Most children dreaded the idea of going to school, but for Sally, it was a comforting escape from her gloomy and boring life at her uncle's apartment. There, she had other children she could play with and talk to. During recess, Sally went to play with her best friend, a black girl named Bailey Glover, on the playground. At one point, she looked over at the chain link fence and noticed a group of tattooed adults walk by. Judging by the markings on their arms, and on the torso of one of the men who was shirtless, Sally recognized they were a gang of racists. Uncle Mark had told her about them before, and if there was anything he despised besides murders, it was racists. Because of the disrespectful attitude creatures like them showed towards people of a different color, Sally was told never to talk to racists, for they were an undesirable bunch themselves, all because they didn't like people with a different skin tone. No matter what color people were on the outside, we were all the same color on the inside.

Sally agreed with her uncle's views and promised him to never talk to people who were racist, though she couldn't help but take a second look at the dark-haired man, thinking she had seen him somewhere before. Sure enough, it was the same man she saw on the news that morning, the one who had just been released from prison. Sally didn't know exactly what the man had been in prison for, mainly because she changed the channel before the announcer mentioned why, but whatever it was, it must have been pretty bad. She thought she had seen him somewhere else a long time ago, but she couldn't remember. Feeling scared that he was up to no good or that he and the gang would try to hurt her or her friends, Sally went down the slide and ran over to tell a teacher about the strangers she saw standing over by the fence, but when the teacher looked over towards where the child claimed to have seen them, the dark-haired man and the racist gang were gone. Looking concerned, the teacher said that she would give Sally's uncle a call later.

Later, when she came home from school, Sally walked into the apartment building and took the elevator up to the ninth floor, then she got off and went to her uncle's apartment and took off her backpack to look for her key, which was located at the bottom. She unlocked the door and went inside, locking the door behind her before she went to the living room and picked up the telephone sitting on the side table, which was on the left side of the couch, and tried calling her uncle's cellphone number, but received only a voicemail. "Hello, you've reached Detective Mark Hoffman. I'm unavailable to answer your call right now, but if you leave me your name and phone number, I'll get back to you soon as I can."

"Hi, Uncle Mark. It's Sally", the little girl spoke into the phone. "I just wanted to let you know I got home from school okay. I'll talk to you later. I love you. Bye." Once she hung up the phone, Sally sat down on the couch and picked up the remote to turn on the TV, switching the channels to see what was on until she stumbled onto the news channel, watching a man about to give a special report about the ongoing case of the most notorious murderer in the city - The Jigsaw Killer.

Sally stared at the screen as she listened to the latest story about the infamous killer, whose recent victim was a young man named David, who worked as an orderly at a hospital. The young man survived his terrifying ordeal, but had no memory of who abducted him or how he found himself in a dark room with a torturous device strapped to his head that threatened to rip his mouth permanently open. Sally didn't know who the Jigsaw Killer was, but she wished her uncle found him soon, so that no more innocent people would get hurt or die. When she spoke to Uncle Mark that morning, he brought up mention of a "bad man", which made the child wonder if the "bad man" he spoke about was, indeed, the Jigsaw Killer. She would ask him later when he came home from work. Until then, Sally decided to stop watching the news and picked up the remote to change the channel and find something more pleasant to watch.

Two hours later, Sally grew bored of watching the television and turned it off before she went to play in her bedroom, instead. Later on, when it started to get dark outside, Sally heard someone open the front door and lifted her head, listening to the door close behind the person who just walked into the apartment. Jumping off her bed, the child went over to open the door to her bedroom just a little bit.

"Uncle Mark?" Sally asked out loud.

"Yeah, it's me", the voice of the detective confirmed.

Relieved that it was only her uncle, Sally opened the door all the way and walked out into the hall and started heading towards the living room. Once she reached the kitchen, Sally peeked inside and saw her uncle's back was turned as he started pulling items out from a brown paper bag he had set on the counter. Mark hummed to himself as he focused on his task, unaware that the seven-year-old was watching him, but then the detective sensed the girl's presence behind him and stopped what he was doing to turned his head and look over his left shoulder at Sally, who ducked away out of sight.

"I know you're there, Sal", said Mark. "You don't have to hide from me."

Sally stepped back into view and went over to stand next to her uncle.

"How was school?" Mark asked.

The child shrugged. "It was okay", she answered.

"Any problems?"

"Nope."

"Good." Mark went back to finishing putting things away in the kitchen, taking out a box of Kleenex from the bag and handing it to Sally. "Go put this in the bathroom for me, would you, honey?"

"Okay", said Sally, taking it from him and turning around to walk out of the kitchen.

"Dinner will be ready in half an hour", Mark informed.

Later that evening, Mark and Sally sat down at the table and tried a chicken pasta dish from a recipe the detective had gotten from a colleague at work. He wasn't exactly the world's greatest chef, but at least he tried to make good, healthy meals for himself and his niece. The little girl liked most of the foods her uncle prepared for the two of them and rarely complained about anything he made, as long as there was dessert afterwards.

"Guess what?" Mark mentioned, speaking first after a long period of silence during the meal.

"What?" Sally asked.

"I saw a car crash on my way to work this morning", said Mark. "A man went flying out through the front window because he wasn't wearing a seatbelt."

"That's not good."

"Well, that's what happens when you don't obey the law."

"Was he dead?"

"I don't know. I didn't stop to check."

"Next time, he should glue himself to his seat", The little girl suggested. "That way he won't go flying out the window."

"Yeah, maybe", said Mark, humoring his niece, but thinking the idea itself was ridiculous.

While she fed herself another bite of pasta and shredded chicken meat, a thought entered Sally's mind, and she found herself asking, "Uncle Mark, who's the Jigsaw Killer?"

Mark looked at her, a questioning look in his eyes. "Where did you hear about that?" The detective asked.

Normally, Sally didn't lie to her uncle, knowing that it was wrong, but just this once, she decided to fabricate the truth. "I heard a kid talk about him at school", the child claimed.

"You tell those kids they shouldn't be talking about killers and psychopaths", said Mark. "Your uncle's department will catch him soon enough."

"But what about-"

"Enough!" Mark exclaimed impatiently, trying not to raise his voice at her. "I don't want to talk about it, all right? You shouldn't even be asking me about the Jigsaw Killer. He's a dangerous man and that's all you need to know, so just drop it."

Discouraged, Sally focused her attention back on her plate and refrained from talking throughout the rest of their meal. Mark felt a bit guilty about snapping at his niece when she was only trying to ask him a simple, but innocent question, and hoped he could make it up to Sally with what he had planned out for her once she finished her dinner.

Near the end of the meal, Mark picked up his napkin and used it to wipe his mouth before speaking again. "Hey, Sal, do you know what today is?" The detective asked.

Sally looked at her uncle, uncertainly. "May 7th?"

"Yeah, but what's special about it?"

Sally shrugged her shoulders, having no idea of the significance he was hinting at.

"You don't know? Well, I'll tell you. Seven years ago today, I drove your mother to the hospital. When we got there, the doctors took her into a room, and I sat down by her bedside and held her hand while she pushed you out and brought you into the world to be part of our family."

"You mean it's my birthday?"

Mark nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Do I get a present?" Sally asked, smiling faintly.

"Better than that", Mark answered, pushing his chair back as he stood up and gathered his and Sally's plates and went to put them in the sink. "Do me a favor and cover your eyes", he instructed.

"What for?" Sally questioned.

"You'll see. Now, cover your eyes or you won't get it."

The little girl closed her eyes and quickly covered them with both hands. Mark looked over his left shoulder to make sure she wasn't peeking before he opened the fridge and took out a pink box, placing it on the counter to carefully remove something out from it, then returned to the table with his niece's special surprise and placed it in front of her before reclaiming his seat.

"Okay. You can open your eyes now", said Mark.

Lowering her hands to see what her uncle had brought to her, the little girl opened her eyes and gasped at the pink-frosted cake that had the words 'Happy Birthday, Sally' written in white icing on top.

"No way!" Sally exclaimed. The child looked to her left and jumped out of her chair as she went to give the detective a hug. "Thank you, Uncle Mark", she said.

"You're welcome", said Mark, releasing her.

"Can we light the candles now?" Sally asked.

Hearing this, Mark lost his smile and closed his eyes, showing a pained expression as he raised a hand to his forehead, as though he were suffering from another one of his famous headaches. "Ah, damn it", he bemoaned.

Sally frowned, looking worried, and not just because her uncle cursed in front of her. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Lowering his hand, Mark opened his eyes and looked at her again. "I'm sorry, honey. I forgot to buy candles", he said.

Despite the look of disappointment on her face, Sally took another glance at her birthday cake and said, "That's okay. It still looks good even if there aren't any candles on it."

"I'll try to remember next year, okay?"

Sally looked at her uncle again and suggested, "Maybe you should write it down and stick a note on the fridge. That way you don't forget."

"You're right", Mark agreed, placing his right hand on top of her head to playfully ruffle his niece's hair. This caused a smile to appear on her little face, which brightened up once more as she let out a soft giggle. This brought back a smile to the detective's own lips, showing that he was happy he could still make her laugh.

"You want some milk?" Mark asked.

"Yes, please", Sally answered him.

"Sit down. I'll get you some."

Sally sat back down in her chair while her uncle stood up and went to the cupboard to fetch two glasses, one for her and himself. Just then, the ringtone on his cellphone went off, so Mark put the glasses on the counter and reached into his pocket and answered the call.

"Hello, this is Detective Hoffman", he said. Mark listened to the caller as he turned around and looked at Sally, who had her back facing him. "I'm kind of in the middle of something", he said to the person on the other line, then a moment of silence passed, as though he were letting it sink in that he had just received some bad news. "I see...We'll talk about this tomorrow. Bye." Closing the cellphone, Mark slipped it back into his pocket and picked up the two glasses, bringing them over to the table.

"Who was it?" Sally asked him.

"Nobody", Mark told her, then he went to the fridge to retrieve a carton of milk and came back and poured some into his niece's glass, setting the carton on the table. He went to open the utensil drawer and closed it rather loudly, as though he were angry about something. Sally noticed this and turned her head to look at her uncle as he came back and with a sharp knife and cut her a piece of cake and set it on her plate, stabbing a fork into the top of her slice. Ignoring his increasingly aggressive behavior, the little girl used her fork to cut herself a bite of cake and place it into her mouth, all while Mark picked up his glass and poured himself a drink, without eating anything himself. Whoever called him must have told him something that made him lose his appetite, as he turned again and walked a few feet away from the table, downing the white substance in a way that may as well have been mixed in with some kind of alcohol.

"Goddamn it!" Mark suddenly yelled out loud, throwing the milk carton at the wall.

Sally gasped and jumped in her seat, looking scared as her uncle then threw his empty glass over at the fridge, shattering it into a dozen pieces. This frightened the little girl, who immediately got out of her chair and ran out of the kitchen just in time, as Mark kicked over the table and made a mess of the floor, ruining the cake and everything.

"Fuck!" Mark shouted angrily. His rage decreased somewhat as he turned towards the sink and placed his hands on the counter and bowed his head, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself down. Everything was going great until he got that damned call. The last time the detective felt anger such as this was five years ago, when the man who killed his baby sister was put away for life. Justice had been served, but that wasn't enough to tame the thought of Mark wanting to straight up murder Seth Baxter with his bare hands. Out of all the criminals in the world that got released, this sick bastard had been set free, all because of some stupid technicality when he should have been spending the rest of his undeserving life rotting away in prison.

Suddenly, Mark heard a soft, whimpering noise coming from the living room, which made him lift his head up slowly, a look of horror on his face as he realized what he had just done. Turning around, he immediately went into the living room and looked around to locate the source of distressed crying, finding his scared niece sitting huddled up in a corner. Her legs were pulled up to her chest, her face buried into her knees as tears leaked out from her eyes, not that he could see any yet.

Kneeling down next to her, Mark looked ashamed of himself, as he tried reaching a hand over to Sally, who flinched from his gentle touch on her shoulder and scooted herself as close to the wall as she could.

"Please don't be mad at me", the little girl whimpered.

"Honey, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself", Mark told her. "I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to ruin your birthday."

This only made Sally cry harder, at which point Mark didn't know what to do or say that would convince her otherwise. He silently berated himself for putting his niece through such trauma and wished he could take it back, but it was too late. Standing up, he turned around and walked back to the kitchen, looking around at what may as well have been a crime scene in of itself, then he pulled up his chair and sat down in it before he lowered his head to cover his eyes with his right hand, not even bothering to hold back tears as they started running down his face. This was supposed to be a special day for his niece and he fucked it all up by allowing his anger to get a hold of him and forgetting to take the child's well-being into consideration. A small sob escaped from his lips, his shoulders shaking slightly as he sat there and sulked in solitude, having no excuse for his unacceptable behavior.

A minute later, Sally appeared and stood in the entrance of the kitchen, looking at him. "Uncle Mark?"

Lowering his hand, Mark looked over at his niece, seeing the dark-haired, teary-eyed girl staring at him. Her face was red from crying, her cheeks streaked with two wet lines from where her tears had fallen, almost equaling those of her uncle's. Standing up, the detective went over to where his niece stood and picked her up into his arms, holding her while he rubbed small circles on her back with his right hand, comforting her. Sally sniffled as she laid her head on Mark's right shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. Despite everything that happened, she gave him a hug, knowing he needed one from her almost as much as she needed one from him.

Once things calmed down a bit, Sally went to her bedroom and changed into her pajamas, then she went into the bathroom and started to brush her teeth. Just as she was finishing up, Mark appeared in the doorway, straightening his tie. Sally turned her head to the left and looked up at him.

"I finished cleaning up the kitchen", said Mark. "I'll pick you up another cake tomorrow."

"But my birthday's almost over", Sally informed him.

"So what? That doesn't mean we can't try having it again, can we?"

The little girl lowered her gaze, shrugging her shoulders. "I guess so", she said, looking uncertain.

Just then, Mark's cellphone started ringing again. Fishing the mobile device out from his pocket for the second time that night, he flipped it open to answer the call and said, "Hello?...Yeah, I'll be there in twenty minutes...You do that, then!" The disgruntled detective pulled the cellphone away from his ear and closed it. Sally heard him curse under his breath, followed by the name Gibson, whoever that was.

Setting her toothbrush on the counter, Sally immediately ran out of the bathroom and into the hall to reach the safety of her room, jumping onto her bed and hiding herself under the covers. She stayed hidden underneath a cloak of darkness, curling herself up into a ball as she hugged her knees to her chest. She didn't want to have to see her uncle fly himself into another rage again, but rather than the sound of things breaking and unfiltered dialogue mainly consisting of obscene profanity, Sally instead heard the sound of her uncle's shoes shuffling against the carpeted floor as he walked into her bedroom and sat down on the mattress, which shifted under his weight. Then the child felt a mild pressure on top of her head as a calm voice started speaking to her.

"Can you come out from under there, please?" Mark asked her, his speech muffled due to Sally staying underneath the blanket. "Sally, I need to talk to you."

"What's the password?" Sally called out to him.

A moment of silence followed before Mark responded. "I don't know the password. What is it?"

"Guess!" Sally demanded, refusing to come out.

Mark played along and said, "Well, gee, I don't know. Is it, uh...muffin?"

Sally thought on this, and because it was getting warm underneath the blanket, she finally decided to show her face to her uncle and said to him, "Good enough."

"All right, now listen to me", said Mark. "I know today wasn't a good day for you, but tomorrow, things are gonna start changing around here."

"What do you mean?" Sally asked.

"I mean your uncle is gonna have to start not being so mean and angry when he's around you", the detective explained. "I don't ever want you to have any reason to be afraid of me. You and me, we're a family. We need to start acting like one. All right?"

Sally didn't say anything, but nodded her head in agreement.

Mark moved a strand of dark brown hair away from his niece's face, staring deeply into her beautiful, dark brown eyes. He never told her before, but Sally looked just like a child version of her mother. Angelina had always been a lovely girl. She was not only beautiful, but friendly, well-liked by everyone who knew her. And smart, too.

"Hey, you want to know something?" Mark asked his niece. "When your mother and I were a lot younger, she used to call me a blockhead."

"A blockhead?" Sally questioned.

"Mm-hmm, because I was stubborn and hardheaded, like a block of wood. You know one time she called me Snarky Marky?"

Sally giggled at hearing this, even Mark laughed with her, flashing a genuine smile thinking back on the fun of the memory.

"There, that's my happy girl", said Mark. "You happy, honey?"

Sally nodded her head. "Mm-hmm. I am now."

"Good. I want you to be happy."

"Are you happy, Uncle Mark?"

His smile slipped a little bit, but Mark tried to play it off and said, "Not all the time, but I'll be fine. I just need to sort my shit out."

"Uncle Mark, don't say that word", Sally reprimanded him. "It's bad."

"You're right", Mark agreed. "I'll try not to use that kind of talk around you. Okay?"

"Okay."

A beeping noise sounded from the watch on Mark's right wrist. The detective looked at the time and saw that it was five minutes to nine o'clock.

"Bedtime", Mark announced. "We'll talk about this tomorrow." Standing up, he pulled Sally's blanket over her chest just a bit to make sure she was covered up for the night. "Are you warm enough?"

The little girl gave him confirmation with a small nod of her head.

"Okay. Sleep well, honey", said Mark. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Uncle Mark", said Sally. "I love you."

"I love you, too", said Mark, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before turning off the lamp on her nightstand, then walked out of her bedroom, closing the door behind him.