RETURNING FROM THE STORE WITH ESSENTIAL CARE PRODUCTS, clothing, and shoes, Jackie arrived at the entrance of the complex.
"I hope I didn't take too long. I wasn't really sure which sizes to get him, so I ended up having to ask a boy his size. Ugh, I can't believe I made him work all day in nothing but those cheap slide-ons! I'm such an idiot! I–"
Jackie paused upon realizing she had stepped on something.
"What's this?"
She knelt down, picking up a wood plank. She looked around, wondering where it could've come from, when finally she noticed an open door on the second story—apartment 230 had been broken into.
Nearly dropping everything, she began rushing up the stairs to see what had happened.
Did someone break in and rob the place? she thought to herself, her heart pounding uncontrollably as her body trembled with fear.
Reaching the entrance of apartment 230, she laid eyes on someone standing in the living room with their back to her.
"Hey, what are you–" she hesitated, realizing who the person was.
"Kid?"
Slowly, Noir turned around, holding two framed photos in his hand. One was of a woman and child that he felt resembled him. The other was Jackie with two other women and a man.
"Even though I'm unsure as to why, even I can tell that all of me isn't here—at least not in the way it might've been before. But something kept telling me to come here, to this room. And when I finally got the chance to, I came in and found these pictures. I might not be able to remember anything about my life before waking up in the swamp, but I couldn't help feeling like I might've known the people in these photos at some point in life." Noir paused for a moment before continuing. "Jackie, do you know who I am?"
When he turned around, Jackie saw the vessel around his neck, lying flat against his chest. But something about it felt different—off in a way she couldn't quite place.
"What? I have no idea who you are," she said, taking up her guard. "I don't know what it is you're looking for, but you sure as hell won't find it here."
"Jackie," a voice whispered to her. "It's been too long."
"Mona?" Jackie replied instinctively, her voice cracking as she lowered her guard.
Even after all these years, Mona's voice was unmistakable to her.
"Yes, it is me, my friend."
"I–but how?"
Jackie reached toward the vessel, her hands trembling, unable to form a sentence. But realization struck, and she pulled away, placing a hand over her mouth and stomach—the terror enough to upset her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stepped back, holding onto the wall. She was overwhelmed by a storm of emotions, her confusion deepening.
"That symbol. Mona, you didn't," Jackie cried out in agony, her worry barely escaping her lips. "You promised you wouldn't. This can't—It can't be. We all agreed that Liability's Accord was forbidden!" she shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Jackie," Mona spoke softly—despite the heavy guilt in her voice, her words drew Jackie's attention as if they demanded it. "I know I've been selfish, but if I could do so just once more and ask that you remember our promise. It would mean the world to me, especially considering that my world has been brought right before you. I know I didn't keep my part of the promise and disobeyed yours and Marcelo's wishes, but please once again be the sister I never had and keep yours. Protect my sweet boy until the very end, just as I did."
As Noir made his way over to Jackie, a grandfather clock somewhere in the apartment began to toll, signaling midnight. Suddenly, the vessel hanging from his neck began to singe and burn, dropping from its rope. As it disintegrated into nothingness, a blue flame engulfed it before it could even reach the floor.
Noir had no idea why, but as the vessel burned away, he began to feel warmer inside. He still couldn't remember anything from his past, but it felt as though a massive knot in the back of his head had been massaged away.
"Jackie, are you okay?"
Jackie's eyes widened as she froze in the midst of her breakdown. The voice she heard washed over her like a cool wave—not as something new, but as something achingly familiar. Her gaze drifted to the photos in Noir's hands, and for a moment, she didn't see the young man standing before her. She saw a child.
A strange sensation settled over her—not the erasure of grief, but a shift, a reframing. It wasn't as if her mourning had been undone, but rather, it had taken on a new shape, layered with something deeper. A light—one that didn't diminish her pain but added complexity to the long journey she'd endured since losing the second family she had found in the Bordeauxs'.
"You're," she whispered, her hands trembling as they reached toward him.
Noir stepped closer. Close enough to be within her grasp.
"Noir," her voice broke. "My little fiyo."
Jackie pulled him in, holding him tight.
"Of course I know who you are."