CW: This chapter contains another brief car accident scene.

At ten o'clock on a Friday night late in May in York, Nebraska, the air is cool. The grass that cushions my knees like a pillow is soft and plentiful. The moon is shining bright in its fingernail shape, smiling down on the cozy town. The stars are twinkling and the crickets are chirping and the houses' glowing orange lamps light up their porches. Somewhere in York, Nebraska, a child is getting tucked in by his parents and read a bedtime story. Somewhere in York, Nebraska, a man and a woman are drinking wine and dancing happily in their kitchen instead of washing the dishes. Somewhere in York, Nebraska, families are settling in on their plush sofas with popcorn and popping in a movie. Somewhere in York, Nebraska, young friends are sitting in the basement and playing Spin the Bottle, and one of those girls may get her very first kiss tonight. Somewhere in York, Nebraska, a baby is probably being born, and elsewhere being made. Tonight in York, Nebraska, everything is how it ought to be.

In a mere two months' time, York, Nebraska, will have forgotten all about its once member of the populace, Alyssa George. As soon as the limp body in my arms regains consciousness, it will have forgotten all about its once friend, Aspen Quinn.

I carelessly toss the helmet aside, pulling the motionless body into my lap and cradling it, rocking back and forth like a mental patient in a movie. I care not for how my salt tears stain his skin, nor do I care if the neighbors can hear my broken wails. Let them come. Please, please, let someone come.

"It didn't have to be this way, you know."

I shoot him a look of the utmost fury. "No, no it didn't! I told you what you wanted, and you took him from me, anyway!"

The monster frowns. "Well, I was going to let him go at first. But then he spoke of his intent to go to the police, and I mistakenly had not entertained that possibility. So, really, I was left with no choice."

"Everyone always has a choice," I spit. Literally spit.

"You didn't," he says smugly, a punch to the gut. I lean over Eli and dry heave into the grass, the blubbering and crying blocking my sinuses.

And he's right. I didn't have a choice. My mother did, and she chose this life. I, as an un-planned for, random outcome of their experiment, did not. And now I'm left to reap the consequences of her actions.

Was that her intent? I can't think of any good reason why she would lead me to Ian. If what he claims is true, and it was her who'd given me the nightmares and visions all these years, I have absolutely no idea as to why.

In a moment of weakness, I allow the thought of going with Ian to Colorado to enter my mind. "What would happen?" I ask. "If I went with you?"

He's surprised, I think, but the aura's gone so quickly that I can't be sure. "I would run some tests on you. See what's different about your DNA. Some bloodwork... And then we'd try to stretch your ability — see how far we can take it. Maybe you're immune to the illness Delia was plagued by. If you are, I'd love to find out why, in case of the event of one of the others becoming ill. Or, at the very least, I could attempt to save you, if you became ill, because I could not save your mother."

I look down at the body in my lap, his unkempt hair sticking sweaty to his skin, glued together by my own tears. The thought crosses my mind that if I have to live without my father and my friend, I might not want to be saved. "And Eli?"

"Oh, he'll wake up in eight hours, give or take. And he won't remember what happened tonight or any of the last three months. He won't be able to tell the nurses how he fell and the doctors will attribute it to his concussion. Only there will be no discernible evidence of his head's collision with another object. They will give him exercises to perform in an attempt to trigger his short term memory, but it won't work. He'll be discharged, and he will go home, and he'll continue on with his life. All-in-all, he'll be just fine."

I wipe my nose and mouth on the sleeve of my robe, which I have yet to rid myself of. I use the other sleeve to wipe the perspiration off of Eli's forehead. What's going on inside your head? I wonder. Can you sense what is happening? Can you hear us? Do you hear my voice and not know who I am? Would it be better for me to stay here to fill in some gaps for you, or would it be easier if I just disappeared?

But the other person I can't live without is the one I can't agree to leave behind. "And my dad?"

"Well, for him we have two options." Ian pauses, prompting me to look at him. "One, we wipe his memory. He doesn't remember me; he doesn't remember you; he doesn't remember Delia. But that would require me to set the date on the machine very far back, farther than I've ever tested, so I cannot say with certainty that it will work. But he won't just forget you and me and your mom; he'll forget everything that has happened along the way. So, while it offers him a fresh start, it's likely that he'll suffer some type of brain damage or mental disability."

I shudder at the thought. Over my dead body. And the other?" I ask, even though I'm pretty sure I know what option two is and it really does have to do with an actual dead body and I don't really want to hear it spoken aloud.

"Are you reading my mind right now?"

"No."

"We dispose of him."

I begin choking again, this time hocking up more than just air. "Neither," I tell him between coughs.

Ian frowns, a permanent fixture marring his otherwise handsome face. He is not the face of the Gray who's haunted me. But here we are. "Oh, my dear," he says, "did you think I was giving you a choice? I believe we've already established that you don't have one."

I bring myself back to an upright position, and I feel a bulge protruding from Eli's back pocket. His phone. An idea strikes me, and I decide it's worth a shot. I dry up my sniffles and wipe away my tears. I try my best to make my voice as steady as possible. "Here's what's gonna happen," I tell Ian, feigning confidence. "You're gonna go inside and wake my dad up. The two of us are gonna walk out of here, and we're gonna bring Eli to the hospital. You will pack up and go back to Colorado. And you will not contact me again."

He laughs, of course. "And what makes you think I'm gonna do that?"

Steady. "Because I know for a fact that Eli called the cops on the way over here and told them where he was going to be. He figured Damian might cause some trouble and it'd be safe to forewarn them. I have no way of knowing what time he asked them to come check on him by if they didn't hear back otherwise. So they could realistically be here at any moment."

He squints his eyes at me and I feel beige. He's insecure. "You're bluffing."

"Maybe I am, or maybe I'm not." I fish Eli's phone out of his pocket, my stomach in knots. "Here, have a look for yourself," I say and toss it to Ian. I don't have my phone on me; I'd left it behind in the Camry. But if I know Eli, the first thing he did when he hopped into Sol's truck with my dad was try and call me to warn me. And if he had, when Ian goes into the call history, there my contact name will be, dialed minutes before Eli had arrived here. And Eli is not one for the simplicity and efficiency of first and last names. No, my phone number is listed in his phone as...

"Detective Bumbles?" Ian asks.

My stomach relaxes for the moment. Thank you, Eli.

"I guess we'll just have to bring him with us and dispose of him on the road," he mutters. He turns to the house. "Come on."

I tighten my hold on Eli. "I'm not leaving him," I say through clenched teeth.

"You needn't worry. When they cops show up, they'll get him to the hospital."

"And I intend to be here when they come. Whether you are here or not is up to you."

Ian presses his palms to his eyes. "I trust you won't go anywhere," he says, but it's more like a command than a suggestion. Ian goes inside, and I have no choice but to stay here and wait. I won't leave Eli alone, and I'm not strong enough to carry him with me and make an escape.

I'm left alone with my olive for point two seconds before Ian comes running back outside. It is the first time I realize that he's wearing sneakers with his slacks and button-down. He was planning on an outcome of running the whole time. "Where is he?!" he snaps at me.

Dad escaped...?

"Tell me where he is, right now!"

I feel fear in Ian's aura for the first time. Dad escaped. "I've been out here with you the whole time!"

"Don't you lie to me, Aspen!" he spits my name as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, broccoli and brussel sprouts.

Dad escaped... and left me behind? A whole new kind of fear washes over me. One that can only come with the overwhelming feeling of utter aloneness.

Ian grabs my arm and yanks me upwards. I yell and kick and scream and Ian cups his palm over my mouth and Eli lays still atop the grass. Ian drags me to his Range Rover and throws me in it, hurriedly tying my wrists and taping my mouth shut, all while I continuously kick and scream, but he is much stronger than me and the tape masks my volume. The tires squeal as he peels out of the driveway, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight. I've never prayed before, but I feel as though this is as good a time to start as any.

Dear God, I start. I know I've never fully believed in your existence, but Eli has always believed in you. So, please — if you can hear me — please help him. I don't care what happens to me. I really don't. I can handle it. I'm an expert at disappearing. Just... just help him. Um, amen.

When I open my eyes, we are passing through the neighborhood at a rapid rate. I know there'll be no cops patroling suburbia at this hour; they're surely all hanging around local restaurants and bars to make sure no graduates are celebrating by underage drinking. Even if I could manage to get the door unlocked and opened, I could never jump out at this speed without hurting myself. And since my hands are tied and my mouth is taped, Ian would probably turn around to get me before I could get away.

I close my eyes again. I shouldn't be here, tied up in the backseat of Ian's Rover. This isn't how it was supposed to end...

Tap, tap, tap.

No one was supposed to get hurt...

Tap, tap, tap.

Eli wasn't supposed to lose his memories...

Tap, tap, tap.

I finally peel my attention from my own self-loathing to the source of the insistent tapping. Looking out of the backseat window, I can just make out a figure in the darkness. The figure is running alongside of the vehicle at an inhuman speed. It is small — smaller than me — and wearing a hoodie. Its hair is tied up into a small, blonde ponytail.

Impossible.

She turns towards me, confirming my suspicions. But it can't be her. One, because she's likely at a celebratory graduation dinner; two, because she can't run like The Flash; and three, because Ian hasn't seemed to hear the same tapping that I had or see the girl racing along the shoulder of the freeway. Stef mouths one word over and over. I watch her mouth move, completely perplexed, as I try to make it out.

She's saying, "Run."

And then I watch in horror as her impossible velocity out-speeds the Rover. In a matter of seconds and much before I've fully grasped what's going on, the car slams on its brakes with a deafening screech like nails on a chalkboard. Ian swerves off the road in attempt to avoid colliding with something — or someone — and we slide off of the shoulder and flip over into the ditch. The entire world is deafeningly loud for no more than thirty seconds as we crash, and then everything turns a shade of calm as we settle into the earth. The airbag had deployed, effectively knocking Ian unconscious. But he could awaken at any moment, so I'm not taking any chances in waiting for help to arrive.

I try to open the door, but my hands are still tied and I can't grip my fingers around the handle. The blood is rushing to my head as I hang upside down and the pressure builds to tremendous amounts as I wriggle my wrists this way and that to try and loosen the rope, although it seems that the more I move, the tighter they become. My sight settles on a wonderful, miraculous, shiny metal object no longer than my pinky finger that now rests casually on the ceiling of the vehicle above the passenger seat. My keys. I reach out as far as I can and then even farther and grasp the silver key ring between my two index fingers. I hold my hands up and let the keys fall down safely between my palms.

I slide the door handle through the rope. There is no room for the handle, and the rope squeezes my wrists like it's juicing a piece of fruit. It take a couple tries, but I finally manage to pull hard enough to put a crack in the door. I jab my elbow into the seatbelt to unfasten it and then throw all of my weight into the door. I roll out onto prickly grass.

Amazingly, there are no cars on the road. I'm not even sure where we are. It must be some back road that leads out of town, opposite the interstate, because there is nothing surrounding me but trees on one side and corn on the other. It is dark, and I am afraid, and I am alone. I run into the foliage and I don't look back.

Eventually, after many stumbles, my eyesight somewhat adjusts to the darkness. I find the sharpest tree branch in the nearest vicinity and saw the rope back and forth over it until it snaps. I rub my bruised wrists and peel off the duct tape from my mouth and start to toss them both to the ground, but then I think better of it. I tie the rope through the keys and then knot it around my neck like a necklace. I ball up the tape and shove it into a knot in the trunk of the tree.

Then I stand still and listen. I know she's here. I know she's watching me. I know because I can feel her black aura. It reeks of guilt.

"Stef," I whisper. "Stef, where are you?" Take a few steps. Whisper a little louder. "Stef!" The aura tightens around me like a stubborn mule that refuses to walk. I roll my eyes for no one to see. "Mom?" I ask politely.

Stefanie Sims appears before my very eyes. Shocked, I fall back into the trunk and knock my head on a branch. Stef watches me, expressionless.

"What now?" I ask, rubbing my head. "Where am I?"

"You're about a mile outside of town," Stef says in Stef's voice. It's such a small detail, but it calms me immensely.

"Which way back?"

Her eyes darken. "Are you kidding me?" she says a little too loudly. Good thing no one can hear her but me. "You need to keep moving! You need to get out of here, get to Waco. You need to find a well-lit, well-populated area, and stay there until I say so."

I almost laugh. "Are you kidding me? I'm not running away. I'm going back for Dad and Eli."

I take a step in a randomly chosen direction, and Stef disappears from her spot and reappears in front of me. This time, I'm expecting it. "Your father can take care of himself," she tells me sternly. And then, a little softer, "And there's nothing you can do for Eli."

"I've already exposed them as my weaknesses. If Ian or Liam or whoever he is gets to them before I do, he'll take them and use them as bait. He'll threaten me with them until he gets what he wants." I pivot to the left.

Stef once again stands before me. "You're walking right back into danger!"

"All thanks to you."

Stef shrinks away from me, physically hurt. "You have to understand, I... I only did what I thought was best for you..."

"It's too late for apologies," I say, for she is not the only one who is hurting. "Now. Which way back to town?"

She thrusts her arm out into the darkness, pointing towards the trees to the left of her and to the right of me. "That way," she says, but she doesn't look me in the eyes. And because I know I cannot trust her, I go the opposite direction.

She appears in my way, arms out, her expression one of terror. "I can't let you!" she says.

I continue to walk forwards. When I'm face to face with her, I blow. She dissipates into the air around herself, dust particles carried away on the wind. Not real.

I keep my arms out to my sides as I walk. I allow them to brush against every tree as I pass it. I now know the kind of mind tricks she plays, and I'll be darned if I let her trick me into turning around. As long as the branches surrounding me are tangible, I am in control of my own mind.

I'm not sure how long I walk for. Long enough to begin to sweat from what feels like every single pore in my body. I finally rid myself of the graduation robe and tie it around my waist. I have to keep moving.

After what feels like way more than a mile, I've somewhat developed a plan. Get to my car. Get to Ian's. Get Eli into my car. Get to the hospital. Pray that Dad made it home safely. Call Theresa from the car. Tell her... I haven't gotten that far.

Getting antsy, I mistep and trip over a particularly large tree root. My face smacks the earth below me and I taste dirt. I hear movement in the midst of my stillness, the cracking of leaves under footsteps — hopefully human. I push myself up and there he is, clad in a pair of dark wash jeans and a white long-sleeved button down. Had he been wearing that before? I'm too relieved to remember. His long hair is down and loose and falls just past his shoulders. He smiles at me, and I envision a glowing orb of white light around him. Or maybe coming from him.

"You okay, there, A.G.?" he says, and his voice seems deeper than usual, but I'm too relieved to care.

"I am now," I say as I stand. "I'm so glad you're okay... How'd you find me?"

He says something indecipherable, muffled. I begin to walk towards him, but he remains where he is. "What?" I ask.

He repeats what he'd said, but I still can't understand him. "Eli, you're not making any—" I trip again, and I see him reach for me as I fall, but he's too far away. This time, my head makes contact with another knotted tree root, right on my temple.

I sleep.

__________

GUYS. I am aware of the time that has passed between my posting of chapters 26 and 27. I do apologize. BUT my excuse is actually really cool.

I RECORDED A CHRISTMAS EP. I'm not kidding. That's the cover attached. AND YOU CAN LISTEN TO IT FOR FREE. Just go to soundcloud.com/candaceandmichael. I am honestly so proud of this and we worked so hard on it.