Ophelia turned up her headphones as her mother's shouting got louder. Despite the numerous phone calls and emails Mom had made in the past week, there were still "complications" with readmitting Ophelia back into her classes. Luckily, Mom saw this coming and drove her and Ophelia to Casper High a full hour before the first period. Despite the embarrassment of having her mother tear her principal a new one, Ophelia was grateful that it was too early for anyone to be around to hear it.

Still, Ophelia couldn't shake off the feeling of dread creeping in. The verdict was only a week ago and it was still the hot topic all over the country, let alone in Amity Park. None of her family could leave the house without being harassed by reporters or the stray moron that accused her father of murder. She didn't go online because all she would see was some post or article related to the trial, or a hundred comments and messages from hundreds of people she didn't know and maybe ten or so she did.

Worst of all was the pity.

That she dreaded most of all about coming back to school. Everyone knew what happened to her now, and that was all they would be thinking of when they saw. The whole school will be staring at her, seeing the girl who freaked out on the witness stand, the girl whose father may or may not have killed his own parents and gaslighted her into believing his cover story, the girl who was damaged beyond repair. Those feelings will overwhelm her, just as the feelings of everyone in the courthouse had drowned her.

And of course, someone will want to talk about it, which was even worse than the silent sympathy.

Ophelia wished she could disappear from the universe and go somewhere where she wouldn't have to be reminded of that trial every other minute. But since that wasn't scientifically feasible and Aunt Jazz thought locking yourself in your room was an unhealthy way to address your problems, Ophelia was stuck dealing with the outside world.

Her mother came out around the time students were beginning to fill the hallways. She had the look of victory she'd sometimes get when she won cases.

"I talked with your principal," mom said, "you should be all set with your classes and there will be no marks to your record about the pool incident."

"What about Track," Ophelia asked flatly, "Am I still on the team? I won't even bother to ask if I'm still co-captain."

"You'll have to do a second try-out to determine whether or not you're still fit to be on the team, but you should be fine. Though yeah, I don't think Coach Baxter is going to keep you as co-captain."

"I bet he's got some impossible course set for me, he doesn't like me much."

"What makes you say that?"

"He told me. Last time I was at practice he said, 'You're a pain in my ass, Fenton, but you and Adler are the top runners in your grade so I can't get rid of you.' Granted, I did just talk back to him for making us do ten rounds of suicides."

Mom smiled, but not for long. She must have picked up on Ophelia's dour mood. She knelt down to Ophelia's eye level and rested her hands on her shoulders.

"Look, I know you don't want to go back to school so soon after…well, after the verdict. But locking yourself in your room for the rest of the year isn't going to help you get past it."

Ophelia shrugged her mother's hands off her shoulders. She turned away, curling into herself.

"I'm fine," she muttered.

"Come on, we both know that's not true. I would be more concerned if you weren't taking this hard."

"Don't worry about it, Mom. I'm peachy keen."

"Okay, now I know you're lying."

Ophelia groaned.

"What difference does it make whether or not I'm okay? Vlad's going to jail so who cares if he literally got away with murder?"

Her mother casted her eyes to the ground. She flicked her eyes up to Ophelia, giving that reassuring look that she had come to master in the past years.

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but this may be a good thing for you. You got to tell your story. People know what kind of monster Plasmius truly is. Not many victims get a chance to testify, and fewer still are brave enough to tell it."

"Or have a pushy enough mother to pressure her into it." Ophelia grumbled. Her mother wasn't all too happy to hear that.

"Okay, I get it. I shouldn't have pushed you into it, but I'm not wrong about it being good for you. I told you numerous times of all the cases I've seen where the victims refuse to testify and regretted it for the rest of their lives. I didn't want that for you."

"Sure, and this is way better." Ophelia snipped.

Before her mother could say anything more, the bell rang for first period. Ophelia got onto her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"I've got to get to class," Ophelia said, eyes to the floor. She turned to the direction of her homeroom. "I'll see you at home."

She stopped after two steps, let out something between a sigh and a groan, then turned around to give her mother a hug.

"I love you, okay? I promise I'll be fine."

Her mother hugged her back and gave a peck on her forehead before letting her go.

"Don't forget, Aunt Jazz is picking you up today. Make sure to text her when you're out."

"Okay, Mom."


The air was cold, enough to mist a breath. It had yet to snow, but the grass of the cemetery was covered in a layer of frost in place of morning dew. Danny and Jazz had finished cleaning up their parents' graves before placing fresh bouquets on each of their headstones.

"How long has it been since you visited them?" Jazz asked.

"We all came by when we moved back into town," Danny said, "but not much since then. I've managed to come by myself once or twice. You know, to make sure everything's clean."

"I try to make sure to come at least twice a year. I know it's only the bones here, but it's nice having something direct your feelings towards."

"I'd rather direct my feelings towards a consciousness, but that's never going to happen. Though I guess it's for the better. I wouldn't want them to see how we failed them. How I failed my daughter."

"Danny, don't say that. You didn't fail anyone."

"The headstones in front of us beg to differ. Vlad got away with their murders, blamed them for what happened to Ophelia, and made people think that I killed my own parents."

"Nobody believes that. You didn't kill them. No matter what story those lawyers spin, Vlad is the one to blame for all of this." Jazz put her hand on Danny's shoulder and added. "Don't forget, Ophelia wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for you."

"That's true, but-"

"No buts," Jazz grabbed both his shoulders, making sure that he was square with her. "I'm not going to let you go back into that spiral of guilt and self-loathing you had fourteen years ago. You are a hero, Danny, you have done more good in the past couple of decades than anyone has ever done in their lifetimes. You should be proud of that, I am." Jazz looked over to the headstones. "Mom and Dad would be, too."

Those words hit him hard. It brought him back to that day in the cornfield, before he erased their memories. To the day of Phantom Planet, where they learned the truth, where everyone learned the truth. It brought him back to every milestone in his life from that point forward. All those moments when his parents were there, telling him how proud they were, how much they loved him.

It brought him to that night before Christmas, the last time they ever told him how much they loved him…

He didn't feel himself crumble to the ground, only his sister's arms wrapped around him. He felt the tears warm his cheeks and lump swelling in his throat.

"Shh, it's okay," Jazz murmured, "it's all okay, just let it out."


Before her "sick leave", most of the school was intimidated by her, or at the very least afraid of getting caught in the crossfire of a ghost fight. She couldn't blame them, there has been a lot of trouble since she came to Casper High.

When she came into class today, her classmates' distancing was different. It wasn't out of any fear or disgust, luckily. From what she could gather from reading them, it was more of an awkward respect for her privacy. They didn't want to say anything to her in case of potentially upsetting her or trigger an episode. Ophelia couldn't blame them for this, either. Her little episode at the Nasty Burger was common knowledge in school, making what happened to the still out of use pool old news.

Em was even keeping her distance from Ophelia in homeroom. Ophelia was shying around Em, too. After what came out about their moms, both girls were too afraid to bring it up. Ophelia knew she had the most to apologize for, however. Thanks to Mom's testimony, Em's dad was put on suspension and at risk of losing his job altogether.

Coach Baxter let her skip P.E., partly out of sympathy for her situation, partly out of fear of her destroying his precious gym even further. She wasn't complaining, she'd still have to do her second tryout after school.

Luckily, this was Owen's free period.

Ophelia found him in the library, scribbling doodles into his study notes. She smiled. She felt a small burn in her cheeks before she turned invisible and wandered over to his table. He was lost in his daydreams and scribbles, so lost that he did not notice that she was constructing a fort around him out of his books. He did eventually notice that his notebook was cast in shadow.

"Huh?"

Ophelia held back a giggle.

"Sidney, if that's you, you're not going to make me talk-"

Ophelia plopped onto Owen's lap and wrapped her arms around him.

"Does Sidney do this?" she whispered before covering his mouth with hers.

She felt his shock before his joy surged in. He pictured her face as she kissed him, how sweet. She chose to ignore the worry, the images of texts that were deleted as fast as they were drafted, and the memories of her distraught face on the news.

She made herself visible as she pulled away. He smiled when he saw her face, and he hugged her tightly.

"You're back!" Owen said excitedly before he began to stammer, "I mean, I knew you were coming back today, but I mean it's still awesome to see you! Wait, don't you have gym this period?"

"Baxter gave me this period off," She replied, "He doesn't want me to destroy his gym."

"Either way, I'm so glad to see you. Things have been boring without you."

"Hey! You two!"

Both jumped at the sound of the librarian's voice.

"No PDA on school grounds!"

Owen's face went red. He scrambled to help Ophelia off his lap and onto the chair nearest to him.

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am, won't happen again." He stammered.

Ophelia couldn't help but laugh at his discomfort. Somehow Owen became redder with bashfulness. When the librarian had sufficiently shushed them and wandered to find the next offender of the silence, Ophelia scooted her chair closer to Owen's and wrangled his arm back around her shoulder.

"You've been settling back into your classes alright?" Owen asked.

"They've been…awkward…I can't find a better word than 'awkward'. It's better than being stuck in the house, I guess."

"Well, yeah, it's been a while since they've seen you. You've kind of been a big deal around here since…" He cut himself off. Ophelia felt Owen's worry. She forced half a smile and spared him from finishing his sentence.

"Yeah, I know."

She could see his guilt for bringing it up. He wasn't sure what to say that wouldn't upset her.

"Don't worry," he said with awkward uncertainty. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'm sure a lot of people have been asking you questions over the past few days."

Somehow, even that gave Ophelia a feeling of bitterness that made her entire body tense up. She kept her fake half smile and nodded.

"Thanks," she mumbled. A small trail of vapor slipped from her lips.

"Ophelia?"

Both Ophelia and Owen looked across the table to see Trix standing between bookshelves. She carried a small stack of books which she immediately dropped to zip over and squeeze the life out of Ophelia.

"You're back!" Trix exclaimed excitedly. "It's so good to see you. How are you holding up? What a stupid question to ask, you must be doing horribly. I was in the courthouse every day, listen to every horrible thing-"

"Ms. Weisz!"

The librarian stormed her way to the table, only stopped to pick up the books Trix carelessly dropped.

"You know the rules of the library," she chided to Trix, "And I'd appreciate it if you took better care of the books."

"Sorry, Ma'am," Trix said, somewhat dismissively. The librarian set the discarded books on the opposite end of the table and gave them a cold look before leaving them.

"It's nice to see you too, Trix," Ophelia said, "And yes, I am fine, thank you. I appreciate your concern but no need to go into hysterics."

Trix blushed and gave Ophelia a hug.

"I'm sorry, but what I saw at the courthouse made me worried about you. That and the Poindexter kid always asking me how you are doing."

"You too?" Owen asked.

"Yeah, but I think he's like that with all the kids who's been through stuff. You think with all that concern he'd be a counselor or something."

"Maybe I should talk to Sidney," said Ophelia, "I have a feeling that he'll get the whole student body on my case if I don't see something."

"I'll help you," Owen said as he put his arm around her shoulder, "I know where he hangs out during lunch."

"Aww, you don't have to, I'm sure I can track him down."

"I know, but I want to, I haven't seen you in weeks."

"Liar, your room is right next to mine."

"Alright, I haven't shared air with you in weeks."

"Oh, you're so clingy." She wrapped her arms back around his torso and nuzzled on his shoulder. "It's cute."

"Aww, you two are so adorable!" Trix chirped a little too loudly. Not a moment sooner, the librarian reared her head.

"That's it, you three out!" The librarian pointed her finger to the exit. "I don't want to see either of you in here for the rest of the day."

Face flushed, Owen started packing up his things as he nervously mumbled apologies to the librarian. Trix pouted as she slipped her other backpack strap through her shoulder. Ophelia rolled her eyes and shot up from her seat, waiting for Owen to finish packing his stuff, grumbling her own, less sincere apologies in the librarian's general direction.


"Poindexter!"

Ophelia was able to track down Poindexter's psyche to the school's basement. Not many of the living kids ever went down there, particularly the freshmen like her. The upperclassman would spread rumors of a former teacher who would murder their students and leave their dismembered bodies in the basement. Ophelia knew that it was total bull, though it was hard to ignore the faint odor of spoiled meat.

"Sidney, I need to talk to you, I know you're here."

There was a faint blur of grey light between boxes of old textbooks. Another second, the grey blur bounced in front of her and took the form of Sidney Poindexter.

"Ophelia Fenton?" Poindexter said, a mix of confusion and relief. "When have you been back?"

"I started today," Ophelia said, "Look, I know you've been asking my friends how I've been doing. If you want to see if I'm okay, you can just ask."

Bashful, Poindexter muttered, "You weren't here, and I thought it would be weird to come to your house and ask."

"And you're scared of my dad." She didn't need insight to know that.

"'Scared' is a pretty strong word-"

"And accurate."

"Not that accurate. I've known your dad since he just started building his reputation in the Ghost Zone. He had nowhere near as good a handle on his powers at your age as you do. It's hard to see someone as a Superman when you saw him growing up as Clark Kent."

"Wait, wasn't Clark Kent the persona he made up when he started out as a superhero?"

Poindexter rolled his eyes.

"Of course, I shouldn't expect a girl to know anything about comic books."

"Hey, watch it! This ain't the fifties anymore, just because I don't know about your mainstream garbage doesn't mean you get to bash my gender."

She threw in a flash of her eyes as a warning, which was enough to make Poindexter back up and put his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, gee whiz, I'm sorry." He paused and added, "You know, you really are your mother's daughter."

"I get that a lot." She took a breath. "I came here so you would see that I'm fine and stop sending people to check on me. I'm fine, don't send people to check on me." She turned on the heel of her boot and waved behind her. "Catch you later."

"Wait!"

Ophelia made about five paces before Poindexter zipped in front of her.

"Since you're down here…can I get your help on something?"

"If it involves a 'feminine touch', you're better off asking my friend Abi."

"No, no, not that, it's…I'm not sure how to explain. So, I've seen that you're pretty intuitive with people. There's this one senior who's been acting…different…the past few months. I don't mean moody teenager different, either. I mean something really bad happened to her different."

"I don't think it's my place to interfere with someone else's issues. They're not even in my grade, I probably don't even know this kid."

"Her name is Courtney Sinclair."

"Hard pass."

"Wait, why not? Do you know her?"

Ophelia rolled her eyes.

"Not personally, per se, but we did date the same guy…at the same time." She shrugged and walked through Poindexter. "It's not her fault, but I don't think I can be a hundred percent unbiased on this. Why don't you ask the guidance counselor? You know, the person who's actually trained and paid to talk to kids about their problems?"

"I don't trust those shrinks, they didn't help me when I was being bullied, and your father didn't get any help at your age."

"Times have changed, people actually give a damn when kids get picked on. I've got my own problems to work on, and I assure you whatever Courtney's going through is way above my paygrade."

"Just talk to her. If you don't think you can handle it, you can tell the counselor."

Ophelia stared Poindexter down for a moment. He seems really concerned for Courtney. What could he be worried about? It couldn't be as bad as watching your tormentor get away with murder.

With a roll of her eyes, Ophelia replied. "Fine, I'll go see her. And once I do, you'll have to drop it, okay?"

Sidney smiled.

"Thank you, you don't know what this means to me."

She knew exactly what it meant to him, but hid with a shrug and a grumbled, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don't bother me anymore."


Danny found Sam in the kitchen, unloading the last of the groceries and tucking away the tote bags in their designated cabinet. She was deep in her own thoughts. She didn't even show any notice of Danny's presence until he called her name.

"Oh, hey," Sam mumbled in response.

"How was your talk with the principle and Dash?"

"They put up the usual wall of b.s. to excuse themselves for keeping Ophelia out of school, but it wasn't too hard to knock down. She'll have to make up a few tests and do a second tryout to stay on the track team, but other than that it'll be like she was never out. At least, on paper it will be like that."

"That's good I guess…" Danny couldn't think of anything to say. All he saw was the troubled look on his wife's face. "Are you doing alright?"

Sam looked at him before staring down at her hands, curled up against the cold granite countertop.

"Do you think I did the right thing making Ophelia testify?"

Danny felt a pang in his stomach.

"Why do you ask?"

"I thought…all the witnesses I've worked with, all those victims, they seemed better off testifying against their offenders. But I can't stop thinking of that pain in Ophelia's eyes when she was on the stand, that fear. I can only imagine what she saw coming from Vlad."

"You didn't make her testify in person, she chose to opt out of a video testimony."

Sam smiled a little.

"She wanted to be brave for us, but she wouldn't have to make that choice if I didn't push her. I made her relive that nightmare and for what? Vlad got to retraumatize our daughter."

Sam leaned over the counter, propping up her head with her elbows and burying her face in her hands. Danny was quick to rush to her side, gently slipping his arms around her shoulders.

"You can't beat yourself up about it. This was a bad situation. There was no good option here and, honestly, I think you picked the better one."

Sam curled her fingers around her temples. She didn't look like she was about to cry, it was much worse than that. She looked defeated.

"I just wish for our family to be at peace. After everything we've sacrificed, I think we deserve that much. I think you especially deserve it, you gave your life for us."

Instinctively, Danny shot a hand over his heart. He had a few layers on so he couldn't feel the scar underneath, but he knew it well enough. He and Sam have traced their fingers over the baseball-sized mass of knotted tissue over the past fourteen years to know the shape by heart. It was the only scar his body has allowed him to keep. Sam liked to think of it as a reminder of how lucky he is to still be alive, sometimes even joking that it was the price he has to pay for never having to worry about wrinkles. Danny wished he could feel as optimistic, but all he could think of when feeling the scar was the oblivion he narrowly escaped, and the buried fear of someday returning to it.

"I'd give anything for peace of mind," Danny said, his fingers curling over his chest. "But I'll settle for safety. Vlad is going to be put away for at least a lifetime, and once Tucker finds a way to contain Pariah Dark the Ghost Zone will be safe again. Maybe when all the threats are no longer looming over us, maybe we can heal."

Sam looked over and gave Danny a half-hearted smile. She turned around and put her hand over his scar, rubbing her thumb over the hand that was already there.

"I hope so."


"You sure this is where she hangs out during lunch?"

"I'm sure," Trix said, "This is where the seniors eat lunch. I sometimes come here when I'm not eating with you guys."

The school auditorium was filled with what appeared to be the entire twelfth grade. The larger number of seniors where sitting in the front row, or generally staying close to the stage. The kids further up in the social hierarchy were on the stage, sitting on dusty furniture salvaged from the prop room backstage.

"I don't see Courtney anywhere." Ophelia said, still scanning the room to see if she can prove herself wrong.

"She's probably in the green room." Abi said, "Trisha Kim is the student director in the theatre department, she usually invites her friends into the green room during lunch."

"And I'm guessing Courtney is one of those friends?"

"Last I heard she is."

Ophelia walked through the aisles, ignoring the stares she was getting from the older kids. Trix walked beside her, with Abi following hesitantly behind. Ophelia stopped and looked over to Abi.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just…it doesn't feel right for two freshmen to stomp into senior territory like they own the place."

"Oh come on, Abi, I don't think anybody cares."

"Hey, who broke the babies out of daycare!"

"Except maybe that guy."

They found the source of the voice to a group of boys toward the very end of the aisle. Trix shot them a glare, but the other boys were already elbowing the offender.

"Shut up, Dustin, that's the Phantom kid. Do you want her dad to murder us?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ophelia shouted, her eyes flashing bright enough to light up half the auditorium. There was silence at the end of the aisle.

Certain that nobody else was going to say anything, Ophelia stomped off to the stairs on the side of the stage and disappeared backstage. Trix and Abi did their best to follow after her.

Backstage wasn't very big, but there was enough space to keep a few crates of costumes and props and couches that were so beyond their prime that could not have been used in any plays in the past few years. These were filled with more seniors, talking and playing with a few unpackaged props. Ophelia recognized them from waiting for Em to come out of of Drama Club. The green room was to the right of the backstage exit. The door was open just a crack and she took a peek inside.

Ophelia saw a group of about six girls and maybe two or three guys. They were eating from takeout boxes, most likely one of them went off campus before lunch period. Her attention turned to a girl sitting on the ground, her back against the end of a green chaise longue. She was wearing a bright green spandex crop top and burgundy skirt, with black lace stockings and boots. Her hair was two toned with one side light blonde with pink streaks and the other side a dark blonde with green streaks. Something about her seemed familiar and she wasn't sure what.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a girl which Ophelia quickly identified as Trisha Kim stared her down.

"What are you doing here, freshman?" She demanded coldly.

"I-um, I'm looking for Courtney Sinclair. I heard she would be here."

At the sound of the name, the two-toned girl looked up, lo mein noodles hanging out of her mouth. As soon as she met eyes with Ophelia, she gave her a cold glare with her blue-green eyes while slurping up the noodles. She put the box down and got up.

"Ugh, it's you." Said the two-toned girl. "What? Did I steal another one of your boyfriends?"

Ophelia stared at the girl confused.

"What? Who are you?"

"I'm Courtney," the two-toned girl growled, "You probably don't remember me without a box to shove into my face."

"But you're not…" Ophelia's eyes widened, "Ohh, oh, um, yeah, sorry, I-uh had a hard time recognizing you. You did something to your hair, right?"

"What do you want, Phantom?"

"Oh, um, Poindexter wanted me to check on you. He thinks you've been going through something."

"I lost my virginity to a guy only to find out I was a side piece to a pedophile, does that qualify as 'going through something'?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course, that's what I thought. Well, okay, so I did my part, I'll go tell him and leave you guys alone forever now. Byyyeee."

With that, Ophelia turned on her heel and speed-walked out of the backstage area, both embarrassed, shocked, and transparent. She hardly even noticed Trix and Abi when she passed right by them at the exit.

"How did it go?" Abi asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." Ophelia sputtered out, flustered.

"Why, what happened," Trix said, worried, "Did she say something? Do I need to go talk to her?"

"No, no, no, it's fine, I mean she was kind of mean, but it's fine. Peachy even. Can we just not talk about it and go meet up with the others?"

Abi stood in Ophelia's path. Ophelia phased through her just to bump into Trix.

"We're not going anywhere until you tell us what's going on."

Ophelia pursed her lips. As nice as it was to have friends to look out for her, she was not in the mood. Her eyes flashed angrily.

"Then I'm leaving alone."

And with that she evaporated in a dissolve of green mist. Abi and Trix were left to stare at the empty space their exhausting friend had stood.

"I hate when she does that." Abi grumbled.

"Diddo" Trix replied.


Ophelia chose to eat by herself for the rest of lunch, she didn't feel like she could face her friends. She remained quiet for the rest of the school day, trying to ignore the sad and scared glances in her direction and nodding politely when her teachers would stop her on the way out of their classrooms to give her their sympathies. She had just finished her last class of the day and was heading to the gym when she heard someone call to her.

"Hey, Phantom!"

Ophelia was going to ignore it, but she immediately turned around when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Courtney, looking much less mean than she did in the green room. As soon as their eyes met, Courtney looked down and crossed her arms.

"Look, I'm sorry I was rude to you during lunch. I know it's not your fault, but I'm still not completely over the whole thing with Richard. And with that whole thing with the Plasmius trial, you don't need me to be a bitch to you."

It was Ophelia's turn to look away, holding up a hand daintily.

"It's fine, don't worry about it…"

Ophelia wanted to walk away then and there, she knew she should just walk away, but she couldn't make herself move. Not unless she asked.

"What happened to the real Courtney Sinclair?"

Courtney's eyes went wide. She looked like she crashed her own funeral.

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"I know what you are. You're not the same girl who made out with my boyfriend. You're a ch-"

Courtney covered Ophelia's mouth.

"Shhh, not so loud!"

For a moment, Ophelia forgot she was in a busy hallway. Ophelia pulled Courtney's hand off her mouth.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone, I know a little about how these things work. I just want to know what happened to the original Courtney Sinclair."

Courtney took her hand back, even more nervous than before.

"How did you spot me? Again! We can't be detected by machines, there's no way your stupid ghost sense-"

"Wait, wait, wait, back up. 'Again'?" The realization sparked to life like a firecracker. No wonder she felt so familiar. "Oh my god, Portia?"

Courtney – or was it Portia – once again covered Ophelia's mouth.

"Shut up, that's not my name anymore! I'm Courtney now."

"But what are you doing here? What happened to the real Courtney?"

Courtney/Portia gave her an unfriendly glare that quickly crumbled into a look of defeat. She sighed and took her hand off Ophelia's mouth.

"This isn't a good time, or place. Can you get to the park by midnight?"

"I might, my parents are very attentive to me lately, for obvious reasons, so it'll be tricky."

"Well try. Meet me at the fountain and I'll explain. Okay?"

"Okay, but you better not try to murder me."

"It has come across my mind but trust me, that would be way more trouble than it's worth."


Jazz made it to the front of the school about half an hour after she got the text from Ophelia, letting her know that she was done with her tryouts. She was only behind a few minivans of parents who must also be waiting for their kids to come out of afterschool practice.

It took a minute to comb through the crowd of teenagers but eventually she found her niece on the front steps, having what must be an unpleasant conversation with a familiar-looking man.

Jazz beeped her horn twice, to let Ophelia know she was there. It was only a split second after the made the second beep that she realized that that may not have been a great thing to do, seeing everyone on the lawn turned their heads to her. Ophelia spotted her, and Jazz could see that Ophelia was losing a bit of opacity when she saw everyone stare at Jazz. Ophelia said something to the man and quickly walked to the backseat of Jazz's car.

"Drive" Ophelia said.

"Who's that guy you were talking to?" Jazz said, staring at her niece through the rearview mirror.

"That's the coach. You don't need to talk to him, let's go-"

"Jasmine Fenton, is that you?"

Jazz look over to her passenger side window. Now that she was closer, the coach looked a little more familiar to her. She just couldn't put her finger on the name.

"Um, yes? Have we met?"

"It's me, Dash Baxter. You remember, captain of the JV and Varsity football team? You tutored me in math in 9th grade?"

It still didn't quite hit Jazz who Dash was, but the look he was giving her gave her an aggravated feeling that she knew she felt before. She smiled and nodded politely.

"Oh, yeah, Baxter…nice to see you again…so you're the P.E. teacher here?"

"And the coach, best this school has ever had if I do say so myself. Football team has won the state championship five years in a row."

"That's nice…"

"The years seemed to have treated you very well. I was wondering why this one was getting into a supermodel's car."

"Aunt Jazz," a voice said from the backseat. "Didn't Dad want us back home as soon as possible? Something about patent forms for FentonWorks?"

Bless that child.

"Oh yeah, right, thank you Wispy. Sorry, Baxter I've got to go."

Baxter looked disappointed, if not a little suspicious, but he submitted and leaned away from her window.

"No worries, maybe we can meet up later. Maybe catch up over a cup of coffee?"

"Sorry, I'm busy that day."

Jazz drove off before Baxter could get another word out. Now Jazz remembered who he was. She let out a sigh of relief for how close a call that was.

"Thanks for that, I forgot about that jerk."

"Why did you call me Wispy?" Ophelia said, fading back into view.

"What do you mean? Everyone called you that when you were a baby."

"Key word there being 'baby'. I'm a teenager."

"That may be true," As soon as she braked for a red light, she turned over to Ophelia and pinched her cheek. "but you'll always be a will o' wisp to me."

Ophelia swatted Jazz's hand away, but Jazz saw that smile.

"You're more embarrassing than Dad."

"I'll wear that as a badge of honor."

Ophelia gave Jazz one more smirk before staring out the window. Her smile disappeared fast, losing herself to what must be a troubling thought. Jazz was always taken aback at how much Ophelia look so much like Danny at that age, especially with that perturbed look they share.

"Something happened at school today?"

"I can't talk about it."

"You know you can tell me anything."

"Yeah, but it's not my problem to tell."

"Just tell me, is it a high school problem or a problem that might need police involvement?"

"I don't know yet. All I know is that if I tell anyone I might risk somebody's life, and I may not be exaggerating."

"Do you want to tell your parents?"

Ophelia twisted in her seat until her back was facing the door and she was hugging her knees.

"No," She grumbled into the back of the seat. "I don't know if this is the kind of thing I can tell them. They might get carried away and make things worse."

"Like when your mom made you testify?"

Jazz could see a flash of green over her shoulder.

"I'm not your patient, Aunt Jazz, and I've already got a therapist. Can you just talk to me like a regular aunt? Pretend to be cool or whatever?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that."

"I know but it's still really annoying," Ophelia curled back towards the seat. "And I'm not mad at Mom, for the record, I'm not mad at anybody."

"You know it's okay to be mad, right? Nobody's going to hate you for having emotions- That was Aunt Jazz talking, not Dr. Fenton."

"I'm not mad at anyone." Ophelia repeated before falling silent. Jazz knew that that was partially true. She wasn't mad at anyone.

"Whatever you're going through, whatever you're feeling, just know we're all here for you. Me, your mother, your father, Valerie, Tucker, we're all here to help if you need anything, even if it's just to talk. And don't worry, I'll make sure to keep your parents from going overboard."

"Right now, I just want to be left alone. Can you just get Mom and Dad to give me some space, please?"

"I'll do my best."


The rest of the day was thick with an awkward tension. Hardly any words were spoken at dinner, clearly to avoid the subject that had been ever present in the past few weeks. Thankfully, everyone gave Ophelia space and she went straight to her room without any interruption. When night came, Ophelia was certain that Mom and Aunt Jazz were asleep, and that Dad was still out on patrol. For safety, however, she left a duplicate in her bed before leaving for the park. She didn't think anything was going to happen, or at least nothing that she couldn't handle, but just to be safe she sent Owen a text to check into her window every half hour until she came back to make sure that her duplicate was still there.

Despite getting to the fountain a few minutes early, Ophelia saw Portia already there waiting for her. She looked more nervous than Ophelia felt, which Ophelia wasn't sure was a good or bad sign.

"Okay, I'm here," Ophelia said, "what's going on?"

Portia's eyes darted around and set on Ophelia.

"Follow me," She motioned to a pathway that led to a thick cluster of trees. Ophelia didn't move.

"Why can't you tell me here?"

"He said if you asked questions that I should just take you there."

"Who said? Take me where? I've got zero patience for this cloak and dagger nonsense or whatever you want to call it."

Portia turned back to her. Hey eyes were pleading, there was genuine fear and sadness behind them.

"Please, just let me show you. I don't want to say it."

Ophelia was about to protest got caught in her throat. Portia was scared. Ophelia shifted her eyes down guiltily.

"Okay, fine, lead the way."

Portia smiled her gratitude. She turned back and walked down the path. Ophelia followed two paces behind. They kept walking for what must have been a mile before Portia lead Ophelia off the concrete path. There were so many trees that Ophelia wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep track of Portia if it wasn't for her insight, especially at the pace Portia was going. She must really want to get this over with, whatever this is. Or maybe she was trying to shake Ophelia off her tail. Eventually Portia stopped far away from the reach of the streetlamps. Ophelia formed a ball of light in her hand. It was a clearing of trees about the size of a walk-in closet. On the lower limbs of the trees were remains of candles, burned to the wick with wax drippings down the side of the trunk.

"They had their first…meeting here," Portia said, "I see her memories. It was maybe the third or fourth date, he surprised her with a candlelit picnic. He said he stole some wine from his parents' cellar, really good stuff too. At least to her it was, she doesn't have much of a reference. He told her he loved her, that he never met anyone like her. She ate it up, and one thing lead to another…"

Ophelia blushed and took a step back.

"Why did you take me here?"

"Because this is where he lured her out."

Portia knelt down to a patch of grass in the middle of the clearing. It was a dark brown color which Ophelia mistook it for bare earth. It didn't look burned and it was too dark to be dead grass. Ophelia felt a pang in her chest.

"This is where it happened." Portia said.

Ophelia nodded. Gingerly, she knelt down and touched the grass. Instantly, she had an image.

A boy lit a cluster of candles in a tree. Ophelia felt a pang of dread when she recognized him. Why did he look older? Portia was hidden behind the tree, with the darker complexion and short curls she had when Ophelia first met her. The two fell silent when there was a call from the other side of the clearing, towards the path.
Courtney, the real Courtney, emerged out of the darkness. She didn't have the streaks of color or the two tones, only dirt blonde hair and a displeased expression.
"Well, Richard," Courtney said with arms crossed, "You better have a good reason to want to meet me in the dead of night, you two-timing cradle robber."
"I want to apologize for what happened the other day with the Fenton girl," Richard said, with nothing but sweet kindness in his voice. "I should have broken it off with her when I met you, but I didn't want to hurt her. She's so small, I was her first relationship, I had to find a way to break it to her gently."
"You missed your chance to break it to her gently and I wound up being humiliated in front of the whole school as a result. And when were you planning on breaking it to me that you were seeing a toddler?"
"I'm sorry, I messed up. I never wanted to hurt anyone, but I wound up hurting everyone. I don't deserve any kindness from anyone as good as you."
"You're damn right, you don't"
"But I never lied about how I felt. I didn't know what falling in love was like before I met you. You brought light into my dark, bleak world, and I don't think I'll be able to live without that light."
As he spoke, he walked slowly towards Courtney. He got to her side and began to wrap him arms around her, meeting little resistance. Courtney relaxed into his touch. She looked like she was falling into a haze.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," He kissed her neck, "and if we have to leave all of this behind then so be it."
Courtney's eyes widened. She snapped back into focus. She pulled away from him and turned to face him.
"Wait, what are you talking about?"
"Run away with me. We can start a new life together in a new town. A great big city, wherever you want, as long as you have me."
"Are you crazy? I'm not going to just drop everything to run off with you!"
With precision, Richard's face melted into a pitiable look of confusion.
"Why not, you're going to leave town anyway to go to college. Why not get a head start on the whole thing?"
"You're telling me to drop out of school before I even finished submitting all my applications. You're telling me to ditch my friends and family and everything else I care about so I can go ride off into the sunset with a guy who used me to cheat on a child. I'm sorry but I can't do that."
All softness left Richard's face.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I guess this is the end for us then, huh? Can I at least get one last hug goodbye?"
Courtney stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She may be disgusted by him but the request for such a small gesture touched her a little. With minimal enthusiasm, she opened up her arms. Richard was quick to wrap his arms around her one last time
"I will always love you." He whispered in her ear.
Pain shot into Courtney's eyes, making them wide. There was a muffled scream, but it didn't come from Courtney. Only choked gurgles came from her mouth. Richard let her go and she collapsed onto the ground. He had a knife in his hand, dripping red. He knelt down to her face. He pulled the lids over the girl's empty eyes. He gave her a kiss on her forehead and stroked her cheek.
"You can come out now, dear." He called out.
Portia dragged herself out from behind the tree. Her color was gone and there were tears in her eyes. The look of horror was unmistakable.
"You didn't say anything about killing her," Portia screeched.
"She made her choice. Now go on, do whatever you changelings do."
Portia clung to the tree behind her, refusing to move an inch. Richard did not look pleased.
"Oh, come on, don't tell me you're backing out? I told you I would find a life for you and I delivered. It's not my fault you didn't specify how you wanted to get a life."
"Obviously I didn't want you to murder anyone!"
"What difference does that make? A body is a body, a life is a life. Death isn't anything new to you, certainly."
Richard walked over and pulled Portia up to her feet. She let out a small squeak as soon as Richard made contact.
"Look, you can be scared of me all you want, you can cry for the girl all you want, but there's no point in wasting a good life. The girl is months away from her eighteenth birthday, this is the closest you've ever gotten to aging out. Are you really going to pass this up because of some silly moral qualms?"
Portia was less rigid and more conflicted. She looked at the girl on the ground. There was a strange conflict of emotions. It was like a winning lottery ticket in a mouse trap. After a few minutes, Portia walked over and knelt to the body. The moment she touched the body, she was enveloped in a blinding light. The light leaked its way towards the body, swallowing it like a python. Once the body was completely absorbed, Portia glowed brighter. Finally, the light faded away. Where Portia stood was an identical copy of Courtney. The body was gone, the only indication that it was ever there was a red stain in the grass.

Ophelia shot her hand back violently, knocking her on her butt. She gasped, suddenly short on breath. She felt warm tears roll down her cheeks, everything was cold. Ophelia curled into herself, staring out at nothing.

"He killed her, just like that." She mumbled.

"I swear, I didn't know he would do that." Portia whimpered. "I thought he found a way to make me human and give me an alias. I wouldn't have agreed to go with him if I had known."

"But you took her place…"

"You don't know how many times I've gone through this, how many families I've lost. I just want to grow up and have a full life, I can't do that as a ghost. Plus, think of Courtney's family. Think of how heartbroken they'd be if they knew that she was murdered. I couldn't save her, I can at least live for her."

"Why would he do that? Why you?"

Ophelia flinched when Portia put a hand on her shoulder. She shot up into the air and floated back.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you? This might be my only chance to age out. I can't keep doing this anymore, Ophelia, I just can't."

Ophelia floated further away, above the tree line. Portia became frantic. She was crying now.

"Ophelia please, you have to tell me that you won't say anything. Please!"

Ophelia wanted to say something, but no sounds came out. Instead she turned and flew way, letting Portia's screams fade away with distance.


"Are you sure you're okay to do this?"

"I don't know if I am, but I need to talk to him."

The first thing Ophelia did the following morning was call Auntie Val to see if she could get her a visit to the prison. Auntie Val managed to get her in, but insisted she go with her. Her parents may not have to know, but someone has to make sure she stayed out of trouble. At the moment, the two were waiting to be lead into the room to meet with the prisoner they came for. Ophelia was fidgeting with the inhibitor cuff the corrections officers put on her and Auntie Val was trying her best to calm her nerves.

"I'm not sure I'm okay with you talking to a convicted felon alone," Auntie Val said, in her warm but strict motherly tone. "Especially one you have a history with."

"I need to talk to him alone," Ophelia said, "If anyone else hears what we have to talk about, it will jeopardize someone's well-being, and I don't know if I want to do that yet."

"Well, if you need any help be sure to call for the guards outside. I'll be close by."

"Thanks,"

"Be careful, just because he's restrained doesn't mean you can provoke him."

"I know"

Auntie Val gave her a smile and a pat on her back.

"You're very brave doing this."

Ophelia smiled sheepishly.

"Thanks, Auntie Val."

Auntie Val gave Ophelia a hug, just as the corrections officer called Ophelia in. Nervous, Ophelia followed the officer into a room with a table. She took a seat on the side opposite the mechanism used to hold the restraints in place. Ophelia took the couple minutes of solitude to breathe deeply.

You can do this.

The doors opened. Two human guards came in, with Richard Waltz standing between them. He looked different, Ophelia thought, he looked older. Maybe it was the prison uniform, she convinced herself, it made him look less innocent at the very least. Ophelia stayed silent as the guards locked Richard's restraints into place. She made the mistake of meeting his eyes, which were staring at her intently, hungrily. She didn't want to break away, knowing that would be taken as a sign of weakness, so she forced herself to stare him down and try not to squirm.

After the guards told Ophelia pretty much the same thing Auntie Val did, they left the room. Richard smiled a big, unsettling grin.

"Ah, my angel," he greeted, "You are more beautiful than I recalled. What brings you here from heaven?"

"I saw Portia," Ophelia said in a flat, even tone, "I know everything."

His grin grew wider and more mocking.

"You do, do you? Took you long enough, I expected to see you a lot earlier. I guess I was a little too good at picking a girl from different circles."

"Why did you kill Courtney? She didn't do anything to you."

Richard shrugged.

"She ruined my relationship with you, which got me in trouble with my boss, and worse than that she wouldn't go with me. She said she loved me, and she wouldn't prove it when I gave her the chance."

Ophelia pulled back in disgust. Richard said it so matter-of-fact. There wasn't a hint of remorse or even of pride. He was indifferent to murder.

"She didn't ruin our relationship, you did. And if that's what you were upset about, why didn't you kill me?"

"Well for one, Plasmius would never let me kill you even if I wanted to. The other reason is that I have standards. I don't kill the pure."

"You say that as if you've done that before."

"Ophelia, I have been around for over two hundred years. Do you really think you are the first heart I've broken?"

Ophelia shook her head. Richard looked a little bored and continued.

"They always say that they love me with all my heart, but when put to the test hardly any of them would go with me. They're more than willing to give up their bodies but they weren't able to give up their lives of comfort."

Ophelia put her hands up as a gesture for him to cease.

"I don't want to hear this. Why did you make Portia take Courtney's place?"

"Insurance. You told me about Portia the first day I met you, remember? About how you and Trix got her taken back by the Agency? I thought you would be less inclined to ruin her chance again, no matter how she got it."

Ophelia's fingers curled into fists.

"That is messed up."

"Is that so? Well then, you can always report us. I'm already in prison so all I'll get is an extended sentence. Portia will get taken back by the Agency, and Courtney's parents will be notified that their daughter is dead. Well, they can give them some good news, at least there isn't a body for them to go through the trouble of burying."

Ophelia was silent, her fingers uncurled slightly. Richard leaned back into his seat as far as his cuffs would allow.

"Yeah, it's not that simple, is it?" he taunted, "I'll admit, what I did is unsavory, but is it really hurting anyone leaving things the way they are?"

"What about Courtney? Doesn't she deserve justice?"

"Ah, that pretty word you goody two-shoe types love so much. If she takes issue with it, she can rat us out herself, if she ever made it to our side of the fence. I don't see why you're getting yourself so wound up over this. If I recall, you don't like worrying about things that aren't your problem."

Ophelia crossed her arms and turned away.

"You're a monster, what did I ever see in you?"

"What I wanted you to see." Richard said plainly. His eyes were looking her over. "You know, out of all the girls I have dated, you're my favorite. You want to know why?" Ophelia said nothing, so he continued, "For one, your devotion was genuine. It may be the only time I was absolutely certain a girl loved me. If I asked, you would've done anything for me…you know what Plasmius' plan was? Why he sent me to you? He didn't expect you to fall for me, but he did want you to trust me. He wanted you to trust me so much that you would believe anything I told you. He wanted me to alienate you from your friends, your family, to a point where if I asked you to run away, you would not hesitate-"

"I don't want to hear this!" Ophelia screeched.

"If you insist, that old man isn't a particularly fond subject for me, either."

Ophelia got up from her seat and turned towards the door.

"I'm done here."

"Sit down." Richard's voice was harsh and cold, like Ophelia has never heard before. It should have terrified her, but instead it enraged her. Her eyes flashed.

"Excuse me? You do not get to tell me what to do."

"I'm not done talking to you, angel."

"Do not call me angel!"

Ophelia kicked the chair from under him. He fell to the floor, arms over stretched where they were still strapped to the table.

"I am sick of you amoral psychopaths getting away with everything! If you weren't already dead, I'd kill you myself!"

She was about to kick Richard in the head when she was pulled away. She didn't realize that the guards were in the room.

"Okay, kid, visit's over." The guard told her while he carried her away.

Ophelia growled. She glared at Richard as the other guard pulled him up to his feet. He was smiling at her, as if this were some sort of victory for him. If she wasn't wearing an inhibitor cuff, she would've shot him.


Sam saw Valerie's car pull into the curb in front of her house. Ophelia hopped out of the backseat and walked to the door with her eyes glued to the ground. She must have felt Sam glaring at her from the living room window.

"Where have you been?" Sam said as soon as the door clicked open. "You were supposed to be home hours ago. Why won't you let Valerie tell me where she took you? I know you snuck out last night, too. Don't think that duplicate fooled me-"

Sam stopped her rant when she felt Ophelia's arms around her waist. Her collar bones felt wet where her daughter's eyes pressed against her blouse. Stunned, Sam rested her hands on Ophelia's shoulders.

"Sweetie, are you okay?"

"No," Ophelia mumbled into her blouse. "I'm not okay. Nothing has been okay since the trial."

"Oh baby"

Sam hugged her back. Her eyes started to burn.

"I was so mad that they didn't believe me. It hurt so much, Mommy."

"I know it hurts, I'm so sorry I put you through that."

"Don't be."

Sam pulled away to look at her daughter, confused.

"What?"

Ophelia sniffled, trying to smile. She looked so pitiful, even with the mascara running down her cheeks.

"You were right, it was good for me to tell my story. At least people know what happened to me and Grandma and Grandpa, even if some of them don't believe me. I don't have this buried in me forever."

She went back to hugging Sam. Sam stroked her hair, as best she could to soothe her.

"I still shouldn't have pushed you like that. I was so focused on getting a guilty verdict, I didn't take your feelings into account I'm sorry."

Before she knew it, Sam started crying too. Neither mother nor daughter could hold it in anymore, there was too much pain to hold back. They were on the floor crying in each other's arms. Sam spotted something on top of the stairs. Jazz was watching them. It was hard to make out her expression, but it seemed like she was at least relieved for them. They were finally letting it out.