The first time I see the woman, I don't think anything of it. It's normal for people to sit outside restraints, right? But a lot of time has passed, and I'm starting to feel uneasy. It isn't the way she looks that makes me nervous, though. With her black jeans, long blond hair, and nondescript face she could be anyone just passing on the street. However, this particular Jane Doe looks at everyone with slight suspicion, examining every customer who steps inside as if she's looking for something very specific. It's odd, the watching, but odder still is the fact that she simply doesn't move. I'd been keeping tabs on her for the better part of an hour, and she hasn't done anything at all. She has no phone, no magazine, no laptop, nothing. She doesn't come inside and she never stands up from that bench by the double doors.

But that isn't what really sets me on edge. It's the fact that no matter how many people come into Bubba's BBQ, and no matter how crowded the tables get, this woman's gaze always comes back to my parents. Every time, like the point of a compass. Five people come in, she'll look them up and down, then never look their way again. But every few minutes I'll turn to see her staring right at my mom and dad, eyes intense and calculating, like some kind of cop scrutinizing a suspicious person. I don't like it, not at all.

I lean back in the cushy red booth seat, taking another quick peek out the window. But this time, her eyes bore right into mine. Hurriedly, I redirect my gaze to the floor.

"Haven?" my mom asks. "Are you alright?"

"That woman outside is staring at us," I tell her immediately. I can't dismiss it any more.

Both of my parents turn to look. "What woman?" my Father asks after a minute.

I glance towards the window again, but she's no where to be found. The woman hadn't moved for what seemed like forever, but now she's gone. "Never mind, it's nothing," I say, shaking my head. How strange.

"So," Mom asks, turning back around with a concerned frown. "How was school?" I shrug; chool is always the same.

"Did you get a good grade on that math test?" Dad interjects, pushing his blond hair back from his forehead. I groan dramatically. What a way to kill what was left of my good mood.

"I got a C on it. Even after all that time I spent studying."

Mom frowns. "You really shouldn't cram before a test. If you're having trouble in math you should ask Amber to tutor you."

"Amber promised she'd help when I need it, and I don't. I have a C+ average and I can raise it to a B on our next unit. Don't worry about it. She told me it's easy." Amber's my workaholic best friend who finds perverse pleasure in finding the value of cos (a-b)if sin a=4/7 for π/2≤ a ≤π and cos b=-3/7 for π≤ b ≤ 3π/2. I hate math with a passion and would rather lose a finger than spend an extra hour after school working on it. Besides, the rest of my grades are A's and upper level B's anyway. I actually have interest in my other classes. Math, however, not so much.

Mom seems ready to argue, but is interrupted by the ringing of my dad's phone. He holds up a finger, putting the device to his ear. I internally sigh in relief. My Dad is a 9th grade science teacher, so he gets parent calls rather frequently. Mom and I keep quiet while he's taking them. Hopefully some kid with a failing science grade just saved me from math tutoring.

"Hello?" he asks. There is a pause. I watch as the color drains from my Dad's face and his green eyes widen. "Who is this?" he asks. There is another pause. I wonder what they said to illicit such a reaction. Did one of his dropout students break into the storage room and steal the rock samples as some idea of a joke?

He turns to my mom and whispers something in her ear. I don't catch any of the words, but Mom inhales sharply and looks toward the window, her face paling to the same shade as my dad's. She puts her lips to his ear and whispers something back.

"What is it?" I ask. They continue on as if I said nothing. I catch the word "human," and the phrase "speak with us," but nothing that would explain the situation. "Mom, Dad, c'mon, what's going on?"

My mother throws a quick glance in my direction. Her gaze is wary. Then she says, "Your dad and I are going to step out for a second. We'll be right back." I watch as they stand and head for the door, leaving me sitting in a confused silence.

"Thanks guys." I say sarcastically to the empty table. Inside I'm actually worried. What is so urgent that both of my parents had to leave without an explanation? Normally they get mad at me for getting up in the middle of dinner.

Through the window I watch them walk down the sidewalk next to Bubba's BBQ. They both look around apprehensively. I notice that neither of them get into the car, choosing instead to stand by the street alone. But seconds later a woman walks into the window's line of sight, the same blond lady I saw watching us as we ate. My father seems to stiffen when he sees her. She must be the person he was talking to on the phone. Why would this woman need to see my parents outside? And why did she scout out the restaurant before calling?

I watch as they talk for a second. Both of my parents seem on edge throughout the exchange. Then the woman throws a wary glance in the direction of the restaurant, heading down the street and out of my view with my parents close behind. My heart falls and I sigh in annoyance. I was hoping to get some clue as to who this lady is.

For a moment I sit there and stare at the half eaten plate of barbeque in front of me. Curiosity burns through me, as well as apprehension. It's like an itch at the back of my mind that won't relent. I get the sense that my parents won't tell me what they talked about, even after they return. They don't normally do things like this: my window of opportunity is closing.

All at once I pull myself out of the booth and march toward the door. I have to know what they're talking about. The people at the next table over give me strange looks as I pass them. Perhaps they saw my parents and I leave at separate times. Hopefully the waiter doesn't think we dined and dashed.

The moment I fling the door open I am hit with a wave of cool March air. A shiver runs through me as I sink into the shadow of a nearby tree and scan the small parking lot for any sign of my mom and dad. I don't see them, but I remember that there is a thin alley separating Bubba's from the building next to it. They might have gone there. Quietly, I tip toe over to the side of the restaurant, just barely hearing the echo of voices. They become more coherent with every step I take, getting louder and louder until I start to catch snippets of words and phrases. When I reach the corner I stop, pressing my back against the wall. This is as close as I can get without them seeing me.

"-left the Clan years ago." My dad was saying.

"You were the one who warned me about Gabriel in the first place." Someone replies, the voice feminine. It must be the strange woman. "I trusted you most of all." She continues. "When you found me, I had never even met Garret. I only knew what you said: that Gabriel was after me and Garret sent you as a warning."

"How did you find us?" my mother asks. She sounds shaken.

"Brandon gave me his number back when we first met, when he wanted me to join Garret's clan. It wasn't hard to track." She used my dad's first name. "I broke into the police department and I used their files to search it. It wasn't hard having my . . . talents."

There is a pause in the conversation, giving me time to wonder what she means. What kind of talent is she talking about?

"Katherine, I want you to tell me why you're here and why you've contacted Brandon after all these years?" My mom raises her voice to a near shout at the end. "He told me about you and all the others Garret helped and recruited. I've even met some of them. But we left that life, so why are you here?" She sounds shaken, but her voice doesn't crack and she doesn't back down.

The woman named Katherine pauses for a moment. Then she lowers her voice and I have to strain to hear the words. "Gabriel has gotten more powerful since you left the Gifted world. His forces have nearly doubled in the past ten years, and they're increasing at an alarming rate. You're lucky he hasn't seen fit to come after you and your daughter yet, but mark my words; he will. And when he does, you won't be able to stand against him. Remember that."

"He can't find us," my dad says.

"Oh yes, he can. Maybe he just hasn't looked yet, but if I could find you in two weeks, he could find you in a matter of days." Katherine's voice is almost smug. "However, I can help you stop him. Take this." I hear what sounds like crinkling paper. "Don't open it until you're sure you're alone. I am trusting you with a secret my family kept for generation upon generation. This could be the difference between the domination of Gabriel's alliance or its demise. If he finds out you have this, it'll be a man hunt."

"What is it?" Dad asks. He sounds both intrigued and worried at the same time. I wonder who Gabriel is and what this package has to do with his Alliance. My parents seem frightened of him, but what does he want with them?

"I left you a letter in the envelope. Everything will be explained. Just don't let him find out."

"But-"Mom starts.

"But nothing. I probably should have done this years ago. But back then I thought the Clan could defeat Gabriel's Alliance. At this point, Garret doesn't have a prayer. This is the only way. Good luck."

I hear footsteps start towards the mouth of the alleyway. Without pausing I sprint back to the restaurant and throw myself inside. The bright overhead lights stand in stark contrast to the darkness outside. As casually as possible I half walk, half jog back to the booth and sit down. There's barely time to smooth my hair and shove a bite of food into my mouth before my parents round the corner to our table. I make an effort to act natural, but I doubt that they would notice even if I wasn't trying; they look pretty shaken.

"Is everything okay?" I ask innocently, pretending to examine my food.

"We're leaving." Mom says immediately. She quickly flags down a waiter and asks for the check before I can gather my thoughts.

"What? Why?" I exclaim.

"Something's come up, Haven." Dad says solemnly. Based on the conversation I just overheard, I don't doubt it.

We hustle out of the restaurant in a flurry of rushed movement. I haven't seen my parents this worried in . . . well, never. I have to fight the urge to ask a million questions about the people I heard Katherine talking about. As we drive through the streets of Raleigh I try to get them to tell me why we left early, but they seem to know exactly what I'm doing and dodge my questions expertly. I catch my mother taking fleeting glances at the envelope by her feet, like she's trying to reassure herself it's still there. By the time we reach our neighborhood I am utterly frustrated.

As soon as we pull into the driveway I jump out of the car, dashing through the garage and up the back steps. I make a sharp right turn through the kitchen and leap up the stairs. Then I slam the door to the bathroom on purpose, hoping my parents heard it. When the appropriate amount of time has passed I run the water in the shower as loud as possible. Perhaps I didn't entirely inherit my father's science teacher, environmentally friendly mindset. After waiting a few minutes I creep down the carpeted stairs as quietly as I can. When I reach the bottom I flatten myself against the wall, straining to hear the voices in the next room. My parents are talking in the kitchen, but the running water upstairs should mask any small noises I might make while listening in. I feel a little guilty about eavesdropping, but it's always been a bit of a moral weak point for me. When I was young I would to spy on my parents and relatives until I found out what my Christmas presents were. Although somehow it didn't make it quite as fun opening them. Curiosity killed the cat, I suppose.

"- can't possibly be saying that the Amulet survived the Nation Wars?" my dad was saying.

"If Katherine is telling the truth, this could be the key to fighting off Gabriel!" Mom sounded desperately thrilled, like a death row prisoner granted reprieve.

"Gail, we left that life years ago, when Haven was born. This would bring us in again and put her in danger."

Mom scoffs. "This would mean the end of everything we hid her from in the first place! If we just let this opportunity pass us by, we will be allowing other children to grow up in a world where Gabriel reigns superior. You know what he does to people like me!"

"I know, I know. But . . . what if Katherine is lying? I mean, everyone knows about the fragments of Amulet found in the explosion that killed the Queen over eight hundred years ago."

"I don't think she's lying. It seems like she hates Garret's brother as much as he himself does." This makes my dad pause. The silence stretches on and on until you could cut the tension with a knife. I'm almost certain that they've caught me. Then he says, "Okay. We'll call Garret and give him the information, but we don't tell Haven anything. Garret will take care of this and we'll go back to how we were before: protected and uninvolved."

"Oh Brandon," my mom sighs, "that world didn't just disappear the moment we left it. This is our opportunity to do something!"

"I know, Gail, but we also have to think of Haven, and the lives we've created for us here. I'm not Garret's right hand man anymore. They'll take care of this without me. And when Gabriel's gone, everything will go back to normal. Haven will never know. We'll be safe, for good this time."

"I love you, you know?" Mom says quietly. "I don't want anything to happen to our family either."

"I love you too, Gail. Trust me, Garret will take care of it. We'll be fine. I just don't want to lose you, or Haven."

I hear them start towards the living room, so I turn and creep back up the stairs. My head is reeling from all of the new information I've gathered. As far as I can tell, my parents used to have contact with some kind of dangerous organization. And the package is extremely important to them, somehow. I have no idea who this man Garret is that they mentioned, but he seems to be against this Gabriel.

I mull over everything I just heard as I take a shower and get ready for bed. None of this fits in with my parents' normal behavior and it makes me restless. I pick up a book and start reading, but soon realize that my eyes are scanning the same paragraph over and over without comprehending the words. I put the book away with a sigh of exasperation and turn off my light. It's only nine fifteen, but I can't concentrate on anything. It's like my parents were part of some sort of espionage mission or drug trafficking operation or something. No matter what kind of scenario I imagine, all of them end up with them keeping secrets. That much is evident. What is so dangerous that my mom and dad kept it from me my whole life?

After nearly half an hour of tossing and turning, I pick up my phone from my nightstand, quickly pulling up Amber's number. After a second I send her this: "need to tell you something I overheard. Really freaked out. Meet me in Starbucks @ 7:30." After a minute it rings and I pick it up again. "I'll be there, bring your math homework." I groan before setting my phone down. She seems to want to be my tutor regardless of numerous rejections. Still, I have to tell her what's going on. As much as I know, anyway.

Realizing that I have done everything I can do, I lay back down on my pillows and close my eyes. Tomorrow I'll try to find out more, but for now, the sooner I get to sleep the better. This is out of my hands.

Despite my best efforts, my mind will not settle down. Eventually I start thinking in circles, going through the same information over and over. A while later everything boils down to just one burning question: who is the man they all call Gabriel?