This is the biggest room I've ever seen. The most luxurious too. I'm sure the term fit for a princess is what best describes it. The high ceilings and polished wooden floors. The golden candelabras are all lit up pushing out the darkness. Almost every piece of fabric in the room is fine silk, even the covers on the large double bed that's pushed against the far wall.

A warm summer breeze comes rushing in through the open window/door flooding the room and making the multiple candles gently sway back and forth.

I look down at my body. I'm wearing a snow-white nightgown that hugs the flood. I reach my hands up onto my head. I have long, flowing dark hair that travels down my back like gentle waves. I rest my hand on the exposed flesh near my chest. I feel hurt, sad, and frustrated. I'm so frustrated. Why am I frustrated?

"Vanessa," a man's voice suddenly echoes from behind me.

I scream as I spin around. Another scream echoes from me when I see the man standing behind me—the faceless man. He had no key identifiable markers, except for a small sewn-on symbol of a fire on the left side of his jacket.

We remain silent and stare at each other for a few moments.

"Vanessa," he says again, breaking the silence that had settled between us. He extends his right hand out to me, his soft fingers begging me to reach out and take them.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. I knew that if I took his hand he would pull me onto the bed and hold me tight against him. I wanted nothing more than to be held one last time by him.

But I wasn't going to let him.

"Vanessa," he calls out to me, desperation evident in his voice.

"My name is Vega," I snap at him.

He lowers his hands and slumps his shoulder, he's upset, and I can feel it rolling off him like the cold breeze that's still rushing in from the open door.

"Who are you? Where am I?" I ask.

He doesn't reply, instead, he walks closer to me until he's right up in my personal space. I want to move away, but I don't. He's a magnet and I'm powerless to resist.

"Vanessa," he says again.

I curl my hands into tight fists. "My name is Vega!" I scream.

A pair of icicles fly into the walls to my right and left, and I swear they came from my hands.

I gasp as I shoot up in my bed. The icy feeling that I thought was gone was shooting violently through my body once again, and just like the last time it shows no signs of when it was going to stop.

Resting one hand against my heart and looking widely at the fingertips of the other I remain silent as flashes of the dream run through my mind like my personal movie. The dream wasn't real, I know that much for sure, but it felt real. It felt like I was actually there in that beautiful room in that nightgown, shooting ice out of my fingertips. And the boy, that faceless boy, the magnet pulling me forward.

Vanessa. That's what he called me, that's who he was so sure I was. Sighing I rub my palms down my face wiping away all traces of sweat. My heavy eyes start to droop shut. Just a few more minutes, I think. That's all I need, just a few more minutes of sleep.

Beep!

Beep!

Beep!

My eyes fly open at the sound of my alarm. That goddamn alarm!

"Shit," I mutter the curse quietly under my breath as I push myself out of my bed and dreadingly make my way to my bathroom where a hot shower is calling to my chilly body.

Closing the door behind me I peel my clothes off of my aching body and climb into the shower. I quickly turn on the water and as soon as it reaches the temperature I want I move away from the edges and stand under the stream. After washing myself I casually lean against the shower wall and angle the head so that the water is still hitting me. I close my still-tired eyes but instead of being met by darkness, I see the faceless boy from my dream.

"Vanessa," he calls out to me. Gasping, I open my eyes and turn off the shower.

"What is happening to me?" I whisper thinking of the boy and feeling the cold return, chilling my fingertips.

I rush around my room and throw on the first acceptable outfit I find before running down the stairs toward the kitchen where breakfast is waiting for me.

"Good morning, how did you sleep?" my father asks as he hands me a plate of fried eggs on toast.

I toss my bag to the floor next to my chair. I shrug. "All right, no complaints."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Well I don't know what to say I mean I slept all night so therefore I slept all right," I snap.

His eyes widen and he leans forward in his chair.

"Okay young lady there is no need to—"

"Will the two of you just shut up and eat your food before it gets cold," my mother cuts across my dad as she stabs her eggs with her fork.

Silence reigns and my father and I give each other 'the look'. It's a silent look we invented when I was a child, basically, it meant let's stay quiet. We only ever bring it out when my mom snaps at us, which only comes once in a blue moon or red moon (girls you know what I'm talking about). Or, when she gets a shitty client which I'm guessing is the reason based on the large file sitting next to her.

We quietly eat the rest of our breakfasts.

"I should get going, I don't want to be late for school," I say as I shove the last of breakfast into my mouth. I rush to the sink and put my plate inside and then head back to my chair and grab my bag.

"Have a great day," my dad says with a smile.

"Thanks, Dad." I turn to my mom who is still reading the sake page she started five minutes ago. "Bye, Mom."

"Yeah, bye honey," she says without looking up.

With my bag slung over my shoulder and my earphones in I start my journey to the last place anyone wants to go to.

Back at the Kate's house, Tim watches as his wife starts scratching the back of her neck and starts swearing under her breath as she reads her case file.

"You need to stop doing this," Tim says.

Lena's head snaps up from her file and she glares at her husband. "Don't tell me what to do. I have a very big case coming up and I need to be ready."

Tim sighs and shakes his head. "You're not worried about your case, you've been ready for that case for weeks. What's this really about?" She doesn't reply but her eyes say all that needs to be said. He sighs and shakes his head. "We talked about this, and you said yes."

Tears begin to pool in her emerald eyes and she furiously shakes her head. "There has to be another way we can do this."

Anger surges throughout Tim as he looks at his wife. A few days ago she was completely on board with the plan and now all of a sudden her heart seems to have changed its course. "There isn't Lena! There just isn't. We agreed and we can't take it back, not now. You have to understand that this was all planned out years ago and it was going to happen whether we agreed or not. The best thing we can do is go along with it."

Lena releases the cry she had been keeping in for the past few days and tosses her case file to the other end of the table.

Leaning against my locker I get the sudden sensation that I'm being approached. As footsteps echo from behind me I start to feel the same way I did in the dream.

I feel... I feel the magnet.

Vanessa!

I cringe just as a hand touches my shoulder.

"Vega," Seth says from behind me.

I quickly turn to face him, my eyes widen when I see the bright red scarf wrapped around his neck. A splash of colour on his normally pitch-black canvas. Somehow it makes his normally dark eyes seem soft and light. Eyes that seem familiar, as if I'd seen them long before he and I met in the school parking lot.

"Hey," I say with a small smile, deciding not to be an asshole even though he made me do double the work on our project.

He moves his body so that he is leaning against the locker beside me. "I just wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly yesterday and for not... and for not helping with the project."

I want to be cocky with my answer, I want to snap at him and let him know just I angry I am at him. But his apology just seems too sincere, there's no way I can do that to him.

"It's... it's fine. I assumed you had something important going on... with Carla." I couldn't stop the disgust from showing in my voice as I said her name.

Seth noticed this and smirked. "You jealous or something?"

I scrunch my face. "What... no... of course not. Why would I be jealous of her?"

He smiles. "You don't have to be."

We both gasp at the same time before a blanket of silence wraps around us. It's as if we're both surprised by his confession and equally pondering what it means.

"So, are you going to accept it or not?" he suddenly asks, breaking the silence.

"Accept what?"

He looks at me as if he said some joke and I didn't get the punchline. "My apology, do you accept my apology?"

I smile. "Why are you speaking like that?"

Now he doesn't get the joke. "Like what?"

I make myself appear taller and hold my jacket like I assume a gentleman would back in the day when trying to emphasize something. "Like a gentleman."

He shakes his head. "You're being ridiculous."

"Not that I'm complaining, it's actually very funny to watch," I laugh. 

He continues to shake his head. "So are—"

"And It's also—"

"Are you going to accept the fucking apology or not?" he snapped, unable to take my light teasing any more.

"I accept the apology," I chuckle. "I just wanted to annoy you," I say with a smile.

He smirks. "You are a mean woman." 

"I know, " I smile. After a few seconds, I put back on a serious face. "I'm going to send you the new version of our project, read it and tell me what you think. I also expect to see some changes made."

"Yes, mam."

With the smirk still tugging on his lips he turns around and walks away, leaving me alone with the aching feeling in my heart and the voice in my head whispering the name Vanessa.

The nervous girl stands in the dimly lit room looking toward her leader who is still standing quietly at his desk. She had been called into this unexpected meeting about half an hour ago, well actually she was forced to attend. She starts to play with her finger as she waits for him.

Eventually, he decided to speak up," Is everything going according to plan?"

She clears her throat, the sound echoing off the walls.

"It's... it's going as well as can be expected, Your Highness," she responds, but her tone doesn't match the confidence of her words.

He turns away from his desk and faces her once again. He didn't believe a word she said, that much was clear.

"You don't seem convinced."

She starts pulling at her fingers again as she silently tries to come up with an answer that wouldn't result in some sort of punishment.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "Well, come on! I don't have all day."

The anger in his voice causes her to jump back ever so slightly. "Well... we... I mean I simply think that more time is needed. That is all, Your Highness, I swear."

His hands curl into fists and his mouth twists into a scowl. "I don't have more time, her memories will return soon as the witch said they would, and once they do my plan must be put in motion. I have waited for it long enough. Now, go out there and do what I've hired you all to do."

Not wanting to anger him further the now shaking girl turns around and hurries toward the door. But, just before she gets there he speaks again, "What about the boy?"

She stops and half turns back toward him. This time keeping her voice steady she replies, "You have nothing to worry about there. I promise you that."

"You better be right, 'cause saints help you if you're not." 

And the plot thickens my dear readers.