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Chapter forty seven

Narrator's POV

The City, Aunt Darcy's House

He closed the journal. It was a waste of his time. The journal was teeming with ancient symbols he wasn't sure he could decipher. He was lost. He needed to know what happened. Ten years we're missing from his life.

Someone entered the room. Aunt Darcy did not speak, nor come close. She was studying him.

"I'm sorry, I went out", he apologized.

She laughed.

"Nothing, no, i... it just reminded me of when you were younger", she said, walking up behind him. She rested her hands on his shoulders, giving him a light massage.

"What was I like? "

"Alone. Always bracing forward to do new things. Luther, I'm just scared that someone out there might recognize you. You don't remember everything, so you can be framed for something you didn't do".

"But it was me who did these things... And I have to find a way to remember".

"I'm sure you will", she said giving him a hug from behind.

He watched her leave the room. He scribbled a name at the last pag
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