When morning came, Sally woke up and found herself lying in a different bed in a different room, one that was not her own. Turning her head to the right, she found her uncle was lying next to her, sleeping. Sitting up, Sally looked around the room and realized her uncle had brought her into his own bedroom, though she didn't remember him coming home last night. She came to the conclusion that he must have come home shortly after she fall asleep, though she wasn't sure why he brought her into his room. The child figured he must have had a bad dream or something. Sally remembered one time when she had a nightmare and Uncle Mark allowed her to sleep in his bed with him so that she felt safer. Maybe the same thing happened to him, and while there was some form of truth in the child's theory, the little girl had no idea of the kind of nightmare her Uncle Mark had last night.

Just then, a distant, booming noise caught Sally's attention, as she turned her head to the right, looking over towards the window and seeing that it was storming outside. Heavy raindrops pattered against the glass, causing streams of different sizes to race down and gather in a puddle on the exterior windowsill. The child moved the blanket off of her, being carefully quiet while she got out of bed and went around it to walk over to the window and look out at the rainstorm, all without waking up her uncle, who was tired from the lack of proper sleep after sacrificing too many nights for his job and other recreational activities, such as setting up a fake Jigsaw trap by myself, though she didn't know anything about that.

Sally stood by the window, looking out at the city on that dreary, rainy morning, with its gloomy, gray clouds and fat, silvery water droplets that threatened to flood the gutters in the street way down below.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning touched down in the distance, the nearby sound of thunder that followed frightening the little girl, who gasped and turned around and ran back over to the bed, jumping on top of her sleeping uncle as she started to shake his right shoulder.

"Uncle Mark, wake up! Wake up!"

The urgency in the child's voice worked, as Mark turned over onto his back and stared wide-eyed at his niece, who he was surprised to see was hovering above him. "What's wrong? You all right?" he asked.

"I don't like thunderstorms", Sally bemoaned.

Sitting up in bed with a groan, Mark leaned his back against the headboard behind him and said to her, "There's nothing to be scared of, Sally. We're safe and sound indoors. Nothing is going to hurt you."

Another boom of thunder from outside ruined his chances of trying to calm her down, as Sally looked to her left and saw another flash of white light near the window, which caused her to scream and wrap her arms around her uncle, trapping him into a tight hug, clinging onto him like a security blanket.

"Calm down", said Mark. "Here, let me turn on the lights." Pulling his right arm out from his niece's hold on him, the detective reached over to turn on the lamp next to his bedside, but the light bulb failed to do its job. Mark looked at the non-cooperative object and tried clicking it on twice, but to no avail.

"Stay here", Mark instructed, pulling the child away from him as he got out of the bed and went to try turning on the main light switch on the wall to see if it would work, but no source of electronic light shone down from the small, glass dome hanging in the middle of the ceiling.

"Is the power out?" Sally asked him.

"Yeah, it seems that way", Mark confirmed. "It went out last night just as I came home from work."

With that said, Sally got off the bed and ran over to her uncle, clinging onto him again by wrapping her arms around his middle. With his right hand still free, Mark tore it away from the light switch and used it to stroke the top of his niece's head, trying to comfort the little girl.

"Uncle Mark, I'm scared", Sally whimpered.

"I already told you there's nothing to be scared about", Mark reminded her. "The storm's out there, we're in here. There's no way it can get inside. So, the power's out. Big deal. We're both still alive, aren't we?"

"Yeah."

"Then there's nothing to be scared of. Go get yourself dressed. I'll fix you something to eat."

"How? The power's out, and you can't cook or heat anything up without using the stove or the microwave."

"Don't worry. I'll think of something."

While Sally went to her bedroom and changed out of her pajamas and into some regular clothes, Mark found his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge to look for something to fix his niece for breakfast, though the time on his watch told him it was just about time for lunch. He took out a carton of milk and opened the carton to smell it, making sure it wasn't spoiled. It smelled okay, and since it was still cold, he didn't think it would harm his niece if he poured her a glass. Setting the carton on the counter, he then took out a jar of strawberry jam and set it next to the milk, then closed the door and went to open the cupboard and found a jar of peanut butter. He made a mental note in his head to pick up some more groceries once the storm passed.

By the time Sally entered the kitchen, she found her uncle had already made her a sandwich and took the liberty of cutting it in half for her. She sat in her chair at the dining table and ate her lunch quietly, while the detective went into the living room and tried calling his workplace and told his boss that he was taking the day off, feigning an illness. After he hung up, Mark went over to stand by the window and watch the rain fall down over the city, his usual cup of coffee in the morning having been replaced with a glass of milk that he held in his hand, though he hardly drank any of it.

A few minutes later, Mark turned away from the window and went back into the kitchen, sitting down in the chair across from his niece. Sally acknowledged his presence with a brief glance of her eyes before lowering her gaze back down to take another bite of the sandwich her uncle made for her. The small smile that graced Mark's lips showed for only a second before they formed back into a frown.

"I'm sorry I came home late last night", said Mark, after a long period of silence.

Sally looked back over at him, chewing her food before swallowing it down so she wouldn't talk with her mouth full. "It's okay", she said. "I know your job is important."

"That's not the point", said Mark. "How's your sandwich?"

Sally nodded. "It's good", she said.

"I know it's not the best thing to feed you, but it's the only thing I can make you right now."

"That's okay. I don't mind."

Silence filled the room again, as Mark leaned back in his seat and thought about how to break the news to his niece about the old man he talked to….No, that wasn't right. The old man who abducted him. He said his name was John Kramer. The detective remembered reading that name somewhere before, though he couldn't remember from where exactly that was.

"Are you okay?" Sally asked him.

Blinking, Mark looked over across the table, returning his attention back over to his niece. "What?"

"You look like you were falling asleep", the child stated. "Are you sleepy?"

Sitting up straight, Mark fixed his posture and answered, "No, I was just thinking about something."

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters, I was thinking about the reason why I came home so late."

"Were you at the bar with your friends?" Sally questioned.

"No, not exactly", Mark answered. "You see, there was this old man and he wanted to talk to me about-"

"What old man?"

"I don't know. He was a random old man. I have no idea who he was. I was on my way home last night, and while I was riding in the elevator, there was this old man standing behind me who said he wanted to talk to me. I didn't know who he was or what he wanted, but I allowed him to talk and explain himself. After he finished speaking, I walked away from him and thought about an offer he made me."

"What kind of offer?" Sally wondered.

"That's not for you to worry about", Mark told her.

"What did he say to you?"

"I can't tell you. It's confidential."

"But you said no more secrets between us, remember?"

"I know, but I can't tell you. It's strictly adult business. It's nothing for you to worry about, so just stay out of it."

Frustrated, Sally slammed her hand on the table and shouted at her uncle, "That's not fair!"

"Don't start up with me, young lady!" Mark shouted back, glaring at her with intense eyes, and the tone of his harsh, angered voice alone was enough to silence his niece, who stared back at him, frightened.

Without even asking her if she was finished with her food, Mark reached over and grabbed Sally's plate with the half-eaten sandwich on it, then gathered both of their drinking glasses and went to put everything in the sink before he placed both his hands on the kitchen counter, bowing his head as he sighed deeply, trying not to let his emotions take control of him. He felt tensed up, as the tension in his neck started to build up. His muscles were stiff, unwilling to allow him to maintain any sense of peace or tranquility. The only thing calm or sensible about his body language was the quiet breathing he did through his nose, his voice not making any other sound while he avoided looking at the little girl.

"Uncle Mark, are you mad at me?" Sally asked, her voice small and timid. Although he never once laid his hands on her, the child almost expected her uncle to start yelling at her for asking a simple question.

The detective was silent for a moment, still keeping his back turned towards his niece. "No, baby, I'm not mad at you", Mark answered, sounding much calmer than before, thinking to himself, I just wish I could make you understand. "It's just been a stressful week for me, that's all", he said.

"But it's only Thursday", Sally reminded him, and when her eyes shifted down to look at his hands on the flat surface they were resting on and saw them ball up into fists, as though he were ready to start punching the wall or something, the child immediately changed her opinion and told him, "It's okay if you can't tell me, Uncle Mark. I won't ask you questions about the old man anymore. Even Sherlock Holmes had to keep secrets from his family and friends to protect them from his enemies, right?"

Mark didn't respond to his niece right away, his head buried deep within the recollections of last night as he remembered the talk he had with John Kramer about the processes of rehabilitation, and how the detective helping him was not a punishment, but a step towards redemption for killing someone, even though the man was a murderer. Hearing what the child said to him just now, Mark started thinking of using Sally's appreciation for the literary character as an example, so that he might be able to make his young niece understand his current situation, by fabricating a story for her about what happened to him last night.

Raising his head to straighten it, Mark turned around and walked back over to the dining table and sat down in his chair, staring at his niece. "Sally, do you remember Watson?" He asked her.

"What?" The child asked.

"John Watson, the doctor in those detective stories I tell you."

"Yeah, I remember. He's Sherlock's best friend."

"Well, the old man I talked to last night shares the same exact name as him. His name is John, too."

"Does that mean you're Sherlock Holmes?"

Mark thought about this for a minute, thinking it was a good allegory to use. "Well, sort of", he said.

"Is the John you talked to a doctor like Dr. Watson?"

"No, but he's very smart and knows a lot of things about people like Sherlock."

"I want you to be Sherlock."

"Will you shut up and listen to me, please? Anyway, John told me he needed someone to help him with trying to solve a few cases, but he doesn't want the police to get involved, so he gave me a proposition."

"Did he give you a diamond?" Sally asked.

Mark arched his eyebrows, giving his niece a questioning look. "Excuse me?"

"Isn't that when a man asks a lady to marry him by giving her a ring?"

"No, that's a proposal. A proposition is when someone offers an idea or a suggestion to somebody, like in a business."

"What kind of idea did he have?" Sally wondered.

"Well, I'm trying to get to that, but you keep interrupting me", Mark stated.

"I'm sorry."

Mark fell silent, trying to word his next sentence carefully without revealing too much about the man who claimed to be the Jigsaw Killer. He had to remember that he had been blackmailed by John, and that if should he let his niece know too much about the old man, than Jigsaw would go to the police and tell them the truth about Seth Baxter's murder. If Sally found out, her view of her uncle would shatter.

"John said he has reason to believe that certain people are falling victim to Jigsaw because they're all connected somehow", Mark lied. "He wants me to keep an eye on some people he thinks might become the next victims in Jigsaw's games. John's done his own private investigations on them, but he doesn't like working by himself. The police won't like me working with John, but I'm doing this for a reason."

"So you can catch the Jigsaw Killer and bring him to justice, right?" Sally guessed.

Slowly, Mark nodded his head, liking where this was going and how well his niece was feeding into his lies, even though he knew he shouldn't be telling her any of this information at all. "Yeah, something like that", he said. The detective knew this would probably backfire on him one day, but until then, he thought it was better to keep Sally hidden in the dark about John Kramer than tell her the exact truth.

"Does this mean you're gonna quit your job and start your own detective business?" Sally asked.

"No, I'm still keeping my job", said Mark. "I just need to help John keep on eye on his friends. It goes against police regulations, but I'm doing it, anyway. Nobody else is supposed to know about this, but now that you know, you can't go around telling anyone, because if my involvement with John gets around to my department and they find out I was solving the case without them, they won't trust me anymore and I'll get fired. I know I said no more secrets, but I need you to keep this one just between the two of us. Just this one time. Okay, honey?"

"Okay, Uncle Mark, I won't tell anyone", Sally vowed. "I cross my heart and hope to die."

"Well, I certainly hope not, because that's the last thing I want you to do."

Just then, a dim light shined down on them, filling the kitchen with mild brightness. The light in the living room came on, as well. Mark looked up at the ceiling, watching the light above him and Sally flicker once, then remain stationary. His niece copied his actions, staring up at the ceiling with him.

"Hey, the power's back on again", Sally exclaimed happily, smiling.

"Yes, I see that", Mark agreed. Just then, his cellphone rang. Reaching a hand into his pocket, he took out his cell and flipped it open before putting it to his ear. "Hello, this is Detective Hoffman", he said, listening to the voice on the other end.

"Hello, Detective."

All at once, Mark felt a hard knot develop in his stomach as soon as that familiar, soft-spoken voice answered back to him. Standing up, he turned away and walked out of the kitchen and went into the living room so his niece couldn't hear whose voice was speaking to him, which was John Kramer's.

"How did you get this number?" Mark asked, keeping his voice a low whisper.

"That's not important. I'm just making sure you haven't forgotten about our little encounter. I told you I would call you in a few days. I'm just giving you a reminder, that's all. Remember what we discussed last night, Detective, and should you choose to ignore the rules of our game, there will be consequences."

Placing a hand on the wall, as though steadying himself in case he were about to faint from shock, Mark kept his back turned towards the kitchen, trying to soak in every word John was telling him.

Curious to know who was speaking to her uncle, Sally got up from her chair and went to stand near the kitchen entranceway, waiting until he finished talking to the person on the other end before he hung up.

"Is everything okay?" The child asked him.

Turning to his left to look back at her, Mark stared wide-eyed at Sally, whose unannounced presence nearly gave him a heart attack. His face looked a lot paler than it usually was, like he had just seen a ghost. For a moment, Sally wondered if she should rush to the phone and call for medical assistance.

Lowering his right arm, Mark closed his cellphone and put it back into his pocket before he went over to Sally, placing his hands on either side of her head as he looked down at her with a calm expression.

"Everything's fine", the detective informed her. "Right now, I'm going to take a shower. Once I'm finished cleaning up and get myself dressed, I'll play with you, okay?"

"Okay, you get cleaned up, and I'll wait for you in my room", said Sally.

Giving her a smile, Mark planted a kiss on top of his niece's head, then he turned around and went down the hall to lock himself away in the bathroom, sighing heavily. Once he stripped himself out of his clothes, the detective pulled back the curtain and stepped into the bathtub, closing the curtain again before he turned on the tap to allow a gush of hot, steaming water to rain down all over his naked body. For a long time, Mark didn't move or change his position, allowing the relaxing warmth to soak into his skin, having a moment to himself before he had to face reality again, still thinking about his situation. If there were tears coming out of his eyes, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference from the warm water spraying on him.

Eventually, Mark snapped out of his funk and did what he originally came into the shower for, which was to wash himself clean, as he picked up a bar of soap and rubbed it onto his skin to cleanse his naked body of all the unwanted residue from the previous day. Next, he paid attention to his hair, using a lightly-scented shampoo to clean his brown-stranded head before rinsing it out, then applied some conditioner. Occasionally, a satisfied groan escaped from Mark's throat, the only other sound heard in the bathroom besides the loud water that splashed down onto his tense muscles, the refreshing spray helping to relieve the stress that he felt about having to work for Jigsaw.