I frown at the man in front of me. The way he´s looking at me is kind of creeping me out. If his eyes tell me anything, it´s that he´s a little bit loony. Mom´s question is at the forefront of my mind. Have you by any chance been approached by someone you don't know today?

What is this man doing on school grounds? I´ve never seen him before…

Yup, time to bolt.

"Okay, well, that´s great and all, but could you please get out of my way, I´m in a hurry— Wait, how do you know my name?", I ask, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. He isn't some kind of psycho stalker with thousands of pictures of me stuck to his bedroom wall or something, right?

The bizarre look is wiped from his face. "I´m a new teacher at school,", he says, smiling kindly at me, "and I´ve seen your face some of the files. I know most people's names, actually.".

Oh, wow. Sleep deprivation is really getting to me. I´ve just spun a perfectly normal situation into an episode of CSI Miami in a mere three seconds. You´ve been watching to many detective movies.

I smile back at him, embarrassed at my behavior in front of a teacher. My face is a bit heated up.

"I´m sorry, Mr. Garroway. Welcome to our school. What subject do you teach?", I ask eagerly. I hope he isn't offended by my earlier implication. It would not be smart to alienate someone who might grade my papers one day.

His eyes warm at my apology, so I guess he´s not. "I teach biology, actually.", he answers. There´s a twinkle in his eyes I hadn't noticed before.

"Oh, that explains why I haven't seen you around. I don't take biology. Seeing the insides of animals is not one of my many interests.". I shudder.

Oops. Did I just insult him again? Nice job, moron. He must actively dislike me by now. I know now he won't have a say in my grades, but I do want him to like me. He seems like a cool guy. And, of course, if he'd go blabbing about my rude behavior among other teachers, this might arouse some dislike from the teacher that to judge my work.

He just grins. "Yes, it's not everyone's interest. But I have always been fascinated with the workings of living bodies, human or animal."

I decide I like him. He doesn't have the usual I'm-a-teacher-so-if-you're-not-polite-I'll-eat-you vibe going on. That is very rare to find.

My phone beeps. Message from Jocelyn.

The tense feeling that came from my mother's peculiar behavior makes it way back to the surface, being momentarily repressed by the introduction of a new teacher. I put my phone back in my pocket.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Garroway, but I need to go to the football field and find my brother.". He nods at me and turns to the side so I can pass him.

I look over my shoulder as I do. "It was nice to meet you!".

"It was nice to meet you too, Clarissa.", he says. It may only be for a second, but I think I see the look on his face again. The one that said there was something more going on here. But, that is probably my detective-crazy mind running free again.

Jace has really filled out these last years. He's tall now, taller than Jon. All of the youthful roundness of his face has disappeared, replaced by sharp, angular features. His hair is still just as golden. The unusual golden color that matches his eyes. I can see them right now, twitching and analyzing as he scans the field in front of him. With expert technique, he throws the ball. Perfectly, of course. Jon catches it. Within ten seconds there's another point for team Jace.

I become aware of a pair of eyes watching me. I was very caught up in the practice, I realize now. The pair of eyes weighs down heavily on me as I turn to look at them. A familiar twitch of nausea makes it way to my stomach as Sebastian grins at me from across the field. God, I'd hoped so bad he would back off. But I'm not going to cower under his gaze, I decide now. The scared little girl in me might get the best of me at night, but right now, with both my eyes wide open, I will be strong. I return his gaze with a strong glare, and a slight surprise is to be found on his features.

I turn away, proud of myself. I walk towards coach Starkweather, who is currently yelling at some freshman for not catching the ball properly. The kids eyes are set so wide with fright, you'd think he's facing a demon.

I wait for coach Starkweather to end his rant to the poor boy, and then gently tap his shoulder. He turns around, frowning at whomever might have interrupted his training. He lightens up immediately as he sees me standing in front of him. The sides of his mouth turn up into a smile.

"Ms. Fairchild! To what do I owe the pleasure?". I don't know why, but I'm definitely one of coach Starkweather favorites. He only has a few. It puzzles me, since I'm not particularly good in the physical department. Maybe he just likes my colorful personality.

I smile sweetly at him, happy to accept his favoritism towards me in this situation. "I was actually hoping to steal Jon for the rest of this practice, sir. Our mother just called and asked for us to return home immediately. I'm not sure why, but I think it's important."

He frowns a little at first, but soon his face clears up and his fond smile returns. "Okay, then. I'm sure Jon can suffer to miss the last thirty minutes, but only because you asked so nicely.".

Score. Coach Starkweather is known to be very strict about football practice, and I'm surprised he gave in so easily. I guess my charms must have upped their game today.

"Fairchild!", he booms over the field. "Here! Now!"

The confused look on Jon's face is priceless as he runs over to where we are standing. He doesn't seem to see me, being too focused on his coach. "Sir? Did I do something wrong?", he asks. Then he spots me, and his confusion doubles. I giggle. "Clary? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be studying or something?"

I roll my eyes at his assumption. I'm not that much of a nerd. I normally would be studying right now, though, so I don't say anything about it.

"No, Jon. Mom called. She needs us at home."

"What? Why? Is she hurt?", he asks, concern apparent in his voice. Always the protector.

"No, she sounded fine when she called me. We should go now, though. I mean, something's definitely up."

He nods his head in agreement. "Yeah. I'll change quickly. You go to the parking lot, I'll be there in five.", he says, already running towards the locker rooms.

I turn back to Coach Starkweather. "Thanks for letting him go, Sir. I'll make him run a few laps around the house when we get there to keep his endurance up, okay?", I suggest.

He scoffs. "Good luck with that. I have to force him with all of my might to make him run laps here. No offense, but I don't think your brother will listen to you more than his coach."

I smile at him deviously. "Well, no offense to you, sir, but I've got more blackmail material. Family pictures, and all that."

He laughs loudly. "Ah, Ms. Morgenstern, you are a delight. You should really consider joining the cheer squad one of these days. Your spirit could teach them a few things."

I shudder involuntarily. Cheering meant moving. Moving meant wasted energy. Nah, let's not. "I don't think cheerleading is really my kind of thing, sir."

He just shrugs, and turns away to yell at some more of the team members.

Suddenly, I hear a voice, right by my ear.

"Did I just hear something about you cheering, Fire.", Jace whispers. "Because that would be a sight to see."

I jump about three feet into the air, and the yelp coming out of my throat is so high it almost hurts my own ears.

"Jace! You almost scared my guts out of my butt!". I turn around to see Jace doubled over with laughter.

"You…", he manages to get out between hiccups, "should've… seen… YOUR FACE!".

I glare at him. "Yeah, what would you do if you suddenly hear a creepy voice whisper in your ear."

He snorts, controlling his hysterics. "Not that.", he responds cheekily. "You sounded like a freaking fire alarm."

I shake my head at him, a slight smile appearing on my face. I pull out my phone to check the time.

2 messages from Jocelyn. Crap.

"I need to go.", I tell Jace, interrupting him in the middle of an imitation of my reaction. "Sorry.", I utter, turning away to the parking lot.

I make it about three steps until a hand around my arm turns me back around. I'm met with Jace's frowning face.

"Wait, I'm sorry I scared you. You don't need to be mad.", he says, making puppy eyes at me.

I chuckle. "Relax, Jace. I'm not mad, I just need to go home. Jon's waiting for me."

He smiles at my words. "Good. Wait, not good. Why is Jon waiting for you? Is there something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine, probably. Our mom just called me and asked us to come home. I don't know why, but I'm sure there's no big problem.", I reassure him.

His face scrunches up in confusion. "Well, it's kind of weird she called you. But I'm sure you're right. If there's something wrong, you can always tell me in your email this afternoon."

The annoyance of him blowing me off for this afternoon returns to me, making me respond a little more harshly than I intended. "Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow.", I say, pulling loose from his grip and stalking off towards the parking lot. This time he doesn't follow me.

"So, what do you think is up with mom?", Jon inquires as we pull into our driveway.

"I don't know. She sounded kind of normal over the phone, but I knew something was up. I guess we'll find out in a sec.", I reply as I open the door to get out. We walk towards our front door together, Jon locking the car over his shoulder as I get my key.

What would make Mom feel the need to get us home as soon as possible, with no explanation? Why couldn't she just tell me over the phone? We aren't going to move to Alaska to avoid the Mafia or something, right?

I don't know anything about my Mom's old life. I only know Jon and I's dad died when I was only one year old. There is nothing connecting to anything before that. We don't have pictures. She doesn't have any college or childhood friends she calls once in a while. She has the Lightwoods and the Herondales, but she met them when we moved here. It´s the same for Jace and Izzy. Their parents don´t have any stories about their life before they had children, either. It´s normal for us, and has never really been a problem.

So I don't know anything about mom´s history. I don't know who her parents were. I only know they died. She never speaks about my dad's parents. I guess they're dead too.

So, for all I know, she really could have been a part of the Mafia.

Stop watching detective movies, for God's sake.

I shake my head, clearing it of any ridiculous theories that have formed in there. I need to focus on my mom now.

"Mom, we're home! Will you tell us why we had to come here immediately? Is there something wrong?"

I hear my mother's voice come from the dining room. "I'm in here, honey."

Jon and I walk towards our mother. She's sitting at the dining table, with three cups of tea and a few cookies.

She looks up at us as we enter, and smiles timidly. There's something about her posture that's off.

I move toward the table quickly and sit next to her. Jon sits down across from us. "Mom, what's wrong? You´re kind of freaking me out. Whatever´s wrong, you can tell us, and we´ll deal with it."

In a split second, her demeanor changes. She sits up a little straighter and the scared look in her eyes grows very faint.

"I know. And I love you for it.", she says, looking into Jon's eyes for a few seconds and then into mine. "But you need to understand that there are some things about my past that you don't know. I've never felt the need for you to know, but there's a reason for it now."

I frown at her. "What are you talking about, Mom?"

My mother takes a deep breath. "This morning, I got an e-mail from somebody that I used to know. I, uhm, he is an ex-boyfriend of mine.", she says, looking down at the table. The only way I know she's nervous is the way she laces her fingers together in her lap and squeezes so hard her knuckles turn white. "He always was quite taken with me. He didn't… approve when I broke it off him. I cut him off completely and made sure he didn't know where I was, where I had gone. I thought – hoped - that I'd never see him again. But now he seems to have found me. Or, at least, that's what he said in the message he sent to my old e-mail address. The one I used when I was with him. I don't know if I believe him. It probably is all a scam, but I would be more comfortable if you'd carry these with you at all times from now on.". She grabs a bag from under her chair and puts it on the table. Out of the bag appear to bottles. 'Pepper spray' is written in block letters on both of them.

She looks at us expectantly.

Jon clears his throat, his eyes darting between mine and Mom's a few times.

"Uhm, mom, are you sure your ex-boyfriend would still come looking for you?", he asks, doubtful. "I mean, I get that you broke his heart when you left, but what you're talking about is him stalking you – us – after 20 years of not seeing you. "

Mom looks at him. Her voice is unwavering when she answers him. "Yes. If he found me, he would. I have no doubts about that. My doubts are whether he actually found me, or if he just used the old address thinking he'd get a reaction out of me. He hasn't, of course.", she says, looking down, her dark red hair falling into her face. "I´m not that stupid."

She looks up again, her gaze darting between me and Jonathan's. She seems to take in the slightly skeptical looks on our faces.

"I'm serious, guys. This man… He's bad news. I might have overreacted a little bit in calling you out of school, but I am not when I ask you to carry these around.", she says, sincerity filling her voice.

I decide to agree to her request. "Okay. We'll take them, if it'll ease your conscience.", I state. "But mom, what about him makes him such a bad man? What made you leave him?" The way she speaks of him has a dark note to it. I'm curious as to why.

My mother swallows visibly. "He had certain… activities he did for his work that the regular American police officer would not agree with.".

My mom used to date a criminal? Well, that's a plot twist. I never would've expected it. She always has this innocent air to her, like she wouldn't hurt a fly.

"Wow, like, criminal stuff?", Jon supplies eagerly. "Did he rob a bank or something?"

I roll my eyes at him. Jon and his stupid action-movie obsession. Boys will be boys.

My mom laughs at his comment. The tense air around us eases a little. "No, of course not. If he had, I would have stayed with him.", she replies with a sassy toss of her hair.

Jon's eyes widen. "Mom! Why would you say that!"

A playful glint passes through her eyes. "It's all about the benjamins, baby.", she says, smirking.

The look on Jon's face does it. I burst out laughing, clutching at my stomach, mom and Jon following soon after. It´s not even that funny, but it´s a way to release the tension in the room.

"God, mom, please never talk like a pimp again, I beg you.", Jon exclaims, throwing his hands into the air. Grabbing one bottle of pepper spray of the table, he stands up and stalks out of the room.

"I don't even want to know where you've learned how to talk like that!", he yells from the other room.

I think I'm crying.