Mom had a thing for broken things, and a hobby for fixing them. Ironic for a woman who couldn't see, but I had a feeling her lack of sight was what made her even more determined at times. Determined and stubborn. When she made up her mind, neither Heaven nor Earth could move her on the matter, which was how we ended up moving to a small town in New Jersey and into a mostly decaying house by a lake.

Sadly, the house wasn't haunted and didn't have a creepy past or even a history of previous owners that had committed suicide. It was just a plain old house with peeling white paint and lopsided shutters on the windows with a roof I told Mom would fall on us while we slept at night. She snorted and said it wouldn't, and it hadn't. It's been a week since we've moved in and both the bedrooms and kitchen have been fixed along with the horror show of the bathroom(thankfully) but I remember thinking that no matter how much they fixed it, I'd never, ever have any positive feelings towards the stupid house.

I was wrong.

I could've kissed the place when I finally dragged Kiara onto the porch- newly painted and bright with the flower pots Mom deposited this morning- and into the hall. I went straight for my room and dumped her on my carpet. She was awake, had been since I pulled us both back to land and out of the freezing water. Awake, but not really here by the glassy look in her eyes.

If I hadn't gone after her, she wouldn't be breathing right now.

I opened my closet and grabbed the warmest duvet I could find. Wrapped her in it. Although her mind seemed gone, her body was still responsive- she was shivering.

I saved her.

It was as if she heard the thought, her head shifted and she was staring up at me. Eyes looking drained. They widened when I took out my phone and took the photo.

"What are you doing?" She croaked, clutching the blanket against her damp chest.

"Taking your funeral photo, in case you finish the job next time," I replied surly. I took another one, frowned at it. "You look terrible. Smile a bit, will you?"

"You're crazy."

I laughed, a high, delirious sound. "I'm crazy? I just dragged you out of a freaking lake! What if I hadn't been following you? What if I didn't get to you in time? What if my phone wasn't waterproof?"

She blinked up at me, shocked into silence.

I chucked my phone on the bed. Instead of landing sensibly though, the stupid thing bounced off the mattress and crashed to the floor on the other side of the bed.

I scowled at Kiara as if she were to blame for that too, lowering myself onto the floor beside her. I worked on not showing how rattled I still was. "You ruined my morning." Silence. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

I watched her gulp hard, her lips grayish, gaze foggy, as if her soul was lost but trying- and failing- to find its way back to reality. Not at all like the prim and partly smug girl from last night. I pursed my lips, then pulled off my shirt with a tug, throwing it over my shoulder. She studied my exposed skin with that continued blankness. The look annoyed me, and that annoyance confused me. What had I been expecting a reaction?

Focus on getting her back here.

"Get me a blanket."

She blinked.

I quirked an eyebrow. "I'm cold, get me a blanket. Or are you too busy enjoying the view?"

Another minute past as I regarded her, saw the dumbfounded look on her face when she realized I was dead serious. She wobbled to her feet and I almost told her to sit down again, but she made it to the closet. Fumbled around for a blanket. She staggered back to me, held out the fabric with shaky fingers.

I made no move to take it. "I carried you all the way here, my arms are tired."

Her nose flared, eyes narrowed. The fog cleared a bit. She put the blanket around me, then stood there awkwardly like a robot awaiting further instructions.

I stood up, feeling the warmth of the blanket already chasing the chill out of my skin. "Come on, you're making me hot chocolate."

I walked out of my bedroom, heard the slow hesitant footsteps trailing behind. The kitchen was down the hall, connected to the living room. The kitchen was all black marble, silver cupboards with three stools at the granite table across from the stove. All together not bad, but I was never going to call it home nonetheless.

I seated myself at one of the stools, wrapping the blanket more securely around my body.

I glanced over at Kiara, who stood at the threshold of the room, looking uncertain.

"Hurry up, woman. I'm freezing to death."

She scowled, but stalked over to the stove. After a moment of looking around, she picked up a coffee cup, a green one.

"I want the Minions cup," I said.

She frowned at the the yellow cup I'd pointed to. "Aren't you too old for that?"

"Is that anyway to talk to your savior?"

Her face burned, part embarrassment, part anger. I hid a smile as she went back to her task. I pointed out where she could find the chocolate mix and sugar, but otherwise waited quietly until she brought me the steaming cup of hot chocolate.

"Come sit down," I ordered.

She didn't protest. Was probably too tired to.

I slid the steaming mug over to her. "Drink all of it."

She furrowed her brow, where curly strands of wet hair dangled over. The rest of her hair clung to her neck in clumps, not in a bad way either. I frowned at the thought, chased it away before it could explain itself.

"Why are you being nice to me?" she asked.

Why indeed.

"I don't really know, but tell me something. Was the reason why you jumped because of your werewolf friend?"

"Werewolf?" She asked, eyebrows shooting upwards.

Before I could respond though, the front door flew open and heavy footsteps thudded towards the kitchen. Not Mom's footsteps and definitely none of the workers, they didn't open doors like that- like they were trying to break it.

I got up, watched Will Cage emerge into the doorway with a small smile. "There's your werewolf right there."