Elke, Sue and Jack were back at the sandwich shop interviewing the restaurant owner, but in a more secluded area. They told themselves that if they found anything remotely suspicious, they would detain the man, and bring him in for further questioning; but for now, they needed to know who that man depositing money at the bank was.

Calmly, Jack showed Mr. Giordano the picture. He asked, "Do you know who this man is? He is the one who deposited the two million dollars into your business' bank account."

Mr. Giordano grabbed the picture and looked at it closely. Frustrated that he couldn't see very well, he took spectacles out of his shirt pocket, placed them on his nose and looked again. His frustrated expression dropped into a state of shock. He said, "That's my nephew."

Elke said, "Your nephew looks older than your son."

Mr. Giordano answered, "I am from a family of four. This is my second eldest brother's youngest child. He works here on occasion, mainly to help with the truck carrying heavy loads of our product."

Sue said, "Do you know why he might have had two million dollars in his possession?"

"I don't know," the man shrugged, "Maybe he won the lottery?"

Jack asked, "Do you know if he has financial problems?"

"I don't know," Mr. Giordano said, "I don't know him very well, but I do know that he's a businessman himself, and works at an insurance firm. Well, he doesn't just work there, he owns it. If he's rich, it's probably his own money, and maybe the sum of the money he put into the bank account is just a coincidence with the bank robbery that occurred hours earlier."

Jack continued, "If the money is his, then why did he put it into his uncle's business who doesn't know him very well?"

Mr. Giordano shook his head. "I don't know."

"What's his name?"

"Leandro Giordano."

Jack turned to Elke, "Elke, can you call Tara, and ask her if she can dish out any information on Leandro Giordano?"

Elke immediately took out her phone, and started dialing. Placing the phone against her ear, she walked out of the room, and started talking to Tara."

Jack said, "Mr. Giordano, I'm not pointing any fingers at you, but I have to do my job and ask…is the business here failing?"

The other man looked offended. "No, it's doing just fine. I didn't do it!"

Sue stated, "If you didn't know about this money, maybe Leandro is hiding it in a place where the FBI wouldn't know where to look. Do you know where he works or lives, so that we can ask him some questions?"

Mr. Giordano shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. You'll have to talk to the third child, my older brother, because he knows Leandro. I would recommend his father, but he is dead."

Jack sighed. "Where can we find your older brother?"

"He's in jail."

Jack said, "Ah…Dario Giordano…we know him, and my team is talking to him now."

Dimitius and Bobby were at the prison where they were paying a visit to Dario Giordano, who was arrested for theft five times since he was twenty before the judge finally put him away for twenty solid years. Like Jack, Sue and Elke, they brought the picture of mystery man, placed it against the translucent wall in front of them, and Dario took one hard look.

"Ahh, that's my nephew, Leandro Giordano. And how much did you say he deposited?"

Bobby placed the photo back into his jacket pocket. He answered, "Two million dollars."

Dario laughed. "Are you kidding? Two million?! How did he manage that?"

Dimitrus raised a brow. He said, "We just got off the phone with one of our teammates. We were told he owns an insurance firm. Is that true?"

Dario shook his head. "Nah, he leads people on with that story. Truth be told, his wife is the breadwinner, because she's a highly accomplished teacher, so he's a little embarrassed to say that he's a stay at home father. They still don't make much though."

Bobby said, "There's nothing wrong with being a stay at home father, but you're saying there's no way he and his wife would be able to come up with two million dollars?"

"Nope…what's this about?"

Dimitirus chimed, "Like we said, we are FBI, and we are investigating a bank robbery that occurred not too long ago. Two million dollars was stolen at two in the morning, and two million dollars was also deposited the same day within four hours. It looks like your nephew put the money in his uncle's sandwich shop account. To do what? Hide it?"

"Not sure. He doesn't know my little brother very well, but he's got some family problems at home. Maybe his wife is finally divorcing him. He'd need the money for lawyers and family court since his little girl is under eighteen."

Bobby was stunned, "Child? How old is she?"

Dario thought for a moment. "I think she's eight or nine?"

"Do you know where Leandro lives?"

Dario said, "2020 Wallace Avenue."

Dimitrius said, "You're giving us this information pretty easily. You must not like him?"

"No, not particularly. He comes and visits me sometimes and rambles about things that don't interest me."

"Did he ever mention something about a bank robbery?"

Dario shook his head. "I don't know. I never listened to him. I was just grateful for the company."

Dimitrius and Bobby looked at each other. Bobby said, "I better call Jack and tell him what we found out."

Lake Moomaw…

Myles went to his yoga class slightly exhausted; he didn't sleep the night prior due to what seemed like never ending nightmares, and now that he had stopped his medication completely, sleeping was going to get harder. He tried to take short naps throughout the morning, but it didn't help much. Luckily, he wasn't staying with Wanda and Gregory now, so the stress of burdening them was no longer plaguing his mind.

Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, his instructor, Lydia, led him into a smaller room. The walls surrounding them were blue-gray in color. There were numerous plants - both big and small - around the perimeter to give a sensation of being in a rainforest. There was incense, so the room smelt like orange, and ambient sounds of nature were lightly playing in the background. Lastly, there were two yoga mats facing each other in the middle of the room; he assumed that's where they would be seated.

Lydia started, "Here, you can sit on one of the mats." She closed the door. "Welcome to my private studio! As you can tell, this room is a little…unconventional, but I like to make things reminiscent of nature in order to try to give my clients a fulfilling experience during the winter season. It's not like this in my big studio when there is group work."

Myles did as he was told; he then sat in a cross legged position.

Lydia also took a seat. She said, "First we will do some general stretching, then we will start our breathing exercises. But first, allow me to tell you about what to expect here. We will be doing meditation yoga. With this yoga, we do regular yoga exercises, but focus on ourselves by relaxing the body, doing more difficult breathing techniques, and bringing about our pointedness of mind."

Myles just stared at her, not quite understanding what she was going on about. Is this how his friends felt after he explained something in big words?

She cleared her throat. "So let's start with some basic stretching in the arms and legs, so we're not completely stiff." As the two started their arm and leg stretches, Lydia asked, "So, how're you doing today, Myles? You look tired."

Myles sighed. She knew about his complex PTSD already, so what was the point in hiding anything from her? "I didn't sleep well. I was having nightmares, and they didn't want to stop…even when I was awake."

Lydia said, "Well, be assured that when you've had a few classes here, and have understood the meditation process, you will sleep like a baby."

Myles grumbled, "Whatever you say."

When they were done, they moved to the actual yoga poses, and Lydia talked about and demoed proper breathing exercises. They started with the cat pose, then the downward dog, and lastly, the tadasana pose before returning to a sitting position and facing each other. Lydia gave the man in front of her some feedback, "You're stiff, but that's also what yoga is about; improving your flexibility. Now, your breathing is all over the place…we need to work on that."

Lydia and Myles then focused on proper breathing techniques that helped with focus and put oneself into a zen state, separating them from reality. Myles had to admit that although the words spewing out of Lydia's mouth sounded ludicrous, the new ways of breathing, the sounds of nature and orange aroma were helping with improving his concentration. When Lydia was done with her lesson, she told Myles to move into the easiest meditation pose; the Sukhasana. She told him how to sit properly, and what breathing exercises they were going to use, but this time, they were to close their eyes.

Myles did as he was told and did his best to isolate his mind and spirit from the physical world, but after a minute or two of doing so, he endured a vision of someone pointing a rifle at him, and putting a bullet into his chestplate. He lost his breath, grunted, and placed a hand on his chest…not again. Then, he opened his eyes, and saw Lydia looking at him with a stoic expression. She commented, "You had a flashback, didn't you?"

"Yes," he admitted, "I tend to when it's dark."

Lydia understood. "Myles, as confirmation, your goal to come to terms with your illness and allow it to become a part of you instead of fighting and suppressing it?"

"Yes," he answered.

She squinted. "Something tells me that you haven't accepted your illness yet. How long ago has it been since you were diagnosed with complex PTSD?"

Myles exhaled. "It's been years."

"Have you properly grieved?"

Myles scoffed, "Grieved what? The events that caused my condition?"

Lydia shook her head. "No, silly…have you grieved your PTSD? If you haven't, you need to take the time to do so, and accept that it's in your life, so we can continue with the meditation process."

"No, not really. I've just kind of hid it from everyone." He tried telling her, "It's awful. I feel awful. I'm like a ticking time bomb…I'm…"

Realizing that Myles might tell her more than he should, Lydia placed a hand on his knee and interjected, "Let me stop you right there."

Myles' eyes widened. He was flabbergasted. What did he do wrong? He was going to tell her how he felt, just like he did with his psychiatrist.

Lydia continued, "In order to grieve about this in a healthy manner, you need to tell someone about how you really feel about your condition, and it can't be me, or your psychiatrist if you have one. We are both strangers. You need to tell someone that you trust with your life, and share your feelings alongside them. You told me a little bit about yourself before coming in here, and I can tell you haven't grieved the things you've seen, the friends you've lost, and the loss of your mind and independence. Unfortunately, we both know that your PTSD is probably going to stay with you forever, but step one to the healing process is to open yourself up wide; otherwise this yoga thing is never going to work, and you are going to self-destruct big time."

Myles frowned. He hated being lectured like this. "And what gives you the idea that it will work? I'm not a man who likes to expose himself."

Lydia smiled. "Because I'm just as stubborn, and hard headed as you, and I speak from experience. I lost my mom and dad in a plane crash almost seven years ago. I then stayed with my aunt and uncle here, but kept the loss of my parents to myself…I never expressed my feelings to anyone." She paused before continuing, "I know how bottling your feelings can affect your psyche. I couldn't eat or sleep for years until I finally told my best friend how sad and angry I was at the world." She let go of his hands. "That's when I was finally able to grieve, move on, and start on a healing journey through faith and yoga."

Myles thought for a moment of who in his life he could fully open himself up to. After running through the list of people in his head, there was only one obvious answer. He would have to phone her, and she was so very far away. "Okay, I can do that."

"You need support, and I want to be a part of that, that aids you to get better. I want you to talk to that person between now and when I see you again, which will be in two days time, free of charge. Once you have grieved with someone familiar, and accepted that your condition is in your life, we can carry on with your private lessons and start making peace with it. Believe me - meditation will be easier once you've released the emotional burden. OH!" Lydia then reached beside her, and grabbed a business card. She told Myles as she gave the card to him, "We have a massage therapist in town and I've already talked to him. I can book you in for an appointment. He can alleviate your body pains, help you relax your mind, and help you feel rejuvenated. When was the last time you ever got a massage?"

Myles chuckled as he accepted the card. "It's been a very long time also. Thank you."

Chapter 21 is next…