"MR. RIVERTON?"

I roll over in my slumber.

"Mr. Riverton?" I am shaken gently. I do not respond.

"Who are you?" Titus questions.

"I am a friend," the strange female voice speaks. "Are you Titus Riverton?"

"Rivers, but yeah, technically," he speaks with suspicion. "I'm his--"

"Brother. Yes, I am aware."

Titus remains silent for a moment.

"Don't bother Metro. He hasn't slept all night," he speaks, tension in his voice.

"I am sorry to hear that," she says. "I want to offer all of you a more comfortable place to stay. It is nothing luxurious, but perhaps better than sleeping on the floor as you are now."

"Who the hell are you?" annoyance fills Titus' voice.

"My name is Rayah," she states.

"Rayah...?"

"Just Rayah."

"Okay?"

"Please, do not worry. I am here to help you, and Metro, and Sommer."

"Are you a doctor or something?"

"No."

"Why didn't you mention Jagger?"

Rayah takes a few moments to respond.

"I heard about the shooting," she says. "I offer you my deepest sympathies."

"Do you know how he's doing?" Titus asks, a hint of hidden despair in his voice.

"He is alive, but unresponsive. Mr. Kensington is doing all that he can."

"You mean...he's like...a vegetable?"

"It is extremely rare to survive a shot to the head, I am afraid."

"Yeah. I know."

There is silence for a moment.

"That is an interesting hairstyle," the woman says in attempt to brighten the mood. "The gray is quite tasteful, actually."

"Thanks."

I hear Titus sniffling as the strange woman sits down on the floor.

"May I offer you a tissue?"

"Thanks."

"How long have you three been staying in the janitorial closet here?"

"I don't know--two, three days maybe? Honestly, time's just been standing still for me."

"Quite understandable. Mr. Kensington was certainly kind in bringing you here."

"Who's Mr. Kensington?"

"Julian Kensington."

"Right." Titus blows his nose in the tissue.

"Very generous of him to offer his personal medical room and equipment for Jagger's sake. He is very much risking his life by helping in such a way, you know."

"Metro and Jagger said he was an asshole. I thought Metro and him were sorta enemies."

"One can have a change of heart, no?"

"So suddenly?"

"When Julian witnessed your performance, in the auditorium there, he must have realized what Mr. Riverton was on about. Especially when he realized you and Metro are siblings."

"How did you know about that?" Titus asks the question I was concerned with.

"I have made it my duty to be highly aware of your situation."

"Right."

The tension in Titus' voice begs me to turn around and address the situation. My mind clouded with exhaustion, I shift, sitting upright and facing the two of them. I recognize the woman immediately.

"I have seen you," I state to Rayah. She nods, smiling warmly.

"Indeed, Mr. Riverton."

Her dark skin is deep and pure, eyes vivid and blue--sparkling as though they were stars. She curls a strand of her course ringlets behind her ear.

"You were the English substitute teacher, whom my peers found to be inspiring."

She nods.

"How flattering." She smiles. "However, my lecture was rather directed at you, Mr. Riverton. Or would you prefer Metro?"

"Metro is more personal, don't you think?" Titus introjects. "I'm sure we can be on a first-name basis."

"Very true, Titus. I appreciate your method of thought." Rayah rakes her hair with her fingers.

"Why are you here, Rayah?" I ask her. "Have you come to assist us?"

Her bright eyes twinkle with enthusiasm, drawing life in with her natural warmness. Her teeth are like pearls against her dark, chocolate-coloured skin.

"Yes, I suppose so," she says. "I belong to a group of rebels like yourselves."

"Rebels?" Titus yawns.

"Well, that is what we are, essentially," Rayah comments.

"Sorry, I don't know if I understand what's going on." He shakes his head. "Maybe because I feel half-dead right now."

"Not to worry, Titus. We ravens, we will save you," Rayah speaks, rising slowly.

"Ravens?"

"Yes. And you will become a raven, too," her voice mesmerizes with mystery.

Rayah extends her open palm, hair dark and course like the feathers of the black bird.

I look to Sommer; her sobbing has ceased now. I remember the free raven I saw in her eyes, the recognizable wings of the independent Sommer she once was. She has been robbed of her wings now. We all have.

I take Rayah's hand.