When Walter and Harriet Castagnola learned they were welcoming a new life into the world they had no idea of what they were having. Walter wanted a boy, of course. A male to follow in his footsteps, to honor compromise, to show off proudly when he was older. Harriet didn't care. She just wanted the baby to be healthy. As the months moved along and Mrs. Castagnola's belly showed signs of what was to come, Walter decided they needed a bigger house, their family was growing and there wouldn't be enough room anytime soon for two adults and a baby in their matchbox of an appartment in downtown Seattle.

No, his bella deserved the best. It took him a few weeks to find the perfect spot and to make it happen but, when a heavily pregnant Harriet stood in front of a classical style 3 bedroom house in one of Seattle's safest neighbourhoods he knew he had done the right thing. He was finally doing the right thing for a change.

On the 7th of September 1914, a baby girl was born much to the delight of the Castagnolas. Walter forgot all about wanting to have a son when he laid eyes on that baby. She looked nothing like her and everything like Harriet. He knew her hair was going to be fiery red, by the little amount of it that gathered on top of her small head. Freckles kissed her pale skin and light brown with bits of green were her eyes. Walter realized that he was going to have problems with her -- she was going to be beautiful.

Walter looked at his wife and, in that moment, there was no way he could have loved her more. She had given him the best gift possible and that gift looked just like her. He was one lucky man, surrounded by beautiful women. Now, more than ever, he'd do everything to keep them safe.

'How do you want to name her?' - Harried asked, she was tired and looking a little pale.

'I'll let you decide' - he smiled and kissed her cheek. He still wasn't able to let go of that baby.

'Lola Mae' - Harriet said - 'I want her to be Lola Mae'. How could he ever say no? Lola. His Lola. His Harriet. His family.

In July that same year, Seattle had welcomed what they called the most beautiful building they had ever built: the Smith Tower. Standing 38-story tall, it's beauty and grandness was nothing compared to Lola. They hadn't seen true beauty until this day.

As the years passed, Lola's hair had become more and more red, her eyes more and more green and her personality more and more giddy. She couldn't say she was unhappy: her parents loved her, she just wished her father spent more time at home.

One day she decided to ask her mother why her father was out of the house so much, she was met by her patient smile -- the smile a mother does when she loves her child dearly -- and told him he was out to do business. She never questioned what this meant, not really. It wasn't important. She had last seen her father three months ago, the house felt empty but what made Lola smile today was that he was coming back.

The year was 1926, she was twelve now and a lot has changed in Seattle since. She liked to think she was already an adult. Her mother had given her a pearl necklace for her birthday two weeks before. She liked reading novels, she started wearing different clothes to acomodate her changing body. She hadn't grown much in height, last time she had barely reached her father's shoulder. The girl didn't care as she was ocuppied to what to wear tonight. Papà was taking their girls out to dinner.

His eyes were tired, the wrinkles had found their way into his features but he couldn't be happier when he opened the door to the house he bought them years ago and finding his precious Lo running towards him like she was still five. He hoped that never changed. This tims business, as he called, took longer. Oh, how she had grown. Her hair was longer, reaching the middle of her back, her features less childlike. She was becoming a woman and he hasn't been here to see it happen: the moment he stopped being his little girl to someone else's special little tresure.

Walter was surprised at his Harriet. She was always so calm, so poised and colected. He's bet most of the times he didn't knew what she was thinking about, but he felt the love. She didn't talk much but, when she did, he paid full attention because he knew it was important -- her words were precious. She looked the same as the day he met and fallen in love with her. Years have been kind to Harriet. They have not been kind to Walter.

He kissed her. He waited three months to do that and, when she finished, she told him a little secret: she was pregnant. He fell to his knees, surrendering to the happiness this woman was always bringing into his life and kissed her stomach. The third room in the house would finaly get some use. He had always been hopeful.

The family only went to Nuevo Vesuvio when a celebration was in order. Lola didn't know what this was all about, but she wore her Sunday best. They weren't a religious family, but they still paid their respects as often as their soul commanded. She had lost count of the amount of birthdays she had celebrated in this place. All of them? She really wasn't sure. The smell was so familiar she felt like her nonna back in Italy was the one doing the cooking. She missed her.

Her parents looked happy. She was happy. Everything was good.

Tentatively her mother looked at her, a small smile plastered on her face.

'Sweetie, we have news' - she anounced, her voice soft like the warm cozy blanket Lola thought it was - 'You are going to have a little brother or sister' - Harriet smiled. Walter followed.

It took her a while to understand what she was being told. Her? An older sister? She felt the weight of responsability in the height of ther twelve years of age. She was over the moon. She was going to help shape a new human being into w half decent person. Could she do it? Could she be the best big sister ever? She beieved she could and she squealed. She was only twelve.

Lola had never seen something so tiny in her life. Sure she was small but this little human she was holding onto like dear life was precious. Like a diamond, only with limbs. She counted mentaly all his fingers and his toes.

'It looks like you got all of them, Francis' - she said. The little girl knew he didn't understood her yet, but she hoped the first thing he learned was how much she already loved him. He looked nothing like her. Where she was her mother, baby Francis was his father. It was funny and yet they were the same where it counted: they had the same turn of the nose, their eyebrows moved just the same and they both had a dimple when they smiled. Hers was on the right side, his was on the left side. Two peas in a pod.

This was a rather private affair. Harriet and Walter were as in love as two people could possiby be. Lola wished she had the luck to find someone like that someday. Then there was her and Francis, of course -- and @Luna. She had known Luna since she could walk. She lived in the house in front of hers and they always hit it off. She was everything Lola was not and, for that she was thankful. She was a little ray on sunshine when Lo's day was cloudy, she was all hugs and kisses when she was feeling down because the World was not the place she had imagined. Lo was very grateful to Luna and she always wished she was her sister or that at least she spent less time abroad. They knew everything about each other, it was like they could read minds. Luna knew that when Lo tied her hair up in a pony tail she was determined to solve a problem and Lola knew that when Luna crunched her nose she wa suspicious of something.

They spent months without seeing one another but somethings never changed. When Lola found out she was going to be a big sister, she rapidly wrote Luna a letter. Later that week she replied she would be there and that she wouldn't miss it for the world. She kept her promise. She always did.

She had seen Tom Heyes a thousand times in her father's office, listening to him, smiling her everytime he saw her. He always had been a part of that house, less conspicuous than the ridiculous amount of men that came and went when Walter thought Lo wasn't looking. She still didn't care what her father did for a living, she was just pleased he spent more time at home now. Francis was turning six years old that year, she had just hit eighteen.

Lola had developed into a woman. Walter had missed it, like he knew he would, but he wasn't mistaked when he said she was going to be beautiful the first time he saw her and held her. She wasn't his little girl anymore but she wasn't anyone else's either. No man was good enough for her treasure and they have tried.

She had hips that filled her skirts and dresses nicely, a small waist and a modest bust -- not too big, not too small. It all seemed to work and blend perfectly into her petite frame. The girl didn't show off, she was always a bit more modest than most girls her age, she found solace at home and not outside, drinking illegal alcohool. She did participate in her fair share of illegal business, she was no angel, she just liked to keep it private.

Tom was all Lola could see now, the rest was a meaningless backdrop. She used to love the sugary aroma of chiffon cake, now all she wanted was to be close enough to him to inhale his musky scent and make her brain swim with a heady intoxication. He looked her way, almost able to keep the grin from his face. Walter spies the exchange and makes a gruff excuse about him having to go get something from the car.

'Papà' - Lo said - 'It's Christmas Eve, you shouldn't be working' - she plead.

'You're right, cara mia' - he replied, rubbed his eyes and got up from his chair - 'What are your mother and brother up to?' - he smile on his face was wonderful, Lola had missed it.

Christmas was quite an affair in the Castagnola household. Harriet cooked, Walter would set up the decorations and Lola and Francis would sing her lungs out and tease eachother the whole day.

'You sound terrible, you know' - Francis said that year. Lola knew he was lying but still faked being wounded by his words. He must have felt bad or she must have been very convincing because she was being hugged a few seconds later - 'You sound alright, and I love you very much'. She smiled. This was all she wanted for Christmas.

This year was going to be different. @Luna had always spend the holidays with Walter, Harriet, Lola and little Francis but, this year, her very old grandmother decided to host a grand affair.

'Lolo' - she had said the day before she left - 'I'll be back in time for the New Years' - and she hugged her best friend. She was the only one allowed to call her Lolo. 

Luna was gone, but Tom was taking her place at the table when the turkey arrived. Her mother was a pretty good cook, so it wasn't hard for her to impress the guests with her food. Christmas was her grand finale for the year, every time a different dish.

Lo focused her attention on Tom again. He had lost all traces of boyhood. From her seat it would appear as if he was an angel. She knew better. The girl took in his muscles, the clean shaven square jaw and tuned into his voice. It was as deep as any man. He smiled with ease and made fluid arm movements to exaggerate his buoyant speech. He couldn't be much over twenty. He had that Clark Gable look about him, the dark hair and blue eyes. She didn't have a clue to how much she wanted him.

The dinner continued.

Even though Tom has known Lola for a few years, he felt as if the time wasn't right to ask her to be his wife. He knew his boss would be please if he made that move. Still he waited -- two months. Two long months. She would be turning twenty soon. They have been dating since after Christmas 1932 and he knew what she wanted, however he wanted to be prepared. He wanted to be ready. Each day, for hours, Tom was no stranger to the past. He contemplated why he lover her, asking himself all the basic questions, and the not so basic ones. This move could make him. He needed this to secure his place in the family.

On that fateful Sunday morning, Tom decided it was time. He was going to do it. He was going to ask her to be his wife in the backyard of the family house he recently started to call his own -- mostly. He had first laid eyes on her there. She was sixteen, he was twenty-one, still fresh faced and with no signs of the life he was choosing to live. Lola spent a lot of her time reading in the exact same spot in the garden, he had watched her for hours on end, learning every curve, every detail and everything he could about that girl. It wasn't love at first sight, but Tom had learned to see Lola as for what she was: safe, innocent, gullible. She didn't asked questions about what her dear ol' dad did and Tom found that reassuring. He didn't need nosy people in his life.

Everything looked beautiful. He had Harriet help him set up the yellow and pink flowers next to the bench he'd propose. Tom was sure nothing could go wrong. Tom had asked Lola to meet him downstairs for breakfast and when she saw the setting... she gasped.

'Are you trying to propose?' - Lola said, returning her gaze to the man she loved so dearly. She was one step closer to have it all like her parents. The intense moment grew longer, it seemed. No one said a word. Their eyes remained glued on one another, waiting for the other person to speak first.

'Where is it?' - Lola finally spoke up. Tom pulled the ring out from his pocket.

'Lo,' - Tom began - 'Remember the first day I saw you, reading a novel on this exact same spot? How your face was so focused you didn't know I was there until the moment your skirt lifted a bit and you remembered yourself?'

'Why does that matter?'

'It matter because that day I knew you would one day be my wife. After work with your father I ran home and told my mother that I had found the one. She said good for you, now go wash your hands we are having dinner soon' - Lola laughed.

'It's true' - Tom continued - 'She didn't even believe me. Boys have crushes and puppy love but no one really knows if it will ever work out. Do you know what she said to me the day she died?' - it wasn't sudden, Tom knew it was going to happen soon but no one is ever ready to lose their parents. It has been a few months. Lola shook her head at his question - 'She said son, if you don't marry that woman, I'm coming back from the grave to haunt you' - Tom chuckled - 'I told her I would but not until I was ready. That was two months ago. And now, after thinking about it long and hard I realized I can't imagine a life without you Lola Mae' - Tom went down on one knee.

'Not a day goes by that I don't think about our future together' - he continued - 'Lola' - Tom opened the sing case - 'Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?'. It surprised the great amount of zero persons when Lola said yes.

As a birthday present and a wedding gift, Walter and Harriet gave Lola a small bricked house down the road from them. They said that she needed a place of her own to start life when she got married and since they could do that for her, they did. She was extremely grateful, she always asked for books for her birthday and, this year, when she made the same request her father had said he had something better planed. Lola had no idea this was it, but it was so much better than books.

She had the urge to call his fiancé right away. Lola made her way to the telephone and dialed Tom's office number. He, Walter and their other associates had set shop downtown since Harriet was getting upset that their were using her study room for whatever businesses they had. Mrs. Castagnola was no stranger to the family business, but since she became a mother she took a seat in the back burner. It was for the best.

The girl knew her father was out of town but he had informed her that Tom would stay behind to manage things. As he didn't picked up she gathered her day hat and her purse, told her mother where she was going and left he house. The Castagnola's had a chouffer called Jeeves. She liked Jeeves. He was nearing he's sixties and had a friendly face. The old man opened the door for Lola and when she told him where she was headed his demeanour changed -- that he did not approve off, but he had to do what he was told.

The office building downtown was the pride and joy of her father -- othen than family, that is. As she made her way inside, a huge smile on her face, Lo forgot to observe the clear signs her fiancé wasn't alone. She just wanted to see him and tell him the good news. The smiled dropped as she found him rather buried in some other woman's business. She gasped as she took the scene in. She did not belive her eyes. Tom was kissing other woman. Tom was moaning into someone else's ear. Tom was betraying her. He was breaking her trust.

When the blonde realized they weren't alone at least she was decent enough to stop and look embarassed. Lola wasn't angry at her -- she was angry at him, he was the one who has made a promise to her.

He knew he messed up the moment his lover stopped. She was standing right there, the only time in her life she decided to be unpredictable. Bloody hell. Tom was mad. He had no right to be mad but he was. Lola was not supposed to be here. She was not supposed to find out about this -- never. She was supposed to be his ignorant, pretty little wife. He struck her.

Lola's cheek was burning. He had just hit her as if she was the one at fault at this. She wasn't and she knew better. She looked him straight in the eyes, tossed the ring at him and left. One thing Lo was not was a doormat.

Jeeves knew what she had just seen when she got outside the building with tears in his eyes - 'I'm sorry, miss' - was all he said as he drove her home. Harriet on the other hand had no idea of what was going on when she heard her daughter call for her -- she sounded like a little girl again, that was the only aspect about it Harriet didn't miss, when one of her children cried because they were hurt.

Her daughter told her what had happened and Harriet got so angry. The nerve of that kid! She had opened their house to him and that's how he repayed them. The woman called her husband and he promised revenge -- no one was doing that to his little girl and get away with it.

He send her off to Florence for a week as soon as he returned. A week of shopping and art would do her some good. Walter asked some of his men to roughen up Tom the same day. As soon as he heard what he had done, he had made the call. Now here he was, seated in his downtown office, with that stronzo in front of him. Tom still hadn't apologized for what he had done, and he was not going to. We wasn't sorry. His only regret being the carelessness he had.

'I have nothing to say to you' - Walter said, spitting his words. Tom still carried a smug smile in his face.

'Well, I do' - he dared - 'Aut neca aut necare'.

And then he left. Some men liked to see the world burn, he was one of them.

My dearest Lo,
We miss you quite terribly. When this letter reaches you, you'll probably enjoying the last few hours in Florence.

I hope that you loved it has much as I did when I was your age -- there is something about Italy that just lifts ours spirits.

Your father dealt with Tom. I did not know what this means but, and I known, I would not tell you.

Somethings are best if they remain a secret. However we need to tell you something in person.

I would call but this is not a conversation your father and I would like to have on the telephone.

Francis sends his best and asks for a postcard.

We love you very much

- Mama

Lola was still holding the letter her mother had sent her while she was in Florence not knowing it was going to be the last piece of her she'd have. As the taxi driver rounded the corner everything was eery. It had only been a week but, somehow, her house seemed different.

She paid the cabby and grabbed her belongings. She had brought her brother a postcard just like he asked. It was August, summer was almost nearing it's end but she didn't mind. She prefered the cold anyways. The girl opened the door and she wish she hadn't.

Their bodies layed like ghoulish mannequins, the esophagus and arteries sticking out like so much corrugated and rubber tubing. It looked as if a special effects team had worked over time, but that smell... that smell could only come from recently slaughtered animals. In this case the animals were human and their corpses were still warm, the blood thickening but not yet dried on their waxy skin. Dead, they were all dead.

Her mother's corpse had slipped from her normal place at the couch and lay staring up at her, the mouth open, the head almost cleft from the body -- she saw again the severed vessels, sticking like corrugated pipes through the clotted blood. She second, her father's, was propped, ungainly as a rag doll, against the far wall. His head had drooped forward and over his chest a great mat of blood had spread like a bib, his left hand holding a gun.

There was blood smeared on the walls and on the floor. She still wasn't able to find Francis. Maybe he had survived it all? She hoped. That was her first mistake. As she walked into the dinning room she heard a dripping sound. Upon entering, Lola was met with a horrific sight. There was Francis, hung on the wall with 'do you want to knowtheir secret?' painted in blood.

She screamed and clawed back at her brother's cold corpe trying to bring it down. He had only been eight years old. He was innocent. A child. What kind of monster would do this?

Lola didn't know for how long she had screamed, and screamed and screamed. It must have been long because before she knew it a pair of arms was separating her from her brother's corpse. Her house was filled with men wearing crisp suits, moving like they knew the place and trying to clean everything up. Maybe they would kill her? She'd like that.

'Lola Mae' - a deep voice said, bringing her into conscience - 'Listen to me. This is very important. You don't know me, but my name is @Coltrane. I'm here to take you away and keep you safe. You are safe now, I promise. Do you understand that?' - she did, but did she want to be safe? Everything she had in life had been taken from her. Coltrane signaled one of his suited men and she was taken away, as she turned back, her mother's dead eyes looked at her.

He didn't want her to die, that was a given. In a sick, twisted way he still loved her. So he waited. He waited and he turned his men against him. For months he had been feeding them lies, making them angry at their boss. This was always his goal. Her brother wasn't in the plans and he almost felt sorry he had to kill him but he turned out to be the final piece of the grand puzzle he was assembling. The wheels were finally turning and the scale was -- at last -- tiping his way.

He was watching the action unfold inside her house. Just as planned, he thought.

And now, their story begins.