Azalea: "Being trapped in that basement must have been so freaky, Alex."

Alex: "Oh, trust me—it was. It's a good thing Sara showed up, or I would've been toast. I just wish she would have said something earlier about that key."

Hunter: "Yeah, or who it really belonged to."

Hannah Ivory Mun:

I started talking the moment all five of us had piled into Hunter's car, mind racing as my words began:

"Stefan and I..." I nearly bungled the words. "...We got together after school like I told you guys. We...we met in the student lounge to work on our project for The Crucible. Stefan had pretty much finished his part, so he started helping me with the literary analysis that we have to write. It was quiet, and..." I trailed off, glancing down nervously.

"And what?" Azalea asked.

"And he kissed me."

Alex snorted. "Oh, what, then he started porking you on the couch?"

"Will you shut up!" I screamed back.

"Sorry, Hannah," Alex spat, "but you'll have to forgive me if this 'project' just sounds like a pathetic excuse for you to stick your tongue down Stefan's throat!"

I gasped.

"And for the record," he persisted, "I bet the only reason he didn't try to go all the way is because he's too much of a wimp. Honestly, Hannah, you give that low-life way more credit than he deserves."

"You guys..." Hunter tried.

"At least that 'low-life' doesn't prance around acting like he owns me or get his only guy friend to drive halfway across town so he can spy on me!"

"Stop it, you two! That's enough!" Azalea screamed from the front seat. "This situation is already bad enough without you trying to murder each other!" She took a deep breath.

I exhaled lowly.

"Hannah," Azalea said evenly, "please continue—without interruption." She glared at Alex as she said that last part, and he grunted angrily. I wanted to reach across the seat and slap him in the face.

"Anyway," I deigned, "after Stefan kissed me, we heard a noise in the hallway. We tried to check to see what it was, but...the door was locked. From the outside."

Hunter gasped in the front seat. "What? Is that even possible?"

I shook my head. "I don't know how, but...someone locked us inside. And when I ran to the couch to get my phone, I found this über-creepy note inside my purse." I paused, shivering at the memory.

"What did it say?" Azalea prodded.

I swallowed hard. "I don't remember the exact words, but it was something like 'Christmas comes early this year. Check the closet.'" A fresh surge of chills pulsed through my blood just thinking about it. "You guys, it was literally so scary. Like, who could have possibly put that note in my purse!?"

"Hannah," Alex interjected, "that's beside the point. What happened next? What did you find in the closet?"

How rude. I cut my eyes at him, huffing out an angry breath. "I showed Stefan the note, and we went over to the closet. He grabbed a lamp off the table to use as a weapon, just in case someone was hiding in there or something. I opened the door, and the moment I saw what was inside, I screamed the loudest I've ever screamed in my whole life." I felt tears building up above my cheeks; and before I knew it, I was crying uncontrollably.

"It's okay, Hannah," Azalea said calmly. "Just breathe."

I heard her, but I couldn't stop crying. It was all so overwhelming. Even now, the world before my eyes seemed to be throbbing, fading in and out in rhythmic tendrils of light blurred by my own tears.

"Hannah, pull it together!" Alex barked as I started wiping at my eyes. "What did you see?"

"...I—I saw Eric," I said between tearful breaths. "I saw Eric Lim's body—he was dead!"

Everyone in the car froze.

"Stefan screamed, but I screamed louder," I said. "And when I finally managed to stop, I started to smell...smoke. A fire—it was burning at the front of the room. I pulled out my phone and tried to call Hunter, but it died just as I was tapping in the number. Stefan went to grab his phone from the couch, but the fire swallowed it up and almost burned off his hand..." I paused, wiped away more tears. "We started pounding on the walls hoping that someone would hear us, but the fire just kept getting closer. Stefan tried to slam a hole in the wall, but...he couldn't—he just fell back on the floor and...and I think that's when he hit his head."

I gulped, swiped at my eyes singly with an index finger. "He passed out, and...and I had to drag him over to the corner, away from the fire." I sniffled, blinking and exhaling in sync. "I honestly...I...I thought I was going to die, and I just started crying. But then I heard a voice calling my name." I looked up, met the eyes of Alex, Sara, and Azalea as all three stared intently back at me; even Alex's face was overwritten with genuine worry, not wrinkled in that stupid, angry scowl he always seemed to be wearing lately.

"It...it was Principal Hollendale," I said. "He kicked in the door from the outside and ran in with a fire extinguisher. He saved us both, and he called an ambulance for Stefan right after. He wanted me to go to the hospital too, but I knew that you guys wouldn't know what had happened to me. So I ran to the parking lot while he was checking on Stefan, and I drove here as fast as I could."

I gulped again, felt still more tears pooling above my cheeks.

"...Whoa," Hunter finally spoke up, his eyes fixed on the road but his words full of empathy. "Hannah, that's awful."

"I know," I shuddered, shaking my head. "How much crap can happen to me in a single day?"

"So, wait," Alex said, "if you and Stefan are both okay, then why are we going to the hospital?"

"Because, Alex, whoever killed Eric wanted us to find him. And they didn't want either of us to make it out alive. I know I'm safe with you guys, but Stefan's a sitting duck in that hospital. White Robe's sure to try something unless we get there first."

"Hannah's right," Hunter said. "We can't let White Robe hurt anyone else."

During the latter half of the ride, Alex told us everything that had happened to him in the past few hours, Sara chiming in a few times to clarify her role in saving him. I'm ashamed to say it, but I was pretty jealous when all of the sympathy in the car shifted from me to Alex. The way Sara sat so close to him really didn't help either.

"Alright, everyone," Azalea said after Alex had finished. "I think it's safe to say none of us needs to go home alone tonight."

"Agreed," Hunter affirmed.

It was only a few more moments before we arrived at our destination. Hunter parked the car, and the five of us stepped out, then rushed inside Cade Senderson to find Stefan.

****

I was the first one to walk into Stefan's room, stepping in tentatively under the door's gentle creak. "Stefan," I tried, my voice slightly above a whisper as my eyes met his. "How're you feeling?"

"Hannah," he breathed, eyebrows lifting. "I'm...I'm okay." He paused. "Why'd you bring...so many people?"

"Trust me," Alex spat. "We wouldn't be here if we didn't have to."

"We're...here to help," Hunter managed. "Some really insane crap is going on, and we figured it'd be best if we all stuck together." He paused. "You're probably really confused right now—and to be honest, so are we. We don't know why the heck all of this is happening. But what we do know is that there's a serial killer out there hunting all of us."

Stefan coughed, and I instinctively moved closer to his side as Hunter continued:

"Yesterday, we got an envelope from this guy named Velden Veldenlock."

"Wait," Stefan interrupted. "Veldenlock? Isn't she that rogue cop who was—"

"Honestly," Hunter sighed, "we're not so sure. At first, we thought Velden's mom Earnestine was the killer. But it's looking like she may just be a victim in an even bigger plot. Velden gave us this package yesterday, and he gave us another one today before..." Hunter trailed off.

"Before he was murdered." Azalea stepped up beside Hunter. "White Robe followed Hunter and Hannah to Velden's house and shot him. And had it not been for Hunter's quick reflexes, he and Hannah might've been shot too. We haven't looked inside the packages yet; we were planning to open them tonight, but then you and Hannah and Alex almost got killed." She exhaled heavily. "Bottom line—we need to know what's in these packages, and we thought we should share whatever's in them with you as well."

"But...how do you know the packages are so valuable? How do you know that's why White Robe was trying to kill Velden?"

"We don't," Azalea replied bluntly. "All we know is some creepy woman named Ashley seems to think they're important. She's the one who gave them to Velden, and she went so far as to impersonate Earnestine just to get a little face time with Hunter. She seemed genuinely terrified. And given the recent turn of events, we're all pretty spooked too. The packages are all we've got so far, and we need to know anything they can possibly tell us about the killer."

Stefan nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay," he mused. "That makes sense."

Azalea opened the package we'd received the day before. The first thing she pulled out was a set of prison mug shots attached to a cutout of a newspaper article.

"Oh, my gosh," I gasped, reeling back the moment I saw them, "is that...?"

"My dad," Hunter confirmed. "That's him back during his college years."

"Your dad went to prison?" My eyes grew wide. "But what for?"

"Well," Azalea answered, "it says here that he was arrested for the murder of a member of the Scofield-Andrews College Admissions Board."

"I don't get it," Alex said. "Why would your dad want to kill an Admissions Board member at a school he never attended?"

"Hold on," I paused. "Azalea, isn't Scofield-Andrews the college your mom went to? The really prestigious one?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "But I still don't see how Hunter's dad is connected to...oh, my gosh!" She froze the moment her eyes scanned the last few lines of the cutout article. "You guys, look at this!"

Hunter leaned over her shoulder and began to read aloud: "The suspect, twenty-year-old Aaron Singleton, maintains his innocence and blames the murder on one Luvietta Jackson, whom Singleton claims fled the scene and set him up to take the fall."

"What!?" Azalea stepped back, her hands suddenly shaking. "You guys, if this is true, it could mean that...that my mom is a murderer." She shuffled through the different mug shots of Hunter's dad, breathing heavier and heavier.

"...What's in the other package?" I asked hesitantly.

Azalea still shaking, Hunter took the second manila envelope from her and opened it.

"Whoa," he drew a sharp breath. "It's an invitation...to a party that happened nineteen years ago. Look at the date." He handed me the invitation, and Alex looked over my shoulder.

"But wait," Alex cut in. "What does this party have to do with—?"

"Look at who it's addressed to," I spoke up. "Luvietta Jackson."

I flipped the invitation over. To the back was taped an old photograph of three people sitting at a bar, a candid shot of their eyes shut and heads cocked back in open-mouthed laughter. One of them had turned away when the picture was taken, so I couldn't make out her face, but I recognized the other two instantly:

"Hunter...that's your dad. A-and he's sitting next to Azalea's mom. This is insane—you guys' parents knew each other."

"I don't get it," Hunter mused. "My dad went to Hale, and Azalea's mom went to Scofield-Andrews. They're not even in the same county. How could the two of them have possibly...?" His eyes grew wide. "Wait...."

I stared back at him expectantly. "Hunter, what is it?"

"What's the date on that invitation?" He stared at me expectantly.

"Uh...October thirteenth."

"The Freaks of Fall Playoffs," he mused. "Every year, Hale challenges another school's football team to the Freaks of Fall Playoffs, and it's always in October. They must've challenged Scofield-Andrews that year, and this invitation must've been for the Festival of Freaks that they always have the night before the game. It's invite-only, and I'm guessing Azalea's mom was rich and popular enough to make the guest list."

"This is beyond insane." I breathed. "Are we saying Azalea's mom and your dad met at this...this festival, then she killed someone and blamed him for it? And even if she did, what does that have to do with...?" I paused, trailed off as I reexamined the photo—"Wait, Hunter, look at this!" I exclaimed suddenly. "This third person, the one who's looking away. Who does that look like to you?"

He squinted and focused in on the image. "Th—that's my mom," he gasped. "Do you think maybe she was involved too?"

"Yeah, or maybe she was the ringleader," I answered. "Think about it—she was at the party, she was in this picture, but she was never mentioned in the newspaper article. Maybe Ashley's trying to tell us your mom is the one who's really guilty of this murder. Like, maybe she set up your dad and Azalea's mom."

"But the article made it sound like my dad blamed Azalea's mom for everything. If it really was my mom who did it, why would he lie?"

"He was probably saying whatever his lawyers told him to say," Alex offered. "Maybe there wasn't any evidence to convict your mom and blaming everything on Luvietta was his only hope of being acquitted."

"I still don't get it." Hunter shook his head. "Why should any of this matter now? My mom's dead. How would Ashley think this brings us any closer to finding out who White Robe is?"

"...I—I don't know," I said. "You're right. Her giving us this package doesn't make sense."

Hunter paused. "Then I guess there's only one way to know for sure. I've gotta go talk to my dad."

"Do you really think he'll tell you the truth?" Alex asked. "I mean, you're just now figuring out that he has a record."

"I have to do something, Alex. I can't just sit around and wait for another body to turn up."

"I agree," Azalea added, finally lifting her head to speak again. "If one of our parents really did kill someone, we deserve to know why. We need answers, and we need them now."

****

As Azalea left with Hunter to go confront his dad, I stayed at the head of Stefan's bed while Alex and Sara stood closer to the doorway. I smiled down weakly at Stefan as he lay in his bed, the heaviness of the night feeling like a two-ton weight pressing on my shoulders.

"Hey, Sara," I faintly heard Alex whisper from across the room. "Could we maybe talk for a few? There's...something I kinda wanted to ask you about."

I twisted my head to where they both stood, watched Sara's face grow notably grave.

"O...okay, I guess," she said lowly in response.

"Don't wait up, Hannah," Alex spoke up, facing me for the first time. "We'll only be a moment." He turned, sauntered from the room, Sara trailing reluctantly behind him.

I know I was supposed to stay with Stefan, but pure and genuine curiosity mixed with frustration and indignation—both aimed at Alex—prompted me to follow them. I stole furtively out of Stefan's hospital room and hid behind a cart full of pill bottles the moment I made it to the hallway.

"Alright," I heard Alex say from just a few feet down the corridor of patient rooms. "We gave you what you wanted. You have your protection, and you know what we know. Now it's your turn, Sara." He sighed. "Where did you get that key from?"

With some hesitation, Sara finally answered. "Alma gave it to me."

Alex crossed his arms. "Why would she give you a key?"

"Because it wasn't just a key—it was the key that saved my life."

I gasped audibly, then berated myself for having been so loud.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, Alex," Sara sighed. "My family's a lot like yours. We didn't come to this country legally. We had a hideout in New Mexico, but then somehow the cops found us. Me and my brother Cristobal were the only ones to make it out—my mom and dad were both murdered. The police tracked them down, and..." she trailed off, tears catching in her voice. "They surrendered voluntarily, but they were shot anyway when they wouldn't reveal where Cris and I were hiding. We fled to California, but the police kept searching. Not long after arriving here, I was captured." She sniffled twice. "The police were prepared to torture me for my brother's location, until suddenly someone cut the lights in the station, and this woman grabbed me—took me downstairs to the basement and said to keep quiet. She used the key to unlock the same passageway I opened for you, and we both escaped."

I could tell by his wide-eyed silence that Alex was very taken aback by all of this, but Sara continued without hesitation:

"The woman who saved me was Alma. And that day, I became a nurse, as well as the official field-services coordinator at her hospital."

"W—what does that mean?" Alex asked.

"Basically, it's the person responsible for saving people like us," Sara said. "Alma's already forty, Alex. She can't afford to keep running around town looking for undocumented immigrants soon to be deported by the cops. So she gave me the key, and she taught me how to use the secret routes in this town to escape the police.

"This key gets me in and out of the police station at will. It's also a key to the fuse box that connects to the station's electricity supply."

This is insane, I thought to myself. Who is this girl!?

"After I get the people I'm trying to save away from the police, if we can make it to the hospital, they're home free. I write up a grave diagnosis, and they stay in the hospital for days, weeks, or even months, depending on how long it takes for Alma to find a contact who can get them to a safe place." She paused. "And that, Alex, is why this key is so important."

I glanced up from behind the cart where I was crouched, peeking between vertical strips of metal and transparent orange vials. Alex looked dazed, his mouth hanging agape at Sara.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked him, taking a step closer.

"I'm sorry—this is just a lot to digest. I can't believe you and Alma run a...a smuggling ring."

"Wha—Alex!?" Sara gasped. "It's not a smuggling ring. These aren't drugs; they're people! People whose lives the police are trying to ruin just because of where they were born."

Alex shook his head. "Sara, this is wrong. It's one thing for Alma to run a hospital that takes patients no one else will, but it's totally different to run a 'shelter' that uses fake diagnoses to help illegals escape under the cover of night."

"Illegals!? Alex, what's gotten into you? Since when did human beings become illegals? I would have thought you of all people would have at least been a little sympathetic! Especially after what happened to your uncle."

"Gil? Nothing happened to—"

"Not Gil, Alex. I'm talking about Juan."

Alex froze. "How did you know about—?"

"Alma told me." Sara placed a hand on her right hip. "She told me how Juan got betrayed by that coyote who promised to help your family make it to America. Alex, your uncle Juan took a bullet for you. They dumped his body in some stupid ocean, and all you can talk about is how 'illegal' it is for me and Alma to try to prevent other kids from losing the ones they love."

Alex was silent for several moments as Sara stared earnestly into his eyes.

"Sara," Alex finally responded, "I'm just saying this is exactly the kind of activity that gives us a bad reputation, and..." He trailed off.

As I stared on, what looked like tears began streaming down Sara's face.

"Sara, I'm sorry," Alex tried. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just...how are we ever going to prove we're different if...if we can't even be honest in the way we're going after citizenship?"

Sara was silent.

"My dad works his hands to the bone every day, and so does my mom. They don't even get paid half of what the law says they should be earning, and it's all because they're not legal residents." He paused, the words trembling from between his lips. "I love how dedicated you are to seeing that our people are well taken care of, but this operation you and Alma are running is only going to make things worse. There comes a time when somebody has to be the better man. The legal system will grant us what we want if we can prove we deserve it."

"Alex, I admire your optimism, but wake up—we both know that this nation's 'legal system' isn't that cut and dry. Try to remember that the police murdered my parents when they could have easily just caught and deported them. But do you think any jury this side of the Río Grande is ever going to make them pay for it?" She paused. "I'm not asking you to help me. I'm not even asking you to like me. But I need you to keep this a secret." Her eyes were pleading.

Alex paused for a moment. "Sara," he finally said, "that's the thing—I do like you. In fact, I might even love you. I'm not trying to be judgmental. And of course I'll keep it a secret." He moved closer to her, wrapping his hands firmly around hers.

She gazed forward, her eyes both passionate and cautious—unsure of just what her feelings were for him at that moment, but unquestionably moved by them...and by his for her.

And in an instant, it was as if a blazing spring geyser erupted within their souls, releasing the flurry of emotions that lay dormant inside. They moved closer, their eyes locking onto each other like heat-seeking missiles...and Alex made Sara Reyes-Jiménez the second girl he'd ever kissed.