Tory and Ethan stayed behind, opting to stay with Ethan's grandmother. It was for the best, anyway. Lillian didn't think that her friend would appreciate a whole party showing up on her doorstep.

Polly offered her Jag for the trip and Lillian insisted on driving. I sat in the metaphorical backseat, zoning in and out of my own head as Lillian commanded my body. Detached from myself, it took a moment before I realized that the surroundings were beginning to look familiar.

I knew this street, these houses, this neighbourhood.

I shot a look at Polly. She had gone quiet, but her expression told me she remembered this place, too.

We had been here, once, many months ago, back when we were first looking for a way to stop the Beast. Our search had led us to a little house, deep in the suburbs, where we finally found some help...

It couldn't be...

Is Lillian's friend the same person who helped us?

Lillian was too focussed on driving to notice my thoughts. It was weird to be split like this, to be present in my head but not in my hands. She was focused on the winding streets that led us deeper into the run-down neighbourhood. It had been too long for me to remember the exact directions that led us to our one-time savior, so I didn't know if we were going in the same direction... But it felt the same.

Before I had a chance to ask, it appeared—the shabby little house, near the end of the street. Like before, it seemed to shine out for me, like a beacon.

Lillian finally felt my recognition. "You know this place?"

"We've been here," I explained. "Polly and I, when we were first fighting off the Beast—the Malix, I mean. We ended up here, looking for help.

"Yeah, the woman who lived there wasn't too pleased to see us," Polly added. "She was the only one who knew there was something wrong..."

Lillian smirked with my lips. "Of course she did."

"So, she's your friend?" Polly asked.

Lillian's smile flattened out, pressing my lips together as she pulled Polly's car into a gap on the side of the street, a few doors up. "Sort of. We used to be friendly when we were with The Gathered."

Polly went stiff, freezing halfway through unbuckling her seat belt. "She's one of them?" she cried.

Lillian shook my head. "Not anymore."

Polly narrowed her eyes at us. "Did she get kicked out, too? What did she do?"

"I don't know the details. I was already dead by then," Lillian said, slipping out of our seat belt. She popped open the driver's door and we climbed out.

Polly scrambled out after us. "Wait a second. Are you sure she's even going to want to help us?" she asked, speed-walking to catch up, as Lillian was already striding down the sidewalk. "Last time she slammed the door in our face."

Lillian didn't say anything but I felt as she pressed my lips into a line again. She wasn't sure, then.

"Maybe we should've called?" I suggested.

"No," Lillian said, her pace picking up. She was a really fast walker. It felt weird to have my short legs take these long strides. "We need the element of surprise."

We were approaching the house now. If anyone were looking out one of the narrow windows, they'd see us coming.

"Wait—" I said, trying to stop her.

But Lillian wasn't stopping. She veered off the sidewalk, too much in a hurry that she didn't even bother using the stone walkway that led to the porch and front door, instead cutting across the neatly cut grass. She practically leapt up the porch steps and was already knocking on the door by the time Polly caught up.

"What the hell was that?" Polly asked, slightly panting.

"She'll be able to feel me coming. I couldn't wait," Lillian replied, not even turning to look at her sister.

We waited for an answer, but as the seconds turned to minutes, we realized an answer probably wasn't coming.

"Did she...?" I began.

"Shh," Lillian hissed back.

We all listened, straining our ears to see if we could detect sounds of movement from inside the house. Nothing.

Lillian sighed and began to pound on the door.

"Hey!" Polly said. "Chill out! Maybe nobody's home!"

"No," Lillian said. "There's people in there. I can feel them."

"Then they don't want to talk to us," Polly growled, low and fierce. "Cool it, will you? What if someone calls the cops?"

Lillian ignored her and kept pounding at the door.

After a few more moments, somewhere in the house, I heard someone call out. Lillian had been right. But getting her answer didn't stop Lillian. In fact, she began to pound harder, increasing her pace.

Careful, I reminded her. That's my hand! I'd like to keep it in one piece.

She ignored me, too.

The voices got louder and closer but it was hard to hear them over Lillian's incessant pounding. But the second we heard the sound of locks turning, Lillian ceased her assault on the poor door. The door creaked open, only a few inches. The chain was firmly in place, hanging across the gap. Just above, the face of a girl appeared, her features bent into a scowl.

"What the fuck do you want?" she snapped, her dark eyes flashing over each of us. But when her gaze landed on me, her glare faded. Her eyes pulled wide and her mouth dropped open.

It reminded me of the first time I had come to the house, when the woman who had greeted us took one look at me and saw the curse I carried. Only, this wasn't the same woman—this girl was much younger, despite creases in her forehead left from her deep frown.

"R-Rachel?" she gasped.

I blinked in surprise. She knew me? Had the older woman warned her about me? But the woman hadn't known my name...

You know this person? Lillian thought at me, stunned. It seemed this was not who she was expecting to see, either. Who is she?

"I-I don't..." I sputtered. Then it hit me. With only a sliver of her face visible, it took me a moment before I realized I recognized the girl, too. "A-Anne?"

Anne. My surly co-worker from the thrift store, who warned me about the scar on my arm. I hadn't seen her since... A bloody memory flashed through my head—her arm pulled through the glass countertop in a freak accident.

Through the gap, I could see the bandages wrapped around her arm. Her gaze fell into a glare again. "What are you doing here, Rachel?"

"Wait," Polly interjected, pointing at the scowling face peering out from the door. "This is that punk-kid from the thrift store?"

"I'm not a kid!" Anne shot back, scanning over Polly with her signature acid look. Even the usually immovable Polly winced back from it. "And I'll ask again—what the fuck are you doing here?"

Lillian took over my mouth before I had a chance. "We're looking for—"

She didn't get to finish. Footsteps thundered through the house and someone cried out, "Close the door!"

Anne turned just as a woman came out of nowhere, crashing into her and shoving her out of the way. The woman then tried to slam the door, but I whipped my hand out and caught it before she could—or rather, Lillian had.

The new face in the gap snarled with frustration. I recognized her, too. It was the blue-cloaked guard I had seen in Lillian's memory, the one who had been positioned outside her hospital room door.

She gazed back at me with similar recognition, though we had never met. She must've been able to see Lillian there, beneath the surface.

"You can see me," Lillian confirmed, speaking through me as she stared her down.

The woman stared back through the narrow space in the door. "Of course. Why do you think I'm trying to keep you out?" she shot back, still trying to close the door.

To my surprise, my mouth opened into a smile and a sharp laugh shook through me. Lillian was laughing. "Just the same as always, Sofia."

The woman—Sofia—ground her teeth together, and looked back over her shoulder. "Anne, help me!"

Anne appeared again, bracing herself against the other side of the door. They began to push as hard as they could, trying to close those last few inches, but my arm didn't budge with Lillian's power behind it.

"Leave!" Sofia shouted, straining against the door.

Lillian sighed. "I can't do that. Do you think I'd be here if I had any other choice?"

"You have another choice," Sofia snapped. "Fuck off!"

Lillian's temper—the same as her sister's—flared red hot. A unfamiliar power surged through me and Lillian swung my arm wide, snapping the lock chain and flinging the door wide open. It slammed into the wall behind it with such force that it left a sizable dent in the plaster. Anne and Sofia were thrown backwards, landing hard on top of each other in their cramped little foyer.

"What in God's good graces—?" Yet another person had joined the fray, descending the narrow stairs that led off the foyer.

Finally, the person I had been expecting to greet us at the door was here: the one who had helped us all those months ago. She looked mostly the same, her greying hair pulled into a simple bun. Only her eyes were different. Before they had been warm, worrying. Now their heat came from anger.

"How dare you force your way into my home!" she cried, rushing down the last few steps as she spotted us. "Leave my family alone!" She swung her arm through the air. I was pushed back, stumbling backwards and rolling down the porch steps, sharp pains following each step. Polly, however, stayed rooted where she was.

The woman stared at Polly, stunned. "You..."

Then her gaze slid to me, still lying on the ground. Her eyes refocused, softening. "You! You two," she looked between Polly and I. "You've been here before."

Behind her, Sofia climbed to her feet, helping Anne along with her. "Don't let them in," she croaked, limping over to the door again.

The older woman didn't turn away from me, instead raising her hand to silence Sofia.

Sofia abided, but with a scowl. I realized how much it made her look like Anne, who was glaring beside her. The older woman had called them 'family' before she had thrown us....

The older woman's eyes seemed to flutter as she studied me. "And that stain is still with you." Her gaze slid to my scarred arm. "It's gotten worse, in fact."

"Which is why we shouldn't let them in," Sofia grumbled "You don't need their mark on your home, do you?"

The older woman pursed her lips. That had been her original reason for shooing us away the first time. Would she do it again?

"Not only that," Anne added, narrowing her eyes at me. "But she's dragging something else along with her."

"Someone," Sofia corrected.

The older woman nodded. "Good eye, Anne."

Sofia rolled her eyes. "This isn't a teaching moment, ma. The spirit inside her is nothing but trouble. The Gathered are already watching us—"

The older woman gave her a long look. They held each other's gaze for a moment, a silent conversation, before they broke apart. Sofia turned to frown at the open door; the older woman turned back to look at me.

"Let them in," she said, stepping back into the house.

🔮

So Sofia knows both Anne and the mysterious woman who helped them?
And what does she mean, the Gathered are watching them?

Do you think Rachel can trust them?

🔮

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