Three days passed and still no news of the man. I knew it was ridiculous, but the longer I didn't hear of him, the more hopeful I became that he may have survived the deadly fall. Crazier things had happened. The small chance that he was alive was keeping me sane. You'd think I'd be happy to have one less person trying to kill me.

      "Are you sure she's not going to be there?" Andrews asked just barely stepping out of the house.

     "I've got a feeling she'll be out," I explained for what must have been the fifth time that night. I was really starting to regret my invitation. "So, no I'm not sure, but if she's there we'll leave. It's not a big deal, Andrews. And may I remind you that you are in no way obligated to join me."

     "I want to come," he pressed, shutting the door.

     "Alright, then." I pulled him into the driveway. "Let's get go, I'm sure they're already in bed."

     I knew Andrews was afraid of my mother, most people were, but I didn't expect getting him to sneak into my old home to be so difficult. Though he walked ridiculously slow, we eventually made it to the street I grew up on and I was not happy with what I found. Feeling as though a pair of eyes was following me, cautiously I searched my surroundings. Paranoia overpowering, I drowned out Andrews' voice, yet still acutely aware that he was stood next to me. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest at the mere thought of being attacked in Andrews' presence. I could barely even protect myself.

     Slowly inching my head to the right, I caught a glimpse of a purple cloak, situated behind a nearby lamp post and fear rapidly twisted to irritation. He sure chose the best moments to show up. I was tempted to ignore Xander, but he beckoned me over with his long finger. I shook my head, refusing to be ordered around, but the stern look he shot me made it clear that if I didn't come to him, he'd come to me, and I wasn't having any of that. Resisting a groan, I signalled him to give me a minute.

     "Andrews," I began in an awfully fake, sweet tone, interrupting the conversation that I didn't follow. He frowned at the interruption, apprehension settling on his features when he got a good look at me. I was, as he would describe it, giving him my pleading puppy eyes.

     "Oh, no," he said, observing my act of innocence.

      "It's really nothing bad as long as you remain reasonable." I hoped Xander was smart enough to find a somewhat decent hiding spot. Andrews was already dreading my words; he pinched the bridge of his nose in anticipation of my answer. "I need to step away for a minute and I need you not to come with me." Already he didn't like the request. "I promise it's not a secret boyfriend, drug dealer or any other theories you may have. I just need to have a quick chat with this person."

     It took a few moments for the response to force itself out of his mouth. "Alright."

      "Promise you won't follow me?" I requested, already walking away. Though pursing his lips, he nodded and took a seat on the sidewalk.

      Fortunately, Xander wasn't as stupid as I believed. He hadn't just stayed behind the thin post, instead I found him sitting on someone's doorstep, which I didn't really think was any better. I hoped no one was home. He stood when he noticed me; relaxed stance immediately switched to business mode.

      "Must you wear that thing everywhere?" I flicked the purple cloak. "Had Andrews seen you, he'd have probably put it all together."

     "What's with your eye?" he ignored me.

     "Another useless injection, but that doesn't matter. What do you want?" I crossed my arms.

     I didn't want to participate in small talk with Xander. He didn't have to know that my eye had been twitching and watering all day, another seemingly useless injection.

      "I wear the cloak with pride," he started, again ignoring my last statement, but this time to answer a question I asked two minutes ago. "It's not my job to assure that your identity isn't discovered, and it wouldn't be a bad thing if it was."

     "Mimpi begs to differ."

     He frowned at the name, as though unsure who I meant.

     "Guanli doesn't care if your identity is revealed," he reasoned once he put a face to my choice of nickname. "She simply doesn't want that boy being the only one to know. It would only deepen your bond."

     I groaned, sliding my hands across my face. Not this again. Jesus Christ, Andrews, and I were friends! "I'm not even going to try to get that argument through your thick heads, it never works. What do you want?"

     "Perhaps it never works, not because we are thick headed, but because your arguments are invalid, as you know deep down that we are correct."

     He really was more annoying than Mimpi. Who would have thought that was possible? I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.

      "Xander," I started, in a voice that was meant to be calm. "You obviously called me over for a reason, please tell me what it is. I've got things to do."

     "Well, cancel them," he said plainly. "I have something to show you." He started walking away, expecting me to follow.

     "I don't think so." I stopped him. "Obviously this isn't an emergency if you had time to chide my totally platonic relationship. I am not ditching Andrews and I've not seen my siblings for a while. So, I am going to do what I intended to do and then we can meet up."

      He didn't look pleased with my statement, but I made it clear in my tone that he wasn't changing my mind.

      "It needs to be at night." He crossed his arms.

      "It'll still be nighttime in three hours," I commented. I wasn't reassured by the fact that what he needed to show me needed had to be in the pitch darkness of the night. I tried not to think about it too much.

      "And what do you expect me to do in the meantime?"

     "I don't know. Go for a walk into traffic for all I care."

      "You're insufferable."

      "Maybe so," I agreed. "But you and your people are both metaphorically and literally a ginormous pain in my ass, so let's consider ourselves even."

      He narrowed his eyes.

     "If we're done here, I'm going to get going," I said, walking away as it seemed he had nothing else to say. "See you later, Xander."

      "See you where exactly?" he asked. "Where are we meeting?"

      "I really don't care," I called back. "Somehow you knew I'd be here; I'm assuming you'll be able to find me once I sneak out of the Andrews' home."

      He didn't answer. I took his silence as proof that I was correct and returned to an impatiently waiting Andrews. I thanked Andrews for waiting patiently before he could make a comment and then dragged him towards the Binsfield home.

       The van wasn't in the driveway, which pretty much meant my mother wasn't home, but still I made Andrews follow me towards my usual path through the back yard, out of precaution.

      "You've got to be kidding me?" Andrews said looking defeated, after I had explained how we'd climb the six-foot-tall gate and crossover between the oak tree and shed.

     "I do it all the time. No big deal." Swiftly, I hopped over the fence.

      "No big deal," he muttered, groaning as he swung his leg over the black gate. "What are you? Part ninja?"

     "Darn," I faked disappointment. "Now you know my big secret." My pulse quickened, slightly uncomfortable by how close to the truth his words were.

     "Need a boost?" I offered with a smile, hoping to differ the subject.

      "Shut up," he huffed, finally getting over the fence but falling on his ass in the process.

     "She better not be messing with us," he mumbled as I unlocked the backdoor to the dark home. I poked my head inside, reaching my hand backward to cover Andrews' complaining mouth.

      The house was quiet. Almost too quiet... I jumped, backing into Andrews upon hearing the sudden noise. Rapidly composing myself, I smiled and turned on the kitchen light. That horrid, loud noise could only be Mr. Welf's snoring.

     "It's not funny," Andrews complained as I continued to laugh at his frightened face. He had practically jumped off the porch, ready to run.

      "My mother's not that scary."

     "Don't ridicule me," he protested, climbing the porch steps once again and following me into the house. "My fears are completely reasonable considering she's chased me with a broom when I was barely eight years old."

      I laughed at the memory, though at the time I had been thoroughly embarrassed.

     "And I'd have thought the most traumatizing moment, was on my eleventh birthday when you received the worst of her death glare and tumbled back through the window you entered."

      "You're right," he agreed. "I still have nightmares about those eyes."

      Chuckling quietly as to not wake the old man, we headed towards the stairs. The kids would be ecstatic to see Andrews again.

      "Hello," a voice called as we passed the office.

     Both Andrews and I shrieked, whipping around to either run or beg for forgiveness. We didn't get to do either. In the process of turning, we bumped heads, and both cursed as we held our temples. Groaning, I removed my hand, stood straight and snook a glance towards the voice.

      Isaiah was sat in the rolling, grey chair, book I bought in his lap and smug smirk etched on his pale face.

      "I've been told my impressions are quite impressive."

     "You little shit," I said breathlessly, laughing as I couldn't find it in myself to be angry at the boy... and Andrews' mixture of a confused, terrified, and relieved expression was priceless.

      "Did she really chase you with a broom?" Isaiah asked Andrews, smirk still on his face.

      "Yes. Three times!"

      "Don't forget that time with the mop," I added, as I pulled Isaiah into a firm hug, wishing him a Merry Christmas, and handing a gift that I had kept aside. I didn't want them thinking I had forgotten about them, nor did I want Santa getting all the credit when I'm the one who put so much thought into their gifts.

      "And here I thought I wouldn't even be able to repay you for the comic book set." Isaiah smiled.

      "What comic book set?" I feigned confusion. I must not have been very convincing, Andrews bit back a snigger and Isaiah rolled his eyes.

     "You're the only one who knew how much I wanted it."

      "I, uh, you must have slipped up," I stuttered. "Or I told mom about it."

      "Or?" he laughed, and I immediately realized what a mistake that one word was. I grimaced.

     "Clara," he stopped me, before I could make a fool of myself. "Can you just accept my appreciation for your gift?"

     With a sigh, I nodded.

      Marching upstairs, I almost felt bad waking the others, as I'm sure mom had struggled to put them to bed, especially during the holidays. I chose to look at it as though I was doing her a favour. The later I kept them up, the later they would wake in the morning. And I'm pretty sure mom wouldn't be in good enough to shape for their usual 6am wake up.

     "I'll go get Bella." Isaiah left Andrews and I at the twins' door.

     "The twins' room?" Andrews noted, wide eyed.

     "Always." I turned the doorknob, bracing myself for the worst. "I'm pretty sure it's because Bella and Isaiah don't want them wrecking their rooms."

      The lights were off, but the twins weren't asleep. There was a large blanket covered lump on Tyler's bed. A faint glow of light shone through the thin Toy Story blanket. It was nice to see that they were using the gifts, but the room was a disaster. Using the Lego construction kit, building blocks and random household appliances, they had built a track for their toy cars. A track that took up the entire length of their bedroom. I'm not sure what they were currently working on, but they giggled and whispered to each other, still unaware of our presence.

     "What are you two doing?" I jumped, landing next to them with a heavy thump. In an abrupt motion, I removed the blanket. Tyson's pencil went flying and Tyler almost fell off the bed in shock. They were startled, but it didn't take them long to recover. They looked at me with wide eyes until smiles etched their only slightly dirty faces and they laughed hysterically at both of their reactions.

      "What's this?" I asked, picking up their forgotten notebook. They had been working on a very impressive for their age, map of the house.

      "Nothing important," Tyler brushed off, removing it from my hands before throwing it under the bed. Smart. He knew I wouldn't dare look down there.

     "Please do not damage the house any more than you already have," I begged. What could they possibly be planning that involved the entire house?

     "Speaking of damage," Andrews started, frowning into a blue bucket on the other side of the room. "I would dispose of this as quick as possible as it does not look human friendly." He walked away from said potentially hazardous material, arm covering his mouth and nose. There was a chorus of D! before the twins jumped out of bed, in their matching Spiderman pyjamas, and ambushed Andrews.

     They showed us their proudest creations, starting with the Gupakie, and ending with the newly built track. Standing on top of his bed, one leg on his nightstand, Tyson dropped a blue car onto the first ramp, starting on his bookshelf. Tyler pulled Andrews' arm, dragging him along the track, following the car until its end at the window, where he informed a bewildered looking Andrews that they had plans to increase its length by going through the window and into the yard. I barely had time to laugh at his bewilderment, for Tyson was pulling on my arm.

     "Look!" he said, pulling a box from under his bed, excitedly shoving it way. "Santa got us the ultimate pranking kit!"

     "Wow!" I feigned surprise, acting as though it was the first time, I had seen it. "You won't use it on me, will you?"

      "Can't make any promises."

     "Excuse me?" I protested, hitting him with a pillow. Santa was going to regret getting that one.

     "That's too bad," I said. "Because I just happened to bring gifts that would go perfectly with the kit."

      His face immediately dropped, mind spinning with predictions. I mean they had only talked about the pranking set, a three-piece set, for an entire year.

      "I was kidding," he said instantly, showing his hands to prove that his fingers weren't crossed. "Of course, we won't use it on you... pinky promise?"

      A pinky promise? He must really mean it. I smiled, wrapping my finger around his small one.

      "D isn't off limits, right?" he whispered.

      "Right," I laughed. "You can use it on him, in fact I would strongly encourage it."

      He grinned mischievously in Andrews' directions, who genuinely looked worried, before eagerly looking past my body and at my bag near the door. Giving Andrews the same mischievous look my brother had, I proceeded to increase the twins' excitement by handing them their gifts.

      Bella and Isaiah joined us shortly after, and after receiving her own present Bella handed Andrews and I some handmade Christmas cards from the four of them.

      We stayed a little over two hours, only deciding to leave when it was clear that Andrews' paranoia was getting the better of him, jumping at every little sound.

      "If you need help in the morning, please call me," I told Isaiah, who had decided to walk us out. "Even if it's just to drop off breakfast."

      "Mom made pancakes before leaving, we should be alright."

      So, she didn't expect to be in a great shape when they woke. At least she had put thought into feeding them.

     "She's getting worse." I stated the obvious.

     Isaiah shrugged as though he didn't care, but the flicker in his hazel eyes told a different story.

      "She's definitely acting stranger," he said. "She made us all sit with her, for two hours, on boxing day, just so she could catch up on the News. I've never seen her so quiet, eyes almost popping out of her head when—" his words faded upon noticing my swelling panic. Assuming he had in fact figured the Terpilih thing out and assuming he was about to refer to it, I did not want him to finish that sentence, my face seemed to say as much. Isaiah understood, I thanked all almighty forces that he hadn't inherited my father's intelligence and prayed Andrews hadn't noticed our odd exchange. Though I was certain that he was already frowning at my back.

      "When the whole fighting in public thing was mentioned," he finished instead, a little uncertainly. I didn't dare throw a look back at Andrews, I continued walking down the stairs as though everything was normal, beginning to understand the extent of the mistake of giving my mother that small push.

      "Please talk to her," I asked Isaiah, reaching the last step. "I'm sure you could—" I stopped mid-sentence as my blue eyes met Mr. Welf's old black ones.

      "Clara?" he asked, rubbing his tired eyes.

      I jumped back behind the wall, Isaiah replacing my previous position.

      "No, I'm Isaiah," he corrected, walking towards the old man. "You'd think you'd know that by now. You only see me practically every day of the week." Casually he took a mug from the cabinet next to the confused man. "I know Clara's my sister, and sure we may look alike, but really?" Feigning disappointment he made himself a tea, logically placing himself in a manner that forced Mr. Welf to have his back to our exit if he looked at the young boy.

      "Sorry, I'm still half asleep," he apologized, tone changing when he seemed to realize that he was the adult in the situation. "What are you doing up at this time?"

     "Couldn't sleep. Figured a tea might help." Isaiah shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. "Would you like a cup?"

      While the man was distracted, I tugged Andrews, who had been giving me his best death glare, towards the back door. Doing our best to be quiet, we crawled across the kitchen.

      "I was actually about to make myself one," Welf said, turning to reach for the mug he had already taken out. Turning in our direction, Andrews and I froze. Shit. He'd certainly catch us and— Isaiah released an ear-piercing screech, startling us all. Welf turned back Isaiah's way, watching him wail as he frantically swung his arms above his head. Preoccupied, as he grimaced and slammed his wrinkly hands over his ears, Andrews and I continued our dash towards the exit.

      "What is wrong with you?" Welf demanded.

      "I never add the right amount of peppermint!"

      "I'll do it for you!" Welf shouted over him, pushing Isaiah aside. "Just no more screaming."

       "Ok," I barely heard Isaiah say before he took a seat on the island, smiling at me through the back window.

       Though Andrews and I laughed breathlessly all the way to the next block, I didn't envision Andrews wanting to tag along for another visit any time soon.