After hearing that sentence, Ralph's eyes flickered to Oliver, but he remained silent. Then, after a couple seconds, they returned to the list. Lowering his head, he seemed to glance at the list thoughtfully before shaking his head.
Turning to the previous page, the two of them read the article from the top.
"So such a thing happened two years ago."
Reaching the bottom first, Oliver sighed before passing the book to Ralph. Then, reaching for the news book he had taken, he continued reading.
"By the way, from where do you get these books?"
Asking as casually as he could, Oliver's eyes never strayed from the page. Beside him, I waited for Ralph to finish reading and pass me the book back.
"From my neighbor. She curates all the news for the day and pastes the good ones in a news book. Next time, I'll let you meet her."
Turning to the next article, the three of us continued to read our own news books until we heard several loud knocks coming beyond the door.
Exiting the room as a group, we opened the door to see June standing at the door. Her breaths came out in white puffs, and the moment her eyes met Ralph's, they lit up with a smile.
"Come, it's time to go home."
Reaching out her hand, Ralph took it, and the two waved goodbye towards us until they entered their own apartment. After they disappeared from sight, I pulled the door closed and headed to the kitchen.
"It seems that Mom and Dad are going to be late, so we should cook dinner ourselves."
Grabbing a pot, I turned the tap on, and filled it up quarterway with water. Then I put it on the stove and grabbed a few ingredients from the cupboard. Slicing them up, I dropped them into the pot. Then, once I was done, I turned my attention to Oliver and saw him standing at the cupboard, a bottle of weeds in his hands. He narrowed his eyes as he glanced at it, turning it around in his hands to closely observe the ingredients within.
"Have you never entered the kitchen before?"
Wiping my hands on my shirt, I walked up to him as he released the bottle from it's interrogation.
No, I have. It's just..."
As he trailed off, his gaze clouded, seemingly immersed in a memory of his past, before snapping out of it and changing the topic.
"What time do you think Elaine and Van will return?"
Letting it slide, the two of us walked back to the pot and took a bowl for ourselves.
"I'm not sure. Usually, they never take this long."
I thought back to what I had overheard them say. Usually, when there is a Faction meeting, only my father goes. At least, that's what I assume, since I almost never see my mother go out of the house except for the occasional shopping trip. But based on the expression I had seen on my mother's face before she left, I felt that that was going to change soon.
"The calm before the storm"
Muttering this phrase, Oliver took a ladle and scooped some of the soup into his bowl. Then, passing that bowl to me, he filled up the other bowl and walked towards the table. After the two of us sat down at the table, we sipped our soup in silence.
My father's words about Andrew rang in my mind. Unconsciously staring at Oliver, I couldn't help but feel the deep blue wave that bubbled up from within. Oliver had just lost his sister, and now his only remaining family has been imprisoned. Not only that, to add insult to injury, based on the tone my father had said Andrew's name in as well as the shaking of his head after words, something much worse was probably about to occur.
"Something on my face?"
Snapping out of it at Oliver's words, I avoided his eyes and buried myself in my soup. In response to this, he raised his eyebrows but didn't choose to pursue it.
The moment we finished our meal, we headed towards the sink to wash our dishes. Then, after leaving them out to dry, we were about to head to our room when the doorbell rang.
"Strange. We didn't order anything."
Freezing, I stared at the door and slowly headed towards it. Leaning against it, I peered through the small hole in the door and saw a man standing there with a box in his hands. Although he was facing straight, from where I was looking, I could see his eyes flickering left and right.
"There's a suspicious person outside."
Stepping back from the door, I whispered in Oliver's ear as he took my place. However, when he saw the person, he opened the door without hesitation.
Reaching out my hand, I froze as the man showed no obvious reaction and passed the box to Oliver. He even smiled and had the courtesy to ask whether we needed help placing it.
Turning around to face me, I saw several thoughts flashing through Oliver's eyes before he declined the man. And after a short word of thanks, the man left the box in front of us. Then, with a tilt of the brim of his cap and an uncomfortable glance in my direction, he left.
"Someone you know?"
Approaching the door after the suspicious man was gone from sight, I headed to the other side of the box and helped Oliver shift it inside the house. After leaving it on the floor, I locked the door.
"No. But he should be the delivery man one of my connections called for."
Carrying the box, the two of us waddled over to the room, and Oliver gestured for me to place it on the bed. Then, without hesitation, he used his nails to grip the tape and tear the box open.
Inside the box were two neat stacks of papers. Taking the first one out, Oliver skimmed through the title before placing it aside. Curious, I leaned forward to read it and immediately felt an incoming headache.
'The physiological and chemical differences in the neural circuits between the average population and victims suffering from Moral Deficiency with the tendency for Violent Actions.'
Just as I finished reading the title, the next set of papers was set next to this one.
'Investigation records of the differences between the economic, psychological and emotional status of normal population from each street.'
The moment I finished reading that title, another paper was set on top of that one, and I looked up as Oliver sorted the papers into three different sets. The first one looked to be scientific reports; the second was 'investigation' reports, whatever they were; and the last stack was what looked to be miscellaneous papers.
Each stack had different symbols. The scientific reports mostly had the symbol representing the research center; the investigation reports had a variety of symbols, but the most recognizable would be those from the police. The last stack was the most confusing, though. Some of the papers had research center symbols, some had the police symbol, and there were many more unfamiliar symbols. But the majority of them were blank.
Finally, as Oliver placed the last paper in it's stack, he dismantled the box and slid it somewhere.
"Are you curious about what these are?"
Smiling as he took each stack and straightened them.
"I would be lying if I said I wasn't."
I watched as he carefully took the papers and walked over to the bookshelf. Then, after making some space by pushing the newsbook aside, he placed the first stack on the shelves.
"The first stack contains scientific papers sent by my contact at the research facility. I think you should have heard of the group of researchers searching for a cure for MDVA; these papers are the ones they wrote."
Pushing the papers deep inside, as if to hide them from the world, Oliver then took the next stack and placed it in front of the previous stack.
"These papers are 'investigation' papers. They usually come from bodies with authority, like the police or the doctor's association. They don't seem directly related to the research side, but there are a set of researchers who are part of these organizations and are in charge of surveying various other types of data that normal researchers cannot. Since most of their audiences are out of reach of normal researchers."
As if to show me an example, Oliver tilted one of the papers and showed me it's title.
'Investigation into the relationship between the percentage of inametes with MDVA-afflicted relatives'
Letting the paper fall back onto the shelf, Oliver took the last set and made some space for it on another shelf.
"The last set is a little more hard to define. You could call them miscellaneous or papers written by 'unregistered' persons. But the majority of them are records left by those who had the misfortune of living with an MDVA victim."
Pushing this set back onto the shelf, he covered it with several books. Then, facing me, he put a finger on his lips.
"Everything here is sensitive information, so you can't tell anyone about this."
Nodding my head, I gave a worried look at the second set of papers that just seemed to be there, unhidden, on the shelf. Reaching over, I moved several news books before moving that set to the back.
"This should be all the papers for now. Luckily, Elaine and Van were out today. If not, the delivery person might have to secretly send me a note describing where the collection point would be."
Seeing him dump himself on the bed in a show of exhaustion, my gaze flickered between the bookshelf and Oliver before I sat down beside him.
"If the papers are so confidential that Mom and Dad can't even know of their existence, why would you blatantly show them in front of me?"
Looking at him in confusion, I saw his mouth tilt into a smile as he leaned back on the bed.
"I can't possibly hide these many papers from you. How am I going to read them?"
With a playful grin, Oliver diverted his gaze toward the ceiling.
"And I have a feeling I can trust you. Not that I don't trust Elaine and Van, but adults have their own circumstances."
Eyes closing at that statement, I could feel a soft sadness radiating from him. Then those black eyes opened, and the mask was on once again.
"It's getting late. We should wash up and sleep."
Taking the towels from the bookshelf, the two of us exited the room to shower. However, before I left, I couldn't help but glance at the bookshelf again. Oliver's words echoed in my head as I remembered the scene of him sitting on the bed, diligently sorting through those papers. The seriousness and concentration in his eyes were admirable, yet there was also sadness present.
For a mere boy who was just seven to lose his entire family basically overnight, it must have been unbelievably tough for him. Closing my eyes, I could feel the small shard of jealousy in my heart break into a million pieces. Then, opening my eyes, I looked away and closed the door, following Oliver as he headed to the bathroom.
Why is God so Unfair?