sometimes you have to face the facts.

i've been thinking about it for all this time. all those moments spent hiding in this fucking closet, nothing to do but think. there was no evidence, so sign of a break-in, no fingerprints, no dna, no body. one second he was there. the next, gone.

they say that sometimes the people he comes after are people he's followed since childhood. people he has some other connection to, even if they don't remember.

you took him, didn't you.

you took my brother.

...this complicates things.