His dying wish

She was wearing a classic trench coat, with a fedora and that hid most of her red hair. Sitting across from a concerned family, she stated.

 "Like any private detective, I have seen many things in my years, even previously as a former agent."She took her hat off and entwined her fingers. "But nothing could have prepared me for what was to come." As the husband held his wife in his arms, she wailed as the detective continued. "I am sorry for your loss."

Exiting the home, she received a call from Willow. Frustrated and drained, she replied rather bleakly. Willow was in the process of burning the artwork, that was found in Tony's car, she sounded alarmed and afraid.

 "I may know where they are. I'll send you the address."

In a haste, she made it to the scene without contacting anyone from the Sûreté. She needed to make sure of it, to place respect on the involved victims including, Donatella. She arrived at an open field, in the middle of nowhere. Blank and receptive, the landscape opened to her. In the centre of it all was a large oak tree, with something parading in front of it.

As she walked on, she found Willow gaping at the scene. Stunned, Alice was left aghast. With no words, she hunched down on her knees and shaded her eyes. Looking up at the cloudless northern sky she whispered," We finally found you".

What represented Michelangelo's artwork The Pieta, which was originally a depiction of Mary and Jesus was now of Harry and Crystal. With Harry draped over her knees as he would as the Christ taken from the stake. They were drenched in bronze casting, painted golden while wearing biblical attire of the sort. The sorrowful tone of it evoked pity, with an ironic religious tone the scene was ungodly. 

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A local commensal was being held at the farm, a yard sale of the sort. The well-defined area brought a few interested locals. Although inexperienced, she did learn a thing or two about the town from her mother. Before the fire, she was only able to save Tony, neither her parents nor husband.

With pain comes joy, in that Penelope was now her only family. Bright and honest, Penelope came into view. She was rummaging through boxes to find something to sell. Her whole body nearly entered the box as she found it difficult to extract the object. It was a painting. She dragged it across the floor and came to her grandmother with an eager smile.

"Granny, what is this funny looking painting?"

She dropped it and stepped around it. "Can we sell it?"

The woman smiled and patted Penelope on her head. "Of course we can, your father would have liked that."

Penelope scurried with the painting, leaving her to her thoughts. The girl had not asked about it or had been in fear of it. The gaping mouth, as black as coal, had no effect on her, nor the rich red that represented blood. She nodded proudly, acknowledging the girl's inner artist yet to bloom. "Mixing blood causes reactions like paint with new colours". She stood and walked towards an apple tree rich in the new harvest. Grabbing the fruit, she watched it glint in her hand. "I wonder what new colours, she'll create."

"Come take my hand,

Wipe your tears,

Drops of blood 

Will lead you here".

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