Corners of the map

The universe, the cosmos is a funny place. When bad luck comes it is followed by a series of unfortunate events but good luck lasts for moments only. Anne's day filled with the aroma of Mrs. Woods' cooking dipped in her old stories of a younger self and topped with Benjis innocent yet funny remarks while the world drowned in sadness of the weather and sheets of snow. Although Anne's world was slowly building up in the dark sunsets and beautiful moonlight in the small town of pines fall there were places out of that town, that city, that country where worlds were being shaken, tested and ended. Winter tests people's courage and patience.

So, with a distance of an ocean between Pines Fall and a small suburb of the New York City a man dressed in khaki stood in the street. The weather was brutal but it hadn't snowed that day. The tip of his nose was numb with the cold and there was drowsiness in his eyes. Dreamily he looked up hands in the pockets of his khaki overcoat. The dry wind blew and he stuck out his hand to greet the wind as a gift from his lover. He picked up pace and entered a nearby café. Taking a good look around the empty room, he chose the corner table nearest to the window. The café was not too fancy. Its walls were decorated in pastel green and hazel brown which were slowly fading away. There was a counter where the two waitresses were chatting not expecting anyone that day. As he walked in they greeted him and a young high schooler who may have been working there as a part-timer took his order while he looked away outside the window. He ordered black tea and then stared at the screen of his phone. He typed a message and deleted it, typed again and deleted it this act was repeated thrice and frustrated he put his phone away and leaned back in the chair. Head against the back wall. How could he tell her that; he had waited a year and now he was running out of patience and time. He saw the worst possible consequences of his choice and he saw the results it could bring. He had to go through with his plan. His blue eye twitched in pain. The eye bags under his eyes were massive.

"Mr. Lawson" the cute waitress with ice-cold eyes smiled as she brought him his tea.

He looked at her and returned the gesture of smile. The young girl stared into his eyes and realizing her prolonged look quickly placed the tea and turned away blushing with embarrassment. Yes, he was very handsome. Tall, lean, pale and high cheekbones with a fine jawline. The hair was darker than night. Besides that, he was blessed with the eyes of two colours. He laughed to himself. It was amazing to see people's responses. He again shifted his gaze to his phone and with a firmness that could be felt in his fingers he typed.

"I am going through with it, I love you but this is just more than me and you. I do hope you will understand." he lovingly looked at her contact saved as Mrs. me.

Putting his phone aside he took a sigh of relief and sipped his tea. The steam and aroma of it warmed the tip of his nose and his heart he felt beating after a long time. He stretched his legs while sitting, now facing a single path. It was up to her to decide whether she let him be alone or accompany him.

A detective had started his case.

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Elsewhere, in some corner of the city, a boy lingered, his pace quick and breath exhausted. The cold air froze his lungs as he inhaled. A slight headache took over. He turned into an abandoned alley. Onyx eyes staring at the stone grey exterior of a building. Defeated he fell onto his knees. The guilt, that he was running away from while aimlessly wandering about the area, had caught up on him He could see her pleading eyes. Mercy. But it was not in his will to stop what was written. He had been taught that. His defeated pose burdened him further guilt. Three lives lost and yet he had not gained inner peace. He wanted his revenge. He got it but what use was it when he couldn't even see clearly. Wherever he looked he saw the gallows. He imagined the rope tightening around his neck but it never did. Blood trickled down his nose. The vision blurred and soon darkness took over. Consciousness lost and the rope his old friend showed up again.

He lay there in the cold street the only words that escaped his lips were,

"Anne... I am... sorry"

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Philip Winters. Born as the star child of Andrew and Diana Winters. Something about that child always was so right and perfect that he made it to the expectations of people. His high school years and college years were a proof of his extraordinary abilities. He was the perfect son. And an elder brother to her less known, and weak in ever possible way. little sister Anne Winters.

A week ago, he suffered something that shook his entire life. It might have been an aftershock of the events that happened a year ago but why now? The days of the city were gloomy turned gloomier. The grey sky could pour down soft snow anytime. The evening was a perfect dating day but he had spent it folded in sheets of his bed. Earlier his mother had called him for lunch and he couldn't make it. There was guilt and there was sorrow. A sound man in physique but weaker he saw himself in the mirror.

His green eyes were outlined by the red in his whites due to insomnia. The red curly hair looked like twigs as it had neither been brushed nor washed in a week. Disappointment, sorrow, guilt, insomnia his first time suffering. His first time doubting his whole life. And with a what have I done? he jumped out of bed and grabbed his phone.

"Melody?" his heavy voice asked for recognition.

"Yes, sir would you be returning to the office soon?" A woman with the confidence of a falcon. Handpicked by his mother.

"I don't think so... Look, book me a flight for London as soon as possible and do not inform my father or mother. If they ask, tell them I have gone back to New Zealand to complete my studies on the assigned task."

"Sir, I will see what I can do."

"Thank you."

And he hung up. What was in the past he could not change but he could only start by making things right from where he was now.

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Three men knotted into a bundle because of one event. Four lives lost, single life at stake and all centred on Anne Winters the ordinary daughter of Andrew Winters. The girl who only made it into the news because of her involvement in a crime scene. A brother whose love is doubted, an unnoticed benefactor and a held back detective. An amnesiac Anne winters.

The universe and the fates are indeed intricately woven. One string pulled and a thousand others collapse. Days go on, years pass by and time still moves but sometimes the world stops rather it is stopped. A world made of glass and people constantly throwing stones at it.

"Isabella?" Mrs. Winters called out. There was no answer.

She was a terrible mother and she knew it. She knew what she had done was wrong but no one saw the right side of it. Not even herself. She looked into her reflection in the mirror. She looked old but it did not bother her anymore. Her soggy red hair was neatly wrapped in the towel and blue eyes with flecks of rusted green only saw a disappointment in the mirror.

"Isabella." She called again and this time a maid appeared in the room.

"Yes, madam."

"Call Philip. Tell him, he must make it to dinner tonight."

"But madam... Master said not to... you know what happened... yesterday" the maid was frail. Her years of service had made her so.

"Just give him a call. Tell him it would be just the two of us." Mrs. Winters sighed and gestured her to leave her alone.

The maid left the room closing the door after her and that's when the redhead collapsed on the floor gathering herself the closest she could and tears of shame rolled out.

Winter was the worst season.