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What do I know about Bryan Everdale?

I stood in my room, staring at the desk in front of me, the bulletin board above it decorated with photos and a web of red thread.

The main photo was at the center of the board, Bryan smiling, standing with the rest of the football team. Red threads stretched from the center photo and connected to the other four photos I collected. A picture of the clock tower, hovering over the town below, moss and vines decorating the cobblestone building, another of Bryan's parents standing on the lawn of their first home in Québec, Canada, third of Tori standing with Bryan in front of the towering Empire State Building, and the last of Kimberly Anderson's house.

"Bryan Everdale," I whispered to myself. "born in Québec, Canada at Jeffery Hale Hospital at 9:59 am. Due to complications, Bryan's mother, Stacy Everdale-Kingsly, had to have a C-Section. At age twelve, Bryan's sixteen-year-old brother, Mathew Everdale was killed by an unknown suspect. The police never found a body, but he was declared dead as they found his hand at the scene of the crime. It appeared to be sliced off by a hunting knife.

The only thing that seemed significant so far, was the murder. I'm trying to not assume, but I have a feeling Bryan was involved in it. Why else would his parents send him to America with his uncle unless something happened? You know, besides their son being brutally murdered?

I kicked the side of my desk, sending my chair spinning in circles.

Something wasn't setting well with me. If Bryan was involved why would he kill his brother? I rubbed my eyes. Then again, this may have nothing to do with the brother or the murder. Dad would know something, but it's not like I could...

Wait.....

___

Ted stood in the living room, sipping a cup of coffee, a cellular phone pressed against his ear.

"No, Sandra... I'm telling you..." Ted laughed. "No, the idiot shoved a ball of paper into the heater..."

A very scared-looking Norman tip-toed into the living room, hands posed to grab something behind Ted.

"Listen..." Ted laughed again. "No, the principal is such an idiot..." Norman's hand gripped Ted's bag. Ted turned. Norman yelped and jumped into an eave in the hallway wall. Ted laughed again.

"No, no... yes..! And then Norman said..." Ted suddenly notices Norman behind the hallway wall. Still laughing, Ted says to him, "Hey Norman, What was it you said to that idiot principal..?"

___

I coughed and hid Dad's bag behind my back.

"I, uh, told him to lay off the funny brownies." Ted laughed louder.

"Yes! That's what he said... oh, you didn't hear him? Well, he said..."

I walked off to my room, glad Sandra was one of the greatest distractions ever. I once set a curtain on fire when Sandra was home, Dad didn't even notice until about a week later.

My dad was a school teacher, so of course, most of the stuff was school stuff. Teacher edition textbooks, syllabuses, and school reports. After a bit of digging, I found a binder that wasn't for school stuff.

The sheet-white binder had been stuffed with weird pages. Three or four of them are dedicated to my Mom. Others appeared to be a giant criminal log, documenting almost every criminal in Manhattan. Almost an entire file was dedicated to the Chronicle. I pondered if I should look at the file, eventually deciding against it and putting it back. I laid back on my bed, the old thing squeaking under my weight.

I highly doubted my Dad would have a file on Bryan. Tori would know a lot about him, but I wasn't sure how I would explain this to her, let alone keep her from telling Bryan.

At this point, the only thing I was sure of was that I needed to see the clock tower. I wouldn't go in. But I'd spy on it a little bit.

___

The figure stood in the shade of the trees, watching the window at the side of the apartment slide open.

A toothy grin plastered the Chronicle's face, as he watched the skinny teenager climb down the fire escape.

"Soon," he whispered. 

Average Joe (2018)जहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें