Years ago, when Kelly was eight, she had been declared orphaned.
No relatives came forward.
She sat alone at the orphanage.
Quiet.
Watching.
Yami had been visiting that day.
Recently divorced. Childless. Lonely.
Kelly had looked at her and asked:
"Is your house noisy?"
Yami had smiled.
"No."
Kelly agreed.
Yami thought she was saving a silent child.
She had unknowingly brought silence into her own home.
Kelly had continued experimenting.
Learning.
Observing.
Choosing victims carefully.
Always those who were loud.
Always leaving a watch.
Time controlled silence.
That was her belief.