"Man is sometimes extraordinarily, passionately, in love with suffering." - Fyodor Dostoevsky

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Aeron squinted at the imposing six-story building before him, silhouetted in the last rays of the setting sun. He kept a tight hold on Keala as strangers streamed out of the San Diego museum in front of him, anticipating closing time in twenty-five minutes. He didn't have much time.

Keeping his head down, Aeron shoved his way through the crowd, pulling Keala behind him. She didn't protest, sensing his urgency like a Danger signal. Now was not the time to interrupt. As they climbed the steps two at a time, a tall, elderly man wearing a coat and a hat several sizes too big grabbed Aeron's arm. Aeron jerked back and kicked at him, adrenaline pumping through his veins. But it was unnecessary. The old gentleman dodged the kick and, adjusting his over-large glasses, said kindly, "Whoa - no need for that, son. I was just going to tell you that the museum's closing soon. You won't have long to look around." His accent was strangely bitter as the words flowed over his tongue. .

"Thanks," Aeron muttered, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"My pleasure. Are you here with your parents?"

Aeron felt that his heart would beat through his chest. If this man found out that he was here without permission, and, worse, if Keala explained to him that they lived five hours away in Parker Dam and had taken a bus, again without his grandparents' knowledge...

He immediately clapped a hand over Keala's mouth before she could spill to the stranger. He felt her lips move against his hand and the heat of her glare against the back of his neck and decided that it was too dangerous to remain in the company of this overly-inquisitive stranger any longer.

"Yes. In fact, they're waiting for me right now, just inside the museum. It was nice to meet you!" With that, he hurried up the stairs and into the museum with Keala in tow, oblivious to the odd look the man was giving them.

"That wasn't very nice of you to lie…" Keala began to say as they entered the museum, but Aeron shushed her quickly. Something was off - he could feel it. Some sixth sense told him that something - or someone - wasn't supposed to be here who was.

"Keala, listen. I want you to stay close to me. Don't lag behind, and don't talk to strangers. This is going to be an in-and-out operation. Got it?" Aeron waited for Keala's nod, then took off, checking to make sure she stayed close behind him.

Aeron knew what he was looking for, just not where to find it. Ten days ago, he'd been sifting through the internet, continuing his constant search for a clue to his parents' whereabouts with the maddeningly vague key-word "Havenfield" when he happened to come across a random Twitter post by someone who had visited the San Diego museum. They had posted a picture of themselves with the skeleton of a T-rex. In the background there was etched into a brick the same word with the exact same lettering, "Havenfield." It could only be detected with a sharp eye, for it was hidden at an angle where the shadow of the wall would always fall on it. It couldn't just be a coincidence, Aeron was certain. There was some sort of clue there.

As Aeron hurtled through the maze-like corridors and passageways with Keala in tow, he felt a sort of pull in his gut - a vague sixth sense. He pushed it away - he needed to concentrate if he were to find this single display among hundreds.

Keala shuffled long-sufferingly behind him, not making a noise, but eventually her weariness began floating in waves off of her, puddling around her and coming to rest on Aeron, draining even his frenzied energy. He looked back at her. "I know it's long, Kal, but it'll be over soon." Looking down at his small cousin's bent frame, a sudden jolt of compassion overtook him and found him bending down to give her a piggy-back ride. "You alright there, Kal?" he asked, gently shaking her head into a more comfortable position. But Keala was already asleep.

Aeron bounced on the balls of his feet and craned his neck to look at a clock above him on the wall. 9:25, it read. Any calm he might've felt instantly dissipated. "Gah!"

"Five minutes 'til closing time. Please make your way to the exits immediately. Any persons found inside the museum after 9:30 will be left for the dinosaurs to eat." There was a crackle of static. "Just kidding." The announcer's mike made one long squealing noise, then there was silence.

And for what had to be the fiftieth time in twenty minutes, Aeron felt a tug in his gut, not unlike what happened when his abilities took hold of him. It was like a string, tied to him, was pulling him gently. He'd always ignored it before, consumed with his search. But now, as despair grasped for him, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath… and listened. Hiking his cousin into an easier position on his bony back, he started off in pursuit of the string's end.

Six minutes later, just as the security guards were beginning their rounds of the museum to gather up stray visitors, Aeron found himself in front of an old and rather dusty display of a t-rex. Then the pull vanished, and Aeron felt as empty as ever. But that familiar emptiness was replaced almost immediately with heart-wrenching anticipation as he sighted the word, inscribed into the corner of the brick wall. Setting Keala down gently on the tile floor, he ran his hands gently and reverently over the word in the wall. Havenfield. He wondered vaguely if perhaps it was his father's handwriting. He pulled at the brick, and felt it give slightly. His hopes rose in one huge rush of emotion and adrenaline. He tried to tease it further out of its socket; it would move no further. A sudden wave of uneasiness turned to panic as he heard a familiar voice:

"Aeron! What the heck-"

"Mommy!" Keala cried out suddenly. In a minute she was up and running toward the woman who had just called Aeron's name. Murmuring comforting words as she held her little girl in her arms, Keala's mother turned to Aeron with an unreadable expression on her face.

"No. No!" Aeron hissed, yanking wildly at the Havenfield brick. It wouldn't budge; he continued to hopelessly kick the wall. It was no use. The brick was simply, well… brick. Nothing else. Aeron leaned his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling his old familiar numbness overtake him.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him firmly back around. His aunt peered into his face for a moment before shaking her head and pulling back. "Aeron." She was visibly containing her anger, her face contorted with the effort. "Come on. We're leaving." She stooped to pick up Keala's alicorn backpack where it lay by the base of the display before turning and heading toward the exit.

"Aunt Amy, I-"

"Aeron, do not make me say it again."

Aeron dug his fingernails deeply into his palms, barely containing a scream; he knew any more protesting would be pointless. He followed her with all the reluctance in the world, his only thought that he was leaving behind his only link to his long-lost parents.