In the room next door, Joe was preparing a place for Cassie to sleep on the window seat. He stacked books into a pile so she could have some privacy and lined up cotton balls and washcloths for her to use as a bed. Then he set her down behind the books. "All set, Princess?"

"This is perfect. Thank you."

"Well, um, good night, then," he said, suddenly feeling awkward. He tried to think of a catchy one-liner that would give him an excuse to Modify down to fairy size and join her, even if it was just to talk. But everything that may have worked in the real world seemed out of context in his predicament. "Yeah, holler if you need anything," he said through a slight cough. His throat was suddenly dry. "I can't promise I'll hear you, but you can always try."

She sat down on the cushion and brought her knees to her chest. "Good night, Joe."

Joe sensed the closure in her voice and motioned with his hands that he was leaving. After he shut off the lamp, he collapsed on the bed and looked toward the moonlit window. He wished for a few minutes that he could see what Cassie was doing behind those books, but soon enough, exhaustion subdued his curiosity.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Gretchen woke up in her master suite, overheated underneath her thick comforter, her mind whirling with memories stirred up by the arrival of her guests.

The digital clock on her nightstand read 2:50. She tossed and turned for a while but couldn't get back to sleep. Once she admitted defeat, she turned on the television. As she was flipping channels, she was surprised to see her nephew's face on the news. Recent pictures of his wife and children followed.

Then she remembered Chris's scabs and yellowing bruises, his poorly explained missing children, his lack of a wedding ring, and his weird behavior.

He could be a murderer, and he's in my house.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Cassie shuddered underneath her washcloth covers, awake because of another nightmare. In the three nights since they'd left Pyxis, her odd, disrupted sleep had been filled with such dreams. It was as if her mother had found a way inside her head. Andromeda was clawing around in there, leaving her signature in the color red.

Cassie was afraid to go back to sleep but was struggling to stay awake, so she dragged her bed closer to the window. She lay back down and gazed at the sky. The nearly full moon seemed to fill the entire world with cool tranquility. As she tried counting the stars, noting all constellations as she passed them by, she had never felt tinier or more insignificant.

Her eyes drifted closed again. She kept re-opening them with great effort. Open, closed—and there was her mother's ghastly face, her long nails poised to tear flesh from bone. Open! Cassie gasped for breath, but her racing heart demanded more and more air. Her lungs could hardly keep up.

Cassie stared at the stars again and calmed herself by focusing on Joe's rhythmic breathing and the whir coming from the heating vent. Open, closed—this time she could barely hear her own scream over the sound of shattering glass. Open! She sat up, hugged her knees, and wrapped the washcloth over her shoulders. Even then, her stubborn eyes refused to stay open.

In a state of half consciousness, she heard another unsettling sound—a dull mechanical drone. An automobile, she realized, without opening her eyes. She should have been used to that sound by now, but something wasn't quite right. The noise of a moving car should have peaked and subsided to silence within a few seconds. For some reason, though, the hum was steady and it was joined by a choir of others, each with its unique intonation.

She lifted her heavy eyelids and noticed three black vehicles in front of Gretchen's house that definitely had not been there before. Smoke was pluming from their tailpipes and then, abruptly, the noise and smoke stopped. At first, nothing happened; no one moved, and that included Cassie. She was frozen still.

Before she could render her next breath, men with weapons in hand exited the vehicles with the coordination and discipline of an army. They hustled toward Gretchen's house, crouching and using hand signals.

Cassie sprang to her feet and went to the edge of the window seat, almost forgetting that it was a long way down. She circled back along the outer edge and checked for alternative ways to the floor. No solution took form. The nearest piece of furniture was a few human strides away.

"Joe!" she screamed. The cavernous room swallowed her voice. She yelled again using her hands to amplify the sound. His rhythmic breathing didn't pause.

Desperate now, she reconsidered the distance to the floor and scanned the area one last time. She finally noticed the curtains tied to the side of the window. They nearly reached the ground. She ran over to them and fumbled with the sheer fabric until she found the edge. She latched on to it and slid down, dangling on the last bit, preparing herself for the drop. It would hurt, she knew, but she didn't hesitate. Upon landing, she was lucky to experience only a twinge in one ankle.

She hobbled toward Joe's bed as fast as she could and made one last attempt to wake him. Again, he did not stir. He had his head buried beneath the covers and was facing the center of the bed.

She had no time to waste, so she kept moving. She slipped through the cracked-open door, scurried along the hallway wall, and slipped underneath Chris's closed door.

He was facing the edge of the bed. His elbow was hanging off the side and he had his hand tucked under the pillow. His sleep seemed restless, his breaths shaky and intermittent.

"Chris," Cassie called from the floor.

His eyes pinched more tightly shut in response to her voice. Then he shifted to his back.

"Chris!"

Even from the floor, Cassie felt him jolt awake. He rolled back over to the edge of the bed. Within seconds, he was reaching for her. "What's wrong?"

"S-W-A-T," she spelled for him. "What does that mean?"

Chris's wide eyes made an explanation unnecessary. He carried her into Joe's room in his loose fist.

"Joe!" he said loud enough to jar him. Chris gave him a firm shake, too. "We've got trouble. Get up. Hide!"

Joe sat up, though not with any urgency. "Oh, for the love of God! What's wrong now?"

Chris crouched and shuffled to the window to confirm Cassie's report. "Just Modify. Now!"

Joe vanished as directed, and with Cassie still in hand, Chris darted back into the hall.

A door opened down below. "They're upstairs," he heard Gretchen say.

The sound of moving feet spurred Chris's jog into a dash.

Once inside his room, he placed Cassie inside the top drawer of the nightstand where Ryan and Morgan were sleeping, and pushed it closed to a crack.

From within the drawer, Cassie could only count Chris's frantic footsteps—far too many, for far too long.

Cassie's hands flew to her mouth when she heard and angry voice say, "Put your hands up! Nobody move!"

Just when Cassie believed Chris wasn't able to Modify in time, she saw his legs dangle over the side of the drawer. He slipped inside.

Though it was dark, it was not dark enough for her gloom-accustomed eyes. It shouldn't have come as a shock that he'd be naked. And she should have been prepared to shy her eyes away, but that didn't happen, not fast enough.

While he rummaged with his fairy clothes, every muscle in her body constricted. All she could do was pinch her eyes shut and hope the suffocating feeling would pass. And despite her worries, fears, and the dread of discovery, she couldn't dispel the image of him.

He was. . .

Too much to process. . .

Her eyes sprung open when Chris grabbed her arm. He brought her to the darkest corner and then dragged the bed he made for his children to the same place, with them still sleeping peacefully within it. As time ticked by, his breathing became slower and calmer. It was easier to hear the men in the room. Their footsteps gradually faded to a distant rumble.

"Well, that was close," Chris whispered.

"Do you think they're gone?"

"They'll filter in and out, check all the rooms and outside. When they can't find me, they'll be searching for clues. We should get out of here as soon as we can. This is one of the first places they might check."

"And then what?" she asked.

"I don't know. I don't have any answers right now."

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Flyleaf. All Around Me.

~

"This fire rising through my being

Burning I'm not used to seeing

You. . ."

https://youtu.be/417YOjyl1kg