You got out of bed with a stumble, having broken your leg a couple months ago, and was on the highway to recovery. Seems Simon wasn't home yet.

You shambled out from your room, fed up of lying down and rest. Then you heard the door creak and two sets of footsteps come in from the front, and headed to the kitchen. You recognized one set as Simon's, and shuffled back, to peep from your bedroom door. He wouldn't want you on your feet.

The second person was Graves. It seems the two had made up after everything that took place in Las Almas, as you watched them from where you couldn't be spotted.

"Hey, Ghostie boy, mind tossing me a cold one?" You heard Graves ask kindly. Ghost grumbled, and turned around to get a beer from the fridge.

To your horror, Graves pulled out a pistol and aimed it right at the unsuspecting Ghost as he was turned, firing, and Simon crashing to the ground, shot in the back, blood pooling around him.