Cold smothered their entire weight as Eulalia and Bergamaschi ply the snow. The house got closer to them, but Eulalia swore for every six steps she took the house would recoil a few feet.

It's too cold.

You should've went back for those snow boots. 

Your feet are moving really slow. 

It became more apparent to Eulalia's vision, that frame, head inside, body out. She jerked her head to Bergamaschi. He busied himself by taking in everything but what stood in front of him. She saw his hands trembling by an inch. 

Eulalia slapped him on the back and pointed out. "That's him. Janardan. Right there." 

"Oh, God," His head raised and his eyes distend. "You're right! Thank you!" And his feet took off, getting as small as that house. It takes Eulalia a bit, but she eventually trails after him.

His flesh blended into the snow. Of course, Janardan had pale skin before all of this, yet now his skin didn't even attempt to lie. It matched the color of readied milk. Along with that, the stench of a sweetly farm with nothing but animals dying crowded their nostrils. Everything on that bed of snow played with their senses, coerced them into sick. Only Eulalia gave in. But with a smile.

"...Eulalia?" Bergamaschi hoped that would dissolve her smile or at least prove him wrong, but she looked at him. Chin over the corpse, chin over Janardan, she still smiled.

She responded with a cadence that held somewhat of a snivel and a laugh, "Don't look at me like that, cretin. I'm glad you didn't lie to me." Allowing her spine to readjust, she stood straight and continued, "This is barbaric."

All Bergamaschi had was a, "Yeah."

"Have you rounded up potential suspects? Anyone."

"Uh, nah, I haven't. But, uh..."

"Then am I really of any use?"

"...Yes! Yes, Eulalia. I just...okay, maybe I do have a suspect."

Her smile collapsed. "Let's be sure, Bergamaschi. Please, I would rather us not go playing tag with information. You've hired me..."

He's angry. He's angry.

Two fingers pressed on her forehead and her other hand pressed to her chest, she stops. 

His eyebrows raised. "Oh, we can...move if you...want..."

"...Tell me who you had in mind."

"Well, you know, considering the people in the house...aren't in there, I'm thinking...the Monday family."

Putting her hands down and opening her eyes, she resounded, "...The Monday family."

"The Monda—"

"I am aware...are you throwing a wrench at me?"

"Come on, just learn to trust me already!"

"Who is the Monday family, then?"

"Velma, this guy who I think...hired him? Or I think it was the dad...probably was the dad. And...there's supposed to be a mom, but I haven't heard about her since she did that thing...and there's this other...guy..."

Taking a parting glance at Janardan, Eulalia made her way back to the car. Bergamaschi stood there making odd faces. As soon as he realized she wasn't there, he ran after her.

"Hey! Hey! Okay, now I'm sure of it!"

"...Sure of what exactly?"

"It's the Monday family. Definitely. After all of the shit they've done, I really wouldn't put it past them."

"You're sure of this?"

"Absolutely."

"Definitely. Definitely."

"You show me where they are then."

"...Uh, yes, but, okay, I have some ideas as to where they are. I can just take you there!"

And so they made their way into the car. Devoid of any type of dialogue, it would just be filled with the noises of the unbreathing. The motor, some car keys, the shuffling of fabric, leathers and fur, but no talking.

That was fine. That gave them time to think. To worry. 

Why did it have to be Janardan? What would he do to spite them like that? Are we next?

Why was she smiling? Couldn't she see someone was dead over there? Is she glad he's dead?

He can't be mad at me. What did I do to make him angry? What gives him the right to be...angry? At me!

It also gave Eulalia's other internal monologues add more splinters, which led her eyes to the same bottle of Thorazine. Then more worry laid on top of her. She smiled again, but since the weight is too much to carry, she decided to break down and cry.