“So did Justin show you the summer schedule for that dance company?” Brian asks as he reaches for the wine. Molly puts down her fork, stating, “Justin is killing me with kindness.” Peering at his sister, Justin reaches over and pretends to look for something by her ear. “What are you doing?” she asks. “I’m looking for the switch to turn off ‘psycho brat’ and turn on ‘normal thirteen year old.’” He replies with a mock-tone of seriousness. Sticking out her tongue at him, she turns back to Brian. “He treats me like a child,” she argues. “You are a child,” Justin retorts before taking a bite from his meal. “I’m a teen-ager. You know, in some countries I could be married already.” Opening his mouth, Justin immediately closes it once again and returns to his food. Frowning, Brian takes another sip of wine. “Have you spoken to Detective Hovarth?” Molly asks suddenly. Brian clears his throat, “Yes.” “So what’s going on?” She asks. Justin looks up at Brian. He knew that his husband had spoken to Carl this morning, but didn’t ask what the conversation was about. Sighing, Brian shakes his head, “It’s hard to say.” “What do you mean?” Justin asks, ignoring his rapidly beating heart. “It depends who you ask,” Brian tries to explain. “What the fuck does that mean?” Molly asks with agitation. Someone from another table looks up and Justin quickly mouths, “Sorry” to the man. He gives an understanding smile to them and returns to his meal. “Verminder uw stem,” Justin says with a polite smile. “I will not lower my voice,” Molly announces. “Brian, what did Carl say?” She whines. “Molly, Brian will not tell us a fuckin’ thing if you don’t stop making a damn scene,” He hisses. Molly frowns and Brian is taken aback by the quiet force in his husband’s once calm voice. Turning to Brian, Justin asks, “So what does it all mean?” “It depends who you ask,” Brian starts over. “You said that already,” Molly exclaims with impatience. Sighing, Brian leans back, “Carl has been asking around and everyone has a different story. You’re supposedly dead, but that doesn’t give us any guarantees.” “What do you mean?” Justin asks. “Even with your names being different, Carl has no definite answer to whether or not it’s safe to return.” “This is crazy,” Turning to Justin, Molly repeats, “Dit is gek,” looking back at Brian, she asks, “So this is it. I have to talk in Dutch now, right? We’re screwed. We’re never going to be able to go back.” “That’s not what Brian is saying,” Justin says pensively. “He’s saying that Carl doesn’t have an answer. And that’s okay.” “How is that okay?” She asks. “Because I rather he be 100% sure than us going into a death sentence.” She’s silent for a moment. “Is the media still talking about us?” Justin asks. Brian shakes his head, “Lucky for you, there was some shooting that has taken precedence in the news. Hopefully in a month, Justin and Molly Taylor will be completely forgotten about.” “Unless someone at St. James Academy announces that we’re still alive.” Justin comments. “My friends would never do that!” Molly jumps in. “I’m not saying that they would do it intentionally, Moll! But there’s that chance. If word got out and somehow those guys found out that our murder was faked… what do you think will happen?” Justin shakes his head. “You’re being negative again, Justin,” Molly scolds. “Zwijg.” Justin replies with an eye roll. “Don’t tell me to shut up,” Molly argues. “Brian, tell Justin that he’s just been negative. No one is going to find out that we’re the Taylors.” “If it looks like a Taylor and acts like a Taylor…well, gee…” Justin begins as he reaches for his drink. Rubbing his face with his hands, Brian sighs, “All I am saying is that Carl doesn’t have an answer for us yet.” “Well that’s not good enough,” Molly states, exasperated. Justin sighs and decides to finish his wine in one gulp. They can always just call a taxi because he was planning on getting drunk until he passed out. “So we can’t go back, can we?” Molly asks. The tears immediately begin to form in her eyes. “I’m just saying that we need to be patient,” Brian says softly, wishing he had better news. “I finally want to go back home and now we can’t.” Molly whispers to herself. Pouring himself another glass, Justin suggests, “Sure we can, Moll. We just have to wait it out a little… let them forget about us and move on to something more important to them like killing pregnant women.” Brian frowns but doesn’t say a word. “That doesn’t make sense,” Molly says with a sigh as she shakes her head. “Life never does,” Justin announces thoughtfully. With a soft smile, he adds, “We can always just change our names again; you can dye your hair purple and instead of going to St. James, you can go somewhere else. We might have to stay away from Pennsylvania… but at least we’d be in the United States, right?” She frowns, “You’re a morbid drunk.” “You’ve said that before,” Justin acknowledges as he slowly sips his drink. “I’m not hungry anymore,” Molly announces. “I want to go home—er, to the apartment…” Defeated, she sighs, “Home.” Justin looks out towards the river: home.