Chapter 3: A New Identity

The old man sat in his car outside Ethan’s house while the young loner moved about inside, packing up the last of his belongings. From some discreet inquiries he’d done, Ethan was a troubled soul. A kid from an abusive parenting household, he had recently inherited his parents’ home after their untimely deaths in a tragic house fire.

But words began to circulate that it wasn’t so cut and dried, convenient accident. Ethan’s relationship with his folks hadn’t been exactly warm and nurturing. And then all of a sudden, they’re dead in a fire? Too coincidental to the old man who’d spent decades spinning his own web of connections and secrets.

He was the one, the perfect first target for this new life he so desperately yearned for. A person isolated and aloof, no friends or family members left behind to check on him and ask questions. By appearances from across the street, the young man was planning to move out soon. Looking for a new start at a new place, just like what the collector wanted.

He waited there through the evening till the nightfall, while lights went out in Ethan’s house, one by one. Then he got out of his car, carrying the silver dagger in the inner pocket of his tweed jacket.

He walked quietly up the front sidewalk and reached into his pants pocket to pull out a lockpick, a tool that fit perfectly in the deadbolt. Over the years, the old man learned many useful things. Some were legal, some not so much. Tonight, though, was all about stealth and surprise.