Dimple had thought through what he'd say once this moment inevitably came, but looking up at Harmony the whole list of arguments left him. It took some time for him to even to process that Harmony had spoken, and it took even longer for him to get something out with his trembling voice.

"Director..." Dimple gulped, cleared his throat, blinked at the rain falling on him. "I can explain..."

Harmony continued to stare at him, waiting for just that, and Dimple found that he could not, in fact, explain anything. After a long silence, Harmony glanced back at the row of guards behind them.

"See to the Councilwoman," Harmony said. "A pair of you, take her to the infirmary. Jahdiel, come here."

A pair of guards went to where Lorcana lay and knelt beside her body, checking for a pulse, while a third guard stepped forward beside the marble-skinned director. He was an elf, tall and lanky with a sharp, pointed nose, sharper ears, and even sharper eyes. His hair, brown and braided at one shoulder, stuck to his neck against the rain, and the look he gave oozed self-assurance.

The sight of him was somehow more perturbing to Dimple than even Harmony, and now along with his anxiety and guilt came an equal share of shame.

"I believe you and this Seedling are acquainted," Harmony said. "If he will not speak, perhaps you will in his stead. Tell me, what do I see here?"

The elf, Jahidel, looked down his long nose at the minotaur kneeling on the ground, almost in supplication. He then looked at Red, who lay on the floor and blinked groggily at these new interlocutors.

"You see a dangerous human thankfully brought low by our Head of Security," Jahidel began. "And beside him, a softhearted coward."

Harmony nodded, considering the two. "And has this coward betrayed us?"

Jahdiel snorted. "That would be giving him too much credit. No, Dimple here is no traitor. He has no heart for something so hazardous. I can only assume he's brought himself here through sheer stupidity."

Dimple could mount no defense. He could only kneel there, listening to them talk about him, each word lowering his head by one more humiliated notch.

But next to him, Red slowly came to. The boy frowned up at Jahdiel, eyes brightening, and by some miracle he found his footing. The boy heaved, a hand on his gut wound, covered as it was now in the makeshift bandages Dimple had made from someone's wardrobe.

At this, Jahdiel's stance widened some, and the elf looked on warily. Harmony remained perfectly calm beside him, hands behind their back, unthreatened.

Though he stood a good head shorter, Red scowled up at Jahdiel, meeting the elf's confidence with his own. "You... you're the stupid one."

"I..." Jahdiel raised a brow. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said... you're the stupid one." Red shook his head. "Bull Boy kept me busy so I wouldn't hurt anyone else. He was probably waiting for help all along. Where the hell were you people this whole time?"

The elf sputtered, but Harmony considered these words. Their yellow eyes bore on Red. "You'd defend one you also claim worked against you?"

"Sure," Red said, shrugging. "We're buddies, after all."

Dimple looked up at him in shock. So, Red had known this whole time what he'd been up to, and just hadn't cared? How did that make any sense?

Harmony seemed to share in this question, though for them it came with the detached interest of someone examining the peculiarities of an ant. "I can't say I see your logic."

"He's a good guy," Red said. Each word came with a painful rasp, but he said them all the same. "So what if we're not on the same side?"

Something hardened in Harmony's eyes—a stalwart flicker, barely enough to rise above indifference. "Those on two different sides are destined to fight."

Red's lips, painfully, stretched into a grin. "Good... Fighting's fun. Why, you wanna go next?"

Jahdiel finally had enough of this nonsense. He stepped in front of Red, blocking Harmony from him. "Your arrogance is plain to see, human. Lorcana is a great warrior, but she was alone. Our director represents all of us, and to challenge them is to challenge the whole force of this World Tree. You're close enough to death as it is."

"Oh-hoh..." Red stepped forward. "Bring it on."

Another step forward, and now Jahdiel held a hand out, as if calling for something, but at the third step Red's knees buckled, and the boy flopped forward, falling face-first onto the floor. He lay there, eyes closed, completely spent, hand still curled to punch.

Harmony, Jahdiel, Dimple, and the other guards looked down at the now unconscious boy, half-expecting him to rise again. When he didn't, remaining there on the ground in a pool of blood and water, Jahdiel came close and nudged the body with his foot, just to make sure.

"What a funny little creature," Harmony said.

Jahdiel scoffed. "A big talker, more like." He held out a hand once more, and from the wooden planks at his feet there rose a long cylinder of yellow tree sap. It thickened and hardened into amber in his hand, shaping itself into a thin spear, and in the light of thunder the elf pointed it downwards right over Red's heart. "By your leave, Director, I'll finish what Lorcana started."

Dimple drew forward, readying a shout, but Harmony spoke up before he could.

"Leave the boy be, Jahdiel," they said, pensive. "That mark on his cheek..."

The elf frowned, leaning over to look at it. He could barely make it out behind the blood, grime, and splash of raindrops.

"A red two?" Grip on his spear wavering, Jahdiel looked back at the director. "Does it mean something?"

After a moment of thought, Harmony shook their head a single time. "I've seen its like before. If it's what I think, that old man outdid himself once again." Their voice, briefly tinged with amusement, now hardened once more. "Let him live. He might be useful."

Jahdiel clicked his tongue, but orders were orders, so he let the spear fall. As it hit the floor it turned back to sap and got carried along in the streaming current of water. "Shall we take him to the infirmary also?"

"Oh, no need for that," Harmony said. "Let him survive on his own strength. For now, put him with the other humans. I'll want to get a good look once all this is over."

Their marble hand rose and gestured towards the wounded boy. Face curled in distaste, Jahdiel nevertheless stepped back as one of the other guards split off from the line and advanced towards Red, took him up, and slung him over a shoulder.

"As for this Seedling," Harmony said, looking at Dimple, "I suppose I should apologize. Regardless of your intentions, I find myself agreeing with Jahdiel. No betrayal seems to have occurred." The fairy bowed their head; barely a tilt, though it still came unnaturally from their stiff posture. "You should know, I took the liberty of informing your uncle that you were involved in this."

Even in the shock of everything that had happened—just one paralyzing event after another—the word "uncle" sent Dimple into new whirlwinds of thought. "Ah... he's c-coming here?"

"Yes. I'm sure he'll want to talk." Harmony looked up at the sky. "For now, let us step inside. No need to stand in this weather longer than we need to."

All things considered, Dimple had stopped caring about how soaked through he was. But, too overwhelmed to do anything else, the minotaur stood and went to Bessie, grabbing her by the reins. He pulled her forward, following after Harmony and the guards as they retreated into the nearest opening in the trunk wall, Lorcana and Red both carried along, equally dead to the world.

It had been a lot, but things had more or less worked out, hadn't they? Red had been captured as he deserved, but he hadn't died. It was the ideal result. Dimple didn't feel as relieved by the thought as he would have liked, and he spent the whole walk trying to convince himself this came from exhaustion and stress and worry over what his uncle might say. Things had worked out. They had to have worked out.

- - - — MKII — - - -

"The first report was pretty minor," Daphne was saying, voice hoarse. "Just an acre. The only reason it got brought up at all was how weird it looked. Wheat turning black and dead. I figured it was some kind of fungus or something."

They'd made themselves as comfortable as they could. Sitting either cross-legged or leaning against the walls, the Scouts listened to Daphne as she tiredly related how she'd gotten stuck in the same room as them. And it wasn't just her; some of the Oaklings the Head Scout used as secretaries were there too, a pair of nymphs who seemed only marginally more energized. Clover kept close to her mother, an arm snug over the older woman's shoulders.

"Then, another one, in a completely different state," Daphne said. "It was too weird to be some accident. Now I thought maybe it was some new prank the boggarts learned to do, or maybe some goblins. We sent Rangers to look around, but they couldn't find anything."

Daphne rubbed at her forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles. "The next report's the one that really freaked me out, though. A whole farm. Just... hundreds and hundreds of acres. God knows how much work, how much food, all shriveled up and worthless overnight." She shook her head. "It was too much. Whatever this was, it could spread far. And it kept popping up without any sense. We had to do something before things got any worse. So, of course, I told Harmony about it."

Here Daphne paused, chuckling darkly. "Stupid. That's probably what made them keep an eye on me while I pieced things together." Now she looked at Clover. "This is why I told you to stay away. I knew the Council would find any excuse to trap you all here."

Clover leaned close. "But why?"

Daphne shrugged. "Because that's what happened to me as soon as I got too close. I was looking into this wheat problem, when all of a sudden one of my Ranger friends told me she'd been attacked. She said the hit came from here."

Eyes narrowed, Clover sighed. "From Bishop. Right?"

"Yes. God, don't tell me you—"

"One of my friends. We came to figure it out."

"Well, I tried too. There was only one place here someone could send an assassin of all things from."

As Daphne continued to explain, high above at the computer hut, Malcolm finally found Bishop's files.

It had taken plenty of looking—to the point that he'd started thinking they must've made some stupid mistake coming here—but Malcolm had found it. Too well-hidden. Maybe now he could finally start learning why.

The computer screen acted as a spotlight in the otherwise pitch dark hut. Malcolm stared intently at it, pulling out all the tricks Baba had taught him, and began by pulling up the account history just to make sure it aligned with what they already knew. A few clicks and there it was, a money transfer to Seig three days before. Malcolm almost clicked out to snoop for a solid name, but then stopped. Alongside Seig's transfer, he saw others, all of them the same amount of money, all of them sent at the exact same time.

Apprehensive now, Malcolm started looking through them. He scrolled by a dozen. Then two. Then three. Scrolling faster Malcolm recognized to his mounting horror that there must be hundreds, maybe thousands of transfers.

Back to Clover. The Scout watched with increasing worry as her mother settled into a grim whisper, each word a shovel digging through their silence.

"I think the hitmen are just a distraction," Daphne said. "Just a way to get the Enforcers off their backs. And a way to make sure the RC doesn't realize what they're doing until it's too late. Jubilee... Jubilee is a distraction too. A distraction for us."

Back to Malcolm. It took some effort to pull himself away from the transfers, but he still had a job to do, regardless of how insane the scale of that job was getting.

Eventually his virtual sleuthing got him to another set of records, one that seemed more focused on locations than money transfers. It was that focus that stopped him short, because while something like this might be expected of any record keeping in a national organization like the ELD, the simplicity of it looked far too out of place.

There were only two columns: one naming a place, another stating simply that it was or it was not "planted," whatever that meant. Scrolling through them, Malcolm noted that the vast majority were, in fact, "planted."

Brow raised, he read location after location, trying to guess at what the purpose of the document actually was.

Mudanjiang City / Planted

Davenport Downs / Planted

Wave Hill / Planted

Innamincka / Planted

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Clifton Hills / Planted

It went on and on. The more he read, the less Malcolm could make sense of it. There was nothing else to pull information from. What was the connection here?

Back to Clover. After a brief pause, Daphne looked up at all of the Scouts around her.

"I'm not sure what they're planting," she said, "but I know they've been doing it for years, and it has to be the thing killing those fields. Those reports... I think they were misfires. Or maybe tests. Or maybe it needed time to incubate, or something."

Daphne shook her head. "But now the RC is too busy to do anything about it, and the whole ELD is caught up in the conference. So tomorrow, farmers all around the world will wake up, drink their coffee, put some clothes on. Then they'll walk out to work. Maybe it's been going well, or maybe it hasn't. But that doesn't matter." She closed her eyes, frowning. "Either way, they'll find their crops dead. All of them. Everywhere."

The Scouts took in her words in silence. Then, one by one, their eyes widened as they recognized what she had actually said.

"... Everywhere?" Clover asked. "You mean..."

"Simultaneous, global crop failure," Daphne finished. "Then a few months of rationing. Then who knows how many starving refugees. Then..."

"That's..." Sam combed his hair back, rubbing at his temples. Knees wobbling, he slowly set himself down on the floor. "That's basically asking for World War 3, right? That's millions of people dying."

"Millions, if we're lucky," Clover said, stunned.

Back to Malcolm, because before he could think on Bishop's files any longer, he heard a ruffle at the other end of the hut. Immediately, he slinked back from the computer, cursing at himself as he set his back against the wall. With the monitor light, Malcolm could just make out two silhouettes. One slim and four-armed, the other gigantic and horned.

Walking through the curtains, the Councilmen Silviamon and Alexander stepped into the office space with casual confidence. The two looked around at what to them seemed an empty room, eyes passing unknowingly over Malcolm due to Kit's ring.

Of course, they immediately noticed the lit computer screen at the other end of the room.

"I suppose the intruder already found what they were looking for," Silviamon said. "Looks like we just missed them. "

Alexander grunted, arms crossed and eyes narrowed skeptically at the darkness. "Or maybe one of your cronies just forgot to turn off that blasted thing," he said.

"Don't be stupid. I'm the only one with access. If someone turned it on, it was to hack into it."

He was the only one with access, meaning he was Bishop. One of the High Council members was Bishop.

Malcolm felt his blood cool as the two neared. Silviamon went straight for the computer, all four hands settling into the keyboard and tapping away. Meanwhile, Alexander stopped at the center of the room, huffing through his large nose. Slowly, the Ranger slid his way along the wall, hoping to circumvent them altogether.

But then Alexander sniffed quickly, head turning to look around at the room again. "Wait. That smell..."

Silviamon smirked over at him. "Pick up some tricks from the hounds?"

"I'm being serious, you insufferable twig." Alexander sniffed again, and now his bull's head turned fully to Malcolm's direction. "I smell something."

Alexander neared, and Malcolm slowly put his hands together, breathing in as silently as he could manage. It would've been one thing to get caught by some schmuck, but it was another thing entirely to get caught by someone who was, it seemed, an accomplice in several thousand assassination attempts.

That, and the minotaur looked like he could crush Malcolm's entire body with one hand if he wanted. It made for a pretty intimidating confrontation, even if Alexander couldn't quite see his opponent just yet. Standing there in tense expectation, Malcolm wished Kit's ring could've snuffed out his scent as much as it made him invisible.

Silviamon shook his head, typing away at the computer at the other end of the hut. "You've always been too paranoid."

"And you've never been paranoid enough," Alexander huffed. "Shut it and do your job. I'll do mine."

The minotaur continued his lumbering advance, narrowing on Malcolm's location with thick one clop after another of his hoofed feet, nose turning to and fro with each long sniff. Dark as it was, his eyes glinted sharply, small beads of light atop a monstrous silhouette that came ever closer, crouching low.

That is, until it was interrupted by a satyr dashing in, the ruffle of curtains striking sharply over the rain outside.

The goat man panted, blue security robes damp against his skin and fur, and stood straight at attention. "Councilman Alexander, Councilman Silviamon, sirs!"

Alexander stopped at once, rank breath oozing down right over Malcolm's face. The boy had to fight back the urge to reach up and cover his nose from the smell, and then he had to fight back the urge to drop in relief when Alexander turned fully to greet the sudden intrusion.

"Sapling," Alexander said, straightening back up. "What is it now?"

"It's the intruder, sir," the guard said. "He's been caught out on the platform, by level three. Director Harmony ordered me to fetch you both. And they said to tell you, Councilman, that your, uh... your nephew was found assisting him."

Lightning flashed outside, and in the brief snap of light that came in through the open curtain, Malcolm looked up to see Alexander's face settle into a grim scowl, eyes closed.

That scowl only deepened when Silviamon broke into a snicker across the room. "So I was right on both accounts. The intruder was elsewhere, and your nephew was helping him!"

It happened before Malcolm could react. With a sharp yell, Alexander raised an arm and then slammed a hammer fist down onto a nearby desk, splitting it in two with an explosion of splinters. Some of it slapped against Malcolm's invisible form, though thankfully he was already glued to the wall anyway so it didn't attract any notice.

The security guard looked on tensely, though he didn't seem particularly surprised. As for Silviamon, he merely glanced over the computer monitor, eyebrow raised. "Well, that's just not nice. Those take time to make."

Alexander breathed deeply and slowly, making the clear effort to calm down. "Are you finally done?"

"Oh, I was done two minutes ago. I've just been playing solitaire."

Another deep breath. "One day, Silviamon... One day, you'll get what's coming to you."

"I'm sure thinking so is quite the comfort for you."

Silviamon walked out from behind the computer with these words. As he passed by Alexander, grinning in delight, the minotaur's hand clench into a fist, shaking with barely-contained rage. Malcolm saw it, and for a second thought Alexander would do to the forest demon what he'd done to that desk, but the moment passed. Soon the two Councilmen passed out of the hut, the security guard marching right behind them.

Malcolm immediately pulled out his phone and started up a text to Clover. Except, as he typed, he noticed that dreaded announcement at the top right of his screen: No signal.

Now of all times? Malcolm raised the phone over his head, swinging it around in the air, trying to find even a single bar. Then, the seed of a thought sprouted, and he made his way back to the computer to make sure.

The screen was dead. No click of the mouse and no tap of the keyboard would elicit so much as a boot-up. He reached around for the power button, held it, and found much the same result. Could Silviamon have done this? Nothing else could explain it. Maybe the forest demon had been a lot more careful than he'd portrayed himself to be. Or maybe this had been the plan all along?

Either way, Malcolm had to find Clover. And—he sighed at the thought—they would also have to somehow get Red out of whatever mess he'd gotten himself into, because surely that was the intruder the guard had been talking about. Part of him was annoyed, but another part was grudgingly thankful that the other boy had gotten caught before he did.

So, where to now? Malcolm mulled it over for a moment, then grimaced at the idea that came. He didn't know where Clover or Red were, but he had just come across people who did know where at least one of them was.

Hesitation would not do him good here, so Malcolm acted on the stupid idea he had before it was too late to act on anything, walking out of the hut and after the Councilmen. Risky, but what other options did he really have?

- - - — MKII — - - -

The Scouts had by now tried and failed to call anyone. Every time they tried, all anyone could hear was the droning tone of no signal.

Clover herself had tried calling or texting first Malcolm, then the Enforcement Bureau, then the Roxbury Outpost, and then, with the smallest bit of hope, that most crucial of contacts saved under the name "Captain." None of it had gone through.

"I don't remember it being this bad out here," she muttered.

"It's not," Daphne said. The woman glanced around at all of them, half with phones held up against waiting ears and the other half typing out messages that bounced back as soon as they were sent. "Stop it, everyone. It's no use. They obviously killed the connection."

"... They can do that?" Sam asked.

Daphne sighed, resigned. "I wouldn't put it past Silviamon."

"We have to do something." Clover stood, looking at the rest. Most avoided her gaze, eyes helplessly stuck on their phones. "We have to. Who else will?"

The door opened. Quieting down, the Scouts looked over to see Jahdiel there, glaring in at them.

At once Clover felt the impulse to rush the elf and make their escape, but a closer look led her to see several other guards standing right behind him, all ready for any trouble, amber spears already pointed forward. It didn't take long for her to recognize how effective it would be to run headlong into a bottleneck of sharp edges, and the Scouts around her seemed to understand it just as well, standing tersely and staring at their captors.

"I see you're all quite comfortable," Jahdiel said. "Good. I'm sure it would please you all to know that we've caught our intruder." He looked over his shoulder. "Bring him here."

Clover set downcast eyes at the bundle of torn flesh that a guard carried to the doorway, thinking Poor Malcolm, but when the body was tossed into the room her eyes widened at the sight of a completely different boy. Hands and legs bound by cuffs of hardened amber, Red landed harshly on the floor before them all and stayed there, dripping wet and covered with blood.

"Holy shit, they killed him," someone said, and Clover slipped her way through the crowd, rushing to see if it was true.

It wasn't. Clover knelt and rolled Red over, hand on his neck, finding—blessedly—a pulse. "He's breathing," she said, as surprised saying it as the Scouts were to hear it.

"Still looks pretty bad."

"Who even is this guy?"

"Hey, this means we can leave, right?"

That last question was directed at Jahdiel, and he met it with the same stern glare he'd been giving them all along. "Unfortunately, we still haven't determined that it's safe for you to come out," he said, each word ground out. "This boy isn't a danger any longer, as you can see. But there may be others. We'll keep you informed with any new developments."

Questions badgered him as soon as he finished talking—you're leaving him here, how does that make any sense, you still haven't brought any food—but Jahdiel merely stepped back and allowed the amber door to close before him, locking them in once more.

Turning around, the elf saw Harmony already looking at him, standing calmly at the center of the other room.

"We will need to feed them soon enough," they said. "I'll trust you to organize it."

"Aren't there better things to worry about?" Jahdiel grumbled. Around him, the other guards lowered their spears, and with a wave of his hand they melted back into the floor.

"There's no reason to be needlessly cruel," Harmony said. "Get it done."

Sighing, Jahdiel nodded at one of the guards. "Let the kitchens know to ready something." One salute and off they went. Then, Jahdiel noticed Dimple's gaze on him from the other end of the room, hand tugging nervously at Bessie's reins. "What are you looking at?"

Dimple glanced sideways, gulping, but after a moment he found the question. "Are those all the Scouts in there?"

"That's none of your concern."

Message received. Dimple looked down at his hooves, and like usual tried to just pretend like he wasn't there, but that strategy lasted all of two seconds before a booming clop reached their ears, one accompanied by an equally booming voice.

"Where is that idiot nephew of mine?!"

Oh god. Dimple tensed his shoulders, trying to shrink into himself. The clopping came closer and closer, until all too soon it barged right into the room, and suddenly Alexander was right there, horns almost grazing the roof. A meaty hand came up and pointed right at him, beady eyes curved into a tight glare.

"JOSEPH ASTERION, I SWEAR ON MY OWN MOTHER—"

"Enough."

Alexander stopped, sputtering as Harmony stepped before him. The fairy looked at the pointing finger, then up at his eyes, brow raised, and had his cheeks not been covered in a thin layer of fur everyone in the room could have seen them turn as red as his veiny neck.

"Your anger is misplaced, my friend," Harmony said. "For that, I apologize. Upon further investigation, it seems this Seedling did his duty after all."

"... Ah." Alexander glanced at Dimple, then back at Harmony, hand lowering. "I... Really?"

"Hard to believe, I know," Jahdiel sneered, arms crossed.

"Joseph here might be weak," Harmony said, "but he makes for a good distraction."

Dimple didn't raise his head, even when he felt his uncle's eyes settle on him again. He didn't allow himself to speak—stammering all over himself now would only make things go wrong. Better to let others handle it for him, even if it gave him some shame.

"Well..." Alexander hesitated, then put his hands on his hips. "Well then! Good! I had the utmost faith in the boy, of course!"

Jahdiel scoffed, and Dimple couldn't blame him. Alexander laughed awkwardly, saying "utmost faith" one more time for good measure before striding over and grabbing his nephew roughly on the shoulder. Dimple let himself get shaken around—not that he could've prevented it, with how big the older minotaur was.

"As heartwarming as this is, we should get onto business," Harmony said. "Is Silviamon with you?"

As if having waited for the question, said forest demon stepped into the room, escorted by the satyr guard who had fetched him and Alexander both. "I certainly am. And before you ask, the deed is done."

Harmony nodded. "Then the time has come," they said. Yellow eyes scanned everyone in the room, stopping the longest on their fellow Councilmembers. "Ten years. All for tonight."

It was enough to damper all of Alexander's good humor, and even curb the bit of snide contempt Silviamon always projected.

"Ten years," Alexander repeated.

"It has been quite a lot of work," Silviamon said, lips quirked.

Harmony clasped hands behind their back. "And tonight, the work ends." The fairy looked to Alexander. "I'll start the ritual as soon as I reach my quarters. Alexander, I trust you to handle any trouble that might come."

The minotaur huffed. "Do you expect much trouble?"

"We already had one surprise. Let's not get complacent now that we're so close." Turning, Harmony looked over at some of the waiting guards. "Half of you, with me. You too, Silviamon."

The forest demon grinned. "A front-row seat for little old me?"

"Your power might be needed. Jahdiel."

At this, the elf perked up. "Yes, Director?"

"Lorcana is unfortunately out of commission. Consider yourself promoted." Though Jahdiel stared, amazed, Harmony merely nodded. "Our High Council needs its Knight, if only a temporary one. Help Alexander with anything he might need. Don't disappoint me."

Jahdiel saluted. "I won't! Count on me, Director!"

"Then we start immediately." Harmony strode forward, and wordlessly the guards they had called on followed. Reaching Silviamon, Harmony paused, hand coming to rest on the forest demon's shoulder. One last look back at Alexander. "Operation Checkmate begins now. Let us celebrate its completion tomorrow."

Dimple saw Harmony and their entourage leave, head spinning. Operation Checkmate? Scouts all jailed in some room? None of it made sense, but it all felt wrong.

A hand settled on his head, ruffling his fur, and Dimple looked up at Alexander's sad smile.

"I'm sure you have questions," the older minotaur said. "But you must trust me, Joseph. Tonight, your father will be avenged."

"My father..."

"Ten years ago," Alexander said softly. "I know you've thought about that day as much as me."

Unbidden, Dimple was back then. He felt the heat, the rush of trees, the pain of his father's grip. The bright sun. The cozy warmth of a home long gone. Ten years ago.

Ten years ago...