I kicked open the doors and we walked inside.

The hallways were just the same:

blue,

long,

and annoying.

Memories flooded my  mind,

but I knew they weren't for Nate.

He scanned the hallways and mimicked my movements.

I observed the way he studied the halls:

not in a way Nate would.

He was never interested in school.

Never.

Not once when I walked these halls in high school did I ever see him smile.

Maybe was Bronwyn was around.

I put my hand in front of him and he stopped.

I turned myself in front of him.

"What's going on? Why are we stopping?" He asks.

"Tell me. Is this bringing back any memories for you?" I ask. 

He nods,

but his eyes were lying.

"At all?" I ask again.

He thinks about nodding, 

but shakes his head instead.

Instead,

he asks,

"I want you to show me everything old Nate would do."

Wow, talk about blunt.

I itch my chin.

I sigh softly and exhale.

"Okay. Follow me." I answer.

He obeys and follows me back up the hallways.

Once we get into the car,

we continue to drive and drive.

I hold the steering wheel tightly.

The roads passed by me like lightning.

It was still fascinating to me.

Then,

after a long time of driving,

we reach the next destination.

We step out of the car and walk on the gravel driveway.

The stone-brick, tall mansion stands in front of us.

"Whose house is this?" Nate asks.

I step forward and don't turn back.

"Bronwyn Rojas."  I answer, continuing forward.

He follow me,

intrigued,

to the door.

I knock and wait for a response.

"You know what we used to do here?" I ask.

He shakes his head.

"We used to have our murder-meetings here. Bronwyn came up with it. We would come here every week and try to investigate further what happened to Simon." I respond.

Bronwyn's father opens the door.

"Cooper Clay? Nate Macauley, is that you?" He asks.

"Hello, Mr. Rojas. Nate and I here were wondering if we could have a little wander around this house for a bit?" I ask in response.

He looks at me,

puzzled. 

We both glance at Nate.

"Amnesia." I say.

"Ah. I see." He answers.

"Come on in." 

We walk inside and Mr. Rojas goes upstairs.

The walls and paintings were still the same,

the same piano.

We walked into the living room.

"What happened to Simon?" Nate asks.

I look at him and then back at the halls ahead.

I continue on as he follows.

I sigh.

But I don't turn around,

yet again.

"Suicide." I answer, quietly.

He gasps.

"Did he-"

I turn my head around and walk backwards.

"Frame us? Why yes, yes he did." I answer.

Nate itches his arm and doesn't stop.

We hang around the house for a little while more.

We didn't do much.

I brought him there for memories,

but I don't think he'll ever be the same again,

no matter how much I try.

We heard the door open and close.

Then a giant crash.

Nate and I look at each other and run over to the doorway.

Blood.

Then we found her.

There she was,

pale as ever,

passed out on the ground and bloody.

We both got down on our knees and shook her.

"MAEVE??? MAEVE!" I scream. "QUICK, WE NEED TO GET HER TO THE HOSPITAL, SHE ISN'T BREATHING!"