This manuscript that you hold in your hands does not have a happy ending. No, this is in fact a more gruesome tale about a friendship that ruined everything. Between these pages lie words of passion and deceit, secrecy and diligence. An old man and the greatest poem ever written, but never shared, and the youth that questioned that. It begins with a gray house of a past era, in the midst of a suburban jungle.

I never meant to frighten you, but it is necessary that you know the truth, and the whole truth. Matthew Garrett was not a vision of perfection by any means, and I loathed him, everything about him was infuriating. But he was a good man, and pure of heart but not of soul.

It was all because Matthew Garrett knew about the burning.