"Everything okay, Cora?"

You leap from your spot at Karika's voice, your body going into survival mode. Whose finger is that? It isn't hers; she has ten digits. Could it have been from the guys that came here with the guns? What kind of stuff happened out here while you guys were in the storage area?

"Yeah," you say, your voice cracking. You quickly bend down to snatch up the fork off the ground, stomach turning. "Just dropped a fork."

Her brow furrows and she steps forward. "You look pale. Are you feeling okay? You aren't having another panic attack, are you?"

You shake your head, concerned for your safety and trying not to let it show.

"No, no I'm good," you say, letting the fork clatter into the sink as you dart by her. The boys sit at the table, bickering passive-aggressively, and you suddenly just want to leave the place in general. However, the last time you went out on your own, you were caught by Greasy and Fedora and were shot.

Could those have been the guys that were here earlier?

"Cora, you sure you're alright?" Karika asks, her brown eyes filled with concern for you. You nod your head and try to smile.

"I'm going to go for a walk."

Karika furrows her brow. "Are you sure? You don't seem to be in the condition to walk off by yourself in the cold. Besides," she says, her voice dropping a decibel to keep her words from reaching the guys, "you saw the butterfly. You need to be extra careful."

An icy-hot arrow flies down your spine. What if you saw the butterfly because Karika would be the one to kill you? No, that couldn't be it. She'd never hurt you, right? Or maybe you could get hurt because of her. Maybe those guys are pressuring her about something and if she stops paying up, they'll decapitate her or something, or go after her friends and family.

Paranoia wins.

You need to get out of here.

"I will. Don't worry. I'll—I'll be back later. Promise."

Clutching your phone in your hand, you dart back through the kitchen, nerves on fire as you push the door open. Suddenly, you wish to be back where you had been, snuggled up next to Chris or at the River with Peter. Either of those situations would be better than finding a finger under Karika's sink.

A gust of chilly wind meets you as you head in any direction. Toward the cemetery?

No, you tell yourself, pulling your sweater tighter around you as another gust makes you shiver. You need to know what Karika is mixed up in and if you're in any danger, and you need to figure out if Peter, Chris, Oliver, and Max are jumbled up with her. You know where her house is. You know where her key is.

You can feel your heart in your throat as you look around you, hoping no one is following as you silently thank Chris for showing you around in your last reboot. Peter's been glued to your side all day, as was Chris last time. You've had no time to yourself, so it's a strange, lonely feeling being alone, especially after what happened when you did go off on your own.

Sure no one's following you, you begin to sprint as your phone rings. Pulling it out, you see Peter's name across the screen. You shiver, your body warming up quickly as you exercise.

"Hello?" You say, stopping to walk as you try to sound as if you haven't been running the past minute.

"Where are you?"

Peter's strong voice comes through the phone as worried and desperate.

"I'm walking. Don't worry, I know the address to the shop and I can put it in the GPS on my phone if I get lost."

"I don't think it's best for you to be going off on your own in a town like this."

You sigh, Karika's apartment in view. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"I don't think you understand—"

He cuts off, the line going dead in a flurry of static. Pulling the phone away from your ear, you see an unknown caller is trying to reach you. The optimistic side of your heart jumps to conclusions, hoping it's You Know, but the other side of is afraid. You Know said that if he disappeared from this world, there'd be people who could potentially kill you. Could this be them?

You answer the call and put it up to your ear, not saying a word.

Static.

The line goes dead.

Your heartbeat is in your throat.

If I ever get in contact with you again, you'll know it's me.

That's what You Know said before saying goodbye. Would he try to reach out so soon?

You exhale.

If it was You Know, then wouldn't you know? You wouldn't be dubious?

Then again, if it wasn't... what does that mean for you?

Walking briskly, you open your contacts and delete his number, finally doing what he had told you to do before. You wipe your messages clean and you call history, keeping the one from the unknown caller. Just as Peter advised, you dart into your settings and turn off all location permissions and even your connection to the internet. What would you need it for right now, anyway?

Surprised and actually impressed at yourself for somehow getting to Karika's apartment, you lift the rock in front of her door and pull the key out from underneath. Feeling like a burglar, you unlock the door and step inside. With a quick turn to lock the door, you shove the key into your pocket.

The last time you were here, Karika explained to you that there were hidden weapons in the walls, floors, and even the furniture. If the same rule applies to things she finds important or secretive, you expect to find something hidden away that might give you some clues as to what's going on in Karika's life. Maybe seeing the butterfly is something good. Maybe it means that this isn't the right reality and it's a warning that this isn't the right path to take. If so, then that means you need to learn all you can before you reboot again.

You start with the floors. Scratching your nails gently across the surface you find the little pocket that Karika had pulled her knives from when you saw her get shot. The memory pains you, but you move on, nothing else in the hole.

Carefully, you put the piece of wood back and continue your search as you reach the carpet. You find two secret latches in the walls, both harboring guns, and about five more weapons hidden in the living room. She must be either paranoid or hiding something... or maybe she's trying to protect herself against whatever forces she's up against. Whatever the reason, that severed finger won't get out of your mind. You have to find something. Asking her might just—

A knock at the door.

The blood in your veins turn to slush as you feel your fingers tremble.

You run quietly into her bedroom as another round of knocks breaks through the air, and you shut the door, trying to keep the click silent as you lock it, deep in your paranoia. You stand with baited breath as there's a third knock, body tense. A few minutes pass and you hope to God it was a door-to-door salesperson and not anything like the people who broke in here last time.

You run your hands across the wooden floor, sounding like a dog digging and trying to be quiet about it. Butterflies dance in your stomach as you find two more holes in the ground, along with three buttons in places you wouldn't have noticed before. One is where a screw should be on her headboard, another is right beneath the switch for her lamp that rests by her bed, and the third is hidden behind her dresser, blending in with the wall.

Your phone begins to vibrate like crazy.

Pulling it out of your pocket, you see Karika's name flashing on the screen. You weigh the penalties for answering it. If you don't answer it, will she find you suspicious?

She shouldn't; she doesn't know you suspect anything. She probably doesn't even know you know she has a spare key lying around outside.

Something about that suddenly strikes you as strange.

A girl who is careful enough to conceal every weapon she has, has a spare key laying around beneath a rock outside her front door. A girl who could create her own little uprising with how many weapons and ammunition you've found. You want to believe that she's just confident that she can take down anyone who gets in, but...

Something isn't right about Karika.

You answer it, finally.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" Karika asks. For the first time, her voice is sharp toward you, brinking with a sense of danger.

"Walking," you say, continuing to search. Another hidden pocket in the wall, a photograph concealing it. The inside is filled with minstrel supplies. You close it quietly.

"No, you aren't," she says matter-of-factly. "You turned off your location services and disconnected from the internet. Where are you, Cora?"

Your heart accelerates. "Walking. I just felt extra cautious, is all. Last time, they tracked me easily and you died. I don't want that happening again."

It's a half-truth, so you shrug off the guilt that follows, lifting up a larger painting in the center of the wall. You bite your lip as you come across another hidden pocket. Quietly laying the heavy painting on the bed, you keep your breathing light.

"Bull." Her word sends a shock of chills down your spine. This is the first time she's been aggressive towards you, and you're terrified now that you're on the receiving end. "You're doing something you don't want us to know about, am I right?"

You shake your head. "Why would I do something like that?"

You hear her exhale heavily into the phone, irritated. "You can't leave the city, Cora," she says in a quieter tone. You assume she's around Chris and/or Peter because they don't know about the rebooting and it sounds like she's trying to keep her voice down. You try to slow your heart rate as you open the wall. A small electronically-locked vault door about the size of a tablet stares back at you, the cogs in your brain hesitating before each rotation. You would need a code, one you don't know, and you don't believe she'd keep it laying around somewhere like the key. Not if the information that could be inside of here is that sensitive.

You hear Karika hesitate. "You don't have to be afraid of us."

Her words stop you cold.

"What do you mean?" you ask, thankful your voice doesn't tremor.

You suddenly hear the knob to the bedroom shake.

"Where are you, Cora?" Karika asks again, her voice quiet, dripping with something that dares you to answer honestly. Your stomach leaps into your throat and you pull the phone from your ear slowly as the knob jerks again.

"Cora?"

Karika's voice cracks as you hang up. She has a gun in the closet but the button is on the doorknob. You could tiptoe over to it and press it, but what if whoever is outside gets in before you can?

Pressing and holding the lock button on your phone, you turn it off. The last thing you'd want is for it to vibrate and give away your position if they do make it in. Should you hide in the closet? There are plenty of clothing articles. If you hid beneath the bed, you'd be squished and in a worse spot to escape due to the squeeze.

You take a step toward the door but lose your nerve as the knob jiggles again. Short of breath, you dart into the closet, trying to make as little noise as possible. You bury yourself beneath a large pile of shoes and discarded clothing in the corner of the wide closet, the width just perfect for you to fit in comfortably. Feeling cowardly, you bury yourself until you can't see any light, getting comfortable just as you hear the door click open. Someone walks into the room.

For a brief second, they hesitate in the doorway. You hear them search the room, even feel their presence as they peer into the closet. There's a shift in your hiding place as they move something that's on top of the pile and set it back down, apparently satisfied there's no one in here.

"Guess it was left open," you hear someone mutter, his voice deep and airy, the clothes around you muffling its true sound. Your nerves buzz all-the-more at knowing it's a man that has entered the house. Does Karika know this person?

There are four beeps that ring out through the room, and you try to keep your breath quiet, fingers filtering the noises your mouth creates.

There's the sound of something clicking.

The man mutters to himself with a sigh and you hear something shut. The sound of his footsteps lets you know he's left the room, shutting the door behind him.

You let out a heavy sigh, keeping quiet just in case, and sit still to listen. The front door doesn't open nor shut and ice prickles under your skin. He hasn't left yet?

The front door opens. Closes.

For what feels like an eternity, you continue to sit still, your body aching from the lack of movement.

How did he get in? Through a window? A back door you haven't seen yet? The front door was locked... was he the person that had been knocking?

Finally feeling like you're in the clear, you begin to move things from you without making too much noise. Confirming no one is in the closet with you, you stand and peek out into the room. He had rehung the painting. Does that mean he went into the vault, too? How did he know the code?

You step out of the closet, thanking your shoes for not clunking against the floorboards, and look around you. You peek in every crevice you can find until you're satisfied there's no one in here with you. Slowly exhaling, you place a hand over your heart and close your eyes. The key seems to burn a hole in your pocket as you begin to feel like this was a waste of a trip.

You reach for the knob, your eyes catching on the button Karika had pressed to open the wall in the closet where the gun is. Maybe you should take it to keep yourself protected.

You shake your head.

That's Karika's favorite gun. If it went missing and she found that you took it...

But maybe you can use it as a bargaining chip to get the answers you want.

You let out a trembling breath, deciding not to take the gun. You've already crossed a line, entering her home unannounced and unwelcome. And someone else came in... What did they want?

You stare at the painting.

What's in the safe?

You close your hand around the knob and turn, only to find it stuck, as if someone is holding it from the other side. Your stomach drops to the floor and your body heats, every fiber of your being screaming that you've been caught. Panic fills your bloodstream.

Whoever you thought left is still in the apartment.

And they knew you were there.