Author's Note: Keefe POV! The next chapter will be posted sometime. I don't know when. I'm kinda going through some stuff right now.

Basically, a year and a half ago, my best friend had a heart attack, caused by a congenital heart defect. He recovered, thankfully, but about a year ago he relapsed and went into a comatose state for a few weeks. He recovered from that, too. But doctors have been monitoring him, and they think he might be relapsing again now. He's on a bunch of medication and stuff, but it's not doing much.

I don't know when I'll update again. I have time to write, but I usually just end up staring at the computer screen for hours, not doing anything. I don't know why, but I have no motivation anymore. It sucks. I'll try to update sometime over the weekend, but I make no promises.

Thank you all so much for understanding! Please leave a review! Enjoy the chapter!

I can't do anything. My mother has me pinned in place telepathically, while she leads Sophie to the chair. Even if I could get free, there's nothing I could do. I thought the experiment would just be some generic telepathy exercises, but this is crazy.

I can feel the exact moment Sophie forces her way through my mother's shields and into her mind. I don't know how. I'm not a telepath, and yet it's like I can read her mind. No, it's not reading her mind. Not quite. It's sort of like I'm. . .

Seeing the world through her eyes, I suppose.

Which is funny, because right now, she's in my mother's head.

I'm unnerved by how my mother's mind looks. It's not what I expected, and yet it fits perfectly with her personality. I can see why it looks like that. I can also feel that we are trapped in here. I'm not sure how Sophie usually gets out of people's minds, but it isn't working. Sophie starts panicking, hunting for a way out.

I can see a way to escape. One of the framed memories on the wall in the warped ballroom is empty, and I feel a tug towards it. Sophie looks right past it. I try to talk to her, give her a signal to go there, but I can't. I am just a passenger.

I remember, a while ago, when Sophie showed me her notebook of projected memories. Maybe I can do that, too.

I try to think of something that will catch her eye— me. She's always felt the need to comfort me when I'm sad. I project an image of myself onto the empty frame. It works first try, and I'm not sure how. I feel her curiosity turn towards it.

Good.

She steps forward, reaching her arm out. Her fingers brush down the face of the projection, as if to wipe away my tears, and slide through. Then, she steps through it completely.

I'm back in the real world, and so is Sophie. Gisela is saying something about how Sophie should obey her, but Sophie's staring at me.

She knows I was there.

I don't know how, but I tagged along on her little telepathic journey.

Is this what my mother meant by seeing what Sophie can do? I'm certain that something like this has never been done before.

So, she really is capable of amazing things.

I already knew that.

She is, after all, Sophie Foster.