Shining among Darkness

By
WingzemonX

Chapter 37.
Something's Happening

That May 25, four years ago, was a busy day for Matilda Honey. From early on, she had scheduled appointments with her patients in her office. Some were shining children, while others needed more conventional help. A seven-year-old boy had recently started hearing his classmates' thoughts as nonsensical words in his head. Another was beginning to have forebodings about things that would happen, which caused him a particular obsession throughout the day. And there was also a girl who needed to wear gloves constantly because as soon as she had contact, even minimal, with someone, she was able to perceive feelings and thoughts from them that intensely overwhelmed as if they were her own. Each one occupied particular care, same that Matilda was little by little learning to carry out.

Just before seven p.m., Matilda was in session with Roberta, the girl dealing with her psychometry. Although the girl's attitude had initially been somewhat closed, she had begun to open up even a little over time.

"The other kids tease me because of my gloves," the sturdy little girl with curly hair murmured, sitting in the chair in Matilda's office. The psychiatrist was also seated in a smaller chair in front of her. "They don't understand why I always take them to class... they think my hands are deformed, and I'm ashamed of them."

"Kids that age have a hard time understanding that their actions hurt others," Matilda murmured cautiously. "But you mustn't allow it to affect you too much, especially when it isn't true."

"Easy for you to say it," Roberta replied dryly. "You sure were very popular at school."

"Oh, believe me, I wasn't," the psychiatrist muttered wryly. "I was the weird girl who spent her time reading books and didn't talk to anyone. They bothered me quite a bit, and that also made me as angry as you."

Roberta raised her face slightly to look at her with some skepticism.

"Really?"

"Do you think I'd lie about that?"

"No... And what did you do when that happened?""

"Well..." Matilda looked at the ceiling a bit, thinking about how to respond.

She didn't know if that was the right approach, but she had found that many children liked hearing real experiences from others who were like them. It made them feel less alone, and it helped them think that everything could be better.

"At first, I tried to ignore it. But..."

Suddenly, the characteristic sound of her phone receiving a message abruptly rang, interrupting her words. Matilda felt a little embarrassed. She had gone to lunch a little late and had forgotten to put it on silent mode afterward. These were the kind of rookie mistakes that she still made back then.

"Give me a second, Roberta," the psychiatrist apologized, and then she reached for her bag, which she had placed on the floor next to the chair. The intention was to put it directly to silent as she should have done from the beginning. However, she hesitated when she saw that the message received was precisely from Carrie White, or rather from the phone she gave her in the days when they met the first time.

She quickly recalled, trying to remember exactly what date that day was, and it came to her mind almost immediately. That convinced her to give herself a few extra seconds and take a look at the message. This was a selfie of Carrie, took in front of a mirror. But Matilda almost didn't recognize her; she looked totally different.

Her hair was combed and groomed. Her face was discreetly made up, even with a subtle lip gloss. And the most impressive thing was what she was wearing: a salmon pink dress with straps, which left her arms and shoulders exposed, and which also had a lovely neckline. She looked simply beautiful and even happy, something Matilda hadn't seen in the short time he had known her. Accompanying the image came the text:

My dress and I are ready.

Matilda couldn't help but smile. Carrie had never used a cell phone before, and now she was taking selfies and texting it; how she had changed in just a couple of weeks.

That was the night of the prom Carrie had told her about, and she really did look radiant. Matilda had no idea how she would have convinced her mother to allow her to attend, and especially with such a dress. But whatever it was, at the time, it seemed to Matilda that this had to be considered an outstanding achievement.

She took just one more moment to reply with a final message of encouragement:

You look beautiful!

Have fun

Once she sent that, she immediately put the phone on silent mode and put it back in her bag.

"I'm sorry, Roberta," Matilda apologized again and then sat upright in her chair again, crossing her legs. The girl looked at her expectantly. "There will be no more interruptions. What was I saying...? Oh yeah. When I entered high school..."

* * * *

It was already sunset in Indiana, practically in the blink of an eye. All that day Jane Wheeler had been quite disturbed, though she wasn't quite sure why. It wasn't that she really had no reason to be, for in just a couple of days, too much had happened that was worth upsetting her. But at that specific moment, she did not know exactly which of all the cause of her condition was. Possibly it was a combination of all of them.

Eleven had just hung up about an hour ago with Matilda and Cole, who were on their way to Eola, and possibly by now, they were already near or had already arrived there. They had quickly told her how little they had gleaned from their conversation with Samara Morgan's birth mother. They also summarized what happened when they spoke with Samara days ago and the conclusions drawn from that. Matilda's had more force because, apparently, she and Cole had agreed to follow this route from then on. Eleven was skeptical of such a statement, but her wandering mind did not allow her to object in any way. She preferred to let the two of them come to terms with it, then talk to Cole about it alone. She was convinced that the detective had obtained more from those two encounters than he had shared with his companion.

But while Samara Morgan's case was important, and perhaps only she and Cole knew how much, it wasn't the only thing causing Eleven's discomfort.

While she pondered all this, she stood gazing through the glass doors of her study, which showed their patio. In this one, she could see her youngest daughter, her little Terry, innocently playing with Babylon, her huge black and white husky dog. She chased him or made him chase her. They both threw themselves on the ground, rolled and rolled as if they were two brothers playing. Terry was laughing like she was an eight-year-old, rather than a sixteen-year-old girl. She had inherited her mother's full curly hair, and in fact reminded her quite a bit of herself, except for her innocent and happy personality; so pure and resplendent, in many ways. She was never allowed to be that way. But seeing her daughter playing so calmly filled her chest with a great joy that made her feel a little more comforting, but not enough to forget her worries.

She was so engrossed in staring at her daughter that she didn't feel when her husband Mike entered the study, holding a plate in each hand. Eleven, who was able to see, hear and even interact with what was happening miles away from her, ended up starting a bit in surprise when she caught the figure of Mike next to her out of the corner of her eye. This reaction caused a small gesture of satisfaction on the man's face, and inevitably a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Some waffles for your thoughts?" Mike murmured, handing her one of the plates. Indeed, this one had three Eggo waffles, an appetizing golden yellow, bathed with a discreet amount of maple.

"These things," Eleven muttered wryly, taking the plate with both hands. "I remember when I only ate this."

"Me too," Mike replied, with a pretty similar feeling.

Eleven took one of the waffles, taking a bite out of the side. She tasted it for a while in her mouth before swallowing it. Her expression remained fairly neutral.

"Is it my imagination, or did they taste better in our time?" She commented perhaps more seriously than she wanted, just before taking one more bite.

Mike shrugged.

"Everything was better in our time."

Eleven just chuckled a little, not much willing to debate his claim.

They both walked around the coffee table and sat side by side on the couch, facing the doors through which they could both still see Terry and Babylon playing. They continued eating their respective waffles in a peaceful silence that over the years they'd been together had actually become quite relaxing for both of them. Eleven wished they could stay longer just like this, side by side, without having to think or talk about anything. But she knew it was quite an ambitious wish.

"So?" Mike questioned after a few moments, turning discreetly towards her. "What's going on?"

Eleven sighed silently. She finished the waffle in her hand and even allowed herself to wipe the syrup off her fingers with her tongue. All this without stopping looking ahead, at the patio, at her daughter... and perhaps a little further.

"Do you think I've become a coward?" Eleven suddenly muttered, making Mike feel unsure whether or not she had actually spoken to him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the issue we are dealing with right now; the two issues, rather: the mysterious boy who attacked us a few days ago, and the case of the girl I assigned to Matilda and Cole. There was a time when I would have faced both head-on and without blinking. Now, both have me restless, even fearful. I feel immobilized, and I doubt what I should or should not do at each step. I didn't use to be so insecure and afraid... at least as far as I remember."

"I don't think it's insecurity or fear. You're just old."

Eleven nearly jumped out of her seat and then turned to her husband with her eyes wide and incredulous.

"Excuse?" She asked, almost offended. Mike laughed, apparently amused by her reaction.

"I mean, you're not a child anymore. And age is accompanied by experiences; and experiences by wisdom. You are not a coward; you have simply learned to differentiate which battles to face head-on, striking before asking, and which require a little more finesse."

"That wasn't the best of your compliments," Eleven whispered, a slight trace of annoyance in her voice.

"It was more to want to clarify a point than a compliment." Mike's expression turned a little more serious. "But if you want to see it differently, you could say that we have learned the hard way the consequences that can come from acting without thinking about these kinds of things."

Those ambiguous words turned out to be quite clear to the Foundation leader. That seriousness rubbed off on her... and even intensified. So many years had already passed in that fight, and they had lost so much... already so many. That was definitely much more than just having "learned the hard way."

Was that what made her so insecure? Maybe... but she kept thinking that there was quite a bit of fear involved.

She took a second waffle and then placed her plate, along with the last of the waffles, on the coffee table. She sat down against the back of the chair and crossed her legs, eating her aperitif as calmly as possible.

"Something else worries me too," Eleven murmured, not diminishing the severity of her voice. "I always knew that there would be others more powerful than me out there. I always knew that several guys from the Foundation, like Matilda or Cody, would get to do things that I didn't even imagine." She stopped for a thoughtful little pause before continuing. The sensations she had felt during that fortuitous encounter days ago with that stranger came back to her. "But this... man, boy, or whatever we are faced with... is something totally beyond my comprehension. And he's also related to another girl who could also be quite powerful... too much, I'd say."

"Which girl?" Mike asked, curious but at the same time, concerned.

"I just know that her name is Abra. I managed to find her for a moment, but she managed to realize my presence and repel me. I am hoping that Monica can give me more information. And there's Samara Morgan too, who I'm afraid will be something much more complicated to deal." A heavy, almost exhausting sigh escaped from her lips just then. "Lots of guys with overly powerful Shining popping out of nowhere. And it makes me wonder how many more there will be..."

"Maybe not everyone will end up being your enemy," Mike pointed out, a little more optimistic. "You have been able to make many valuable friends over the years, do you forget? And even if they were, come on, you're Eleven," he commented with a wide animated smile. "You are the most extraordinary and strongest person I know. And look that in recent years I have seen so many things that almost nothing manages to surprise me. And yet, you are the most incredible thing I have ever known. No one would dare to mess with you a second time, neither monster nor human. I don't know who these people are who have decided to bother you so much, but I can only feel sorry for them; they don't know yet what a big mistake they made."

Again the woman's cheeks flushed, but not in the same way as before. She turned sadly to the side as if she were some fifteen-year-old girl. Despite all the time that had passed, she was still Mike's heroine, who was capable of anything, whose very presence guaranteed that everything would turn out well. And Mike wasn't the only one who saw her that way. Her old and new friends always looked at her, searching for the best solution, when everything else seemed lost. It was a weight on her shoulders, but one she didn't despise... at least, not usually.

But, this time, she didn't feel entirely sure that she could live up to expectations...

She finished her waffle in silence as she reflected on everything her husband had just told her. Once her hand was free again, including traces of syrup on her fingers, she reached out to take the last waffle from the plate. She managed to take it with her fingers and bring it to her mouth. But she could not get it in because her body abruptly froze, head to toe.

Her eyes widened, and her fingers hopelessly dropped the waffle, and it fell straight to the carpet.

For an instant, her mind wandered away from that place and moment. Abruptly, she was very, very far from there. She saw quick flashes of long white hallways, people in white uniforms or coats, and padded rooms. Her mind moved through all those spaces like a slippery rat between the feet of ignorant pedestrians. At first, she didn't understand why she saw all that until she went straight to a door with the word "security" on it. The door opened, and on the other side, Eleven could see three men in security garb. The three of them, at different times, turned toward the door, and right afterward, there was a great crash that made Eleven's head feel like it was bouncing.

She yelped in amazement and pain. Her whole body threw back into the back of the chair, her eyes staring at the ceiling above her.

"Jane! Are you okay?" Mike exclaimed, worried. He quickly approached her, and he touched her very carefully as if he was afraid of hurting her somehow. "El, do you hear me? What happens?"

Eleven wasn't responding; it wasn't even sure she had actually heard him. She stared at the ceiling for a long time, while her mind slowly tried to return to that place completely.

"No... no..." was the first thing that escaped from her lips, like little moans. "Something's happening... or is about to happen..."

Mike looked at her blankly, and Jane really didn't quite understand either. The details eluded her, but the critical thing was clear: Matilda was in danger, and not only her...

— — — —

The sun was beginning to set when Matilda and Cole arrived in Salem. They spent more time that day driving than how much they stayed in Silverdale. Those long road trips were getting too exhausting. Matilda hoped that she didn't have to do any more of those and that, at least for the remainder of the case, she could quietly stay in Eola.

They stopped for just a few minutes at their hotel in Salem to stretch their legs, pick up some things, and maybe wash up a bit. After that, they headed back together in the direction of the psychiatric hospital. Matilda had suggested that Cole stays at the hotel. Still, he insisted on accompanying her until the end of that day. She didn't understand what that stubbornness was about, but she didn't make much of an effort to reject it either. In fact, she was so tired that she couldn't possibly put in much effort into anything, really. But she had to go see Samara, even if only for a short time. Since her talk with Cody, she had been quite anxious. She was even more anxious after her not very pleasant meeting with Evelyn. Matilda just wanted to take a look at her, talk to her for a second, and check that she was okay.

Was it normal for her to feel this overprotective of a patient, as Cody had mentioned? Maybe not so much... maybe Cody and Cole were right in saying that she had taken a particular affection for Samara. But... was that so bad?

"It's still a bit early," Matilda pointed out just as they were entering the hospital parking lot. "Maybe Cody is still here."

"You're dying to go and see that everything is okay, right?" Cole commented mockingly, causing the psychiatrist to blush sadly.

"Don't bother me. Samara is my responsibility, after all."

They parked near the entrance. Both of them calmly got out of the vehicle but could not enter the hospital at that time. When both had already closed their respective doors, they saw how the driver's door of a car that was two places from theirs was abruptly opened. From this, a man with brown skin and dark hair began to get off with some difficulty; both he and the two crutches he brought with him. Matilda and Cole stood a few feet from the hospital doors, watching this scene in utter disbelief.

"Oh, it can't be..." Cole exclaimed with unobtrusive annoyance. He recognized the individual immediately, and Matilda too. In fact, it was quite likely that he had been sitting, waiting especially for the two of them.

The man approached them defiantly, even though he leaned on two crutches; apparently, he had learned to handle them better since they last saw him.

"Detective Vazquez, good evening..." Matilda greeted him, still somewhat impressed.

It was the Portland Detective who had been wounded during the Providence Medical Center shooting just days ago and who had definitely not left a good first impression at all. Matilda hoped she would never have to run into him again. But there he was, and from his face, Matilda could tell that he was in the same or even worse mood than last time. How did he know where to find them? He was obviously a much better detective than she thought.

"They told me you weren't here right now," Vazquez murmured dryly, staring directly at the psychiatrist, "but I knew that if I waited long enough, I would surprise you." He said it as if he might have wanted to ambush him... and maybe that was the idea. "Where's Lily Sullivan? Where is the girl, woman, or whatever is the girl that shot me? Tell me right now."

In his voice, there was a great tone of demand that left no room for hesitation.

Before Matilda could answer him, Cole stepped forward to get between them.

"Are you still with that?" The Philadelphia officer questioned him defensively. "We already told you we have no idea."

"Oh, no? Maybe I can refresh your memory, informing you that this woman just killed another officer yesterday at Olympia."

This information surprised both of them so much that they were speechless for a moment.

"Oh my God," Matilda murmured. But not in horror, but rather in frustration as she remembered what happened in that hospital and how she could stop Leena Klammer at that moment.

However, little by little, she managed to get over herself, put the feelings aside for a second, and reason a little more about what he had just heard. Mostly, she concentrated on the place he had mentioned...

Vazquez, for his part, continued.

"He was a decent boy who was just doing his duty. She hanged him in a bathroom and left his body there like garbage."

"Did that happen at Olympia?" Matilda murmured, almost without meaning to.

"Yes, in Olympia," the policeman replied aggressively. "Do you want me to draw a map for you?"

Matilda ignored that answer and instead took a couple of steps away, completely relinquishing control of that conversation to Cole. She did not enter the hospital, nor was that his intention. She just wanted to think a little alone... or as much alone as possible.

Olympia; they had just had breakfast there that morning. Sure, Vazquez said it happened the day before, but finding out about it still made her too nervous all of a sudden.

"And how do you know it was Leena Klammer?" Cole asked skeptically.

"I don't have to explain anything to you," Vazquez answered, facing the man from Philadelphia head-on, with a more threatening attitude. "If you have the slightest idea where she is, you have to tell me right now!

"Well, you are stubborn; we have no idea where that woman is. If I knew, I would tell you; police to police."

"Police to police?" Vazquez suddenly let out a loud, sarcastic laugh. "Do you think I didn't investigate you? Philadelphia PD has many funny stories to tell about the insane Detective of the Dead."

"Oh yeah?" Cole mused; his expression hardened gravely upon hearing such mockery at his expense, "And one of those stories is my rate of solved homicide cases?"

The tension between Vazquez and Cole was mounting, and their discussion seemed to be getting more heated. But Matilda was not entirely aware of what was happening just a few steps from her. She kept thinking about her own topic.

That girl-like woman, the one who had kidnapped Lily Sullivan, was undoubtedly working for her mysterious attacker. Not for nothing had he appeared precisely to defend her and allow her to escape. And now she's headed from Portland to Olympia. That would imply that he was heading north. But what was in the north? Many things, for sure. Maybe she could be was heading to Seattle, or trying to cross the border into Canada... or perhaps something more alarming.

I'm just a messenger, was the only thing she had answered when she asked who she was. If she allowed herself to guess, she would say she had to be a messenger for this guy. But to what end? What did he want Lily Sullivan for? What was to the north...?

Seattle was at north, but so was Silverdale, right where they came from. But further north was...

"You're like them, aren't you?" Vazquez broke in as a fervent accusation. "You use tricks to make everyone believe that you can do things that are not real. But your little games no longer amuse me. We can do this by hook or by crook."

"Are you threatening me?" Cole answered her eagerly. "Because as soon as you leave those crutches, I can please you wherever you want."

"I'll kick your pretty face with everything and crutches, you disrespectful boy."

"Thank you for the pretty face..."

Matilda wondered why her mind was going in that direction as if drawn by a magnet. Further north from Silverdale, you could get to Port Townsend. Once there, you could take the ferry and get to...

And then the idea bombarded her head, and it detonated with a tremendous explosion. She had nothing specific to reach that conclusion, nothing to prove that this was indeed the correct one of all the possible sites north of Olympia. But there was no doubt about it; there was not a small part of her that wanted to stop and question it. For some reason, whether it was her Shining or usual intuition, she knew for sure: that woman was heading for Moesko Island.

"Samara..." She whispered slowly, with a deep sense of apprehension.

When she managed to react, she was so close to the automatic door that they opened abruptly, pulling her out of her thoughts. She then turned back to Cole and Vazquez, who were still arguing. But it was not the two policemen that captured her attention, but a strange sensation above her head. He walked away from the doors, and they closed as they had been opened. Halfway through, she stopped short, looked up at the already almost starry sky, and managed to see, or instead feel, something large collapsing towards them from the roof of the hospital. This put her entirely on alert.

"Watch out!" Matilda exclaimed abruptly and, for mere reflection, raised her hand to the front. Both Cole and Vazquez were suddenly pushed to the side by her telekinesis, landing on the parking lot pavement several feet from where they stood. All of this before what Matilda had seen crashed to the ground right in front of her.

Matilda watched it cross only a few inches from her, and after the impact, she felt her face get splattered, and by mere reflex she closed her eyes. The crash of that against the concrete was hard, like something breaking, but accompanied by a grotesque wet sound as if it were a paste of mash or sauce.

Cole and Vazquez, stunned by the sudden change, began to recover little by little, being the Portland Detective the one who had the most trouble getting up. They both turned at the same time in Matilda's direction, just to see what she had protected them from. Their expressions were filled with great confusion... but also horror.

"What the hell....? Matilda heard Cole say, apparently unable to finish his sentence.

The brunette forced herself to open her eyes and face that. She didn't have to look long before the same sentiment that had harbored the two officers rubbed off on her. A white coat covered the large body, which now rested in a pool of blood and tissue. His neck had been twisted at an obscene angle, and his legs and arms were sprawled out without any sense. The face, or what was left of it because near the middle of its right side had been deformed in an almost unrecognizable way after the impact, was turned right towards Matilda. And that single dark eye that was left intact seemed to still be looking at her through the broken glasses as if he were just lying there.

Matilda brought a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. She breathed hard, trying to calm herself. She couldn't take her eyes off him, as if she hoped that the more she saw it, the more sense would find that abstract and horrible figure that only a few seconds ago was a person.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed with a lump catching in her throat. "Dr. Scott..."

She could barely recognize him, but it was him. He had jumped off the roof; it was the only way he could have done such damage. But why? And why right at that moment?

She froze in place, so disconnected that she didn't feel vivid when Cole approached her, scooped her up in his arms, and turned her away from the body. She didn't resist, and a part of her actually thanked him silently. She didn't even try to pull away from him and stayed with her cheek against his chest in a childish attempt to feel safe.

Vazquez approached cautiously, standing to one side of the body and looking at it in absolute perplexity. Right at that moment, and as if it were a consequence of what they had just seen, the three of them listened abruptly to the hospital fire alarms, beginning to sound with strident force. These were like bells ringing one after another, completely destroying that fragile silence that enveloped them. The three turned at the same time towards the doors of the hospital. From the inside, they could only hear the alarms... and nothing more...

"What's going on?" Vazquez questioned, but none of them had an answer to give him.

* * * *

Roberta's mother came by for just a few minutes before her session ended. It had been a good talk, and by the end, the girl had become more comfortable; in fact, she didn't even seem to want to leave.

"Until next week, Roberta," Matilda said at the door.

"Thank you very much, Matilda," the little girl greeted her much more enthusiastically, waving one of her gloved hands.

After they were gone, she locked the door and took a second to stretch his arms a bit and try to relax. It was eight o'clock, or maybe a little more. She had no other appointments for that day, so she would retire to her apartment to rest. As she walked back to her office to grab her things and turn everything off, she went through everything she would have to do next: buy some dinner, work on notes from the sessions she had that day, maybe talk to her mother...

Halfway to her desk, she suddenly felt a strange stabbing pain in her stomach, which made her paralyze and double over herself. She brought her hands to the center of her abdomen and pressed it with some force. It was quite strange; it had come out of nowhere. And just as the pain came, it vanished, leaving only an annoying burning in its place. What had that been?

She slowly separated her hands from the abdomen, and as she did so, she noticed something strange: her hands looked stained. She turned them around to better look at her palms, and she was stunned by what she saw: they were stained with blood... wholly stained with blood.

Was she hurt? She looked down at her clothes, and it wasn't her abdomen: all of her was covered in bright reddish blood, from head to toe, even forming a puddle on the ground at her feet, and little drops ran down her fingers and fell like rain on your carpet.

"What is this...?" She exclaimed in horror, backing away with awkward steps, falling to the ground as she tripped over her own feet.

As soon as he touched the carpet, the next blink, she was no longer in her office. The world around her became hazy, full of lights and laughs; lots of uproarious laughs bouncing off her head. Abruptly, she felt great anxiety, so much so that she felt her heart race and bounce off her chest, almost causing pain.

Matilda had a cool enough head to close her eyes, breathe slowly, and begin to calm down little by little. The laughs faded until they were gone entirely. When she managed to open her eyes again, she was once again sitting on the rug in her office. The blood was also gone; her hands and clothes were totally flawless... as if nothing had happened.

"What was...?" She murmured under her breath but stopped abruptly. A thought invaded his mind. "Carrie..."

She hurried to a halt and headed for her bag, which was still on the coffee table right where she'd left it. She desperately searched for her phone and quickly scanned the screen; there were no messages or missed calls, but that didn't reassure her. Without waiting long, she unlocked it and went straight to the conversation with Carrie. The last message was hers, and it was marked as read, but there was no reply. In fact, it marked that the last connection had been around the same time that she had sent the messages.

Matilda quickly wrote:

Hi Carrie, how are you?

She sent it and stared at the screen in silence as she walked through the office. Two, three, five minutes passed, and Carrie didn't even connect. The nerves invaded her more and more. She could not resist and immediately sent one more message.

Carrie, are you there?

The result was the same: no response, not even a sign of life.

She took a second to drop into her chair and ponder for a second. She had no reason to suppose that something bad had happened. Maybe she was just having a lot of fun at the dance, and the last thing she thought about was looking at the phone. But... what had that vision been? What did it mean?

She rubbed her face with one hand, thinking hard about what to do. Although, in reality, her entire body was screaming it, and what she was looking for was some excuse that would convince her not to do that. But she didn't get it...

Matilda immediately grabbed her phone, her bag, and her car keys. She almost stampeded out of her office, not even bothering to turn off the lights. She had her destination well decided: Chamberlain, Maine.

END OF CHAPTER 37

Author's Notes:

Things had been relatively peaceful, but in this chapter they abruptly turned on. In the next three, we will conclude what we could name as Carrie's arc and what happened that night in Chamberlain between Matilda and this one. Some facts will be more than known, but others will be new. After that, we will see what we could almost consider as the Season Finale for what this story has been so far and that I don't know how many chapters it will last. Still, it will be really very exciting (I hope).

Thank you for following this story up to this point, and I hope the next chapters are to your liking. See you very soon with more.