"Really, Ashlynn?" Cassandra scoffed once I explained the state of the car. "That was a perfectly good car! It was your brother's—"

"That's exactly why I did it," I raised my voice.

"But why? You're the one aching for anything to connect you two together—"

"Well now I'm not," I said. "Why should I want any connection to someone who left me?"

"Honey, he didn't leave you—"

"Yes he did," I nodded.

"Ashlynn, when your dad passed, Andrew was—"

"Andrew didn't die," I denied. "I don't know how they figured he died, but he is alive."

The report was apparent that not only did my father have a clear shot through his chest, but his car was under schedule to burn (and it did) and thus hinting that Andrew was in there. There was no body because they assumed it had burned when the car exploded. And when you're missing for weeks on end after a murder like my dad's, there's a reasonable level of presumed death declaration.

"Ash..."

"I saw him," I finally said.

"You...?"

"Saw Andrew," I repeated. "First upstairs and then earlier today at the Obsidian house."

Her eyes widened.

"What are you doing going to that house?"

"When he was here, Andrew warned me about it not being safe here or in Florida, so I went to the house," I began. "And then apparently he said that I was safe no matter where I was unless he was around."

"...so you decide to destroy his car...?" she questioned, missing the point that Andrew was even alive.

"Yes because he's the one saying that he left me on purpose and didn't care that everything changed by him being gone," I explained, trying to prevent my voice from cracking.

"And if he...is alive, you think that it's true?"

"Well he's obviously alive and he obviously meant what he said," I reasoned. Her face twisted.

"Maybe he's acting that way because he's going through the same thing you are."

"Cassandra, that's exactly why it hurt," I told her. "I'm going through all of this now and the only thing I want is to be with him...It hurts that it isn't the same for him."

Cassandra looked at me and nodded before looking down.

"I believe you," she surprised me. "I believe that Andrew could be alive, but he was wrong." She put her hand on my knee. "You are safe no matter where you are as long as you're the same you you've always been."

"But safe from what, Cass?" that was my main question.

"Remember when I said I had to stay here to protect the family name?" she asked me. I nodded. "That's what you should be safe from—what you can preserve for generations after you."

She stood up and I followed suit, assuming it would be a great time to maybe turn in for bed. Cassandra hugged me briefly and then pulled away with her hands on my shoulders.

"Just remember, you're an Everton woman," she smiled. "That's the strongest asset you will ever have."

***

I had nothing but dreams going back and forth from Andrew to Ryder doing nothing but apologizing. I had a few memories of Dad floating around in there, but I was too busy trying to decipher why neither boys wanted me around. It was hard not to take it personal.

Andrew was my brother and wanted nothing to do with me. My dreams and the thoughts entered into my brain from time to time told me it was for my own safety, but I still didn't know what that meant. I was just insulted that Andrew didn't feel as if the last seventeen years had no effect on his ability to trust me. Obviously I still trusted him. Maybe.

But Ryder was different. His lawyer's words still hurt me, but I obliged them in case Ryder couldn't. I stayed away from him. Whenever I'd hang out with Bailee or Evan, I would see him and hide, and every time, he would stiffen and subtly look around as if trying to find something while still engaged in whatever conversation Stella, Rod, or Preston threw at him. There was still an inevitable pull and attraction to him no matter how far I tried to pull away. But apparently it was the same for him too. He had tried to visit the day after the car incident, but Cassandra failed to let him in, thankfully. While I slept, I heard chips from him tossing up rocks to my window while hearing his thoughts pleading for me. After a few nights, the outreaches stopped.

For the next week and a half, the whole town had a weary vibe. There weren't any outrageous teen parties or adults complaining about shenanigans. While out, I hadn't seen Ryder, Preston, or Rod. Evan was acting strange all on his own and it was as if the entire town had upturned in the mood swing of teenage boys. I saw Sheriff Bloomingdale more often now, though. It's as if the silence of the town shocked her into a more suspicious outlook of its citizens. Along with her daughter. Stella, without Ryder, was basically a lonesome wallflower that kept to herself if not with her band of girlfriends.

She and Bailee were friends, so sometimes we would talk, but a part of me felt as if she hated me in the event that her mom told her about me and Ryder—though we didn't actually do anything together. But in girl world, it was the principle of the thing.

"I bet you couldn't get this view down in Florida, huh," Bailee commented from the bed of Evan's borrowed truck one evening. We had put pillows and blankets in there and parked in the field near the lake. For once, it wasn't occupied by teenagers. I looked back to see her chin lifted to the sky while her hands were folded beneath her head.

The night sky was completely black and dotted with millions of shining stars of various sizes and patterns. Somehow the spherical full moon tied everything together and created a strong moonlight. It was mesmerizing and enlightening all the same. In a way, I wish I would've taken a picture and plastered it on my bedroom wall, but I knew that one, I already had a mural of a crescent moon; and two, I knew that no picture would capture its true beauty. I had thought about the moon on my wall for a while and how the mysterious Obsidian-journal-symbol had gotten etched in my brain and painted subconsciously on my wall. It made me want to return to the House every night, but then Andrew would ruin the desire.

Suddenly, there was a crack of branches on the ground and I was seeing someone shining a cell phone flashlight towards the ground. When they approached the truck, I was able to see that it was a girl. The familiar girl who had bypassed the lake party and turned down Preston now stood in front of me. I had noticed her before around town, always alone. Her eyes met mine and Bailee's without the usual hatred she sent towards people.

"You should probably start getting home before it's too late," she recommended.

"Are you kidding?" Bailee scoffed playfully. She gestured upward. "This is freaking gorgeous. It's a full moon."

"All the more reason not to get caught out here with the unmentionables," the girl replied with a mocking grin and a cross of her arms. Bailee only laughed and I realized that maybe they were friends separated by this town's society. Her eyes met mine. "I don't believe we've met."

"We haven't," I assured. "I'm Ashlynn."

"Stormy," she introduced herself. Her hazel eyes then moved past mine and she looked at Bailee. "How's Evan?"

"He's still hanging in there," Bailee sighed. I guessed it had something to do with his best friend.

"I can imagine," Stormy nodded. "I'll have to stop by the shop tomorrow."

"I think he'd like that," Bailee smiled.

"Especially since Preston and the idiots won't be there to ruin things," Stormy laughed. I slightly frowned, but I relaxed when I could feel at least better for knowing someone else noticed how strange this town was acting. Stormy noticed. "Sorry; you're friends with them, right?"

"Well I mean..." am I?

"Only as much as I am," Bailee covered for me, which was relevant. I mean, I was in contact with them as much as she was. I was just interested in Stormy's perspective that confirmed my speculations about tension between Preston and Evan.

"Well good luck with that," she wished me. She looked around briefly. "Like I said: full moon. Be careful."

"We will," Bailee and I chimed and then the girl walked away from us, allowing me to watch until her light was so far away it wasn't visible.

"Sorry about that," Bailee apologized.

"It's fine," I said. I didn't see anything wrong with Stormy.

"She's just not a fan of Preston or Ryder or...anyone really," Bailee explained. "Remember how I told you about Evan's best friend Aaron?" I nodded. "She was his girlfriend...No matter what actually happened, she just blames them for his death."

"What happened?" I asked her.

"Honestly, I don't know," she shrugged. "I've heard it was from a car accident, hunting accident, suicide, some disease...Evan gets upset whenever someone mentions it and I've heard so many different rumors, none of which seemed to originate from Preston or Ryder. I don't even know if Stormy knows for sure, but it's definitely shady whichever way you look at it. That's why Evan doesn't want me hanging out with Preston...and especially not Ryder. They used to be halfway friends, but not anymore. They just tolerate each other."

The beast inside me growled at an insult, yet again. Ryder was apparently a lot of things, but I strongly disagreed that he could be a murderer. But Bailee shrugged it off and composed herself of her usual happiness and began to get up and fold the blankets so we could leave.

When she dropped me off at home, all I could think about was Cassandra's words now. This town was definitely strange and in need of protection...but not of a family name. There was angst and mystery and an undiscovered layer of this town that seemed to become stagnant all because no one did anything about it.

That night, I went to sleep for the first time in my actual room. I was done painting and done letting the fumes out. I had even moved all the furniture back (which the help of Bailee and especially Evan) and I could finally sleep in my bed safely in its spot right beneath the moon mural. It was also the first night that I didn't have any dreams or voices in my head.