Having been ordered to sit on the couch, Jordan's gaze was fastened on his muddy shoes. He wouldn't dare look at his mom, who had been appointed to guard their unruly son while his dad talked to the police, who had knocked on their door shortly after Jordan's perilous escape through the fence. Perhaps they had seen him run away and were there to apprehend him. Jordan could only wait silently to receive his verdict, while muted voices conversed in the doorway.

It appeared neither of his parents were quite sure how to discipline their adult-ish child, who should already have a fairly well-developed frontal lobe to help him make good choices. Unfortunately, Jordan's desperate desire to find Araminta had short-circuited any logical decision charts.

A thump made Jordan momentarily look up from the floor. Kiki had jumped onto the couch and was using her paws to create a cozy sleeping spot in the corner. The tense situation didn't seem to rattle the cat even a little. It was finally—after trekking through the woods and surveilling a burglary gone wrong—kitty naptime and nothing could get in the way of that.

After an eternity of looking at his shoes, the door closed and Jordan's dad walked back into the room.

"What did they want, James?" Jordan's mom asked his dad.

"They said there were some signs of someone escaping from the house toward our yard," Jordan's father explained. "So they wanted to know if we had seen anything."

Jordan looked up briefly, still not meeting either parent's gaze. "What did you tell them?" he mumbled, feeling like he was five years old again and being scolded for deconstructing his bicycle in an attempt to figure out how it worked. Even after his dad had put it back together, one of the back wheels of that bike had always wobbled a little.

James sighed deeply, really letting his disappointment in his offspring resonate. "I said we hadn't seen anything," he replied. "Regardless of your reasons for being there, I don't want you in trouble with the police if I can help it."

Cautiously, Jordan let his gaze wander from the floor and toward his dad, giving him a nod of gratitude before his mom's death stare made him look away again.

"We can still call them though," his mom informed him coldly. "It's time to come clean and tell us everything, Jordan. Then we'll decide what to do with you."

"Bridget is right," his dad agreed, forming a united parental front. "The police are only a phone call away."

This could be a bluff to coax out the truth but Jordan didn't want to take any chances. Knowing he had no other option than to spill the beans, Jordan nodded. "You know my podcast," he started in a meek voice. "It's about her. Araminta. The girl who disappeared."

From there, the words flowed easily. He told them about how Araminta's unknown fate wouldn't leave his mind and how he went about his search, although he did keep out some of the more witchy details. Eventually, he revealed how he'd ended up breaking into her house, desperate to find a final clue to her whereabouts.

Once he was done, Jordan looked up at his parents. Their expressions were softer now although a stern edge remained.

"I knew you were up to something." James shook his head in exasperation. "Why did you think you could do a better job than the police?"

"Because I cared," Jordan mumbled. "And no one else seemed to anymore. Everyone moved on and she was still missing. I needed to do something."

"You should have told us," Bridget said, shaking her head. "You should have told us what the podcast was about and how much the poor girl's disappearance affected you. Of course, we noticed that it was hard on you at the time, with you having seen her that morning and all that, but we figured going away for college would provide you some well-needed distance. I guess we were wrong."

Perhaps Jordan should have told them but he wouldn't have known what to even say. The podcast was the only way to truly make his voice heard while distancing himself from the audience. "Yeah, I probably should have," he squeezed out while pressing his left hand around his aching right wrist. It was pulsating in a way that made thinking increasingly difficult.

"Is there anything else you haven't told us?" his dad asked in a tired voice. "While we're at it, I mean. Or is it just the podcast and subsequent burglary?"

"Well, I also kissed Derek..." Jordan mumbled, looking down at his shoes. "That's my friend who has been helping me with the podcast. So I guess I'm gay or bi or something like that." This wasn't the time nor the place for such a reveal but Jordan kind of just wanted to get it out of the way. Compared to his other offense, coming out may not even warrant more than a shoulder shrug from his parents. Although he was deep down hoping it may distract them from his turn into delinquency.

Bridget tousled her hand through Jordan's dirt-streaked hair. "We can talk about all that later if you want," she said. When Jordan looked up to meet her gaze, there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Although I hope you already know it's not an issue for us, seeing that you were a flower boy when your uncle Greg married Mike. But thank you for telling us."

Jordan did have fond memories of that wedding. He'd only been five years old at the time but the event had made an expression and still stuck in his mind. He'd meticulously thrown flowers on the aisle, eaten way too much cake, and danced his heart out together with the happy grooms. So when Jordan started to suspect he was queer a couple of years ago, his family's reactions had never really been a worry. But on account of his lack of prospective partners, the topic hadn't come up before. He wasn't the type to have a big extravagant coming-out party.

"Yeah, you won't be punished for kissing in this house," his dad agreed, a smile briefly lighting up his lips before turning back into a serious frown. "But committing burglary is no joke. Considering that you're an adult, it's not like we can ground you. I want you to know that if something like this happens again, we won't cover for you."

"It won't happen again." Jordan grimaced through the pain in his arm when he lifted it like he was swearing an oath in court."I promise."

Hurried steps down the stairs interrupted his anguish. A tween clad in a rainbow-colored unicorn pajama, complete with a horn and mane, appeared in the living room. "What is going on?" Darcy asked, quenching a yawn. "I heard raised voices." She looked toward her downtrodden brother. "Are you in trouble, Jordan?" There was a glint of excitement in her eyes at the prospect. In a multi-kid household, another sibling being in trouble was always a highlight.

"Just go back to bed, Darcy," Jordan mumbled.

Darcy did not obey his wish. Instead, she slumped down on the couch next to Jordan, giving the snoring Kiki a few affectionate pats. "What did you do?" she asked.

Jordan sighed, surmising that the truth would be revealed sooner or later anyway. "I... broke into the neighbor's house," he revealed. "The police almost caught me."

"What?" Darcy exclaimed, making an excellent imitation of a shocked Pikachu face.

"I also kissed a boy," Jordan added, figuring he should come out to as many family members right away to get it over with.

"Well, you're not in trouble for that," his mom protested. "We're pro-kissing but against committing petty crimes in this family."

"Was he cute?" Darcy asked, bouncing on the couch pillow next to Jordan. "Did he look like a K-pop star?"

"He is very cute," Jordan assured his sister. "Although I probably blew it with him anyway..." From underneath the shame of his crime, the uncertainty of the state of his relationship with Derek seeped through. Jordan has messed up so many things in so little time.

Their parents whispered to each other briefly, probably trying to decide what to do with their rebel child, while Darcy blathered about K-pop, unicorns, and for some reason, interstellar space travel. The vastness of the universe was a newfound interest of hers and once she'd begun talking she wouldn't stop.

"Alright, it's time to go to bed," Jordan's mom finally announced. "And I mean both of you. It's too late and we're all too frazzled to make any decisions right now. But you're not going anywhere tomorrow until we've talked, Jordan."

Jordan nodded, grateful to get some respite. After everything that had happened that day, his mind was exhausted. Although he wasn't sure his body would allow him to rest, considering that he was bruised and aching everywhere. His wrist seemed to have taken the worst hit and pain was now radiating up to his elbow. The slightest move made his whole body shiver.

Hopefully, it would be better by tomorrow. Hopefully, everything would be better by then.