Greetings and salutations -
I've just returned from that fateful and tragic evening in Greenwich Village, 1963, and I'm still reeling. Perhaps it is indeed as the immortal Billy Joel once said: only the good die young.
Who knew my father was on the run, trying to escape his destiny? Is it possible that he had some ability he kept hidden from us all these years? This all feels like the tip of a very large iceberg.
I decided to drop by the loft to see if I could find anything.
I had just run across what must be Angela Petrelli's dream journal, when forces beyond my control prompted me to skedaddle. But I did get a chance to snap a picture of this:
Not sure what it all means, but I figure it was the universe's way of shifting my exploration further ahead in time. So I checked out my father's files to see if I could find anything relating to the date in Angela's journal. And here's what I got:
Zoinks! Any idea what this means?
HN.
