out her hands to him and he shot a look towards Mercedes who simply nodded. Accepting her encouragement he stepped forward and took the woman's hand in both of his before kneeling in front of her.

"Look at me son."

He didn't want to but he did, confused as to why she would refer to someone from another Sector as son. Raising his head he noticed she had those same entrancing eyes as Mercedes but with less of the warmth. When Mercedes looked at him she seemed to pierce his soul but this woman was slightly more dead behind the eyes. He put it down to her age which had caused a slight milkiness to her eyes and a weakening mental state.

"What is it that you want to tell me?"

"It's about Michael."

She instantly stiffened and stared hard at him. "What do you want from me?"

He looked at her and saw a frail old woman. A mother who had lost her child. It may have been a wayward child but a child nonetheless. Somehow it made this easier. "I want forgiveness."

She pulled his head and rested it on her lap, stroking and playing with his hair gently. He looked over at Mercedes who smiled back at him with an expression of relief. It didn't occur to him until that point that even she had been unsure as to what the outcome of this meeting might be and was glad that things turned out well. It was all going to be okay.

"Guys, I'm going to get us a drink. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

That couple of minutes was three and a half to be precise. If she'd stretched it to four he would probably have been dead. As it was, there was a good chance that his nose was broken, as well as the fact that his lip was split, the wound on his side was now open and bleeding again and he had at least one bruised or possibly cracked rib.

He didn't understand what happened. One moment the old lady was stroking his head and he was basking like a child in the unfamiliar warmth of love and forgiveness, the next, her knee had come up to his face and he'd been sent reeling! This tiny frail old woman had picked up a chair and beaten him with it, breaking one of the legs on it in the process. And he had taken every blow. It's not like he could hit an old woman back. And it's not like he hadn't killed her son in cold blood, slimy piece of shit or not.

But she somehow she had flipped and suddenly gained some superhuman strength, all the while chanting in a low voice: 'You killed my baby boy!'

Then, as suddenly as she had started, she stopped, lowering the chair that was held high above her head and, appearing confused for a few seconds, leaving him to wonder if she really was actually suffering from some form of dementia. But then she'd straightened and looked straight at him, her eyes clear as day. "My son was not a good man. I accept that, but nobody gave you the right to take life. I mourned my son after he disappeared and I dealt with it, accepting that it was the life he chose that took him away from me. But it wasn't. It was you! A lowly spirit! I can't hate you and I'd already forgiven you before I met you, but that doesn't mean that I can't make you feel pain. Any pain you feel is a fraction of what I felt. That being said, I have to thank you for looking me in the eye and asking forgiveness. I'll never like you but I will respect you for that."

With those words she offered her hand and he had no choice but to take it and allow her to pull him up. That was the precise moment that Mercedes returned to ask if they wanted sugar in their coffee. He heard her gasp at the sight of his injuries, nearly dropping the tray in shock. She automatically went to help him but the old woman shook her head. He had this coming. There would be no help for him, but neither would there be any hard feelings. As he painfully made his way to his feet she spoke one last time. "I never want to see you again."

"I know. You won't." His mouth was already starting to swell and the pain was excruciating but he held his head up with dignity. Without looking at Mercedes he walked past her and hobbled back to the bedroom.

By the time she joined him there he'd cleaned himself up and was applying antiseptic to the cuts on his face.

Mercedes looked devastated. "I'm sorry. I had no idea she would do that as soon as my back was turned! I didn't even know she was that strong! And she… she made me promise not to help you."

"I know she would. I wouldn't expect anything less. This is my… what was that word you used? Karma! This was my karma. I have to deal with it. I have to live with it. I did kill her son." He replaced the cap on the antiseptic. "I was just doing my job when I killed those men, but I never gave a thought to those left behind and the pain that they might feel. I should have known, I was left behind myself, but I was numb. It's important for me to feel the pain right now." Somehow, although the entire situation was entirely fucked up, he felt that he was actually learning an important lesson. Considering he'd shot the man who killed his family, a few bruises was getting off lightly!

Mercedes nodded slowly. Looking at him in pain she knew that he just wanted to lie down but embarrassingly she had something she needed to ask first now that the woman had gone. "Before you rest would you be able to-"

He knew what was coming. "I'll fix the chair before your dad gets back, don't worry."

She looked as if she was fighting back tears at the whole situation that she'd unwittingly created. "And do you think she'll say anything… you know, about you being here? I'm so sorry I introduced you. For a moment I forgot you were in hiding. I didn't mean to put you in jeopardy!" She looked like a confused child who knew she'd done something wrong but couldn't fully comprehend what it was.

He was surprised at himself when he realized that he wasn't even mad at her for this. He'd been angrier at her before the event rather than after and he was quick to reassure. "She won't. She's made her own peace already. She knows what her son was and it's all history now, for both of us. Think of it as closure."

Strangely enough, he genuinely did feel a sense of calm after the event. The hardest part for him was seeing poor Mercedes struggling with the unexpected turn of events. It was a huge blow to her innocent naivety.

But it was also a lesson she needed to learn.