We've closed the record store for the day, as well as the bookshop next door. Ethan sits on the floor against the wall on the far end. I slump next to him. I had politely stuck a note on the storefront asking everyone to keep a wide berth of the area - and assuming something of a much more sexual nature than two guys sitting on the floor contemplating existential horrors - the townsfolk politely stay away.

The house is still empty aside from the two of us. Oma had made her excuses the night before, when I had shown up at the house soaking wet and with Ethan in tow, and had gone to occupy the guest bedroom in Sebastian's house.

Part of me hopes she won't be back till late. I need to gather my wits. To make sense of my thoughts. To make sense of Ethan's thoughts. And having Isabella or anyone else acknowledge the strangeness of it would make it far too real. Unease twists in my stomach.

Ethan is staring at the stacks and stacks of records lining the shelves. Where did they come from?

I don't know so I try to ignore it. Instead, I say, 'I think we should...keep our concerns to ourselves for now.'

Ethan looks at me like I'm insane. Maybe I am. 'How?' he demands. 'We live in a town full of freaking mind readers.'

I sigh, dropping my head in my hands. He's lashing out, but I can't feel angry because I hear his thoughts. He's scared.

His head drops onto my shoulder. 'I'm sorry, Lucas. I'm freaking out a little over here if you can't already tell.'

'I know. I am too.'

'Still.' Ethan's hand slips into mine, his weight pushing against my side as he leans in further. 'Part of me wants to forget all this and just let it go. It feels like we have more important things to worry about. After all,' he looks up at me through long lashes, 'we did just get together.'

I start to think that I should remind him of our priorities but then I get lost in the kiss. The 'keep-away' sign up on the storefront seems to be serving more than one purpose.

'Alright, alright,' I finally say, as unfortunately someone has to try to keep a clear head. 'So, let's list all the facts: 'Things we find odd in Brambleburg.''

Ethan nods, looking serious once more. He counts them off on his fingers. 'One: I have a memory of losing my phone. Two: I have a memory of using said phone.'

The idea discomfits me, but it's on his mind too, and I have to say it. Out loud. 'You think the first memory was implanted.' The word feels sour on my tongue. Implanted. It's not a question, but a dictation of his thoughts.

Ethan looks put out. 'Let's not worry about that for now. What's pertinent here is that one and two felt completely unrelated in my mind. It just...made sense to me somehow. It didn't not make sense. And realising this, I can't help but feel that there are many things in Brambleburg that don't actually make sense but feel like they do. Does that make any sense?'

And I know, I know, I should have been concentrating on what Ethan was saying. But is it so bad that I want to kiss him for each time he says 'sense'?

'The second thing,' Ethan continues, 'is that the town has remained unchanged for the past hundred years. And no one seems to remember,' he looks to me for validation and I nod, 'a time before then. So, this could mean either the town appeared, with people already in it....'

'Woah, ho-hold on.' I put up a hand, trying not to sound too horrified. 'That's a little far-fetched, isn't it?'

'Well, the other option is that people could have gotten trapped here one by one - with the last one being over a hundred years ago, so no one remembers it - and that's also why technology hasn't improved since then.'

Ethan looks unsure, but I like this theory far more. 'It aligns with what Isabella said about Brambleburg not having visitors. She's never heard of one in her life, so...not for a hundred years, at least.'

'Your grandmother isn't that old, Lukas.' The voice comes from behind me and I turn to see Isabella.

'Oma,' I say, feeling a little embarrassed. To top it off, I lamely add, 'Didn't you see the sign out front?'

'I do need to fetch my things at some point. I'll be out of your hair - and your heads - soon enough.'

Oma walks towards the stairs and then stops sharply. My guilty thoughts rise to the surface, and along with Ethan's they bubble and spill over.

I should just leave them...give them privacy. Oma takes another step and then pauses again. But why are their thoughts so guilty? Sexual pleasure certainly shouldn't come with this much guilt. Perhaps I should advise Lukas to embrace his sexuality since it's a beautiful thing and....

'Oh my god, Oma, it's not that!' I burst out, not wanting to hear her thoughts on my sexuality anymore. 'We're just talking about...about....'

And then I tell her. Everything. And Ethan looks relieved that we have a grown-up to talk to - although we're two grown men ourselves. And I must admit I'm relieved too. Isabella just listens, looking wise and composed and not scared at all.

'Well, this is certainly something to think about,' she finally says. 'And we will figure it out together.'

And she sounds so sure.

And not even her thoughts are scared.