||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Alright, this is it. Five-one-five Larrabee, right?"

The truck had pulled to a stop and El leaned over to take a peek out the window past Y/n. She had sat stiffly the whole ride, barely muttering a word unless it was to cover up a thing that El might have let slip about her identity. The man seemed to understand her weariness and he didn't pry too much. He had only asked necessary questions, like if their parents were looking for them, or if they were alright.

El answered most of the questions, all relatively short answers. Before they knew it, they had crossed town and Y/n was glad she had thought to go back and hide her bike in some bushes back on Mirkwood.

"Yes," El answered. "Thank you,"

Y/n gave a curt nod towards the man and eagerly opened the door. The man's words made her stop and the two girls looked at him.

"You girls make sure to apologize, alright?" He looked to El kindly. "Your Mama must be scared half to death. How long's it been?"

"Long time," El answered thoughtfully.

After a small pause, Y/n piped up, "Alright," and exited the car, planting her feet firmly on the ground. She reached a hand out to El to help her down, one El gladly took. Not before looking over the man she had been so wary of and tossing him a weak smile.

"Thank you again, sir."

He smiled and nodded in understanding. "No worries, I get it. You ladies be careful alight?"

Y/n mimicked the man and nodded with a genuine smile.

"Will do, take care."

He nodded once more and put the car in gear, and Y/n closed the door behind her. The truck came to life once more before taking off down the road. Y/n looked to El, readjusting the bag on her shoulders and she frowned when she saw a small smile forming on El's lips.

"What?" She asked.

"See? A nice man."

Y/n rolled her eyes, hating the smile that betrayed her mask of annoyance though she couldn't deny the relief that washed over her.

"Yes, he was nice. But for real, we were pretty lucky. Young kids don't usually fare well when it comes to strange men. Or-- well, I guess just strangers in general."

El shrugged and headed down the muddy path in the leaves, Y/n quick to follow. Both of them missing the mailbox labeled Ives. The girls followed the path of the driveway and they saw a small two-story house behind the trees. It wasn't until they reached the porch that El showed a hint of hesitation.

Y/n saw the familiar symptoms of anxiety in her friend and she reached over, grabbing her hand and giving it a light squeeze. El smiled weakly in return, reciprocating with one of thanks. El then released her hand and took a deep breath, tempted to wipe her palms on the side of her overalls despite the absence of actual sweat. She reached out and slapped the door instead, not quite understanding the concept of knocking just yet. Y/n fought the urge to politely correct her, knowing it was a sensitive time.

They waited patiently, but no one answered. So El reached out and hit the door a little harder. A strained and irritated female voice responded almost immediately.

"Go away, I'm not interested!"

The two girls frowned at one another and returned their attention to the door. El leaned forward and began pounding on the door, not stopping until the door opened. Soon enough, it was lurched open, restrained by a chain lock. The face of a woman — no older than Joyce — could be seen behind the gap. She looked between the two girls, her irritation never waning.

"Look, I don't want any thin mints, alright girls?"

El tilted her head in a frown.

"Thin mints?"

"Or your religious mumbo jumbo, or whatever you girls are trying to sell, I ain't buying."

Before either El or Y/n could respond, she slammed the door in their faces. Y/n sighed sharply and looked at El.

"I could try?"

El shook her head. Y/n had learned a long time ago that El was better with her actions than her words, preferring the former to the latter. Y/n watched in silence as El focused all her attention on the door, her head tilted in a familiar fashion. Y/n heard a few soft clicks on the other side if she strained her ears enough, and seconds later the doorknob turned and the door creaked open.

Becky Ives meanwhile, looked on with a mixture of horror and fascination as the chain lock undid itself on her door. The door itself swung open to reveal the two young girls, side by side, one of them had blood dripping from her nose.

El never blinked, staring the woman down, speaking in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

"I want to see Mama."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

After proper introductions, Becky welcomed the girls inside. Not many comprehensive things were said on Becky's behalf, considering the woman was still completely baffled and awestruck that the child her sister had risked her life for was here in her own house. Alive. And very much gifted with abilities Stephen King could spin quite the impressive yarn. Quietly, and somberly, she led her niece and her niece's friend down the hall and into the living room. She did not know how to explain her sister's state to these children — to her own niece.

Y/n watched from the sidelines with Becky as El saw her mother for the first time. The woman was in a rocking chair, slightly unkempt and trapped within her own mind.

"Mama?" El croaked, stepping forward into the living room.

Y/n stayed behind with Becky, her fingers finding their way to her lips as she watched the reunion in heartbreak. She felt as if she didn't have the right to bear witness to this exchange.

The woman was muttering something under her breath, obviously oblivious as to what was happening. Y/n thought she could make out some of the words.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow."

"Mom? Can you hear me?" El asked, her voice cracking.

She crept forward, knowing logically her mother wouldn't disappear like last time, but it didn't prevent the memory from creeping up in her head.

El knelt across from her mother as she felt the first tears sting her eyes.

"Mama?"

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower."

El wasn't used to being the talkative one, but she didn't care if it meant she could interact with her mother.

"It's me, Jane."

Y/n blinked through the tears that clouded her vision, surprised to hear the name leave El's lips. El gently laid a hand on her mother's.

"I'm here now."

The woman broke eye contact with the TV for the first time since their arrival and looked over at El. The smallest spark of recognition in her eyes filled everyone with hope. But it quickly died out when she continued her mantra.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow."

El looked tearfully behind her towards her newly found aunt.

"What's wrong with Mama?"

Becky, who had been watching as tearfully as Y/n had been, looked at El, clearing aching with pity and somber. All she could muster was choked back a sob and she swiped her nose with her sleeve, not knowing how to explain the difficult situation.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Outside the Palace Arcade, Billy Hargrove's car came to a halting stop. Max grips her board tighter as she opens the door, and her attention is brought back to Billy when he speaks up in a harsh order.

"If you aren't out in an hour," he began.

Max stepped out of the car and leaned down, giving him an eye roll.

"I'm skating home. Yeah, I know."

"Hey!" He snapped, glaring at her through his sunglasses. "Watch the attitude, shitbird."

Max sighed and straightened up, itching to get inside and away from Billy. She slammed the car door behind her, just as soon, he sped away and she threw her middle finger up in the air after his fleeting car before stomping inside. Max pushed her way through the crowded arcade and to her favorite machine only to come to a halting stop when she saw the three words every arcade-dwelling kid despised:

'OUT OF ORDER'

A squeaky voice came from her right that made her want to roll her eyes.

"Sorry about that, Rogue Warrior."

She turned to see Keith as he always was; greasy and munching on a bag of chips. Today's choice was Cheetos, and she could see the orange dust staining his fingers.

"What happened?" She asked angrily.

Keith stepped forward and slapped his Cheeto-dusted hand on the top of the machine.

"Short circuit in the motherboard. Real bummer. But fret not, I got another machine up and running in the back."

Hesitantly, she followed Keith to the back. She wondered to herself why in the hell he was going out of his way for her. It wasn't hard to guess that he hated his job and all the kids that accompanied the arcade so why was he bothering to help?

Everything was answered when he unlocked a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY, and there standing in the room smiling weakly at her, was none other than Lucas Sinclair.

Angrily, she stepped inside, knowing he would just follow her if she left. She whirled around to glare at Keith who looked at Lucas pointedly.

"You better get me that date, Sinclair."

"I told you I would."

Keith shushed him, pointing his orange fingers at Lucas.

"And keep things PG in here, alright?" He looked between the two kids in disgust before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Lucas winced at Keith's words, and Max whirled around and stomped towards the boy.

"What is this shit, stalker?"

Lucas stood to his feet quickly.

"I'm sorry," he eased. "I just need a safe place."

Unfortunately, his choice of words did not ease her in any way.

"A safe place to what? Be creepy?"

"Listen, I'm gonna tell you the truth about everything that happened last year, but if anyone finds out, you could be arrested... Possibly killed."

Max scoffed, visibly taken aback by his severity.

"Killed?" She asked incredulously.

"I'm serious. Do you accept the risk?"

Max threw her head back in exasperation and huffed. "God, this is so stupid!"

But Lucas only grew more grave. He looked her in the eye and spoke slower, unable to stress any more the seriousness of the situation.

It was enough to make Max shrug in defeat, giving up and deciding to humor the boy. Whatever got her out of here faster, right?

"Yeah. Sure. Fine," she set down her board and took a seat, waving him off. "I accept the risk."

Lounging in a chair, arms crossed she looked at Lucas expectantly. He had taken a seat across from her, knowing he was in for a rough ride with his friends.

"Well, let's hear it."

Here goes nothing.

"Last year, Will didn't get lost in the woods. He got lost somewhere else."

Max shifted uncomfortably when she heard finally accepted his unwavering tone. He was deeply concerned and no matter how hard she searched, she couldn't find even a hint of humor. Max was finally beginning to feel concerned herself.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Will continued scribbling away on another parchment of paper. Miraculously, his arm had not yet grown tired despite the feverish strokes of pencil to paper and the fact that this picture was one of hundreds.

He stopped suddenly, looking at his work, disturbed. Joyce, who had been waiting over his shoulder with Mike, leaned down pointing to the drawing.

"Is this where you saw him? Hopper?"

Will sat back, looking at the drawing and he nodded.

"Mm-hm, I think so," he mumbled.

Joyce grabbed the drawing and began searching the house for its rightful spot, Mike joined her. She was in the kitchen, holding the parchment up to a gap on the wall, but it didn't quite seem to fit, she heard Mike's triumphant cry.

"Over here!"

She crossed the kitchen to where Mike stood by the fridge. Sure enough, there was a gap between one large tunnel and two thinner ones splitting off. Joyce kneeled to place the missing piece.

"Okay, so Hopper is here."

Mike nodded.

"Yeah, we just need to find out where 'here' is, right?"

Joyce nodded, her brows furrowed in thought.

"Right."

"Did he say anything? I mean, before he left?"

She sighed, trying to make sense of Hopper's departing words before he disappeared through the door.

"Uh, something about vines?"

They both paused when they heard the rumbling of an approaching car. Joyce and Mike ran to the front room, hoping by some miracle Hopper was okay and he had returned. Their hopes fell when they saw a red Toyota Camry Liftback belonging to none other than Bob Newby.

Joyce quickly stepped out onto the porch where Bob was carrying a small stack of puzzles. He smiled widely upon seeing her.

"Surprise! I would've called but you said not to clog up the line."

Joyce smiled weakly, leaning against the beam of her front porch.

"We're fine, we don't need anything." She eased nervously.

"When I was a kid — and I was sick all the time as a kid — nothing made me feel better than focusing on these brain teasers."

She smiled nervously. "Those are great," Bob looked hopefully at Joyce and she forced a normal smile. A strained smile Bob, unfortunately, picked up on. "He's sleeping"

Bob tried to hide his disappointment and he nodded.

"Okay," Bob perked up, bouncing on his heel ever so slightly. "I could wait with you?"

Joyce sighed, and shook her head, giving him an apologetic look

"Now's just not a good time. But you know what, I'll call you." She placed a hand on his cheek bringing him closer and gave a gentle peck before pulling away. "Thank you,"

He couldn't stop himself from smiling and he nodded. "You sure?"

"Yeah,"

"Well you have him call me, they don't call me Bob the brain for nothin," he said, stepping off the porch and heading back to his car.

Joyce nodded and began to head back inside when suddenly she paused. A light bulb went off in her head.

"Bob!"

Bob stopped outside his car and smiled, extending his arms out in a goofy mock introduction.

"That's my name!"

But how would she explain this without giving everything away?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Needless to say, Bob was very much caught off guard when he stepped inside the Byers' home. He tried his best to ignore his judgemental thoughts. After all, the family was going through a troubling time and what they chose to do to keep their minds off of it was their business. It was curious though.

"Huh"

Bob turned to Will who had been standing behind him.

"You drew all these, yourself?"

"Mm-hm."

Bob returned his attention to the tunnels, processing everything. Though he could not hold back his curiosity any longer.

"Can I ask why?"

Joyce shook her head.

"I told you the rules, no questions."

Disappointed but understanding, Bob nodded showing his compliance. Joyce continued as she walked through the house, expecting him to follow.

"We just need your help figuring out what it is,"

Bob was still lost in thought until he heard Joyce's urgent calls.

"Bob, come on, over here."

Handing the stack of puzzles to Mike, Bob followed Joyce into the kitchen. He found kneeling on the ground drawing a large red 'x' on one of the pieces of paper.

"Can you tell me what this is?"

Joyce stepped back to allow Bob to examine the tunnels, Mike joined them gesturing to the 'x'.

"That's the objective, find the 'x'," Mike added.

"Yeah?" Bob asked, leaning down to examine the picture. "What's the 'x', pirate treasure?"

Bob chuckled and Joyce was quick to redirect his attention.

"Bob, no questions." She reminded him firmly.

"Okay," Bob sighed, and he gently pulled Joyce aside. "Joyce, you can talk to me. You know that, right?"

Joyce became visibly uncomfortable, trying to play off her avoidance.

"Uh, yeah, of course. What's the problem, exactly?"

"What's the problem?" Bob laughed nervously, gesturing around the decorated room. "Will doesn't look well, you don't look well. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" She said defensively. "Nothing."

"Is this another episode? Is this another one of Will's episodes?"

"No, no. No!"

Bob sputtered, a hand resting on his forehead, rubbing it nervously.

"I'm sorry, I j-just don't see how any of this is good for Will, or for you? And even if I wanted to play along, I mean, I don't know if I can figure anything out if I don't understand the context of the game! Or..."

Bob had trailed off, and Joyce noticed something had caught his eye and attention just over her shoulder.

"What? What is it?" She looked from Bob back to the window where he had been staring.

"I know that shape."

Around the window, a trail of tunnels had created an oddly twisted circle that almost looked like a heart.

"That's Lovers Lake," He smiled triumphantly, and everything began to click. "That's Lovers Lake!"

Excitedly, Bob turned around and back into the kitchen leaving their past discussion.

"I get it! Okay, I get it! That's Lake Jordan,"

Bob gestured to the shape formed on the walls out in the hall, continuing through the house, Joyce on his tail. He reached the living room and pointed excitedly to more tunnels.

"And if that's Lake Jordan, then that would mean- yup! Settlers Quarry!"

Bob's eye line trailed to the floors, now fully immersed in the puzzle. Everyone was quick to follow.

"And if you just follow it naturally, it moves to Eno River!" Bob stood across the corner of the living room, pointing to the corner before continuing his explanation.

"And there it is! That's the Eno, do you see it? Okay, so the lines aren't roads but they act like roads" Bob made his way back into the kitchen. "And they act like roads cause if you follow them you'll see they don't go over water! And that's the giveaway. That's the giveaway!"

Bob made circles around the table, ending up in front of the fridge while everyone else listened intently, their hopes rising.

"Hah! Don't you get it? It's not a puzzle, it's a map! It's a map of Hawkins!"

He looked on in amazement, baffled by the creativity and the ability. Will and Mike looked at each other in surprise, and Joyce was looking at Bob in shock. Bob looked at Will and smiled.

"Right Will?"

Will found himself speechless, shocked at the revelation. Though he couldn't quite dismiss the feeling of disappointment and anger deep inside himself.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper caught the movement from the corner of his eye and was quick to bring his foot down, squashing the vines that had come alive at his feet.

"Does anybody copy?"

Hopper had been trying his radio all night, and while there were no signs of a response, he continued to call for help.

"Look, if anybody copies this is Jim Hopper, Hawkins chief-"

His finger left the button and static echoed off the walls. He was looking on in shock as he found himself in a wide-open space, with several tunnels connecting. The beam of his flashlight traveled the walls and onto the ceiling where large spores, bigger than his head, were breathing and puffing out spurts of more flakes. He jumped to the side, startled when something had come alive by his feet, another vine that had tried to grab at him.

Hopper squinted in the darkness. Although his eyes had adjusted, and his flashlight still worked, it had begun to dim and he could have sworn he saw branches on the wall move. He reached for his lighter, flicking it on with the same old sleight of hand. He brought the orange flame to a wall of vines and branches, his eyes were quite pleased to see a change of color than the suffocating deep violets all around him.

The branches, he noticed, twitched and writhed under the heat. His hopes rose as the underbrush withered, and a plan formed in the cogs of his mind. He retraced his steps to the center of the hub, where he had stepped on a pile of bones earlier. The revolting find was now a godsend. Swallowing his previous disgust, he plucked the largest bone of the bunch and discarded his outer shirt altogether.

Eagerly, he wrapped the grimy cloth around the end of the large bone and lit the makeshift torch. His uniform quickly went up in flames just as the man had hoped and he quickly returned the tangle of branches. It didn't take long for the vines to retreat, they hissed as they recoiled, peeling back to reveal the grime of the tunnels' side.

He planted the torch in the ground, keeping the flame intact should he require it again. Quickly he got to work, surprisingly it took little effort to break the surface of the tunnels. It was the same slimy webbing of the Upside Down and it split easily. It was only a matter of time before he was out.

At least, he hoped so.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Dustin has gotten used to the sight of bloodied fur by now though he couldn't say he wouldn't be traumatized from the encounter. Mews' body and the majority of her injuries had only just now been covered. It had taken him longer than expected to dig a small cat grave, though now at least he could finally put her to rest.

Exasperated, he dug the shovel in the newly lain dirt and sighed, activating his comms once more.

"Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy? This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!"

No answer.

"I really need someone to pick up here,"

He had tried yet again, only now he was far more perturbed. And not just because he was under the kitchen sink, where it always reeked of bleach.

Yes, he shouldn't have kept Dart a secret. He knew this, and now he was paying for it. For christ's sake, he just buried his cat and if that didn't already come with a boatload of trauma and guilt that he would be repressing for years to come, trying to deal with Dart alone would surely do the trick. But Dustin was tired of the radio silence, it was driving him nuts and it was really starting to worry him.

And now he couldn't find his freaking gloves! Oh, there they were. Dustin plucked them from the back of the cabinet where they had been hiding, and he slipped them on, glad to have his head out of the stinky cabinet space.

"Hopper's MIA," he continued into the headset. "and I've got a code red. Code red!"

"All right, it's Dustin again," he eased, shoving down all his rising anxieties. "Seriously, I have a code red."

"Can you please shut up?"

Dustin perked, temporarily forgetting his task of scrubbing his bloodied carpet. It was Erica, Lucas's sister.

"Erica? Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?"

"Don't know. Don't care."

"I-is he with Mike or Y/n? Anybody?"

Erica, meanwhile, paced around her brother's room, his walkie in hand as she half-heartedly examined his so-called toys. She always found them less than interesting for her taste but she deemed his He-Man toy interesting enough for her to fiddle with for the time being.

"Like I said, I don't know and I don't care."

Didn't this kid have ears? He sure did have a mouth, that was for sure.

"Please tell him it's super important. Please tell him I have a code--"

"Code red?" She asked annoyed.

"Yep, code red. Exactly."

"Mm-hmm. I got a code for you instead. It's called code shut-your-mouth."

With no more time to waste, she switched the walkie off, happy to rid herself of the broken record. All Dustin was left with was the familiar company of silence that fell over the air.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"I just need a little help understanding, sweetie, okay?"

My arms still folded on top of my chest, I return my gaze to El. I haven't said much since our arrival, given it was such a sensitive time and place.

The three of us sat at the kitchen table, Becky — El's aunt, I guess — is still trying to get El to talk. I look to my right, where El sits. She is still watching her mother in the other room, where she remains sitting, eyes still glued to the TV. I feel much like her in that regard; I feel stuck, not able to fix the situation in any way. I'm forced to watch El long for her mother, unable to comprehend what she must be going through right now.

Becky continues to try and persuade her. She has asked me a few times but I've made it clear that I'm not going to share anything on El's behalf.

"Can you tell me where you came from? Where you've been all this time?"

I've remained relatively silent during the whole ordeal, only watching the exchange, speaking only when necessary. That is until I hear what Becky says next.

"A policeman and a woman came looking for you last year. Did they find you?"

Becky noticed my attention was captured, and she directed her question at me.

"Do you know them?"

I nodded, looking briefly to El whose eyes were still fixed on her mother. I looked back at Becky.

"Yes, I think so. Was that Joyce Byers by any chance?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so, that sounds right. Is she your mom?"

"No, I just- I didn't realize they were ever here," I mumble.

My eyes fall back to my glass. She offered us food and water. I gratefully accepted an apple she had leftover — which now occupied the trash can as of about half an hour ago — and now I sat across from my water glass. For the past fifteen minutes, I've been watching the droplets of condensation race down the outside of the cup.

El broke the small moment of silence, directing attention back to her.

"She won't get better..." she mumbled sadly, eyes still fixed across to the living room. "will she?"

I looked to Becky, a somber mask covered her features. Her fingers drummed over her other hand, her arms folded across one another on the table, and I could tell she was struggling with the emotion of it all herself. Not knowing how to explain it to us, especially El.

"They don't think so, no." She whispered sadly, she sniffled. "She's not in any pain. She's just stuck, they think. Like in a dream. A long dream."

El finally broke her gaze and returned her attention to Becky. There was a great, understandable, sadness in her eyes that made my heart ache.

"A good dream?" She asked hopefully.

Becky responded in an equally soft voice, and I could tell her heart was breaking all over again.

"I hope so."

El sighed and looked back wistfully at her mother.

"Is it the same dream?"

"We don't know," Becky answered. "Sometimes she says different words. But usually those."

El whimpers softly and I feel my heart break all over again. I guess Becky and I have the same instinct seeing as we both reach out to comfort her. My hand finds its way on her arm, and I rub it soothingly. Becky had reached across the table, extending her arm out in solace.

"She always believed you were out there." I could her voice breaking. "She always believed you'd come home one day."

El looked back to Becky, her eyes dampening.

"Home?" She asked hopefully.

It occurs to me that El has never really had a place to call home. I guess it's easy for me to forget how easy I've had it.

"Yeah," Becky sniffles. "home."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

I watch the water circle the drain, I take advantage of the white noise it provides, allowing me to quell the buzzing thoughts and feelings threatening to overwhelm my system.

Becky was showing El where her room would have been. I politely excused myself from the private moment and I was now hiding out in the bathroom. I miss Dustin and I miss my mom. I'm glad I came, and I'm more than willing to take a step back during this time and wait for the answers I came here for. But I guess I just didn't comprehend the actual intensity of the situation. Of course I knew it would be intense, and it was already hard enough deciding to come here with her to see her mom. But I guess, no matter how much I anticipated would happen, neither of us could have comprehended the state her mother was in.

My thoughts are disrupted by the small hum of flickering lights. I look up at the bulb above the sink in curiosity. I'm used to bad things happening after such occurrences. Curious, I kill the water and step out into the hallway, the door opening with an unhelpful chilling creak. It seems the bathroom wasn't the only faulty light. I cross the hallway and return to the kitchen, the source of the next flickering bulb.

What the hell?

The bulb returns to normal, and for a moment nothing happens. That is until a soft hum in the other room catches my ear. I turn my head and see the lamp next to El's mother. I felt uneasy about going into the other room alone with her mother, luckily timing was on my side as I soon heard two pairs of footsteps descending the stairs. I quickly turned around and gestured over my shoulder.

"I think there's something..."

I trailed off when I saw the light pooling in from the stairway had been flickering. El fixed her attention past me, where the tiny lamp had begun to flicker once more. She came forward and I stepped aside allowing El to examine it while my attention fell to Becky.

"The lighting in the bathroom was faulty. I came outside and it was like that out here too. It was weird, almost like a trail."

Becky nodded knowingly at me.

"We were having it too. The house, it does that from time to time, but sweetie," she returned her attention to El, still focused on the lamp. "really, it's just faulty wiring."

"No." She stated, looking across the room towards her mother and the flickering lamp.

Without another word, she sped into the living room. Becky and I followed her, more than confused. El took a knee beside her mother. Her mother was muttering more than before, I could have sworn.

"It's Mama," El concluded.

I heard Terry's mumbles, still the same phrases over and over, just as Becky had told us. But she did sound more urgent.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Three to the right, four to the left. Rainbow. Run."

It isn't until El brings her finger to her mother's nose that I notice blood is dripping from her nostril. At the sight, a powerful chill runs up my spine and sends a wave of goosebumps rippling over my skin.

Becky looks from me to her sister and niece. "I don't understand."

"She knows I'm here," El said softly.

I jump when the TV switches channels and watch with bated breath as it all unfolds. The knob on the set moves in sudden spurts as if an invisible hand is turning it. In a way, I guess, it is. The channels began speeding up, each clip shorter than the last until finally, it stopped on a screen of static. El rose to her feet as it all happened and she stood before the screen of static before finally speaking up.

"She wants to talk."