Albert had selected a location near his apartment he could show up at that no one would see. He knew no one would see because it was a place no one ever looked, himself included. He had only had the faintest memory of being there and had only actually been there twice. Once technically, but he considered it to be two times.

The alleyway where Dickie and Austin had dragged his corpse wasn’t so close to his apartment building that anyone there would see him coming and going, but it wasn’t so far away that walking back home from there would be inconvenient. It didn’t have the most pleasant memories associated with it, but it was the most ideal place Albert could think of on short notice.

Appearing in that partially enclosed space brought back memories. Namely, the memory of waking up half dead after signing his contract with Death. His body had been there the whole time—which was why he had only technically been there once—and he had been eager to leave. And now that he was looking more closely at the alleyway itself, Albert could see a small blotch of red on the concrete by a dumpster. If he was recalling the position he’d woken up in correctly, that blotch was his own blood. And as unnerving as it was to see, it also felt like it marked the alleyway as his territory in some dark and uncomfortable way.

“I guess this is my checkpoint now.” Albert muttered to himself as he exited the alleyway and walked up the street towards his apartment. “Better get used to it I guess.”

The walk home was quiet, and the new objects jostling around in Albert’s backpack made him nervous. If just seeing something of potential value had gotten him killed the first time, what would the sound of something potentially valuable cause? Then again, who knew if the sound of an ink pot clacking against a class ring sounded valuable. These weren’t things Albert had ever thought of before, and the attention he was giving them now bothered him. He’d grown more paranoid in a matter of days than most people ever became in their whole lives.

But there was good reason to be paranoid. Death could have been lurking around any corner. Literally or figuratively. And the more Albert thought about it, the more eyes he imagined were locked on to his every movement. It wasn’t until the door to the apartment was locked behind him that he felt even an ounce of safety.

“You made it back.” Albert’s mom said, her voice absent as she sat on the couch with the TV on.

The sudden speaking caught Albert off guard and he jumped.

“What’s gotten in to you?” She sounded genuinely worried, dropping the barrier of disinterest at the first sign of trouble.

“I’m… I signed on for the internship.” Albert started, but didn’t exactly know where to go from there. “And Amy was talking to me on the way back about something, about the owner of the place I’d be working at. I guess I was just nervous after that.”

“What kind of things? What’s his name?”

“I don’t remember his full name, but I think his last name is Hook.” He regretted that immediately, it was information that he didn’t want his mother to know. Knowing one of the names on the front of the business that Death used as a cover might give his mom the information she needed to find it. “Or Hake or something. It started with an H. But apparently he has a history of encouraging… less than honest deals. And there are some people that aren’t too happy with him.”

The latter part of that statement hadn’t been fully honest, but it stood to reason that it was likely. Albert didn’t dare say what was really bothering him; the mixture of fear for his own safety and the weight of all the power he’d just been given. If he told her anything, she’d find out too much. But, for once, it was all he wanted to do.

“Do you have any of the paperwork about the internship?”

Albert could tell his mother’s curiosity was growing. She hadn’t forgotten that he’d mentioned that he’d had the paperwork. And he had it now, but it was in his backpack along with all the other miscellanea he’d been provided with by Death’s office. More things he would have to hide from her. And it occurred to him that there was virtually nowhere he could hide them.

“Yeah. Can I go put my stuff down first?

“Of course, go clean up if you want to. I’m not going to head in to work until five, the prep team should be fine on their own today.”

Both of the things his mother had told him were highly unusual. It wasn’t like her to put off a conversation and she never liked to leave any of the other cooks to do the prep on their own. It was one of the things she was adamant about. Good prep always made for good cooking, and good cooking made happy customers. She put a lot of pressure on herself, even though she wasn’t the head chef, to keep things at her job working smoothly. Albert knew that she hoped her good example and hard work would get her promotions, and she’d gotten them before, but now she was completely disregarding her whole pattern of work behavior.

Albert didn’t respond. He knew that if he described what he was going to do too much, his mom would just get more suspicious and she was definitely already suspicious. So he went ahead and made his way back to his bedroom and deposited his backpack in the same place he always did, on his chair in front of the small desk he used for homework, and quickly dug through all the paperwork and items he’d gotten for the documentation that Hope had made for him. Or rather, the documentation that she’d paid someone else to make for him. It was all there though, a little crumpled but perfectly legitimate. The name of the agency was on the pages as well, so perhaps there was some sort of safeguard that would prevent his mother from getting placed at further risk.

“Here. That’s the whole thing.” Albert dropped the pages gently on the coffee table in front of his mother.

She was careful not to be too quick to react, and Albert could tell she was putting on some kind of act, but she was still relatively at ease as she sat up and shut the TV off. She gave every page a close examination, and when she was done she stacked the papers neatly back in the same order she’d picked them up in. Albert couldn’t read her expression at all; she seemed intent to be as stone faced as she could.

“And this is something you still want to do?”

“Yeah. I think it will be a good experience.”

“Even with this Mr. William Hook being in charge?”

“I think I can manage working there despite him being the boss.” Albert nodded, slowly, trying to convince himself of the same thing. “I’ve barely had to talk to him at all so far and he seems like the type to be very involved in his own part of the business and not deal much with anything else.”

“A delegator, huh?” Was his mother’s only reply. The way she said it made her sound more like a shrewd businesswoman and less like a sous-chef at a catering restaurant.

“I’m honestly worried about being around Grim more. She’s a bit of a pain to deal with.”

“Oh? Grim’s a woman?” Her expression changed entirely to one more familiar to Albert. Worry about him being around women without supervision.

“If you’re worried about me being around her, don’t be. She’s plenty older than me and not the kind of person I like being around. You’d probably hate her too.”

“What’s her first name, then? If you know it. I want to steer clear of her if I ever have to stop by.”

“Hope. Hope Grim.”

“You’re lying.” His mother’s more jovial tone as she scoffed at the name made him feel comfortable. “Her name is Hope Grim and she works in debt collection?”

“They finance bail bonds too.” Albert added, not completely sure if that would make it funnier or more problematic.

“Goodness, Al, you found an internship at a circus.”

“They dress really nice, though, so I think they might actually be making decent amount of money.” At least, Hope dressed in luxury. Death looked like he could care less about what he wore as long as it was black and imposing.

“Maybe we should get you some nice clothes, then.”

“Nah.”

“Maybe just some nice shoes?”

“Mom, we don’t need to spend money just so I can look a little nicer for an internship.”

“But what if you end up working there long term? You don’t want to look like…” She couldn’t bring herself to say what she was about to. To say that they were poor and didn’t have the means to survive on their own. “I’m going to write to your uncle and see if he can tell me about anywhere that knows that sells nice clothes.”

There was no stopping her this time. She’d already dredged up the paper and envelopes after the last time she had been about to send a letter. Albert just let her do it. She was already writing before he could even say anything, and it was going to take a while.

Albert walked quietly, and mildly defeated, back to his bedroom and locked the door. The lock hardly mattered; his mom had a pin key she had made from a wire coat hanger that she could just stick in the knob on the outside and unlock the door. But it was an extra level of effort that she would need to go to, and if he heard her rattle the knob and then go get the key it would give him an extra couple of seconds to hide anything he needed to.

Without anything better to do—besides homework, and he wasn’t about to waste any of his time doing that—Albert laid out the items he’d gotten from Death’s office out on his bed. All the documents, the quill, the ink, the phone, and the ring. Or rather, the paper that detailed Markus’ ring and his ownership of it. And he sat and stared at all of them in silence for what felt like an hour. The whole time, trying to come to grips with what it all meant.