8:00 AM (GMT8)
Hair flows over her shoulders, messed up in all sorts of directions. Waking up as early as she does, starting the day with her fingers clicking against the keyboard. The tan folders of information sprawled across the covers. Opened up with their contents, papers of events that happened years ago. Amelia's legs dangle over the bottom of the bed. Sat with her legs crossed, laptop on top of her lap.
She pushes up her reading glasses, eyebrows furrowed over her eyes in frustration. The documents she had on hand were not what she had thought she would have received. There was little to no useful information, nothing to give her any suspects as to who knew of her past. Ellis had mentioned searching through other databases: how could she have gotten so little?
"I don't think all the information I had was enough.. And I seemed to have misplaced the files." Her head turns back to look at Dallas. Sound asleep under the covers, hair swept over his forehead. He was peaceful, she didn't want to wake him.
Amelia sighs, looking back to her laptop. "I'm being so careless nowadays."
Emotions were running high, it was disappointing that she had become so careless with her movements. Receiving the folder from Ellis it felt heavier, more content to be looked over. Now having everything sprawled out in front of her, it was useless. No where closer to being a step ahead of her mysterious enemy. She would not admit defeat even with this set back, but it had her wondering.
How much information was out there, or was this person living off of memory?
A possible closer tie than just hatred, being in her presence to then have their lives destroyed. A friend, a best friend, a lover. She didn't want it to be any of the options, but it became more likely. Her trust of those around her was already thin, the thread was almost about to break. Who could she trust when the worst was just around the bend?
The mouse moves over to another tab, logging into her emails and she begins to go through them. Deleting the spam, cleaning out her trash, giving reponses to work emails. All the emails were basic ones she would get, easily being able to get through a page before clicking to the next.
Cursor scrolling down the unread messages, rolling her eyes at the stupid messages filling her inbox. Until one catches her eye, she pauses.
Pushing her glasses up, she leans forward to her computer screen. It was an email she had never seen before in her inbox: 'themask@gmail.com' in bold lettering. Next to the email, the subject line.
Only one word: Fire.
Amelia's eyes widen, quickly clicking on the email to open it. There was no text, only two separate links. No context of what was inside of them, just a blank page other than the links highlighted in blue.
Moving her mouse over the first link, she clicks it. Waiting for the page to load, Amelia is met with an article. Outdated from the looks of it, made more than a decade back. The top of the article page has a house in flames. Completely destroyed, pieces of wood and glass sprawled across the glass. Flames bursting out of every window, every hole. It was an awful scene, someone's life burned into flames.
A title in bold letters: 'FIRE ON RESPECTED SOCIETY MEMBERS: CHILDREN SURVIVE'.
Brows pull over her eyes in a frustrated expression. An article about a fire went awry, why was it sent to her email? With no context about the links, she had no idea how to determine the purpose. The photo and article was decades old, the case of arson would have been solved.
Her finger scrolls on the pad, moving the article further down onto her screen. As she sits in her own silences, Dallas stirs in the bed behind her. Whipping her head back to look at him, he was still sound asleep. Fixing himself and groaning, before falling back into silence.
Amelia breathes out a sigh of relief, turning back to look at the article. On her screen was a large paragraph, quietly reading.
'Police of the State of Wyoming responded to a code 10-72 at the residence of Clara and Kenneth Linch. The 911 call was made by the youngest child of the couple (Dallas Linch; picture of family on page 3) who was alerted of the flames growing as his bedroom was the closest to the living room of their small scaled home.'
'"I smelled the smoke from my own bedroom, my father taught me that if I sense danger to get my brother and just run."'
'That is exactly what this young boy did, with his brother Zackary Eric Linch (age 8). We give our condolences to the family, as the children are now sent to the Prolaser Orphanage, waiting to be adopted. The Wyoming police have released a statement:'
'"The police of Wyoming are here to confirm the tragic cause of death was a single candle lit in the family's living room. We send our prayers and love to the children In which now have to live with no parents."'
'Chief of police; Lewis Larte
Turn to page 4 for a glimpse of a family portrait.'
Amelia follows the directions at the end of the page, clicking on the link connected to the last phrase. Scrolling down once more she finds a family portrait. Stood together was a family of four: a mother, father, and two sons. Even after reading the first page of the article her eyes widened in shock.
In front of the two parents, stood her lover and his older brother. Young children, with bright smiles spread across their faces. Dallas instead of his purple hair, had dark brown locks that swooped over his forehead. While his brother Zackary had black hair, pushed back with some form of gel. Dressed to their very best, in front of their parents. Clara and Kenneth Linch, both beautiful as a pair. Clara had dark brown hair that went down to her back, pale skin with pigments of rosey red on her cheeks. Clips push back strands of her hair, her dress the color of teal and grays. She was beautiful, perfection all on her own.
Kenneth looked like a strong man, freshly shaven for the photos. His hair was a dark black, pushed back like one of his own sons. Dressed in a suit of the best quality, hands behind his back next to his wife. All the while the two boys held onto a small puppy, a lab.
A smile tugs on her lips. "What a beautiful family.." Amelia whispers to herself, staring into the bright eyes of her lover's childhood photo.
Dallas rarely spoke of his parents, but she had known they had passed away tragically. Forcing him and his brother to be placed into the system, before being adopted by a highly respected member of society: a police officer. It was what he deserved after all of the hardships he faced as a child. Being poor, rarely having the money to afford things other kids had. Toys, fancy new clothing, even high priced foods.
He was a strong man, it must have stemmed from his childhood. Amelia respected him so much more after knowing a part of his story.
She clicks off the website, being put back into the email. Amelia hovers her cursor over the second link and clicks it. This site had an entire different appeal to it, a darker aura over its contents. In black and white was a picture of the two boys, arms wrapped around each other in a bear hug. It looked innocent enough, until Amelia's eyes catch the title.
'8 YEAR OLD SERIAL KILLER: A NEW ARSONIST?'.
Her expression changes from her smile, to confusion. She strolls down, continuing to read.
'The recent fire at the home of Clara and Kenneth seemed to be a tragic accident. But how is it? A single candle untouched could not have set a fire as big as the one in their residence! Their youngest son, Dallas Linch was superior in intelligence, that child skipped two grades! How could a child be so calm after his parents were murdered in a fire?'
The words have her stomach tying in knots, yet she strolls further down. Being met with pictures of the house, completely destroyed. Not just from the outside, but the inside as well. Tables are barely there, curtains are burnt from the bottom. The floor is covered in ashes, embers on top of pieces of clothing and toys. It was a truly saddening scene, even if the photos were in black and white.
She could only imagine how the bodies looked, the poor parents of those two boys. Being trapped inside of their home as it burned around them. Amelia wouldn't wish that fate on anyone, not even her worst enemy.
Yet the article thought that Dallas, at the time an eight year old boy had committed two murders. Killed the two people who loved him the most, gave him life. A young, innocent boy who would never hurt a soul. Even now after so many years.
"Jesus Christ.. These people really think an eight year old could kill his parents?"
Again she scrolls, there's another section. The title reads: 'MOTIVE'?' in bold print. Amelia pushes her glasses up her nose, leaning closer to the screen.
'The motive is poverty, his parents; their parents were poor. Almost flat out broke, so what does the boy do? He sets his own house on fire. Think about the crime scene, the Wyoming police said in their police report that the parents were unable to escape their room. How could they not if their doors were unlocked? The boy must have put–'
"Amelia.. What are you doing up so early?"