I hesitated for a moment before going inside my room for the night. To be honest, I was nervous. I hadn't visited the inside my old room since moving out. Part of this was the issue of practicality-up until now, I visited Leah and Mark for a couple of hours, leaving well before it was time for me to go to bed. Then, there was the emotional reason. I had never been happier than during the two years I had lived with my older sister. My bedroom had been a part my home, and of that time. It represented safety, a part of the haven that Leah and I had created for ourselves. We were finally free from my parents, in her apartment. It had always been her apartment-she had lived there for years before I had joined her. Still, it was a refuge for me. Emotionally and physically, it was a safe place. My room existed as part of that place.

When I moved out, I hadn't left anything in that room that belonged exclusively to me. Nor did I ask Leah if I could take the sheets and blankets she had allowed me to use during the two years I had lived there. It would have felt too much like I was relying on charity. Instead, I bought new bedding, and a fairly inexpensive bed-all of which I paid very little, since it was an end of season sale. I especially lucked out with my new bed. My coworker-technically, since we had never worked together directly-had explained that it was an older model, and now in disuse. Combined with my employee discount, I barely paid a hundred dollars for the bed. Two of my female coworkers had even gone to my new apartment to help me assemble it. Sure, they got paid the hourly rate, by our company, but I remember thinking it was generous of them.

My clothes, of course, came with me from Leah's apartment. She'd taken me shopping during my first week for a new wardrobe. We'd wanted to burn the clothes I'd worn while living with my parents, but the apartment had no fireplace, so we donated them to some charitable organization instead. I remembered feeling so free in my new clothes, especially since I had been able to choose them. I remembered rising in the morning and spending at least ten minutes just staring at my new clothes, filled with happiness that I had chosen them for myself, and I could decide what I wanted to wear. Not based on choices my parents-namely, my mother-had made for me, but what I had made for myself.

After leaving, I had avoided thinking about what Leah and Mark might do with my old room. I remembered that there had been a bed when I arrived, as well as bedding. Looking back, Leah must have gone out of her way to buy them for me, knowing that I would soon turn eighteen and be out of our parents' clutches. Yet, at the same time, having no money, no job experience, and only a high school diploma. As she had done so often when I was a child, Leah had reached out to protect me.

Now, when I entered the room a second time and gave it a closer look, I was relieved to find that everything had been-mostly-as I remembered.

Granted, the desk that had been there before me was now occupied by a computer and some papers, but other than that, everything else was the same. The bed was there, the sheets peeking out from the sides of the comforter were the same. Everything had been just as I had left it.

I felt-relief. Maybe it was silly, but in that moment, it felt like Leah had left a space for me. A physical space. It was like she was saying that I was always welcome there.

Of course, I remembered, she and Mark were planning to move, soon. So, it wouldn't be that way for much longer. Someone else would rent this apartment. I would continue to have dinner with my sister and my brother in law every week, but the location would be new. Foreign. I would feel more like a stranger there than I had here.

I felt Hallit tug at my mind, as though she was about to say something, but thinking better of it. For a minute, I was envious of her. She could keep her thoughts to herself, after all.

Not to mention, she heard that one.

I felt my face grow hot. (I'm sorry,) I told her. (Hallit, I'm so sorry.)

(Rachel,) she told me, her voice warm and comforting, like a blanket. (It's all right.)

(I'm...I'm just tired, I guess,) I said, as I made my way into the bed.

(It's going to be all right,) she promised, and I could feel the conviction in her voice.

(How do you know?) I asked her, feeling my throat constrict.

(I don't know,) Hallit admitted, (but I've had a couple of human hosts before you, and I've gotten quite good at reading and understanding people. Not just those I infest, either.)

(You're not telling me something you know,) I complained, half heartedly.

(Not something I know,) she corrected, (but...it's something I suspect.) She paused, slightly, before adding, (If I knew, I would tell you, Rachel. But as it's only a guess, I don't want to say anything that could get your hopes up. Since...since you don't suspect anything, I'd rather not say anything.)

I could see her logic, and besides, did I really want her to tell me something she could only guess at. (But you think it's a good thing?)

(I do,) she reassured me.

(Maybe...) I considered, (she wants to move nearer to me. So I can babysit when her baby comes,) I considered.

(Perhaps,) Hallit told me, giving me a mental smile.

I rolled my eyes. (That wasn't what you were thinking.)

(Not quite,) she laughed.

I rolled over in the bed, savoring the softness of the mattress. The warmth of the blankets. No doubt about it-my old bed was more comfortable than the one I currently slept in.

(That's easily fixed,) Hallit reassured me. (With an extra blanket or two to sleep under.)

Maybe.

(Good night, Hallit,) I told my Yeerk, yawning.

(Sweet dreams, Rachel.)

I didn't fall asleep immediately, and as Yeerks have no control over how quickly their hosts fall asleep (or wake up), Hallit couldn't make me sleep. That, I had learned during my first day as a host, was out of both of our control. Sort of like having to breathe, I guess. But I was definitely tired, and with the bed being so comfortable, it probably didn't take me more than a few minutes to fall asleep.

My sleep was dreamless. I preferred that, usually. It usually meant that I slept more fully, woke up feeling more rested. Hallit could operate my body well enough when I hadn't slept well, but it was easier for both of us when I got at least eight solid hours of rest.

I opened my eyes, smelling the strong scent of coffee and a slightly less strong scent of cooking. Huh?

(You're at your sister's,) Hallit reminded me, with a laugh.

Oh, right.

(Thanks,) I replied, pulling off the covers with a little reluctance as I glanced at the clock. It was past 8 in the morning. (Good morning, by the way.)

Hallit laughed again, the noise pleasant in my mind. (Good morning, Rachel.)

I pulled on a bathrobe and glanced at myself in the mirror before deciding it would be best to run a brush through my hair.

(May I?) Hallit asked.

She was asking, I knew, not demanding. Not saying that I had been in control for far longer than usual, and she was more than due her turn.

Nor, I imagined, was she thinking it.

My Yeerk was simply asking.

(Sure, go ahead,) I told her, sending her a mental smile.

Hallit took full control of my body as she reached for the brush. I'd heard-a couple weeks back-that some Yeerks gave their voluntary hosts partial control of their bodies as well as full control for a couple of hours a day. It struck me as strange. What Yeerk or host would want to give up a hand or a foot? What host would want to control only a small part of their body? Not that I was one to question whatever worked for a Yeerk and their voluntary host.

Needless to say, it never came up in conversation between myself and Hallit.

She brushed my hair carefully, starting at the ends and then moving up until she reached my scalp. With her hold on me gentle, as always, I could feel every stroke. It felt very relaxing, and I was tempted to ask her to let me go back to bed for another hour or so, but neither of us wanted to do anything to make Leah or Mark wait with their breakfast. Or feel like they would have to prepare a second meal for us, later.

Still, I let out a few mental sighs of contentment before Hallit was finished with my hair. She kept control while she brushed my teeth, as well, but let go as soon as we were in the kitchen with my sister and brother in law.

"Good morning," I told them, with a smile.

I was relieved to see that both Leah and Mark were still in their pajamas-well, in Leah's case, a nightgown covered by a large bathrobe which seemed to accentuate her pregnancy more than her dress the previous evening had. While they were both sitting at the table when I arrived, Leah stood up immediately and pulled me into a big hug.

"Good morning, honey. How'd you sleep?" she asked.

"Pretty good," I told her, my arms still wrapped around her. "You?" As an afterthought, I added, "And you, Mark?"

"Can't complain. Better than your sister, that's for sure," he added, glancing at her.

"What's wrong?" I asked, watching Leah as I took a seat next to her at the table.

She just laughed. "Oh, I had to get up a few times last night to go to the bathroom. No nausea or anything-this kid just keeps pushing down on my bladder during the nighttime hours."

"I'm beginning to wonder whether the technological advance from chamber pots to standard bathrooms was the wisest decision," Mark remarked.

Leah rolled her eyes. "Yes, because I'm sure that's extremely sanitary, hon."

"Not to mention the potential for spillage," I chimed in, wrinkling my nose at the idea.

Mark made a face, probably picturing the image in his mind. "All right, I surrender. Not only because I'm outnumbered, but because the logic against chamber pots outweighs the logic in favor of them."

"Spoken like a true computer scientist," Leah grinned, standing up to kiss him on the cheek.

Mark laughed. "Anyway, Rachel, I was just starting to make breakfast. As you can see, we already have a pot of coffee made, but I don't believe you drink any?"

I shook my head. "Never could like the taste, even with milk and sugar. And I seem to be immune to the caffeine boost."

"Right. So, I was going to make Leah some pancakes and eggs, and I can do the same for you. Of course, if there's anything else you want-we have several boxes of cereal, for example...?"

"Pancakes sounds great," I told my brother in law.

I hadn't eaten them in awhile, but I always enjoyed them when I did.

Mark nodded. "And for a drink?"

"Milk?" I asked. "Non-fat, if you have any."

"We do," Mark assured me. "I use 2% for the pancakes and the coffee, but we use skim milk for everything else."

At my confused face, Leah explained, "Texture. And it adds a little flavor to pancakes and coffee."

(That's what my previous female host used to do,) Hallit told me. (On the rare occasion that she ate pancakes.)

I gave her a mental shrug. (Well, you'd know better than I would, Hallit, since Leah was always the one to make them...you know, before.)

(Yes,) she murmured, gently.

Leah and I sat down again, and I noticed some papers spread out on top of the table. The one closest to me had a street address and an outline of a house on it, along with several paragraphs that must have been related to the address.

I glanced at my sister, nodding to the papers. "Is this the house we'll be seeing today?"

"Yes," Leah confirmed, moving the papers so I could see them better. "Jackie-she's our real estate agent-contacted us earlier this week about it going up on the market."

"The market's gotten fairly competitive in this area over the last few years," Mark told us, as he flipped a pancake on its side, "and I'm concerned that if we don't get moving quickly, we'll stay here, throwing our hard-earned money away on rent, until our kid is a teenager. If things continue to move in this direction, it will cost at least a million dollars to buy a one bedroom tear down."

"Tear down?" I echoed.

"A property that's better off bulldozed and rebuilt than fixed up," Leah explained. "Where, in the long term, you're better off building a new house from scratch. That's assuming that the housing market continues at this rate as a seller's market."

"How far out are you looking?" I asked, feeling a lump form in my throat.

Leah squeezed my hand. "Nowhere farther than thirty minutes away from here," she assured me.

"The commute would be killer, otherwise," Mark added, starting on another pancake.

I felt relief flow through me. An extra half an hour to see my sister on weekends could be difficult, but it wouldn't be like she was thinking of moving to another part of the state. Or worst, another state altogether.

"You do a lot of work from home," Leah pointed out.

"You don't, though. And besides, I have to be able to come in on a moment's notice. Doubt that they would want to increase their wait time by another hour every time they think something's gone wrong with the software," Mark explained. "Of course, it might cause them to redefine what they consider an emergency." He paused, adding more pancakes to the plate. "All right, ladies. Breakfast, part one, is served."

A/N: If you've read this far, please take a few minutes to leave a review!