Amy sat on one end of the chesterfield, her body folded in half, arms tied around her knees. It was as though she was trying to contain as much of herself as she could, before the impending tornado hit - one that could disperse her morality across the Appalachians.

Even several helpings of her mother's delectable chicken pot pie hadn't quite quelled the turmoil inside Amy. Her hair had doubled in volume; mostly due to her nervous fingers foraging for peaceful thoughts in the russet strands.

"Soon your hands are going to be filled with clumps of your beautiful hair," Anne chided, muting Sophie's Choice on the television. "Sit. Let me braid it for you."

Amy focused on her mom as though she was seeing her for the first time. Dropping to the hardwood floor, she willed her thoughts away from Caleb Dawson.

But it was impossible.

The wait was worsening by the second. Caleb had run off after their encounter with Dr. Abernathy, not even bothering with explanations or excuses. No goodbyes, no see you laters. The whole affair was starting to remind Amy of her first night with Caleb.

How naively she had promised to help him find his body. Not even thinking about her or her family's safety, jumping to help a ghost. Emotionally driven decisions were so unlike her! Amy blamed the bloodbath that was her uterus that week.

"Leigh loved your little play date," Anne said. Her deft fingers were soothing as they wove Amy's hair into a Dutch plait. "What about you?"

Amy chose to deflect. "We met Dr. Abernathy in the park. I told her that I'd attend the next session with y'all."

"Honey, that's wonderful!"

With a modulated voice, Amy said, "Was it bad of me not to go before?"

"These things take their own time. You decide when you are ready."

When Anne was done, Amy twisted around and rested her chin on her mother's knee. "Dr. Abernathy - and I don't know if I'm the one reading into this - she, uh, kind of implied that I was responsible for what happened," she muttered. "For what Leigh did."

Her mother's fierce eyes shone as she ran her palms over Amy's face. "Don't you think that for a second! Not one, do you hear me?"

Amy nodded, bewildered at this reaction she had definitely not anticipated.

"I need to have a word with Agatha," her mother's voice was punctuated with anger. "Your father and I told her to never bring that up in front of you."

"You did?"

"Of course! Anyone would know that's just plain stupid."

"You don't think I'm a terrible sister?"

"No more than I am a terrible mother and your dad a terrible father," said Anne. "Growing up is hard. For your sister, it's a little bit harder. We face these things as a family."

Amy buried her face in the folds of her mother's mohair sweater. The scent of gooseberries and home finally did the trick. A yearlong skirmish with insurmountable guilt had ended, and it was all because Amy had trusted the blue-eyed boy who was haunting her. "Thank you."

"We have too much love in this house to make room for blame." Her mother held her close. "I should've come to you sooner."

In a thick, mousy whisper, Amy said, "I thought you'd hate me."

"I could never hate you, sweetie. Even if you rob a bank or punch a hundred boys," said Anne, with a humorous cough accompanying her misty eyes. "I'll lovingly ground you for life."

Amy laughed.

Coddled in motherly care, her heart was lighter and willing enough to compromise. There was no way Caleb was hurting anyone intentionally. The fear that he brought forth in people around him was nothing against the love that Amy had. She would be the shield that safeguarded his spirit, keeping the unknown malevolence at bay.

The movie reached its climax just as her father trotted down the stairs, having put Leigh to bed. Christopher used some colorful language for the therapist that he just couldn't force down, when given the full account of Dr. Abernathy's misconduct.

"Chris, I'm waving off the swear jar for tonight," sighed Anne, and turned to Amy. She pushed her glasses up her nose, all business-like. "Are you sure there isn't anything else you'd like to share with us, honey?"

I'm kinda seeing a ghost, Amy thought. He may be killing me softly.

She knew better than to blurt now; the way Robin had reacted to the news had been tattooed inside the crevices of her brain. Just as she began shaking her head, Amy spotted Caleb's pale face out the living room window.

He was here.

Caleb waved at her from between the hydrangeas.

"Do you guys hear that?" Amy said, hopping to her feet and accidentally kicking her slippers under the couch. "It's coming from the door."

"I don't hear anything," her dad said, giving his wife a look underscored with brows knit.

Through the frosted glass beside the door, Amy could make out Caleb's attractive outline. "Maybe it's time for those hearing aids we discussed."

Caleb rested a steadying hand near the frame. Windswept locks enhanced the sharp shadows on his cheeks but his cobalt eyes were alight with a sense of accomplishment. "I found Jude Presley."

"The Peters' cat was scratching our doormat again," Amy cried. "She may or may not have left Dad a present."

"I'll deal with it tomorrow," Christopher sighed.

Caleb nodded at her parents, more out of polite practice than actual awareness. "He'll be at school tomorrow to drop off Cecile -"

"Ames, I've got an email from your school and the town council," her father said, scrolling through his iPad. "Emergency seminar for the junior class at noon. Burwell has organized a search and rescue for Caleb Dawson and Principal Staves wants students to volunteer."

"But it's Thanksgiving," said Anne.

"They tracked his phone to the last known area and it's just by the border with Lumpkin County," her father read. "... two-to-three-day community SAR, to be done in batches - Thanksgiving dinner supplied at Sirencester Town Hall, in solidarity with the former Sheriff Dawson's family."

Amy didn't need to look at the spectre to know he had already found this out. Whatever his thoughts, Caleb kept them from her jealously, hiding behind a perfectly impassive face.

Her mother's voice sounded miles away. "I don't know how I feel about Amy going after what Vance implied yesterday. What do you think, Chris?"

"I guess and, in any case, Amy didn't know the kid well..."

"No, I want to go! The whole class will be there. I can't be the only one sitting at home doing nothing. Besides," said Amy, glancing at Caleb, "I did know of him, and I'd like to help."

Amy's parents seemed touched by the concern she showed for her missing classmate.

"Come watch the rest of the movie with us," her mother called, and then added in a clerical voice. "The titular choice is near..."

Nearly there, a rogue thought slinked into Amy's mind. Just a touch.

"I have to study," she lied, from halfway up the stairs to her bedroom. Caleb was quiet behind her. "Night."

They were back in Amy's terminally messy room that bore Caleb's invisible mark on every misplaced possession - from her books on the floor and the 'missing' board beneath the bed to her bra on the table and the bedsheet bunched on one end.

"I thought you'd be happier," Amy began, making room on the bed for them. "You're finally getting your wish. And even better, the whole town is going to search for your body."

Caleb sat down, a small smirk dawning on his lips. "It's time for the second stage of our plan. You need to follow Cecile and Pete while I tail Jude. They know something, I'm sure of it."

"After the search, right?"

"Will you really do it?" Caleb asked. "You've managed to avoid it well so far."

"I went this morning!"

"It took me what, a week to get you to? It's more my achievement than yours."

Amy pounced at him with her pillow. While each blow missed by a longshot, it did air some of the tension out between them; a giddy tug-o-war that ended in victory when she won a sparkling smile from Caleb.

He fell off the bed and yielded, playing along. "Okay, okay, you win." Caleb's eye caught a small object wedged between the wall and Amy's bedside table. "You still play?"

Amy grabbed the ebony ukulele and plucked a few strings absentmindedly. "It's not that hard."

"May I request a song?"

"No way in hell."

"Pretty please?" Caleb knelt beside her bed with his hands joined in prayer.

"Not even if you beg," said Amy, tossing her braid over one shoulder. "I know what you want to hear."

Caleb got up. Turning around, he threw a shapely leg over the window ledge, and began climbing out. "I can't do this anymore, Amy Irvine. You never listen to what I want; I unsubscribe from this one-sided -"

"Jesus, you're so dramatic!" Amy wanted to pull him from the brink of madness, but obviously, she couldn't. So when she began singing - quietly, to not wake Leigh up - Amy realized that both the instrument and her voice were a little out of tune from disuse.

"You can dance,

You can jive -"

"Uh-uh-uh, sing your version," Caleb interrupted.

"Do I really have to?"

Caleb nodded, kicking his legs in the air, looking like a little kid on Christmas morning.

Amy tweaked the tuners and cleared her throat.

"You can dance,

You can die,

Having the time of your life."

Caleb was roaring with laughter; like he suddenly found the very concept of dying uniquely amusing. Amy wondered if the wind could knock him down a peg or two, but continued -

"Ooh, see that girl

Watch that scene

Kicking the dancing queen."

Caleb flopped back down on his stomach, and stretched fully; still guffawing, he rested his head in his hands, and looked at her adoringly. "That was amazing. You should consider a career in showbiz."

Amy laughed with him. It was now or never. She knew she had to ask him - for Leigh. Then why was it so difficult? Was she afraid of losing him? This was the happiest Amy could've made him. Isn't that what you were supposed to do before delivering bad news?

The lamb was ready for slaughter.

"Caleb, I need to talk to you," said Amy.

"That's never a good thing." A coltish yawn escaped his mouth.

I have to do this.

Amy spoke, "Were you ever with Natasha... as a spectre?"

Caleb scowled. "In the beginning, yes."

No.

"I think - I think whatever you are, it's hurting people," said Amy, feebly croaking the words out. "People near you. The more time you spend with them, the worse they get."

Caleb's eyes darkened. Then he surprised her by saying, "I think you're right."

"What?"

"I noticed it first with Ma," he explained. "The way she's been behaving - it's so much worse than anything before. Wasn't even this bad when my dad left. Then Emma started acting more impulsive than ever. ... One night Natasha almost took too many of her pills. And then there was -"

"Me."

"You almost collided with a semi," Caleb finished. "You told me you had never done anything so reckless before."

"So you knew?" Amy asked. A faint accusatory ring seeped into her voice.

"I had a hunch."

"You knew and you didn't say anything."

Caleb withdrew. "What was I supposed to say? It's just a theory."

"Were you ever going to?"

His silence was a spear that went through her back.

Finally, Caleb spoke, "I didn't know how you'd react if I brought it up. What if you refused to help me? You're my only hope."

This revelation was the spark that kindled Amy's anger. "Is that all I am to you? Just a girl to manipulate into getting your body back? Fuck if it kills me in the process, huh?"

"Now who's being dramatic," Caleb murmured. "Of course, you mean more to me than that!"

The blinding white of the truck and the phones from the rooftop were magnesium flames in her memory. All thoughts of conciliation were shutting down. "I could've died! All of us are suffering horribly because of you and that's all you have to say to me?"

"Stop, you've got this all wrong -"

"At least you could've stayed away from Natasha," Amy breathed. "If you knew, why keep going to -"

"I didn't! I stopped." When he spoke again, he was pleading. "This is all conjecture, it cannot be true -"

"I can't believe I thought for a second that you could ever think of anyone but yourself!"

Caleb flinched. Closing his eyes, he straightened himself. When he finally looked at her, he shook with a fury defiant. "Is this a pathetic excuse to not help me anymore? You wasted all of my time with your fucking experiments and now that we're this close to solving it all, you want to back down?"

Amy knew he would lash out, but she didn't think her heart would bleed so profusely when he did. "Why didn't you step away when Natasha was going to jump? If you knew she was so close to death, why didn't you leave right away? Why did you go to her room -"

"BECAUSE - I thought that if she died, I wouldn't be so fucking lonely anymore!" Caleb yelled, his broken confession was a noose around his neck. "That maybe - she'd end up like me."

✧

A/N: So the bomb did go off. Amy spent so much time thinking about how she would calm Caleb down that she forgot about herself. Have you ever been in a crisis of wills like this?

When anger took over and things were said that you wish you could take back?