ACT III ▬▬▬▬ aunt jess

Hailey sat almost completely still, barely blinking, while Sue carefully picked the splinters out of her hands and wiped away the blood. Her skin was raw, the wounds fresh, but she didn't make a sound. Just stared at nothing. Sue didn't ask questions, didn't push. Billy had called her, speaking in that quiet, cryptic way of his, and the second she heard the urgency in his voice, she was out of bed and heading over.

At first, she thought maybe she was dreaming, or that her eyes were playing tricks on her—but no. Hailey was really there. Alive. Breathing. Without a word, Sue dropped down and pulled her into a tight hug, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Hailey relaxed. Just a little. Let herself be held. Let the warmth sink in.

Then the creak of a door cut through the quiet, and Jacob came stumbling out, groggy and grumbling something about patrol. He rubbed his eyes and yawned—then stopped cold. His nose twitched, and his whole body tensed. That scent. He knew it like a scar he couldn't forget. His head jerked toward the living room, and in a blur, his eyes landed on her.

Hailey.

He didn't move at first. Just stood there, stunned. His eyes started to water as he listened hard, trying to convince himself he wasn't losing it. But he heard it—the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, soft but real. His chest rose as relief flooded him like a wave.

"Hailey," he breathed.

He took a slow step forward, then another, like she might disappear if he got too close too fast. Her eyes flicked to his, sharp and sudden.

"Hey, Jake," she said, and there was almost a smile there.

Jacob blinked, trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Then he turned to Billy, his voice tight and confused. "How?"

Billy shook his head, his expression unreadable. "I don't know."

Jacob raked a hand through his messy hair and headed straight for the old phone on the counter. "I need to call Paul."

Sue stepped in, putting a hand on his arm, gentle but firm. "Jacob, not tonight. She needs rest. The others can find out tomorrow."

He shook his head, already reaching. "But she's Paul's imprint."

Billy let out a heavy sigh. "We know, son. But none of this makes sense yet. We don't know how she's here."

Jacob's voice dropped, sharp and low. "And what if she goes to sleep and doesn't wake up again?"

Billy's face tightened, eyes clouding with emotion. "Then at least Paul won't lose her twice."

The words hit hard, and for a second, the room just went still. No one knew what to say after that. Billy finally gave a quiet nod toward Rachel's old room.

Sue took the hint. She walked over to Hailey and helped her up slowly, guiding her down the hall. Hailey didn't resist, but there was a look in her eyes—like she wasn't sure if this was real or some dream she'd wake up from

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Jessica arrived early that morning, the sky still a soft, bruised blue with the first hints of dawn just starting to spread across the horizon. She didn't knock—she never did. Instead, she let herself in like she had a hundred times before, moving through the quiet house with the kind of familiarity that didn't need permission. The scent of cedar and old books wrapped around her as she made her way to the kitchen. She put on a pot of coffee, knowing exactly where everything was without having to look. The kettle hissed, the drip of the machine steady, grounding.

Billy was already in the sitting room when she came in, settled into the worn armchair with his hands folded, brow creased with worry. She handed him a mug without a word, then sank into the couch across from him, curling her legs beneath her.

"Jessica," he started, his voice low and strained, "how is this possible?"

His hands were tight around the coffee cup, knuckles pale. He looked tired—more tired than usual. The kind of tired that went deeper than the body. His eyebrows were drawn together, his mind clearly trying to reach for answers that didn't exist.

Jessica sighed, her gaze fixed for a moment on the dark surface of her coffee before she set the mug down on the table in front of her. She leaned back into the couch with a quiet breath. "Hailey is the first caller this tribe has ever encountered," she said, her voice calm, almost reverent. "And with that, there are things we'll never fully understand, no matter how many books we read or visions we chase."

She paused, her eyes drifting toward the hallway, lingering on the door that remained closed.

"She's always been tied to the other side—to the dead—since birth. Her father's death... that was the breaking point. That's what unlocked the rest of it."

Billy studied her, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. There was fear behind his confusion, and it sat heavy in his chest.

"That pull... it's dangerous. She spent so much time brushing against death, walking its edge, she became part of it. I wasn't sure at first," she admitted, "but when the sickness started to take her in waves, when she'd slip away for seconds at a time—I had an idea. I just didn't want it to be true."

Billy gave a quiet hum in response but didn't argue.

"That still doesn't explain how she's back," Billy said after a beat, shaking his head like he was still trying to convince himself it wasn't some twisted dream. "She was buried, Jessica. In a grave. For five months. We put her in the ground. And now, aside from a few cuts and bruises, she looks healthier than she has in years. Not since her father died. It doesn't make sense."

His voice, once always steady and sure, now sounded hollow and disoriented, like a man realizing he'd spent his whole life trying to understand the rules of a game that just changed without warning.

Jessica smiled faintly, knowingly, as if she'd been expecting this moment. "She who calls the dead shall never stay dead for long," she said softly, her words carrying the weight of old truths passed down in whispers. "She was guided during those months—watched, protected, shaped. But for her? To Hailey, it's been minutes. Maybe less."

Billy exhaled sharply, setting his mug down with a quiet clink. His jaw flexed, a tic in his temple twitching. "She's just a child."

Jessica nodded slowly, meeting his gaze. "Yes," she said gently, "but so is the pack. They were all children when this started—thrown into something much bigger than themselves. We all have duties, Billy. Hailey's are just... different. And the hardest part? No one's ever been around to tell her what those duties are."

Billy looked away, his mouth pressing into a thin line. There was a long silence between them, broken only by the hum of the fridge and the ticking of the old clock on the wall.

"How are we supposed to explain this to the boys?" Billy said, his voice tight with concern as he stared at the floor like the answer might rise up from the grain of the wood. "Jacob walked in last night, and I've never seen him like that. He was pale—shaking. Could barely speak. He saw his cousin, who he helped bury with his own two hands, sitting on the couch like she'd just come over to visit. Alive. Breathing." He ran a hand over his face, rubbing at the exhaustion clinging to him. "How are the rest of them going to react to that? How do you even begin to tell them something like this?"

Jessica exhaled through her nose, folding her arms as she leaned back against the wall. "I can't answer that," she said honestly. "There's no easy way to do it. But we tell them what we know, and we explain the best we can. We give them the truth—what little of it we have—and we let them feel what they need to feel."

Billy nodded slowly, though the knot in his chest didn't loosen. "They've already been through so much," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "And now this? How do I look them in the eye and say, 'Hailey was dead and now, she's back —different, but back.'"

Jessica was quiet for a beat. "They're stronger than you think. They've lived through impossible things already. This... it's just another one."

Billy blew out a breath, resigned but still uneasy. He stood and crossed to the counter, picking up the old cordless phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. "I'll call Sam," he said finally, voice quiet but firm. "He needs to hear it from me first."

Jessica gave a small nod, her gaze steady. "He'll handle it better than most."

Billy didn't answer. He just stared at the phone a second longer, then pressed the button and raised it to his ear.