The no crying rule definitely lasted no more than an hour.

I sob on her shoulder, a choking fit of wailing. It's that awful, ugly crying where you can't help but cough and shake. Her arms feel secure and warm. When Kai walks in, I ask him illegibly between the heavy weeping, "You can see her, too?"

Somehow, he understands me. "Yeah," he says, shocked. "Yeah, I can."

It's real. It feels real. It is real. She's flesh, she's physically here. It's almost an out of body feeling, and I don't care why or how she got here. Just that she's here.

And then it hits me, amidst all the thoughts rushing through my head.

I made a deal with the devil.

***

"One second I was dead, and the next, I'm standing in the middle of the cemetery, looking at my own headstone."

I swallow hard, pushing back the tears from restarting. "Do you remember?" I ask, lips pursed. "Do you remember dying?"

She bites her lip so hard that the flesh beneath it turns milky white. "I remember, baby. I remember it all."

Kai's voice pipes up, sounding urgently curious. "Do you remember what happened after that?"

"It was a flash of my entire life," she says. "And then, heaven." I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"D-Did you know what was happening here?" I ask. "Could you...see?"

She grows taut, her jaw clenching tightly. "Arden," she sighs. "There are some...situations that people act in a way that they wouldn't otherwise." She pauses, as if carefully racking her brain for the most non-confronting way to say whatever it is she is about to say. "I saw you kill the pack," she declares. She says it in a factual way, like she doesn't have an opinion on the matter. "You're more powerful than I was." She grabs my hand. "I know it may seem like he's the beginning and the end of everything you are - everything that is - but you need to think with your head and your heart. He's not the voice of reason. But you can be."

She doesn't say his name but I know exactly who she's talking about.

The next two days, I keep to myself and my mom. There is nothing that I want to do other than be by her side, doing something, anything with her.

Most of the time, we talk. We talk about sirens, Theo, Kai, the Vinceret pack and the Wild Hunt. I learn a lot about her. She killed only the bad ones, she tells me. Only the the fascists, the sadistic.

I learn about what it's like after death. She doesn't remember much at all, except that it felt like the feeling of happy late summer evenings. I nod like I know what she's talking about, even though I barely remember what it's like to have a careless summer evening. She tells me about my father, about the affair, about Lucien. She had only ever seen him once.

He became the alpha of the Vinceret pack after my father died. I asked her how. "A true alpha," she breathed. I asked her how again. "A true alpha doesn't always become one through honour and courage," she says. "Being an alpha is all about leadership. There are many things Lucien wasn't, but the one thing he was was a good leader."

On the third day, I finally talk to someone other than my mom or Kai. Lydia Martin, prim and put-together as ever sits with her legs crossed on my couch. Even when she seems to be in a frantic state, she does it in a sort of strong, silent way.

"His name was Stiles," she says. Her lips are pressed together tightly, her posture rigid. "The person you felt was missing at the hospital. The person the Wild Hunt took. His name was Stiles."

"Lydia..."

"Arden, don't ask me how," she urges, "but his name was Stiles. And I think I loved him." She pauses. "Please. Help us find him."

I bite my lip. "What do you need?"

Her eyebrows dip into an urgent, melancholy expression. "You felt that he wasn't there, Arden," she says. "You must remember something else." She sighs. "We'll discuss this at school."

I scowl. "Who said I agreed to go back to the hellhole?"

"Well, you already went to one hell," a voice behind me says. I turn to see my mom leaning against the wall, a small smile on her lips. "Think of this as punishment for doing something stupid." She pauses. "See? Already feels normal again. Thank you, Lydia. Look after my baby at school."

A slight grin creeps its way up to Lydia's face. This is what she does best, stays put together. "I will, Ms Dimitri. Don't you worry." She pauses. "I'll wait outside for you to get your stuff."

I nod quickly, before heading upstairs. I scramble to pack all my books in my bag, and by the time I swing it over my shoulder, it's agonisingly heavy.

"You leaving me for school?" Kai's voice says from behind me. "What am I supposed to do now? Hang around with people my own age?"

I chuckle, slipping on my sneakers. "I don't even want to go." I pause. "But now that I think about it, maybe it is better than spending time with you. Look after my mom." I jab my index finger at his chest. "Promise."

He grabs my wrist and puts it back beside me, his lips curving upwards. "Maybe it's good for you. You know, doing something productive for once."

I step outside of my room, scurrying to get to Lydia. "And when have you done anything productive, like, at all?"

"I'm more productive than you," he retorts. I approach my mom and squeeze her tightly, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Text me every hour, okay?" I tell her. "To make sure you're safe."

"Hey, Arden?" Kai says. "You don't need to worry about that. I'll keep her safe."

"Thank you," I say. "I mean it. I'll see you both, later."

They both farewell me as I walk out of the house, a knot of anxiety forming in my belly. I hurry down to the front gate and haul it open before making a beeline to Lydia's car. I drop into the passenger seat. "Thank you for coming to see me," I say. "I needed that."

When I say the words, it feels almost normal again. Well, as normal as things can get these days.

"No problem," she says. "So, how have you been?"

I pause, carefully considering my words. For the first time, I allow myself to think about how extraordinarily miraculous the past few days have been. "I thought I'd lost everything." I gnaw on my lip. "I don't know how to explain it. It's almost an out of body sort of happiness, you know? Like you can't believe it's happening?"

"What are you going to do about Theo?" she asks, turning a corner.

I feel guilt coursing through me. Theo. How could I forget?

"You don't need to feel bad, Arden," she says. Another outstanding thing about Lydia: she seems to be able to dissect anyone. Whether because she's a banshee, or not, I don't know. "You're allowed to be happy. That's what Theo would've wanted."

I look down, avoiding her stare. "Is it?"

"He's dead, Arden," she reinforces. "He doesn't think anything of anything."

I swallow. "Do you think he's coming back?"

She purses her lips, readjusting her hand on the wheel. "I don't know," she says. "Either way, you have to make sure you make your decisions for you, Arden."

"I know that," I say defensively. "I do." I quickly change the subject. "What about the Wild Hunt? Any information on them?"

"No," she says gravely. "All we know is that they travel by lightning, everyone they take leaves a relic behind and that anyone who sees them is next to go."

I sigh. "It doesn't add up. None of it does."

"I know," she murmurs. "I mean, Claudia should be dead. If the sheriff and Claudia gave birth to Stiles before all this..." she trails off.

"Then that's why she's alive," I finish for her. "But, wait. If Claudia isn't dead, then shouldn't everything Stiles did reverse?"

"I don't know," she whispers. "It doesn't make sense."

I nod as she pulls in to the school. "It will, though," I say, trying desperately to instil some hope into the banshee. "You guys always figure it out, don't you?"

She nods, but she looks like she only half believes it.

After walking up the stairs, heading our separate ways to our lockers and me struggling to remember my locker, I finally make it to my first class.

Physics with Mr Douglas. He must be a new teacher since I haven't heard of him before. I walk through the open doorway. Mr Douglas is a tall, youngish teacher with dark blonde hair, grey eyes and heavy set eyebrows. Something about him seems off. I'm not sure why or how, but as he broods behind his desk, I catch something dark about him.

I scan the classroom and almost immediately spot Lydia sitting alone. I make a beeline towards her with an internal sigh of relief. Thank god she's in this class. I drop down into the seat next to her. "He's scary," I say, nodding towards the front of the classroom.

"He's hot," Lydia corrects me.

"Well, yeah," I mumble. "But he's weird."

"Are you two finished whispering?" the gruff, impatient voice of Mr Douglas cuts in. "Let's begin."

He goes off on a tangent about, well, physics. I try my hardest to keep up, even though I'd rather throw myself out of the window than learn about astrophysics.

All of a sudden, my desk starts shaking ever so slightly and I look over at my phone. Kai.

"Miss Caraway," Mr Douglas says, "can you please turn that off?"

I grab the phone and rise from my seat. I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I feel the eyes of the class bore into me. "Sorry, I have to take this one."

As I make a dash towards the door of the classroom, Mr Douglas snipes, "Do I need to remind you how much of school you've missed already?"

I don't answer and instead pull open the door, getting the hell away from there. I answer the call and hold it up to my ear. "Kai? Is she alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "But -"

"Kai I'm in class!"

"Oh, come on, Arden. We both know you didn't want to be in class." I sigh in response as he continues. "Listen. I know you don't have your powers anymore, but I need to know if you can still help me."

"What?"

"Remember that list I gave you?" he prompts.

"Oh, fuck!" I think back to the crumpled piece of paper in my jacket pocket which has by now been through the washing machine at least a few times since then.

"Don't worry," he reassures. "Just remember the name Kane Jefferson."

Something tugs at my memory and I again repeat a curse word. "No way," I say. "He's in my physics class." I think about the short, scrawny kid with braces and glasses who answered every question. "You're scared of him? He's younger and smaller than you."

"He's a witch, Arden. And he's here to try and kill me."

I roll my eyes, pacing back and forth. "Dude, I can't even control a werewolf right now, let alone kill a witch."

I hear the door shut and I look behind me, only to see the tall figure of Mr Douglas staring at me blankly. I cringe at how strange I must've sounded just then.

"Okay, I'm going to have to let you go, Kai. You know how much I love school!" I say in an overtly faux enthusiastic tone. I shut the phone, cutting the witch off from whatever he was going to say.

"Hi," I say to the teacher, folding my arms over my chest and squaring my shoulders.

"Are you alright?" he asks. "You sounded panicked in class."

I shake my head, smiling as brilliantly as I can. "Not panicked. Not at all," I say, again in an exaggeratedly happy tone. "I'm doing just dandy."

"Miss Caraway," he says. "If you don't mind me saying, you sound the farthest thing from alright."

I sigh. "I'm fine."

As the day drags on, I find myself conjuring up how exactly I'm going to kill the scrawny kid in my class. Of course, my powers are no longer functioning, but I did make a deal. And to not uphold my end would be very dangerous - especially now.

My last class of the day is psychology. I'm in a class with Scott and Lydia. I don't find psychology boring and it ranks as one of my favourite subjects. Something about cognitive function and mental processes fascinates me - finding out why and how people behave in different ways. I suppose because it's relevant, in a way. In the supernatural world, it's vital to be one step ahead of everyone else.

"The corpus callosum is not only the largest white matter structure in the brain, but also the bridge connecting all parts of the brain to each other," the teacher says. "That ability for all parts of the brain to communicate, and to work together, help us make leaps in cognitive thinking.
Any questions, thoughts, insight, Lydia?"

Lydia snaps out of her reverie, turning away from whatever it is she's staring at outside. "I completely...agree," she stammers.

"Is there something outside that's more fascinating than the structure of the human mind?" the teacher asks.

"No," Lydia murmurs. "I don't think so. No."

"Okay. Good. Now, many people credit the corpus callosum, uh, for giving us a sense of intuition, gut instinct, even we ourselves aren't aware -"

Lydia cuts in, her voice laced with anxiety. "I'm sorry, I'll be right back."

I get up out of my seat at the same time as Scott. "We're just gonna check if she's okay," Scott explains as we hurry after her. She moves through the corridors with a silent determination, and we follow her until she stops in front of a dusty blue jeep. A tow truck is stationed in front of it.

"Hey! Hey! You can't tow this Jeep," Lydia protests to the tow man.

"Paperwork says I can," he retorts. "It's reported as abandoned."

Scott slaps his hand on the bonnet. It's such an archaic car I'm scared it'll shatter under his touch. "And now it's not," he proclaims.

"Oh, this is your vehicle?" the man asks.

"Does it matter?" Scott replies.

The man scoffs. "Sounds like a no," he says.

"It's mine," Scott reiterates. "Uh, my Jeep. Thank you. I'll move it...once I get the keys, from my locker...after you leave."

"I'm sorry, once it's on the hook -"

Lydia cuts him off. "Please don't say, 'you're on the hook'."

"Well, I can't now," he says.

I grit my teeth. "Look, there's gotta be something that we can do. Sign something? Call someone?"

"Pay someone?" Lydia adds slyly.

"Drop fee's a hundred and fifty," he declares. "Cash."

"A hundred and fifty?" Scott gasps. "This thing isn't even worth that much."

"Uh, how much have you guys got?" I ask the others. I hold out a scrunched up twenty dollar bill.

"Just give me your money," Lydia whispers.

Scott sighs and opens his wallet. "All I have is fifty dollars," Scott says. "And when I say all, I mean all."

Lydia takes our money and holds it out to the man, who takes it.

"Uh, hey," Scott says. "You know I don't actually have the keys to this thing, right?"

Lydia shrugs. "But now we have a Jeep."

At lunch, I accompany Lydia to the library where we complete homework, or rather, complete homework in the recesses of our talking. Kane Jefferson sits a few tables away from us, captivated by his computer screen.

"What do you know about that Kane kid?" I ask Lydia.

She shrugs. "Not much. He's really intelligent."

"He's a witch," I whisper.

"No way."

"Yes way," I say. "Kai told me."

"Kai, huh? What's the deal with him?"

"He's a witch, too."

"No, I mean what's the deal with him?" She quirks an eyebrow.

"Nothing," I insist. "He's lovely, really. A bit quirky, but what can you do?"

She purses her lips. "Interesting. Quirky as in a bit hipster, or as in a screw or two loose?"

I shrug. "The latter."

"Arden, darling," she says. "I hate to break it to you, but I think you're immune to identifying hot guys now."

I raise my eyebrows. "Well, I only really find Theo hot."

"Theo's in hell," she points out.

I bite my lip. "Yeah, I guess so," I say. "But still."

She cocks her head to the side, surveying my body language vigorously. "I never really asked you," she begins, "but why were you so attracted to Theo?"

I bob my knee up and down nervously under the table, thinking of how to put it in words. "He was fascinating," I murmur. "He was captivating. When he walked into a room, he made his presence known, even if all he did was stay silent.

"He knew what he wanted. He was passionate, and would give himself to whatever it was he loved, or desired." I smile sadly. "I know he was a bad guy, but I love him."

***

The radio in the blue jeep blares a staticky, monotonous noise.

"It's coming from inside," Lydia says as Malia and Scott approach.

"Did somebody just lock the keys inside?" Scott asks.

Lydia eyes the alpha off. "Break it."

With a hesitant grasp of the handle, Scott jerks it and a crack sounds, the door swinging open.

We squeeze into the jeep - Scott and I in the backseat; Lydia and Malia in the front. We try tuning the radio, but when it does nothing apart from release static, we succumb to just listening silently for anything, changing the station rarely.

An hour or two later, it stops. "Why'd it stop?" I pipe up.

"It doesn't matter," Lydia says. "There has to be a reason." Suddenly, Scott begins sniffing the air.

"What?" Malia says. "You caught a scent?"

"Yeah," he answers.

"Who?" she urges.

"Uh ours mine, yours, all four of us."

"Mine?" Malia asks, furrowing her brows. "I've never been in this Jeep before."

"Neither have I," Scott says gravely.

"Me neither," I add.

"Yes, we have," Lydia corrects us. "We just don't remember it."

"I thought we were done with that," Malia says.

"Uh, yeah, Lydia," Scott agrees. "Parrish checked the VIN number. There's no record of owner."

"The Jeep didn't just drive itself here," I point out.

Malia frowns. "Whose side are you on?"

I raise my eyebrows, shrugging. "I'm on everyone's side."

"He's not real," Malia sighs, a mix of fierceness and sadness. "Trust me. I've lost a lot of people in my life. It's a long list and I don't feel like adding to it."

"You might not have to," I say. "Not if we get him back."

"This is from '96," she argues. "And there's no name."

Scott peers at the sheet of paper. "But there's an address. 129 Woodbine Lane."

"I know that address," Lydia declares. "It's the sheriff's."

While Lydia scurries away, no doubt hellbent on interrogating the sheriff, Scott and Malia head off to do god-knows-what. I decide to pay my mom a visit and to make sure Kai hasn't done anything stupidly careless.

"Back already?" Kai asks when I walk through the door.

"I have a free period," I say, dropping my bag down onto the floor. "Mom, are you okay?"

"Of course, honey," she says. "Just getting acquainted with your friend here. We were just talking about kids."

"You were what?"

"I was just telling your lovely mother about how much I love kids," he says. "I didn't have the easiest childhood, so I want other kids to have a better one."

"That's...nice," I say. "Actually, that's strangely nice for you."

"Oh, Arden," my mom says. "Kai is such a darling."

"Okay?" I mumble.

"You know, now that things have calmed down, maybe you can get to know each other a bit more." Was I being set up by my mother? Not surprising.

I almost choked. "In his dreams."

"But, darling, he's so nice and manly," she says.

I scowl at Kai's proud grin. "I would rather...kill myself."

"Arden!" Kai gasps. "That's not nice."

"Mom, I have a boyfriend."

She sighs, her eyes filling with sadness. "You know he's in hell," she says softly. "And there may not be a way to get him out."

I raise my eyebrows. "I'm getting him out. End of story."

Later on when I make my way back to meet Lydia, I barely arrive when the tow man returns. "We already paid you," Scott says. "I gave you all of my money for that drop fee."

"Yeah, and I dropped it, all right?" the man says. "Now I'm picking it up again."

"How much?" Lydia urges. "I'll write you a check."

"It's not about how much," he says. "They want it out of here, okay? It's not up to me."

Scott moves in front of the man, his fist curling. A threat.

"Don't make me move you, kid, okay?" the man says. "I'm hooking this thing up and I am towing it away."

The sound of something shattering comes from behind him. Malia holds up two broken ends of metal. "Your truck's broke," she shrugs.

We spend the next few hours tinkering with the radio in the ancient vehicle. We have no luck. Suddenly, a deep, throaty howl shakes the car.

"What the hell?" I ask, lifting my head from its resting place on my arm.

"Did you hear that?" Scott asks.

"I think all of Beacon Hills heard that," Malia declares.

"Who is it?" Lydia asks.

Malia furrows her eyebrows. "I'm not sure, but I think I recognised it." She pushed the door open and within seconds is swallowed up by darkness.

A wide-eyed Lydia stares at Scott. "Arden and I will stay here," she urges. "Go!"

It feels like an eternity before Scott returns. "It was Peter," he says. He seems dumbfounded. "I forgot the man who bit me."

"He was taken," I say slowly.

"And he got out?" Lydia demands.

"He was burnt. Badly," Scott answers. "If he wasn't a werewolf he would've died." Scott presses a car key into Lydia's palm. "He gave this to me."

Lydia drew in a breath before jamming the key into the ignition and twisting it. The car didn't start. She turned it again, this time pushing the engine further.

"Don't flood it," Scott warns

"Do you even know what that means?" Lydia asks.

"Not really," Scott admits.

Lydia grunts, twisting the key.

The car roars to life.

"Hello?" a voice cuts through the static of the radio. I hold my breath. "Hello? Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?"

"Stiles?" Lydia murmurs.

"Stiles, are you there?" Scott asks.

"Scott? Lydia? Is that you?" Stiles answers. His voice is familiar and known to me, but I can't place where I've heard it before.

"Oh my god, Stiles," Lydia says. "We can hear you."

"Oh my god, you know me? You remember me?" he asks. His voice is hoarse.

"Stiles, is this-is this you? Is this actually you?" Lydia breathes.

"Yeah. Listen to me. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"

Lydia looks up and blinks. "You said-you said, 'remember I love you.'"

"Are you okay?" Scott asks. "Where are you? We're coming to get you."

"No, no, no," Stiles urges. "You can't. You won't be able to find me."

"Stiles, what what are you talking about?" Lydia stutters. "Just tell us where you are, and we'll-we'll come and -"

"Right, just remember this," Stiles says desperately. "Canaan, okay? You have to find Canaan. Just find Canaan."

The line goes dead.