"Young Moira, are you alright?" Staul asked as they hopped in his truck.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. Mr. Dante, what do you know about my parent's deaths?"

The old man frowned as he drove. "I know quite a lot, unfortunately. Why do you ask?"

The girl sighed. "Then do you know anything regarding The Conductor?"

Staul remained silent for a time. He glanced over to see Moira's determined face. "Why are you asking about the man who killed your parents?" Staul questioned back returning his focus to the road.

"The letter," Moira replied. "The letter my brother received was signed –The Conductor-. You know this; I read it to you earlier."

Staul sighed as he drove into the cemetery. "That man is still in prison. So there should be no reason for him to appear again now."

"I'm worried," Moira stated. "Despite how much everyone has told him otherwise, that man tormented my brother. Jericho has only recently started to genuinely smile on his own without me needing to be happy first. Even if I am not afraid of The Conductor, my brother is."

Staul nodded. "Your brother is strong. But because of what happened, he believes that your parent's death is his fault."

Moira frowned. "But why can't he see past that?"

Staul sighed. "I don't really know; but I do know that once a belief forms, it is hard to break. The only thing he has ever told me is that someone like him doesn't deserve happiness because it brings misery to others."

"Stupid," she muttered as she looked out the window.

They sat in silence as they drove over the curb to enter the cemetery. The headstones, monuments, and leafless trees were barely visible through the hazy clouds. The old man nodded as he pulled into a parking spot. They walked out of the car and continued to walk the short distance to the familiar Larson family headstones.

"He told me that there are secrets he has kept from you about himself and your parent's deaths. Little Jerry probably hasn't told you because they might affect your happiness. You know he would do anything to make sure you were able to live a happy life."

Moira scoffed. "Yes, he would."

"You seem upset by that. Why?"

Moira clenched her fists. "How can he expect me to be happy when he is constantly suffering for my sake? Does he think I'm blind? Does he think I haven't seen him fill my bowl up with soup and leave only a tiny amount for himself? I… I feel guilt every time I see it. Every time I know he has sacrificed something on my behalf. Why? Why am I more important to him than himself?"

Staul chuckled. "Little Moira, you sound just like him. The other day he said almost the exact same words about you. "Why am I more important to her than she is to herself? Why does she strive to help me find happiness when she should focus on her own?"

The young girl remained silent.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts a bit. I know it is a lot to take in." Staul walked back towards the keeper house to find some gardening tools.

The young 12 year old stared at the graves. She wept. "Thank you, Mr. Dante for telling me that." She lifted her hand and pointed. "When you point fingers, often times you are unknowingly pointing to yourself as well. Brothers, I'll try to do better. I hope you will too."

Staul hastily returned with his genius watch showing a holographic picture of Jericho on the other side.

"Moira!" Jericho's voice called out.

The girl turned. "Brother? What's wrong?"

"Hurry and come back home! You are in danger!" Jericho shouted.

A light flashed through the fog and pierced through Mr. Dante.

The fog shuttered as Moira cried out in horror. The grave keeper turned pale and collapsed.

Despite her smaller stature, she rushed forward to try and catch him.

A second light flashed. She felt unimaginable pain and her world turned dark.

***

The beeping of various monitors and equipment echoed in the small, clean hospital room.

Moira stirred. "Uhng," she groaned.

"Moira, you're awake!" Jericho shouted quietly.

The girl turned to face her brother. She looked into his dark empty eyes. "Jericho? No… You are Gathlau."

"Yeah, it's still me, disappointed?"

"I feel really weak and numb. Where are we?" she inquired as she tried moving the various parts of her body with little success.

"Wilmington Hospital; you are currently heavily medicated to numb the pain of both your injury and the solution to solve it. Don't try to move too much right now," Gath replied as his left hand tightly clenched the bar on the edge of the hospital bed. "You and Staul were shot. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have selfishly asked for some alone time."

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Moira weakly lifted her hand and flicked her brother's forehead with a chuckle. "Let me quote you, my 2nd brother. If needs are selfish, than where does that put people? Aren't you here because Jericho also needed time?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, you're right. He wouldn't come out to face reality. Even for me, it is still hard to see you like this." His grip tightened on the hospital bed bar.

Moira took a breath and looked seriously at her brother. "Gath, I have an important question for you and you also owe me an explanation. Is Jericho…?"

Gathlau shook his head. "He isn't cohabitating this time. When he comes back out, he won't remember anything that has happened today. If he was, I wouldn't have to write him a letter explaining everything. Jericho is currently still in our happy place writing a new Death Metal song. Your third brother has been complaining how awful the lyrics are."

The girl lightly snorted at the commentary and rested her hand on her brother's clenched fist. "Then stop pretending, please. I have wanted to get to know the two of you but you are always acting and the other won't show himself in front of me."

"True enough," Gath replied.

"When he shows up, your instruments get spewed everywhere and he shuts all the blinds. What was his name again?"

"Mingan; and yeah, he is afraid to show himself to you. He is afraid to show himself to all mortals," he said emphasizing the word mortals. "Truly; his words, not mine."

She chuckled. "Yeah, Jericho mentioned something about Mingan claiming to be a spirit of the wild or something strange like that."

"He is odd, even I have a hard time understanding him half the time."

The girls sighed. "There is something I have been curious about. Why do you take on Jericho's middle name? From what I've heard that is unusual."

Gath hesitated. "Because I'm... I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

Moira gave him a look that showed she was not amused. "Gathlau, tell me about yourself."

"But, Moira, I promised him," Gath replied.

"He doesn't have to know. Besides, how is it fair? I'm your little sister too. I'm 12 now. I can handle the truth." Moira inhaled. "I know how you act when you are pretending to be Jericho, but I have wanted to get to know you, too. It has been six years and I still know very little about you."

Gathlau quivered and his grip loosened. He had wanted to be real with her but believed he couldn't. "I know my aggressiveness scares you. Unlike Jericho, I am not a nice person. The fiend that was mentioned in the note this morning is me. Are you sure you really want to see me for who I am?"

Moira sighed. "Didn't you tell me once that all three of you were all the same person, just broken? How can I understand that, if you and Mingan are constantly hiding? How am I supposed to understand my brother if the two of you, who are vital parts of him won't let me understand?"

Gathlau turned his face in embarra.s.sment. "Alright; since it is you that is asking, I'll try to stop acting when Jericho isn't watching and I will try to convince Mingan to at least show himself."

"Good," she replied.

The man sighed. "I have been meaning to ask, Moira. How is it that you can tell us apart so easily? It's uncanny, we don't even have to speak and you seem to just know."

"Others can't see it, but your words, your postures, and your att.i.tudes are all different. But the most noticeable difference is your eyes. Jericho has fairly normal brown eyes. Your eyes lose their color and become dark brown that it almost looks black. I suspect Mingan's eyes are also different," she explained. "But since I have never seen him, I don't know."

"How odd," he replied.

The medication numbing Moira started to wear off. Pain seared the base of her back. Her mind screamed at the burning sensation. "Ah!" she cried out before taking a few stabilizing breaths. "My back," she hissed.

The calm mask was dropped when the minstrel's knuckles turned white with fury. Dark thoughts clouded his mind.

"This pain…" The girl cried. "What happened?"

Gathlau reminded himself that his anger wasn't useful to him right now and took a calming breath before answering. "The lazergun that shot you melted the lowest bone in your spine. You recently got out of surgery where they implanted a new one. However, you will be in pain for a long time."

"Then what about Mr. Dante?" she forced out between painful breaths.

"The shooter wasn't aiming to kill either of you," he said. "Staul is fine. According to the police that came with me to find you, the shooter was aiming to make you suffer and by proxy make us suffer too."

Moira frowned at the news. "What do you mean?"

"You won't be able to use your legs much for a few months; and… You won't be able to dance with your legs or back for at least a year. The doctors said that the wound hit all the wrong spots and so your treatment is going to take a lot of time and rest. The shooter was a professional."

As the young girl received the news, allowing it to sink in, she looked away and started to bawl.

The man sat awkwardly as he stared at his crying sister. Gathlau heard Jericho's voice in his head. -I turned the lights back on…- He outwardly sighed with a few tears of his own. "Moira, Jericho is back." He closed his eyes and opened them again.

Jericho's irises regained a bit of their former vibrancy. "Moira!" he shouted aloud as a folded up paper crunched in his right hand.

The girl spoke between sniffles and sobs. "I'm fine, brother. Your alt wrote you a note. You should read it."

Jericho sighed in relief and looked at the paper in his hand.

—"Jericho, I know there is a lot you have missed and so I am writing this to inform you of the most crucial pieces of information. Since while I don't care for your sniveling, I care about Moira."

"How unusually considerate of Gathlau to write down the things I have missed," Jericho whispered to himself.

—"Firstly we are now in debt. I spent it all to save Moira's future. I know you would have done the same. At least despite how many of us there are, there are still only two mouths to feed.

Secondly Moira's recovery time is estimated to be a year. During that year she will have very little to no use of her legs. The doctors found out we were playing Freedom and recommended that we let Moira spend most of her time this year in-game as it will help the treatment. It will help her body rest and heal. Looks like you will have to keep ignoring grandpa's warnings if you want to spend time with her. I know she'll want it."

Jericho slumped. "Moira, how much has he told you?"

Moira grabbed the tissue and blew her nose; "about my current condition? Everything," she replied. "I know that I won't be dancing in real life for a long time."

Jericho frowned and continued to read.

—"Thirdly, Mingan wanted me to tell you that your lyrics this time sucked. Good try though.

Fourthly, I have programmed a number into your contacts. This goes beyond your hate for me. Call Him! You, Me, Mingan, and Moira all need his help. If you don't call him, I will show Moira our secret and call him myself. Because you still cannot embrace me, you definitely need HIS help. So don't be dumb; follow my instructions. You know I am serious. So sue me…

Fifthly, the two officers who we have been talking to are Detective Lance and Officer Smith. We reported the crimes that have occurred and have written our witness statements. I don't know why but Detective Lance seems oddly familiar.

Sixthly, the man who was The Conductor last time is still in jail. However the threat itself isn't hollow. You lost your job and then Moira got hurt. It seems whoever is behind this has been planning for a while now. Yay! Our latest adventure isn't to blame!

Seventhly, outside of the tea we drank this morning, we haven't eaten anything. So if you are starving, that is why.

Your Favorite Mind Buddy- Gathlau"

"Sarcastic Hypocritical Jerk," Jericho muttered as he also couldn't hold back the tears. His intestines groaned.

"Brother I'll be fine, go find some food," the girl ordered.

"Yes ma'am." Jericho replied to lighten the mood ever so slightly. He left the room.

Moira sat in the hospital bed and looked over at the sunset. Darkness filled the once glorious sky. ♪ "The night won't last forever, so we'll forever dance!" ♫ she sung quietly to rea.s.sure herself. "Conductor, you dared to threaten my brother. You dared to bring him despair. This darkness you have plunged me in will pa.s.s, and you will regret your choice. n.o.body messes with Jericho!" She lifted her watch and pulled open a music playlist. Jericho's various lullabies soothed her back to sleep.