The memory remained a tricky thing, utterly dependent on a person's perspective. People often fill the voids in recollection with their interpretation or remember the past the way it suits them. For Kennedy, memories felt confusing, and often she had trouble recognizing what stood real and what was a lie.

She sat on the bed, her sketchbook in front of her. "Reminiscor," she whispered, playing with the pencil between her fingers and holding a water bottle in her other hand.

The ringing in her ears felt stronger this time. She winced but remained focused on the drawing which lay on her bed. Kennedy used the memory spell too often for the last two days. It seemed worth it though, as she wanted to draw the box as close to the original as possible. Since Hayden was the only thing on her mind for the last two months, Kennedy wasn't thinking about herself.

"Shit," she cursed, as Hayden's image seemed clearer in her mind than the box itself.

Kennedy lifted the sketch and decided it will have to be enough. Besides, she felt unsure if she would even need the drawing. Coven rules stated every significant magical relic had to remain in the bunker. Kennedy gripped the golden necklace. They did not store it in the bunker, which might be because of the lower classification of the artifact. Or maybe, for some other reason, Helena kept it in her mansion.

Kennedy's phone rang, but she ignored the signal. She's been ignoring her mother's phone calls since she got back to Alaska. It was the third one; she knew soon she would have to pick up and once more lie to her mom. Silence filled the room as the phone melody stopped. Kennedy picked up her phone from the bed, remembering she needed to make the phone call about cabin rent again.

"Miss More," the man spoke in a chipper voice.

"Call me Sara, please," Kennedy adjusted her tone. "I'm calling about keys to the cabin. You didn't pick up my call earlier," she explained.

"Sorry for that," the man said with a slight cough. "My boss is not cooperating today at all, so I had to take a brief trip out of town."

"Is that how you do business around here?"

"Usually, no." The man's tone softened. "I can't give you keys at the time we agreed, but I can tell you where the spare one is, and we can talk more on Sunday," he suggested to Kennedy.

"That would be great, considering other people are on their way to the place, and I can't cancel at this point," Kennedy agreed.

"Yes, I understand, and I apologize for any disruption this might cause for you, Sara," he pleaded.

"So, the key?" She perceived his answer, but for the sake of appearance, asked, anyway.

"It's under the roof, on the beam." He painted her a picture of the location of the key. Kennedy tuned him out for a moment and noticed it was time to leave her hotel room. "You can call me if you have trouble finding it," he finished his talk.

"Sure I will," she answered, knowing well that won't be necessary. "Have a good day."

"You too, Miss More." He hung up the phone.

Kennedy tossed the last unpacked items from the bed and zipped her luggage. The paper left a minor cut as she folded the drawing, tucking it into her pants pocket. Knowing the guys very well, she did some food shopping in the morning, so part of her luggage was already in the car.

Glancing through the room one more time, she left the suit with all her remaining possessions. The elevator ride felt uncomfortable as an old lady in her seventies eyed Kennedy for no apparent reason. She scanned her image in the mirror just before leaving the stuffy space.

Her blond hair seemed smoothly settled on her shoulders. Subtle makeup adorned her face. She briefly smiled, checking if she had nothing in her teeth. Deciding the old lady glared for no reason, she reached the lobby shortly after leaving the elevator.

The foyer felt chilly, perhaps because of the marble decor spread through the vast space. A hushed pop tune played as Kennedy dropped her bag on the floor in front of the wooden reception desk.

"Checking out from room three hundred eight," Kennedy said, placing her wallet on the desk.

The girl quickly typed something on the computer's keyboard. "It will be one hundred and forty, we take credit cards as well," the girl said as Kennedy counted the paper bills.

"I know." Kennedy nodded. "I prefer cash," she added and gave money to the girl.

"Have a nice day, Miss More," the girl wished as Kennedy bent down to take her bag.

"You too."

Kennedy put her wallet in her bag and left the hotel swiftly. The new name and last name no longer felt so foreign, after all, she used them frequently for the last two months. Hiding wasn't difficult for Kennedy. She worked as a photographer for a fashion magazine, so traveling felt like second nature to her. Though lately, she was even more careful with her new assignments.

Kennedy liked her job; she worked with people and fashion. Although her true passion was nature and animal photography and she hoped soon she could do just that. But for now, the magazine paid her well, and she gained a lot of experience in the last five years. Not to mention she would travel around the world to various fashion shows and photoshoots.

A breeze reached Kennedy as she looked around the hotel parking lot and soon hopped in her car. The drive to Bear Valley felt bittersweet as memories flooded her mind. Even after two months of wearing the necklace, she still felt amazed by the works of aufero magicae.

Her heart thudded faster as the view of the cabin could be seen through the foggy car windshield. It wasn't time to have doubts, but she still felt unsure if her plan would work.

She parked her car and traveled to the cabin porch. Kennedy looked around to make sure she was alone and safe. The site seemed quiet, just snow slowly falling on the frozen grass. She could see the years did some damage to the house. As old green paint seemed chipped from the lumbers and bare wood stayed visible. She tiptoed and reached the beam under the metal roof. The key hiding place hasn't changed in all these years.

Even though Helena wasn't the one who handled the cabin's rent, Kennedy still used a fake name just to be safe. Helena most likely noticed the necklace was missing, but so far, Kennedy hadn't detected any signs of her. Her palms sweated as she unlocked the door. The moldy smell reached her, suggesting the cabin wasn't used as often as before.

Kennedy stepped over the threshold until the view of the fireplace caught her eye. Her first decent painting hung attached to the bricked chimney. She remembered giving the piece to Hayden in hopes it would give some light to an otherwise dark space. And they all felt so happy that summer. Phone melody echoed through space, interrupting her traveling thoughts. She took out her phone and sighed from the view.

"Hi, Mom," she answered, knowing if she keeps dodging her mother's calls it will make her call more frequently.

"I was worried." Her mother's voice trembled.

"I know, I'm sorry. I was just busy this morning," Kennedy explained and turned toward the window.

"So where are you now?" Diana's voice appeared calmer.

"New York," Kennedy replied in a questionable tone.

"Oh, so it's a night for you," Diana said.

"Right," Kennedy agreed with a nod.

"But you said you had a busy morning."

"Right," Kennedy said, pausing for a moment. All the lies seemed to catch up with her. "I meant to call you in the morning... but then I was busy, and now I'm asleep," she added.

"Is everything okay, darling?" Diana's voice trembled again.

"Yeah," Kennedy said and noticed a car driving toward the cabin. "I'm just tired, Mum. That's all."

"Okay, go back to sleep, darling," Diana said with a sigh. "Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Sure, Mum," Kennedy agreed and moved toward the cabin entrance. "Good night, Mum."

"Good night, darling. Dad sends his love," Diana said. Kennedy couldn't make out what her father said but felt sure he mumbled something more than that to her mother.

Kennedy hung up the phone and stuffed it into her leather jacket pocket. A black car came to a stop as she walked toward the fir tree. He took his time stepping out of the car, giving her a chance to steady her breathing. The wind ruffled her hair as he skipped towards her. He seemed taller; she thought as he reached her, blocking the last glimmers of the sun.

"Dylan." His name came as a whisper.