San Francisco, USA  September, 2016       Mahone tightens the knot of his black tie around his neck, then fixes the collar of his coat. Actually, suit-coat always makes him feeling uneasy, but since it's a mourning day, he can't go there with his usual outfits.     It has been three days since Garrett Greenham died. His daughter Samlin is sick, haven't waken up from coma yet in hospital, it was obvious that she would have a nervous breakdown again. Her mother was devastated after seeing them, she still is. The Greenham family has already declared the news of his death in the mass media, said the cause was an unknown assailant's gunshot. The police and detectives are investigating the case, but it's useless. Lynn and Mahone clearly saw who did that and the cops won't do anything about that, because The Conditorem always controls them. Since this two brothers

Samlin Greenham     I suddenly open my eyes.     I blink and slowly move my head. The pain in head is light, a little like when you are injected morphine.     Where am I?    I move myself in a seated position, then look around the room, remaining dark.    It is my own room.    I clamber off from the bed and stand up and switch on the light. The clothes I'm wearing is dry, surprising. The windows are opened, bringing cold air and the door is opened, so I warily step outside.     Somebody brought me home.   

He Celandine observed the man curiously who just came out from the chamber, going downstairs. She noticed the small hand batch on his black robe, wondering what that might be meaning.     Suddenly everything around her change    They traveled dawn to dusk, past woods and orchards and neatly tended fields, through small villages, crowded market towns, and stout holdfasts. Come dark, they would make camp and eat by the light of the moon and the lamps. The men took turns standing watch. Celandine would glimpse firelight flickering through the trees from the camps of other travelers. There seemed to be more camps every night, and more traffic on the kingsroad by da She somehow knew it was a dream Morning, noon, and night they came, old folks and little children, big men and small ones, barefoot girls and women with babes a

● Music recommendation : Not in that way         Mahone tiredly slams the door of his bedroom, unbuttoning his coat. He spent more than three hours at some secret underground space for a certain address, got into a few fights too, when he finally found it, but the thought of being betrayed made his blood boiling. So, he did something to the guy who gave him the address and all he's feeling now is tiredness, not any regret. He suddenly notices Lake lying on his bed. "What are you doing in my room?" he asks, pulling off his tie. "Don't you have your room? Go lie down there."   Lake glances at him for a second, then looks back the book she's holding. "I'm reading. I will go back when I finish this book. And no offense, but I couldn't like the guest room. It was kinda_ horror movies type room." Mahone starts to unbutton his shirt, stepping to his

San Diego, USA    Mahone covers his head with the black hoodie, then steps briskly to the small house. He sniffs, the irritating heat of the sun causing him fever. He's not so sure of that, but he can feel it, his head is light-weighted, everything he sees, seems blunt and bright.   He climbs the stairs and rings the bell three times, the first two was quick, the last one was differently long. Actually it was a code, but who knows if his friend still remembers it. The door opens fast. An innocent looking boy, has thin beard at his jaw, wearing loafers, is standing at the doorsteps, watching Mahone suspiciously. "Assalamu Alaikum," he finally greets him in Arabic. "How can I help you, Mister?" Mahone removes his black sunglasses, then smiles at him, "Lays alyawm, Musa." Musa stares at him in disb