Sometime during the night, Callas managed to fall asleep. The police file—that she was certain was Reed's—was tucked away in one of the drawers of her desk. She would have to return it at some point, but she probably wasn't going to be home before Reed, so that posed as a problem. She had woken up sometime before her alarm went off, her hand turned the alarm off before it was ready to go off. Callas sat up, immediately staring at her desk, maybe she had imagined the whole thing. But she knew better than to assume that. She checked the time, 'five fifty-four a.m.', and pushed the covers off herself, walking over to her desk. The desk draw was locked, she picked up the small key from underneath one of her school books and opened the draw slightly. The file was still there. When she pushed the draw back in and locked it, a small huff left her lips. Her eyes flickered to the computer screen—she hadn't exited any of the documents, she needed to look at them in more detail.

When she walked over to her wardrobe and opened it up, she noticed Embry's jumper was hanging up. Anya must have assumed it was hers, or Reed must have told her it wasn't and that it wasn't his either. Callas unhooked the jumper from the hanger and folded it up, placing it on the chest at the end of her bed, noting to put it in her bag before she left. When she picked out her clothes she walked over to the bathroom, getting dressed, her eyes constantly moving back and forth between the doorway and the mirror. She placed her pyjama's in the washing basket and walked out. Knowing that she still had a few hours before she would have to be at school, she moved over to her desk, turning on her computer screen. A shaky sigh escaped from her as she clicked onto the document about her mother's death. It would be the first time that she read it, she wasn't sure what she was going to find. Callas was only around two-years-old when her mother died, the article was just over fourteen-years-old, and her father had died barely a year ago, so she had to brace herself for what she would read.

It comes as no shock to the people of La Push, Washington, that the recent bear attack activities have risen in the last few months more than it has in the last century or so. It's hard to determine why these levels have spiked, or what might have caused the sudden shift, but it's clear to those working on these cases, and the professionals at the nearest hospitals, that the victims of these unfortunate and devastating events have, in fact, been drained of their blood. Although there isn't much evidence to suggest that these attacks were, in fact, foul play and left for the bears, it's obvious that the bears were not able to drain these victims almost completely of their blood without there being large pools surrounding the victims. Callas sat back with her eyebrows furrowed before she scrolled and continued reading. The blood drained victims have been found with bruising around their wrists and necks, although it's hard to tell what might have caused those injuries due to the conditions the bodies had been left in, but we do know that they were injuries sustained prior to the post-mortem autopsies.

Callas quickly left the page and looked onto the other document. One of the tabs on the folklore spoke about 'blood suckers', but that was all that it was, folklore. She clicked back onto the article and continued. A few of the bodies, that were examined, also showed two puncture wounds around the base of the neck. That could suggest that someone had placed two tubes into the holes to remove the victims blood before transporting the bodies away to a different location, as the neck is known to have the cardiovascular system that has veins and arteries that return deoxygenated blood to and from the brain and other organs. The article then went on to explain about blood flow and the functionings of the human bodies. Callas continued to scroll until her mother's name popped up. Her lips parted and her heart began to pump quicker, her palms sweating.

One victim, identified as Freya Quinn, was also found deep in the forest. The coroner's report claimed that she had been drained of blood before her body had been mutilated by claw-like blades—or what was later revealed as bear claws—and her heart was removed surgically, most likely before her body was dumped. Callas froze. Her mother wasn't just killed. Her mother was murdered. By a human. Not a bear, a human. No one had told her that, although she couldn't blame them. What child would want to hear that their parent was murdered and left out for an animal? It dehumanised her mother. Wanting to know more, Callas scrolled down again. It is unclear as to why Quinn's heart was removed, while the other victims still had remnants of their organs left behind, including their hearts. But it is safe to say that Quinn's family can rest easy as a suspect was taken into custody earlier this morning and confessed to the murder of, one, Freya Quinn. For safety reasons of the suspect's family, we will not reveal any names. For more information, or if you have any information regarding this article, please contact—

Callas closed the tab. She closed the other tabs before turning her screen off, leaving the documents still up, planning to go back to it another time. There was a knock at her door. Callas jumped, a small yelp left her lips as she turned to the door. Reed popped his head in, his eyes were half open and his hair was a mess. Callas couldn't believe that her mother—their mother—was murdered. But she also couldn't understand why the Wight would have left the article on her computer, surely, they didn't connect. Unless the Wight was connected to it somehow. Maybe it was trying to give her a clue or tell her that it was involved. That made her shudder. Callas stared at Reed as he opened the door more, his body leaning against the door frame. He was still in his pyjama bottoms, obviously without a shirt.

"I, uh, didn't hear your alarm go off so I wanted to make sure you woke up. Nana is almost done making breakfast." He yawned, scratching his chest.

"Okay." She stood up.

"You're dressed early?" He furrowed his eyebrows together.

She looked down. "Uh, yeah. Yeah." She nodded. "I wanted to go over the History one last time and spell check it, but I wasn't sure how long it would take so I got dressed just in case I ran over it late."

Reed nodded his head. "Yeah, okay."

Callas released an inaudible sigh of relief. "Wait, what did you mean you didn't hear my alarm? Do you always hear it?"

"Most days." He shrugged.

"It's not that loud, is it?"

Reed chuckled. "Maybe it is and you just have extremely crappy hearing." He rubbed his eye with his hand, a tired smile spread across his face.

"Or you were bitten by a radioactive spider and instead of shooting out webs you just have heightened hearing."

"I wish."

Callas looked at him weirdly as a thoughtful and wistful look came over his face. She walked over to the door, pushing Reed away from the door frame as she closed her door. Reed was already walking down the stairs when she turned back around. She could always sneak the file into his room now, but she wasn't sure where he had put it, that meant it was going to be difficult not getting caught. With the shake of her head, she made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, she sat down and let out a yawn. Reed was already drinking his cup of coffee by the time Callas had reopened her eyes. He had already poured her a cup. Silas was reading—as always—and Anya was setting the plates with waffles down on the table. Her stomach rumbled when the sweet aroma wafted towards her. She wasn't sure how she could stomach anything after what she had read, but she knew she had to, even if it came back up seconds later.

"So, when's your History due?" Reed asked as he placed the whipped cream can down on the table, picking up his knife and fork.

Callas blinked. "Huh?"

He waved his fork around, pressing his lips together. "You said you were proofreading your History project."

"Oh, right, yeah." Her eyes widened before she nodded.

"How early did you get up?" He chuckled at her.

"Too early," she mumbled, looking down at her plate.

"So?" Reed asked again.

"What?" She looked back up.

"When is the project due? Jeez, Cal, how much sleep are you getting?" He looked at her quizzically.

"Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind. It's, uh, it's due next week."

"So, why are you doing it now?"

"Might hand it in early." She shrugged.

"I would have thought that your teacher would have given you extra time considering you're a man down on this project."

"Henry and I finished it a while ago." Callas shook her head at him.

"Well, that's lucky."

Callas hummed before she put whipped cream over her waffles and took a bite. Reed let her eat in silence. Silas and Anya never really had much to say during the mornings, so it wasn't as if it was too silent between them. There was just too much swimming around her mind. The article had changed a lot of what she thought she knew about her mother's death. It put things into a whole new perspective. Especially why their father wanted to move away. The pain must have become too unbearable. Her mother was murdered. Her blood was drained. Her heart was surgically removed. Her mind went back to the folklore. Almost every single tab had the words 'blood sucker' but only a few had the word 'vampire'. But that was crazy. Vampires aren't real. Callas couldn't believe that she was even considering that vampires were real. Unless that was what the Wight wanted her to know. She quickly finished her breakfast before gulping down her coffee, she picked up her plates and cup and place them into the sink before making her way back up the stairs.

As she made her way into her room, she noticed a note, folded up, on her desk, one that wasn't there when she woke up. She tried to ignore it as best as she could as she walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Her eyes flickered from the sink to the mirror, her eyes laying heavily on the note that sat on top of a book. As she brushed her teeth, her left hand gripped the edge of the counter. It was taking a lot out of her not to just scream and punch her hand through her mirror or swipe everything off from her desk, bordering up every entrance to her room, locking her door with a thousand locks and taking Reed's gun for protection. But she couldn't do that. Not if there was a possibility that her family would get harmed if she was to hide away from the Wight. She wasn't sure what he was capable of, but she definitely wasn't going to let her family be the one to figure that out. She had to just push the feeling down and ignore it as best as she could.

When she rinsed off her toothbrush and put it back into the pot, she turned around, wiping her mouth with a small towel before she made her way over to the note on the desk. "It's okay, words can't physically kill you," she told herself as she picked it up and slowly unfolded it.

So, I understand that you're connecting a few dots? Finally. This isn't some practical joke, Callas, I can assure you of that. I'm actually surprised, you're beginning to piece things together faster than I had imagined. Anyway, how was the article? Did it get your blood pumping? Do you understand a bit more? Yes, dear, old mother was murdered. Her blood was drained. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Boo hoo. But, did you link that with the other articles? The ones you mortals believe as folklore? Of course, you did. How else would I know? That was rhetorical. Getting back on track, I assume you linked it to vampires. Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. They are, in fact, real. I would know. I'm alive—well, that's up for debate—I'm really here, and there is no way that you're getting rid of me. I've waited so long for your parents to both die. It's easier to get to you this way. Hope you can understand. When your mind finally clears of the fog, and you learn a bit more about what I am. Hint: I'm immortal and I've mentioned it earlier. I will come back for another face-to-face. Oh, and by the way. Enjoy your date with the mutt. (Don't worry, Callas, I'll get to what he and his friends are soon enough.)

Reed's echoing voice from down the stairs drew her attention away from the letter that she folded up and shoved into her bag, "Callas, Jake is here to take you to school. Are you ready?"