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RICKY POV

1937, Boston, MA

I pulled up to the curb in front of the Boston Evening Transcript building and took a deep breath as I stepped out into the rain. The sun never seemed to come out anymore; only rain. I pulled my jacket up over my head to keep my hair dry at least. I switched my bag to my other arm as I entered the building, letting my jacket fall back into place and running my fingers through my hair. Today the boss was having a meeting in the conference room. We were losing income at an almost alarming rate. I was early, as usual. I set my bag down in my office and pulled out my papers. I was not messy by any means, but sometimes slightly disorganized. I never put any of the papers back into the appropriate folder, so they often got scattered to wherever.

My husband used to remind me to clean it out every once in a while, but I hadn't seen him for years. He'd been taken away from me long ago. I could only remember bits and pieces of what had happened.

He always worked late and walked since the house wasn't all that far away. One night he'd come home around 11:00 or so, covered in blood and panicking. I'd asked him what had happened, and he'd replied very brokenly. A man had been following him in an alleyway very suspuciously. He stopped to confront the man only to find that he had a knife. Out of fear and defense he had killed this man and left him in the alleyway. I was shocked, but I believed him, I knew that my Christopher was credible and trustworthy. The both of us had said nothing to anyone, we'd kept it between us. Soon enough the police had been asking around if anyone had seen this man or known of his whereabouts. I had stood in the doorway and shook my head solemnly, giving my best regards and sheltering the one I loved. He'd started to have trouble sleeping and having nightmares that he always awoke from terrified. I had tried my best to comfort him, pulling him close to me and letting him sleep on my chest. He did not get better; he then started to have little meltdowns during the day, some that I witnessed and some that I did not. The police had come by once again, but this time had pushed me out of the doorway and intruded my home. They took him away from me in handcuffs. I had cried, asking them why. They told me that there was a place for people like him; for people who were insane. My husband was not insane. The facility went by the name of The State Lunatic Hospital at Danvers. I was in utter disbelief. They told me that there was nothing that I could do. I was not able to see him off nor kiss him goodbye. I was still heartbroken over the event. I'd spent a good portion of my time researching this hospital, but there was very little to be found. I'd asked time and time again to travel out to the facility, but was denied every time. Spencer had told me that he felt it was too dangerous to cover, which only made me want it more.

A co worker of mine stepped into the room. "Spencer wants you present."

I nodded. "Thank you." I sighed and made my way down the hallway to the conference room. Spencer was at the head of the table, sipping away at his coffee. I would have killed for a cup right now. There were about ten other people present in the room.

He sighed and made his way to the front of the room where a colorful billboard was posted on the wall behind him.

I pulled the door closed behind me and cautiously took a seat. Spencer was the kind of person who could change moods on the turn of a dime. I'd never personally been on his bad side, and I wasn't about to try.

"I've called the few of you down here for a very important matter." He ran his hands through his hair and paused. "Our business is tanking, we're doing terribly, just absolutely awful. The papers aren't selling anymore, and why?" He gripped the table roughly. "Because we're not interesting enough. There's nothing worth reading. The paper's become a dog bedding, quite literally. I'm giving you each a chance to pull it together or you're all fired." He stormed out.

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