At the top of the hill, far from town, stood a manor. It was surrounded by vast swathes of dark forest, away from immediate civilization, giving it an ominous quality. It was not the kind of place Adam thought he would like to live in. It was the Good manor.

Before the door to the house, Mary was hesitating. She was oddly nervous.

Adam almost asked why, but did not dare to; not knowing if that would feel unnatural. It might be something he knew about, after all.

Eventually she opened the door, and the two walked in.

A large hall spread before him, with doorways left and right. Directly opposite the doorway, rose twin stairs leading first to a balcony. From the balcony doorways continued to the second floor.

A woman stood from a couch. Tall and lean, with black hair up to her shoulders; and a pretty, but mean-looking face. A full length dark-blue dress hugged her body snugly, accenting her curves, yet exposing very little.

She recognized him, and knitted her brows, displeased. “I heard you suffered an accident,” the woman said, spitefully, as if she thought it was shame he hadn’t died. “It’s a shame you didn’t die.”

He felt a little shocked to be told he should die so bluntly, but tried to not let it affect him too much. He glanced at Mary, wondering what her face would be like before this one.

She was angry, no she was hateful. It was a surprising display of emotion, although maybe it shouldn’t be. He did not know her, after all.

“I’m sorry.” Adam shrugged.

The woman pursed her lips, and regarded Adam with animosity. She turned around at the sound of heavy footsteps and her grimace became a lovely smile.

Adam turned too. A man walked in. He was tall, broad-shouldered with a youthful but rigid face and short blond hair. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at Adam’s sight, growing colder. “I heard you suffered an accident.” His voice was deep and rough. Fitting.

“I just came back from the hospital.”

He nodded. “It’s good that you are well. There have been enough deaths in the family already.”

Adam smiled. “I could not agree more.”

The man paused, and fixed his gaze upon Adam as if in critique of his words. His gaze lingered uncomfortably. His eyes disengaged. “Let’s go Sasha,” he told the woman, and the two left through the door Adam entered from.

Adam wondered who they were. And why both of them disliked so much.

“I hate that bitch,” Mary whispered when they were too far to hear. “Once we’re done, she’s dead.” It was startling and almost strange to hear so much hate out of her; Adam reminded himself that he did not know this woman at all. Next, she glared at Adam so harshly he nearly jumped. “Don’t you forget it! I haven’t forgiven you yet,” she said, and left it only at that.

Adam followed her up the stairs and to a room on the second floor.

After a brief observation, Adam decided they did not live there. Open trunks lay on the floor, smaller cases containing hygiene items were lying over the bed. The room lacked furniture, and had the distinct smell of an unlived room.

While Adam surreptitiously checked the room, Mary started changing clothes.

He was surprised, but rapidly recomposed. They were married, he reminded himself.

“Are you really all right?” she asked, putting her nightwear.

“Err, yes.”

She raised an eyebrow, but did not pursue the reason for his sudden discomfort. She wore a simple and noncommittal pajama, which was slightly disappointing, and lay on the bed. She stretched herself out like a cat, and cocked her head at him. “Are you worried?” she asked.

Adam wondered what he should be worried about, but then he really was worried about many things. “I am very worried.”

She sat, leaning against the bedstead. “Pence said it’s getting to your mind,” she muttered. “Is it really?”

“I don’t know,” Adam said.

She kept staring at him for a long time, saying nothing, but looking as if she very much desired to.

Adam really wished she would, if only so he could get an inkling of what she thought.

“Do you really want to kill Sasha?” he asked, surprising even himself with the question. But, somehow, he could not accept her cruelty. He needed to verify it.

Strangely, she seemed confused at first. Then, her expression darkened in what appeared to be understanding. “You’re calling her Sasha now?”

Adam froze. She was angry, and he had no idea why. What had he said wrong?

She turned away, gritting her teeth. “Of course I want to kill her.”

A pregnant silence settled. Adam could even hear the sound of the wind outside the glass window as it swished the trees. Eventually, she turned back around, seeming morose now. “I am sorry. That was unfair of me.”

Her gaze hurt him. She seemed so contrite Adam considered telling her that he was sorry but didn’t know who she was, that he didn’t know why he was here or what they were planning, that he needed help. But he did not. Was it fear, or something else that prevented him? “We are evil are we not?” he ended up asking instead.

Her eyes widened. After a while, her face softened, and her gaze became kinder, like when he first saw her. “That is a childish question.”

Adam chuckled. He agreed with her.

“But honestly, I’m sick of it all too,” she continued, averting her eyes. “We’ve done so much, too much, too fast. I want some peace and quiet. I don’t want to worry like this anymore. I don’t want to have to endure this.” She sighed, looking back at him. “Won’t you have a bath, please?”

“Uh? Ah, yes.” The bathroom, he noticed only then, was through a door to his left.

“Want to take one together?” she asked, smiling playfully. Then, because he did not answer, she raised an eyebrow at him, and asked, “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I am.”

Her eyes narrowed coldly, and her lips twisted in an unpleasant sneer. “What, are you afraid I’ll see some hickeys?”

Adam stopped at the doorway, no idea how to answer, or if he even should. Rather confused, he retreated into the bathroom and locked the door.

Inside, he was even more confused. He stared at the mirror. It was him, of course. He recognized himself in it. Should he be glad for that? He took off his glasses and gave himself a good look. He looked better with them on. He decided that crime paid a lot of money.

He laughed at himself. “Who am I?” he asked the mirror.

The tub’s warm water made the wind seem even colder.