With iridescent grey eyes and dark hair that hung woven in an exquisite braid over her breast, she was the most beautiful woman Amy had ever seen. A flick of her wrist had forced everyone's unconditional surrender; Amy's knees ached from the brute impact.

No matter how much she willed it, her limbs would not obey her. Watching Caleb's horrified, slack-jawed expression poisoned Amy's blood with mortal fear unlike any other.

"... Dae... na," muttered V. Or Virgil, as the young woman had referred to the blond man. "Daena... you..." Every word, every twitch of muscle seemed like an eternal anguish for Virgil. If he just hadn't tried to murder Caleb, Amy would've felt something akin to pity for him.

With superlative effort, Virgil finally managed to get on one knee.

Daena's voice was heavy, offset with an air of regality. "No need for courtly salutations, old chum. This is an informal meeting."

V spat at her feet. "You... were c-cast out. You deserve... nothing."

Daena's fist clenched and Virgil's back contorted in an impossible arc; he screamed in agony. The woman stated, "A suspension that still places me well above your station, lieutenant."

Surely her eyes were deceiving her, Amy wondered. No words expressing her perplexity came forth. Even if they did, Amy'd be snuffed by this entity before she could ever hope to hear an explanation.

V gnashed his teeth. "This is my assignment."

"And I see what a remarkable job you've done. Letting a mortal get mixed up in our affairs."

Crackling, savage laughter spewed from V's lips. Each passing second seemed to bring his power back, ounce by ounce. "You failed to stop that Seager boy from resurrecting his paramour. ... I will not... hear criticism – from the likes of you."

Seager? Resurrection? Amy almost forgot to breathe hearing the chaos of conversation unfold before her. What does any of that have to do with Caleb?

Daena sighed. "Cold titanium is more malleable than you, Virgil." Extending her hand out of the folds of her ultramarine cloak, she said, "Dagger, please."

"No."

"Why must you always be so contrary?"

Deep shadows churned near Virgil's feet and his tawny Maine Coon took shape, lunging at Daena with its feral claws extended into sabers of purple fire.

Just as the feline neared terrifyingly close to the cloaked woman's face, a dark mass smacked it dead to the ground. The beast sank its teeth into the cat's delicate neck and ripped it clean off. Growling deeply, hackles raised, an enormous mastiff stared straight into Amy's soul. A ripple of terror washed over her skin and it broke out in a febrile sweat.

The stygian mastiff dropped the dismembered head from its jaws and it slowly dissolved in a tar-like, oily liquid by the beast's heavy paws. As it stalked them, Amy shook with fear. Henry had his eyes cemented shut.

Virgil bowed before Daena, his forehead flat against the vinyl floor. "They are getting close... to immortality. Closer... to us. The drug – we cannot allow it."

However hard she tried to connect Anaxan to immortality, Amy failed to establish anything remotely credible. Even neck deep in a calamitous crisis, her brain searched for answers, explanations, and reliable conclusions. When it failed beyond measure, Amy was left with only one thought: Virgil with his incomparable strength, and Daena with her unimaginable powers... they were not human.

What are they?

Daena's monster towered over Amy, saliva drooling from its mouth and into her hair. On its chest, just below an elaborate iron collar, was a patch of white fur shaped like a four-point star. The dog barked and Amy felt the soft tissue in her ears rip.

Sound flowed as if underwater now. Daena spoke in a deep, even tone but Amy only registered her words with a millisecond's delay. "... Finally, something sensible coming out of your mouth, lieutenant. What do you propose?"

"Let Henry Wigmore fulfill his destiny by slaying that errant soul."

Amy knew the panic in Caleb's eyes mirrored her own. Fighting a fog of disconcertment, she unglued her lips and exhausted all her energy into her protests. "No!"

Henry shook his head, silently urging her to stay quiet.

Amy knew exactly where Henry could shove his destiny. These bastards were deciding Caleb's fate and it would take more than a stupid mutt and its witchy mistress to subjugate her.

Daena observed Amy's labors with grudging delight. "No? I agree."

Virgil let out a dissenting cry.

"Quiet." Daena's eyes glowed and Virgil lay still, speechless. "Your solution is inelegant. It will only serve chaos and I cannot allow Selaena's bloodline to be sullied for your political gains."

Had Amy misjudged Daena? Was she really going to help them against Virgil? Against whatever supernatural forces awaited them next?

"Atossa," Daena called. The dog carefully unsheathed the topaz dagger from Virgil's belt and exercising great care, dropped it in the young woman's open palm. Daena scratched its ears. "Good girl."

Placing the tip of the silver dagger under Caleb's chin, Daena forced him to look at her. Unable to hold her gaze for longer than a few moments, Caleb jerked his head low.

Daena grabbed his cheeks with one hand, pulling his eyes to hers. "Tell me what you see, boy."

Caleb just stared at her.

"What... do... you... see...?" Daena whispered, drawing out each syllable seductively.

Caleb answered in a low, trembling voice, "Red eyes... blackened skin... fangs."

Daena let his face fall. "That's not even my worst. Well done."

Caleb, look at me, Amy pleaded in her head, no words developing on her tongue. Transitory hope had long abandoned Amy's heart. She had to reassure him that they would get out of there. But how?

When Caleb finally met her gaze, his cobalt eyes were fractured glass.

Daena followed Caleb's line of sight, caressing his soft hair. "It'll all be over soon. Better you behold the face of your beloved than mine."

Burning hot tears flowed down Amy's cheeks as she ultimately realized what Daena had planned all along. She screamed, the sound breaking the witch's spell. With each word, Amy fought off the hold she was under. "I'm begging you, please – you don't have to do this! There's been a mistake! LET HIM GO –"

Something resembling sympathy rolled over Daena's ethereal visage. "One day, you shall realize this was the most rational recourse."

"CALEB, RUN!"

"Are you sure there isn't any other way?" Henry asked.

Amy could scarcely believe how easily he spoke, unencumbered by the magic Daena had cast. For the first time, she thought this wasn't her friend, but a total stranger. Every time Henry had avoided her, provoked her friends against her... betrayed her – was a fresh laceration on Amy's broken heart. How did he know so much about these beings? Why was his life worth more than Caleb's?

Daena raised the topaz dagger high above her head. "No, my child."

With that, she plunged the weapon deep into Caleb's heart and the boy deliquesced into a dark vortex of smoke and flashes of crimson charge. The jewel in the dagger glowed gold and soon, even the specks of the dark light that were once Caleb Dawson, disappeared into oblivion.

No goodbyes, no see you laters. Like always.

After a dip in time that could've easily passed for an eternity, Amy began howling. "CALEB! CALEB!"

He wasn't gone, just trapped in that dagger, Amy thought. It was Caleb! He couldn't die like a normal person; Caleb was different. He would come back. There was no way Caleb would let Amy suffer with each passing minute, yelling herself hoarse. He cared about her too much; Caleb had to come back.

"CALEB! CALEB!"

If Amy didn't blink, she could still see the dark fragments of his essence on the floor. Her eyes stung as she thought of containers that she could use to collect his plasma form – once Amy had enough, maybe she could put him back together... It was science; there was always an explanation.

What do you think happened to me? Don't you have any crazy scientific explanations?

"I do! Caleb, I do! I'll have a million ready for you to listen – just please come back!" Amy didn't realize that her words meant nothing to those still present in the gym.

The spell over them had broken. Henry held Amy's arms behind her back, trying to calm her down. "He's gone, Amy! There's nothing you can do. He's g-gone!"

"SHUT UP! LET – ME – GO!"

Amy elbowed Henry in the stomach and punched his nose, breaking it for the second time with a gratifying crunch. Pain shot up her right hand but she didn't bother to look back at her old victim. Amy had other targets to take down.

Daena.

With a battle cry, Amy bridged the distance between them. Atossa crouched on her front limbs, teeth bared in a fearsome snarl – awaiting collision, shielding her mistress.

Virgil grabbed Amy's arm and pulled her back. "You are not meant to die tonight."

"LET – ME –"

He placed a hand on her forehead and the fight left her body, slowly leaking out like steam from a teapot. Amy's vision blurred and darkened; exhaustion claimed her bones. "Caleb..." mumbled Amy. "Caleb..."

The last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep was Daena's voice.

"Let it be known... if anyone ever comes near the Wigmore line, I will break them in two... . See to it that the girl is sent home safe... she has been through enough."

✧

Dead in midnight's wintery chill, Amy awoke to an eerily familiar sensation. Her bedroom window was open, making the space around her bed colder than a glacial tomb. But it was nights like these when she felt most alive now – when a biting burn trailed down her shivering, naked back, consoling her.

"Caleb?" Amy sat up and whipped around, her nightshirt falling back over her body. There was no one in the dimly lit room. Burying her puffy, tear-soaked eyes in the folds of the quilt, Amy let out a wail of anguish.

A moment later, Anne entered. "Peach... it's okay, Mama's here." She kissed her daughter's head and held her close, gently rocking her.

Amy was undergoing therapy for the inescapable trauma she had endured a few weeks ago. There was no progress as most questions posed went unanswered, and no questions ever emerged from her throat again. She was stuck in perdition, scrambling for scraps that proved Caleb had really existed in her life.

Amy knew there was no point in seeking help from any professional. Her injuries didn't belong to the natural realm. True to her word to Caleb though, Amy had refused to meet Dr. Abernathy.

After the sixth night of witnessing her child punish her body like this, Anne couldn't take it anymore. Her parents had tried every trick in the book to get Amy to function like a normal human – love, distraction, bribes, threats, punishment, bargaining, and disregard.

Anne whispered in a hurt voice, resorting to her default setting of tough love through dialogue. "You are setting a bad example to Leigh. This must stop, Amy. And clean your room, it'll take your mind off things. I've told you a million times..."

For a few hours, Amy did fall asleep in the mess of her own creation. Just before daybreak, she opened her dry eyes. The soft, orange glow from her bedside lamp looked like a dying sun in the pale blue of the morning light. Amy threw the sheets off her bed and surveyed her room.

Everything was in disarray; the concept of things belonging to a particular place in organized life was non-existent. Marie Kondo would have an embolism.

And so she began, loud music blasting in her ears, picking up object after object, folding, stowing, and discarding.

The cream-colored bra Caleb's fingers had skimmed over the night of their first fight. Looks like I'm stuck here with a liar.

Amy tore the yearbook pictures and My Little Pony stickers off the murder suspect board. She realized that Jude Presley wasn't even on it; a wave of nausea prompted Amy to rush to the bathroom.

You are the cutest maybe-murderer on here.

Amy returned to the discard basket, shoving the sheet she'd tried to put over Caleb's head in an attempt to make him visible. The lighter she used to see if fire affected him followed. Her spiral notebook that had fallen out of his hand because he couldn't touch anything, clearly belonged there... and so did the video recorder...

Soon enough as the afternoon sun rose, books returned to their shelves, clothes were folded in the closet, fresh sheets adorned the bed, and new curtains replaced the sheer ones Caleb liked to sit by in the window seat, watching them flutter with the breeze.

Her ebony ukulele was the last thing still on the floor, hiding in a corner between the wall and her side table.

May I request a song? Pretty please?

Amy left the instrument there.

Like a contented barmaid, Amy removed her headphones and inspected her handiwork. Then the tears began to fall.

Getting rid of all things Caleb Dawson had touched would've been easier, but what could Amy do with all the invisible traces he had left in her world? How do you scrub a mark that no one can see?

There was a knock at the door. Leigh sang, "There's a delivery at the door for you."

"You sign for it!" Amy said thickly.

"They said it has to be you!"

Amy huffed. Pulling a baggy, grey sweatshirt over herself, she stepped out of the room.

Leigh peeked inside. "I can't believe it. You cleaned! M-o-o-o-m! She cleaned!"

Through the frosted glass by the door, Amy recognized the person's petite frame.

Amy opened up and blinked out the blinding, bright sunshine from her eyes. "Gemma."

Ever since the 'incident', Amy had withdrawn so deep within herself that not even her best friend could wheedle her out. It hadn't been for lack of trying.

"Amy," she said. Gemma had chewed her lip bloody. "I need you."

Amy shuffled her feet. "Maybe some other time, Gem, I'm not in the mood to talk right now."

"No! You are the only one, Amy. I need my best friend back. I'm sorry for everything but I can't do this without you."

Beginning to worry, Amy said, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I just need you to come with me and talk to me. I don't want you to be all alone like this. It's killing me to see you like this."

"Look – I really can't. I got – I got some things to..." Amy knew she sounded lame but it didn't matter. She just needed to sleep again. Turning her back on Gemma, Amy grasped the doorknob.

It wouldn't budge. "Hello? Dad? I've been locked out!"

"No! You're not coming back inside till you've gone for a walk with Gemma," Leigh squeaked from inside.

"Leighton, this is not funny! Lemme in or I'm calling Mom." Amy shook the door, banging on the wood with her hand. "Mom!"

"I'm with your sister on this one, Peach," her mother called out.

"Seconded," her dad chimed.

"Ugh, I hate you all!" Amy kicked the door, leaning her head against it. Deep breaths.

"Just come, Amy. I promise that'll set things right," Gemma implored. "And don't think of climbing in from any of the windows. Leigh is very thorough."

Ambushed by the people she trusted most. Fitting, thought Amy.

It was a mark of how much Gemma wanted to cheer Amy up that she had the heating on full blast and the windows rolled shut in her Fiesta – against the well-established rules. She chattered about things that Amy once found interesting, and with appropriate grunts and approving noises, Amy made it through.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked, focusing on one dead tree before the next as they zoomed by faster than she could keep up.

Gemma didn't need to reply. The steely waters of Lake Trent came into view.

"Let's walk," Gemma said, unbuckling her seatbelt once they had parked. With her arm looped through Amy's, Gemma looked like she was trying to thaw out her best friend with warm love.

And halfway through their little stroll on the shingle shore, Amy did let go a little. They spoke about how far they'd come together, how difficult things were now, how easy they hoped things would be...

Amy hugged Gemma's waist.

Then she noticed a boy in a turquoise windcheater waiting for them in the distance.

"No, no, no, no!" Amy shook her head. "How could you?!"

"Amy, listen to me!" Gemma grasped Amy's hand. "You need to talk to him. You need answers. This silence isn't you."

"Don't tell me what I need!" Amy cried.

"Just hear him out. I know it's hard but you have to, Amy, please." Fat teardrops fell from her brown eyes. "For Caleb."

"Like you know what he'd want! He's gone and it's all Henry's fault!" Amy snapped.

"I know he wouldn't want you to keep suffering. I know he'd want you to move on."

"No, he wouldn't!" That was a lie. Caleb had asked her to but she had refused. Their only date had been ruined by one of her predictions that eventually did come to pass. One that Amy would give a thousand lifetimes to be wrong about.

Gemma pushed Amy's hair out of her face. "Yeah, he would."

Amy had been avoiding this confrontation. Bitter resentment and utter confusion were the only things that captured her sanity whenever she thought of the night Caleb was taken from her. And for the boy who was now staring at Amy as she walked toward him, boots crunching on the smooth pebbles... For him, Amy felt nothing.

Nothing but a rage so profound, it could rip a hole in the sky and set the oceans on fire.

Henry's face had healed considerably but his nose was still wrapped in soft gauze. "I owe you an apology," his voice was measured, practiced, "... and some answers."

✧

A/N: Henry owes us all an explanation. Do you think it'll be worth hearing? Could there be a way to undo events past? Tune in to the final chapter to find out.