January 22nd, - January 24th, 2014

I walked out of the hangout room, and Nate was putting his coat on.

"Where you off to?" I asked.

Nate turned towards me. "I'm going into town to get an anti-possession tattoo and maybe a few other things. Wanna come?"

I chuckled. "Yeah. It's probably time I got one of those as well. Give me just a second."

I ran into our bedroom quickly and changed out of my lounging clothes. I came out, and Nate was gone.

"Looking for Nate?" Garth was sitting down and eating a sandwich.

"Uh, huh," I said.

"I think he left. Said something about going into town." Garth took a bite of his sandwich.

"Ugh. Seriously? I told him I'd only be a minute. He better not have left." I walked across the dining room and opened the door.

Nate was walking up the path towards me. He looked up.

"Jeez. Took ya long enough." He smiled.

"Maybe you're just impatient." I smirked.

Nate looked at his wrist and gestured towards it like he had a watch. "Gotta be to the shop in like twenty minutes."

"That's my fault you waited this long to leave?" I asked.

Nate laughed. "You were the one who challenged us to that last Mortal Kombat tournament that took literally two hours to finish."

I shrugged. "Neither of you hesitated to play. So… not my fault."

He just gave me a blank stare. "No time to argue about it. We gotta go." He turned and started walking towards the car.

Nate parked a block or so away from the tattoo parlor. We walked in, and everything seemed pretty normal.

A man was standing at the counter. "May I help you?"

Nate cleared his throat. "I'm here to see Inkzilla. I have an appointment."

The man looked down at the book in front of him. "Nate Harvelle?"

"Yup." Nate nodded.

"Stay here. I'll go get him." The man turned and walked into the back room of the parlor.

I laughed. "You booked an appointment with a guy named Inkzilla? Really?"

"He's supposed to be really good. I've been waiting six months for this appointment. I heard he does very exclusive work," Nate said.

"Why would you wait six months for an anti-possession tattoo? Give me ink and a needle, and I'll have it done in five minutes," I said.

"Sorry to interrupt, couldn't help but overhear," a man with slicked-back hair said from behind the counter." "I'll have you know that tattooing is a delicate art. Not just anyone off the street can pick up a gun and 'have it done.'"

"Oh." I chuckled awkwardly. "I wasn't saying anyone could do it. I'm just saying for what he needs done, he didn't have to wait six months."

The man nodded. "Oh, right, right. I'm not seeing the contradistinction. My clients wait months to see me, and if you think you can even come close to my artistry just by walking in off the streets, then quite frankly, you can just get out."

"Okay, I wasn't trying to offend anyone. He just needs a simple tattoo for a practical reason. I'm not saying I can just stroll in here and throw a masterpiece on him. I'm talking simple lines and circles. That's it," I said, trying to defend myself while feeling like I was just digging a deeper hole.

"Your perception of reality is humorlessly misguided. You think it's easy to pull smooth lines and perfect circles?" he asked angrily.

Nate stepped between us and put his hands up. "Okay, everyone. Let's get along now." He turned to Inkzilla. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Inkzilla. My name is Nate, and I have an appointment with you."

Inkzilla gave me a bit of a stink eye. "Follow me."

He turned and walked into the backroom, and Nate followed.

We followed him into a small room. Hanging on the walls were pictures of the most simplistic tattoos I had ever seen. Very simple stick figures, shapes, and smiley faces. No shading or fill. Sometimes a little color, but mostly just singular lines.

I looked at Inkzilla. "So this is your art?"

"Some call it that. To me, they're my expression of soul," he said.

I nodded, unimpressed. "Oh, wow." I turned to Nate. "I'm gonna go see if someone can do mine."

Inkzilla laughed. "A walk-in? How trite."

"If anything here is 'trite,' it's definitely the 'expression of soul' plastered on these walls," I said.

"I need you to leave, please. You're negatively affecting my chi. I need to be balanced for my work, and you being here is making that paradoxical," Inkzilla massaged his temples.

I chuckled. "I don't think you know what that word means."

"I can't think straight. Please, go." Inkzilla gestured to the door.

I turned to Nate. "Good luck."

Then I kissed him and left the room to find someone normal to work with.

Nate and I got into his car about two hours later.

"You really waited six months to get that from a pretentious douchebag whose prized masterpieces are literal stick figures?" I asked.

Nate shrugged. "I mean, he got it done, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, the woman who worked on me did it in the quarter of the time it took your guy, and it looks the same if not better."

Nate sighed and started to pull away from the shop. "Yeah. The bright side is, I now have a killer lasagna recipe."

I frowned and furrowed my brow at him. "What?"

"Inkzilla spent most of the time going into excruciating detail about his mom's lasagna recipe," Nate said.

"Ugh, that guy was awful. Never go back to him again," I said.

Nate cringed. "I booked an appointment for three months from now."

"What? Why?" I asked, shocked.

He shrugged. "I just really connected with his art, ya know?"

I shook my head. "No, I really don't know."

"Not to mention, a second appointment might earn me his mom's pot roast recipe. He started talking about it but finished the tattoo before I could find out what specialty farm his mom orders the beef from," Nate said.

"Are you joking?" I asked. "I seriously can't tell."

"Yes." He chuckled. "Of course, I'm joking. That guy was the absolute worst."

Before leaving town, we stopped for lunch at a diner. While we were eating, Nate caught a news broadcast out of the corner of his eye. He said that the news anchor was talking about the death of a child in a local town. Apparently, it had been the third death of a child in that town within less than a month.

"This definitely sounds like our sort of thing," I said.

Nate nodded. "Yeah. I'll call Garth and have him do some research before we get back."

He stood up and walked away to a quiet spot to call Garth.

About a minute or two later, he came back, and we paid for the bill.

"Garth said that he'll get on it and see what he can find out," Nate said as we left the diner.

We both got into the car and started to drive out of town.

"Did the broadcast say anything else?" I asked.

Nate shook his head. "Not really. Just that it was the third death, and they all seemed to be fairly strange occurrences."

"I guess we'll just have to see what Garth can figure out and go from there," I said.

We walked into the cabin, and Nate tossed his coat onto the table.

"Find anything?" he called out to Garth.

Garth came around the corner with a stack of papers in his hand. "Not really. All I could find were the names of the kids who died recently. Not much other than that."

Nate and I looked at each other.

"I guess we better pack a bag and head out soon," Nate said.

I nodded and started to walk towards our room to gather my things.

"Whoa, hang on," Garth said, "Sam called."

I turned. "Okay…" I shook my head and shrugged. "What did he say?"

Garth sighed. "Well, he seemed pretty upset. He was just checking to see if I had seen or heard from you. He said that he's going to just let you do your thing, and you'll know where to find him if you need to."

I shrugged and nodded. "Okay."

Garth looked at me seriously. "Look, Maddi, I don't feel right about lying to him anymore."

"Well, it sounds like you don't really have to now," I said.

"D, you're not gonna call and just let him know you're okay?" Nate asked.

I nodded. "I will, but right now, we've got a case to work on."

"I don't know, Maddison." Garth shook his head. "It kinda sounded like he was saying goodbye without actually saying it."

"I know where to find him, and I've got his number," I said, "I'll give him a call after we've worked the job."

They both looked at me, unsure.

"I promise I will," I said.

Garth nodded. "Oh, one other thing. I haven't been able to find anything on Kevin. Not one little breadcrumb or piece of evidence. The only thing I can think to do is to summon a demon and try to find out what they know."

"If we're gonna do that, we might as well go for the big fish. We know Crowley took him. So, why don't we just cut out the middle and go right to the source?" I asked.

"Hold on. That seems like a huge risk. I'm not really sure we're up to something like that," Nate said.

I shrugged. "Well, if Kevin is still alive, he's been with Crowley for months. I don't want to begin to think about the stuff he is putting Kevin through to get the tablet translated. We can't waste our time talking to random demons who might not have a clue what Crowley is doing."

"If we're gonna do this, we need to make sure we are prepared," Garth said.

I nodded. "I agree. I think we need to get this done sooner rather than later. Kevin could be dead for all we know. And that would be my fault."

Nate sat down. "We've never done anything like this without Sam, Dean, or Bobby."

"So what? We've dealt with demons before. We've been trained by the best hunters any of us know. At some point, we have to step out of our comfort zone and face things we've never faced before," I said.

"Crowley's different, though. He's not just another demon. He's the King of Hell," Garth said.

I shrugged. "Well, I'm not afraid of him, and you guys shouldn't be either. But, if you don't feel comfortable dealing with him, I'll just do it by myself."

"I mean, yeah, we're uncomfortable, but that is the job." Nate looked at Garth and then back at me. "Obviously, we're not gonna let you deal with Crowley on your own. We just want to be cautious."

"We can talk about this more when you guys get back. In the meantime, I'll get things prepared and make sure we have what we need to bring Crowley here and get the answers we need," Garth said.

"Yeah, that's fine. Let's get our things and head out." I turned and walked into the room ahead of Nate.

We threw our things in a bag and walked back into the kitchen.

"Anything else?" Nate asked Garth.

Garth smirked. "You probably need to know where you're going. South Fork, Colorado. Small town about thirty minutes from here." He handed me a piece of paper with instructions on how to get there from Creede.

We were driving for about ten minutes when we came to an intersection.

"I have no idea what this says." I handed Nate the directions that Garth wrote down for us.

Nate glanced at the paper and shook his head. "Me neither. I'll pull over and see if we can figure it out."

He pulled over shortly after and looked over the paper. A few minutes later, he looked up at me.

He sighed. "Look, I've got something to say, and I just need you to hear me out."

I furrowed my brow. "Yeah?"

"I think you need to call Sam. Like as soon as possible," Nate said earnestly.

"I already told you I would," I said.

He nodded. "Yeah, you keep saying you will, but you keep pushing it off. I know better than anyone how much you will regret not making a simple phone call."

"You act like it'll be too late if I don't do it this second," I said.

He shrugged and nodded. "It could be—"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Come on, Nate."

"Maddison, I'm serious." He shook his head. "Life is not fair, and you know how true that is. Even if Sam isn't hunting anymore, literally, anything could happen to him… or you. You don't want to make the mistake of pushing something off just 'cause you think you have more time."

"All right, all right. I get it," I said.

"All I'm saying is. I know how much I wish I could pick up the phone and talk to Jo." Nate looked at me seriously. "You might not be able to pick up the phone and call Dean, but you still have Sam. Don't overlook that."

I nodded. "Yeah, and that's the problem."

He shook his head. "How could that possibly be a problem?"

"I'm not ready to stop looking for Dean or Kevin," I said, "I'm not ready to stop hunting. And as much as I miss Sam and wish he could be here doing this with me. He's already given all of that up. I don't want to call him and be convinced to go back. What I'm doing… what we're doing right now is way too important to just move on from."

Nate thought for a minute and nodded. "Okay, how 'bout this? You call him, and if for some reason your talk makes you suddenly forget how stubborn you are, I'll remind you of why you're here doing this with Garth and me."

I smirked. "Fine. We've got a deal. But I'm waiting to call him after this case."

He nodded. "All right, but I'm holding you to it."

We decided on our drive that we were going to pose as university students who have to do research for a paper about a local community that has had to deal with tragedy.

Nate pulled into a gas station in South Fork. While he filled the tank, I went inside to grab us some drinks and snacks, so we had a bit of food for the hotel room.

The store's inside was almost pristine, almost like the employees spent most of their time cleaning than waiting on customers. It was reasonably quiet, except for an older woman who stood behind the counter clanking her knitting needles together.

I grabbed some drinks from the cooler and a few bags of snacks and headed towards the counter. The old woman grabbed the peach tea from the counter and glared at me.

"Not from around here, are ya?" she asked as she scanned my items without breaking from her stare.

I swallowed. "Yeah. My friend and I are just in town to do some research for a school project."

The woman leaned closer to me, trying to get a better look. "School? Aren't you a little old to be in school?"

"We go to the university," I said.

"We're a bit far from any university in the state. What sort of project would lead you here?" She continued giving me a suspicious look.

I looked outside to where Nate was pumping gas. "My friend and I are journalism students. We're supposed to be doing research on local tragedies and how the towns they happen in move forward and grow after being struck by grief."

The woman turned to grab a grocery bag and chuckled. "Just more big-city folk looking to exploit a small town in the middle of a tragedy. Such a shame. It really is."

I stood in silence, not really expecting this sort of interaction.

She bagged my items and leaned in. "You listen here, and you listen good. This town has seen enough grief the past few weeks. Things like this only ever happened once before. I suggest you and your." She glanced outside to where Nate was. "Friend, get out of here before you cause us any more trouble."

The woman pushed the bag across the counter, turned, and went back to knitting.

I put ten dollars on the counter, grabbed the bag, and walked back to the car. Nate saw I was coming back and perked up.

"Hey. Did they have everything?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah. I'm pretty sure I just got scolded by that old woman though." I handed him a small bag of Funyuns.

He ripped open the bag. "So, what did she say?"

"She basically told us to leave. To not stick our noses where they don't belong," I said.

"Seems kinda rude. Don't ya think?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I mean, there have been like three dead kids in the past few weeks. Maybe she knew one of them or something."

Nate popped a Funyun in his mouth. "Maybe."

After we left the gas station, we drove by a railroad crossing and saw a woman replacing a large dead memorial wreath with a new one on the side of the road.

I looked at Nate. "Hmm. You think it has something to do with the case?"

Nate shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt to look into it."

"The woman at the gas station said something about the recent deaths being similar to something that happened years ago." I shrugged. "It's definitely worth a check."

I clicked on the radio as we drove toward our motel.

"Recent deaths hit the town of South Fork as today marks the twentieth anniversary of Miles Sutton," the news reporter said, "A young boy who died at the age of nine after being struck by a train."

"Okay, well, that answers that," Nate said.

"You think the kid could have anything to do with the deaths?" I asked.

He nodded. "It's entirely possible."

"Yeah, but usually ghosts have a motive," I said, "What could a kid that died over twenty years ago have against kids that weren't even alive back then?"

"Yeah, that seems super strange. Maybe the spirit is just jealous that these kids are gonna be able to live a life that he never had the chance to," Nate said.

"But there is usually a stronger connection. And why has it waited twenty years before doing anything?" I asked.

Nate shrugged. "Maybe there isn't a super-strong connection. If it's the spirit of a kid, they could just be immature and struck with jealousy. I'm not sure what would cause the twenty-year gap, though."

"I guess we better go and learn a bit more about Miles Sutton," I said.

I heard a car door slam and looked up to see Nate approaching the door with our lunch. He unlocked the door and walked in, tossing his keys onto the counter.

"So, check this out. Twenty years ago, Miles Sutton died by getting struck by a train. It says here that there were a group of kids with him at the time," I said.

Nate set the bag of food on the table. "Hmm. Does it mention any of the kids' names? Maybe we can go and talk to them, ya know? See what happened and all that."

I shook my head. "No, but it says here that they interviewed someone named Josephine Abbott. The reporter asked her about what happened, and she said, 'Tyler said that they were all just going to the arcade for the day and would be back for lunch. They always walked down the tracks. It was quicker to get to town that way. I never imagined anything like this would ever happen.'"

"Looks like we have the name of someone who was there… Tyler Abbott." Nate passed me a foil-wrapped cheeseburger.

I took the cheeseburger and began unwrapping it. "So we have to track down a Tyler Abbott and see if Miles Sutton's parents are still in town."

Nate took a big bite of his cheeseburger. "Works for me," he said with his mouth full.

We finished our lunch, packed our research, and went to the local library to do a bit more digging.

While Nate was looking through old newspapers to see if there were any living relatives of Miles Sutton, I started searching for Tyler Abbott's address.

Nate rushed over to me, holding a recent newspaper. "Hey, look at this." He set it down on the table in front of me and pointed to an entry in the obituaries.

The words Paulina Sutton, 1958-2013, were typed above a picture of a woman. It read, Paulina Sutton passed away Sunday, December 22nd, due to natural causes, underneath the picture. She is survived by her brother, Harley Sutton. And predeceased by her son Miles Sutton. Services will be held Thursday, January 2nd."

"Whoa. So the mom died like two or three weeks ago," I said.

Nate nodded. "Yeah. Maybe this is all her? I mean, the dates kind of line up."

"Why, though?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's possible she doesn't have anything to do with it, but it also looks like too much of a coincidence. Maybe if we talk to Tyler Abbott, it will clear some things up." Nate shrugged.

I got up and started packing my stuff. "Well, let's go have a conversation then."

We pulled up next to a light blue house and parked. A pickup truck was backed up to the open garage door with the bed full of strapped-down furniture. A trailer sat next to the truck in the driveway, its doors wide open.

Nate and I got out of the car and grabbed our journals. We walked up to the garage as a man hastily walked towards the trailer with a large box in his arms.

He walked the box into the trailer and set it down. He turned to us with a heavy sigh. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

There were dark circles under the man's eyes, and he looked absolutely exhausted.

Nate stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Adam, and this is Sarah."

The man took a rag out of his back pocket and wiped his hands and the back of his neck. "Yeah. What, uh, what can I do for you?"

I stepped next to Nate. "We're students from the university, writing a research paper about local tragedy. We've been going around the town and neighborhood talking to locals and were wondering if you would answer a few questions for us."

The man took a deep breath and put the rag back in his pocket. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

Nate took out a notepad and pen. "Great. Thank you so much for helping us out. We've run into a few less than welcoming to us, and we really appreciate your cooperation. It really means a lot."

"I guess the first thing we would like to know is your name and how long you've lived in the town. For crediting purposes, of course," I said.

"I'm Tyler Abbott. I've lived here for almost thirty years, born and raised," Tyler said.

"With everything that's been going on the past few weeks, we were just curious how people in such a small town continue their lives after tragedy strikes," Nate said.

Tyler hesitated for a moment. "Well, I guess we just keep our head down and hope that something like that doesn't happen again. This is a town with only like 400 people in it. We all know each other and have formed a fairly strong bond over the years."

I nodded. "Is that how everyone recovered from the train accident twenty years ago?"

Tyler's eyes shot up at me, and he stood up. "Look, I said I would answer your questions about what's going on right now. I'm not really interested in talking about what happened back then."

Nate looked up from his notepad. "Okay, just one more question before we go."

Tyler shook his head in irritation. "No, I'm done with the questions."

"But it's not about the train accident," Nate said.

"I don't care. I've got a lot on my plate," Tyler said, "I'm trying to help my friend plan his kid's funeral and pack up to move me and my kid out of this place."

I looked at him, surprised. "You know one of the families personally?" I asked without thinking.

Tyler looked at me furiously. "Yeah, I knew all of those kids. They were some of my son's best friends. Been friends with their parents since I was young. Are you done sticking your nose in other people's business now?" he snapped. "Or do you have more insensitive questions to ask?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Tyler nodded and gestured toward Nate's car. "If you don't mind, I'd like you to leave now."

I nodded. "Yeah, sorry for the intrusion."

I turned to Nate, and we quickly left Tyler's property.

After we pulled back onto the road, I looked at Nate.

"We need to figure out who those parents are," I said.

"Why? What are you thinking?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Well, I'm thinking that if Tyler was at the tracks with Miles… maybe they were too. Maybe they have more to do with what happened than they're letting on."

"So, you're thinking vengeful spirit?" he asked.

I nodded. "I mean yeah, either Miles is doing this for some twisted reason or—"

"Or his mother is killing these kids to get revenge on the other people that were there," Nate said.

"Yeah, kinda like 'you took mine, so I'm gonna take yours,'" I said.

"Makes sense to me, so do we go find these people, or do we go straight for Pauline and burn her bones?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. I don't want to dig up someone's grave if they aren't the one behind it. But we also don't have much time. I'm assuming Tyler's kid is on the list as well."

We went back to our motel room to try and dig up info on Pauline and Miles. Nate had been scrolling for a few minutes, and I had just sat down to start researching.

"So, it looks like Miles was buried in the cemetery in town." Nate looked up from his computer.

I nodded. "Anything on Pauline?"

"Nah, I was looking for Miles's stuff first. Figured hers would be easier to find since it was so recent," Nate said.

I opened my laptop and started it up. "Yeah, that makes sense. I'll start getting the home addresses of the kids who have died so we can possibly talk to the parents or something. Figure out exactly what happened twenty years ago."

Nate nodded as he continued searching. "We don't really know if Tyler is the only one of Miles's friends who hasn't been affected yet. So, we should really find out who was there with Miles when it all happened too."

"Maybe if we focus on Tyler, we won't have to talk to the ones who are already grieving. Not to mention, we don't really know how much time we have before another kid dies," I said.

"True. Bad news on the Pauline front, though," Nate said.

"What's up?" I looked up at Nate from the computer.

"Pauline was cremated. Must be Miles, means were kinda screwed," Nate said, defeated.

"What do you mean we're screwed?" I asked.

Nate looked at me. "How much do you think they were able to bury? No way they got all of it. We're gonna have to track down as much as we can. And honestly, it might not be enough."

"Don't forget this is a child's remains we're talking about," I said, "But just because Pauline was cremated doesn't mean it isn't her. Plus, it makes more sense for her to be behind all this, not Miles. My gut says it's her."

Nate nodded. "Yeah, it's possible her ghost is attached to something else. Maybe we can check out her house and see if there's anything significant there."

"Sounds like a deal," I said.

"If it ends up being Miles, those tracks run through the whole town. So that kinda makes sense why the deaths happened in different locations," Nate said.

I nodded. "Yeah, and guess what else I just found out. All of the kids who died did so within a half-mile of Pauline's house."

"That sounds like a connection if I've ever heard one," Nate said.

"Yup. And guess who's house is in that radius." I got up to refill my glass of water.

"Tyler's?" Nate asked.

"Bingo," I said, "So, we just have to figure out what she's attached to and case solved."

Nate scoffed. "You say that like it's so easy."

I walked over and turned my laptop screen towards him. "Estate sale of Pauline Abbott. Tomorrow afternoon."

Nate nodded. "Yeah, it also says it's a two-story house with a basement and attic. We've got like…" He looked at his watch. "Sixteen hours to figure it out, find it, and destroy it before she hurts another kid, or the item is sold off and gone."

"Don't be such a downer," I said.

"I'm just trying to be realistic," he said, "We don't even know what we're looking for."

"Here's the plan. We go to Tyler's; maybe he knows if Pauline had something that she cherished or whatever. Then we go to Pauline's and find the thing. Then, problem solved," I said.

"Again, you're talking like this is gonna be easy," Nate said.

We packed our things up and headed out to Tyler's. As we pulled up to the curb in front of the house, we could see the lights inside flickering unnaturally.

Nate brought the car to a stop. "That can't be good."

"Grab the bag." I threw the car door open and bolted up the driveway.

"Maddison!" Nate shouted after me.

As I got up to the garage door, I heard screams coming from inside the house. I ran up to the front door and jiggled the handle. It was locked. I pulled my lockpick out and quickly unlocked the door.

I made my way into the house. Through the kitchen, I could see Tyler and his son cowering in the corner of the living room as the lights continued to flicker. I could see their breath. The house was unnaturally cold.

Tyler's eyes met mine, and he looked terrified. I took a step forward and heard a shrill voice screaming at him and his son.

"You let my baby die!" the ear-piercing voice yelled.

Tears were streaming down Tyler's face. "I did everything I could to help him. Everyone did. We just couldn't get him free."

I looked around the kitchen and grabbed a small container of salt. I took another step forward and could see the partially corporeal form of an older woman standing over Tyler and his son.

"You lie!" she shrieked. "You'll pay for what you did!"

I lunged forward and threw the salt at Pauline, causing her to vanish.

"She's only gonna be gone for a minute or two. Follow me, quickly." I reached my hand out towards Tyler.

I helped him up, and we both turned, just in time to see Nate hustling into the house with his bag swung over his shoulder.

"We gotta get them out of here." I gestured for Tyler to go between us and follow Nate out to the car.

We all piled into Nate's car and started heading back to the motel so that Tyler and his son were no longer in danger.

"Where are you taking us? Who are you? And what was that?" Tyler asked from the backseat.

I turned to face them. "We're going back to our motel. You'll be safe there. And that was the ghost of Pauline Abbott."

Nate looked in the rearview mirror towards Tyler. "We're the kind of people who stop this sort of thing from happening."

Tyler's face turned to a look of shock and disbelief. "Ghost? You're crazy."

"I mean, you saw her for yourself. How would you explain what she was?" I asked.

Tyler paused, looking a bit defeated. "What do we need to do to stay safe?"

"Listen to us and do as we say. We have to get you away from Pauline's house so that she can't reach you," Nate said.

We pulled into the motel's parking lot, and Nate parked in a spot nearest to our room. Everyone got out, and we made our way into the motel room.

Nate picked up a few things from the sofa and patted one of the cushions. "This will be your home for the next few hours. Get comfy."

I grabbed a container of salt and started pouring it in a circle around the sofa. "Stay in this circle, and she can't get to you."

Tyler sat down on the couch with his son. "I thought you said that if we were far enough away, we would be safe?"

I finished pouring the salt and looked at Tyler. "That's the running theory. Still aren't certain yet."

Nate grabbed a tire iron from his bag and held it out to Tyler. "Here. Take this."

Tyler looked at Nate, confused. "So, you're telling me that I need to be far away from my home in order to be safe, though you aren't sure. Then you expect me to sit in a circle of table salt, and if that doesn't work, beat it with a stick?"

"Spirits can't cross salt, but sometimes they can manipulate their surroundings to break the salt line," Nate said.

"That's where the tire iron comes in. If she shows up and breaks the salt line, you get to go Barry Bonds on her with that and buy yourself some time until we get back," I said.

"One question before we leave. Is there anything specific you can think of that Pauline might be tied to?" Nate asked.

Tyler furrowed his brow in confusion. "Tied to?"

I nodded. "Yeah, she most likely has a strong connection to something that's keeping her on Earth."

He shook his head. "No, nothing I can think— Well…" he paused for a moment to think. "She always wore a necklace. I think it had a lock of Miles's hair in it."

Nate and I exchanged a look and nodded.

"That'll do it," I said and then grabbed the remote and tossed it to Tyler. "Knock yourself out. We'll be back in a bit."

We slowly drove by the house that was listed on the estate sale advertisement. Nate parked down the street. We grabbed our things and started to walk towards the house, trying our best to stick to the street's darker parts.

We circled around to the backside of the house to avoid suspicion. Luckily, one of the windows on the back of the house was open slightly.

"Hey," I whispered to Nate and pointed to the open window.

"Nice." Nate started walking over to the window. He put his hands out to give me a boost.

I climbed up and fully opened the window before squeezing into the house.

I turned back towards Nate. "I'll unlock the back door for ya." He gave me a thumbs up and walked away towards the backdoor.

I spun around and clicked on my flashlight. I was standing in what looked like it used to be a small craft room. A sewing machine was tucked into the corner with a stack of newspapers slumped over it. A large corkboard was attached to the wall, and pinned to it were a bunch of pictures of a young boy.

I assumed it was Miles. There were pictures of him with the first fish that he caught. His first birthday cake. His first day of school. It was almost like she made a shrine to remember him after he died.

I turned and opened the door and walked into the hallway. The house was eerily quiet and smelled like the windows hadn't been opened in ten years. I exited the room to find Nate waiting by the backdoor. I quickly unlocked it and let him in.

"What took you so long?" he asked with a smirk as he walked in with his flashlight.

"Shut up." I chuckled and then turned back into the house.

"Okay, so if you were Pauline, where would you keep this necklace?" Nate asked.

"Well, as close to me as possible or the safest place I could find," I said, "So possibly a nightstand or jewelry box. Or on me, but since that's not an option for us, let's hope that's not the case."

"And if it is?" he asked.

"Well, if worse comes to worst… we burn the house down and skip town," I said, half-joking.

"Okay, but seriously, what if we can't find this thing?" Nate asked.

"Nathan, you'll get nowhere in life with that negativity," I said as we ascended the stairs.

"Just trying to be realistic here," he said as we made our way into the master bedroom.

"Well, there are lives on the line so let's be optimistic," I said.

"All right, whatever." He chuckled. "What's got you all sunshine and rainbows?"

"Oh, I'm not. I just don't want to openly admit we might not find it because then burning the house down might actually become a reality," I said.

"So, lying to yourself?" He chuckled.

"It's more along the lines of throwing the thought to the back of my head and ignoring it until I can't anymore," I said as I searched through the nightstands.

"Okay, well, hate to break it to you, but I'm not finding anything on the vanity," Nate said.

"Yeah, nothing on the nightstands either," I said.

"Any other idea where it could be?" he asked.

I thought for a moment, and an idea hit me. "I wonder…"

"What?" he asked.

"You think it's possible she kept his bedroom intact?" I asked.

Nate shrugged. "I don't see why not. It was only the two of them."

"Same floor, you think?" I asked.

"Probably, let's go check it out," he said and then gestured to the hallway.

We walked down the hall and opened some doors that led to rooms filled with boxes. Until finally, we opened the last door.

As the door creaked open, we were greeted by the tidiest room in the whole house. It was a little boy's room, and it looked as I expected it did the day Miles died.

The room smelled of fresh paint and cleaning products, almost like Pauline kept it as clean and vibrant as she could. It was like a time capsule.

I stepped in and shined my flashlight around the room until the light sparkled off of something sitting on the bed. I took a few steps closer, and sure enough, the necklace had been placed carefully on Miles's pillow.

I took a sigh of relief. "Thank god," I said as I picked up the necklace.

"What—" Nate said but was interrupted by the door slamming between us. He banged on the door. "Maddi!"

Suddenly, a harsh breath whispered in my ear and sent a shiver down my spine.

"Get out!" Pauline shouted behind me.

Before I could react, she grabbed me and threw me across the room. Sending me into a crumpled mess on top of a model train set.

As I rolled over to pick myself up, my flashlight rolled across the ground, causing a strobe light effect to hit Pauline's ghost as she approached me. She continued towards me menacingly as I struggled to get up off the broken train set that felt like shattered glass beneath me.

"Mommy?" a sweet soft voice asked from beside her.

The rage on her face softened immediately as she turned to look at Miles.

"Baby?" she asked with a tight throat.

As I stood up, she turned to me, and the rage exploded on her face again.

Miles grabbed her arm. "Please stop. Please don't hurt anyone else."

Pauline froze and then turned to Miles. The tension in the room immediately lifted, and she sank to her knees in front of him.

She pulled him into a hug as she sobbed. "I've missed you so much."

Miles hugged her back. "It's okay now."

Pauline continued to cry, and then they both vanished into a soft light.

Suddenly Nate burst through the door. "You okay? What happened?"

"Miles just saved my ass," I said, "Let's go."

I left the room and started down the stairs.

"You good?" Nate asked as he followed behind me.

"No, honestly, I'm not," I said, "It pisses me off that Pauline destroyed the lives of so many families, and she gets to be with her kid in the end anyway."

"Eh, I don't know. I'm pretty sure she's not going upstairs with him. Besides, you know we can't always save everybody," Nate said, trying to be encouraging. "At least we know Tyler and his son will be okay."

I sighed. "I guess. This job just doesn't really feel like a win, though."

He frowned at me, knowing that what I was saying was true.

"I'm pretty sure they're gone, but just to be safe…" I said as I stopped in front of the fireplace in the living room.

I tossed the necklace onto the logs and then pulled out gas and matches from our duffel bag. I quickly lit it on fire and then watched it burn for a few minutes.

After letting Tyler know that he and his son were safe, we packed up and made our way back to the cabin.

When we walked in, Garth was in the living room doing some yoga.

He looked up at us happily and then stopped what he was doing to walk over to us.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked.

Nate shrugged. "About as good as it could."

I nodded. "Yeah, got rid of the ghost but left behind a bunch of dead kids and devastated families."

Garth nodded sadly. "Yeah, that's just the way it goes with this line of work sometimes. You know how it is, we can't—"

"Save them all," I said, "Yeah, I know." I shook my head. "Doesn't make it suck any less."

Garth sighed. "Well, I've got a case of wine coolers in the fridge that might bring the spirits up."

"Yeah, sounds great, but make mine a beer, please," Nate said as he passed by me into the living room. "Aw, dude, come on. I thought we talked about the tree." He gestured to the barely alive, mostly brown Christmas tree that sat in the corner of the room.

"I know, I know." Garth nodded. "You said you wanted it gone by the time you came back, but as I was going to take it down, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I'm not done with the holiday spirit yet."

"Dude, it's January 24th," Nate said, annoyed.

"Is it really?" I asked.

"Yup, and Garth's going to cause a house fire with his Christmas spirit," Nate said.

Garth sighed. "Okay, jeez, I'll take it—"

"Huh," I said, ignoring their bickering. "Dean would've been thirty-five today."

I looked down at the ground, feeling sadness overwhelm me. Then the room started to fill with awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to say.

"Sorry." I cleared my throat. "Um, I'm going to go call Sam."

Then I turned to walk out of the room.

"Maddi, you okay?" Nate asked, worried.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said, not looking back.

I walked into Nate's room and closed the door. I pulled my phone out of my pocket as I sat down on the bed and then took a deep breath before dialing Sam's number.

The phone rang once and then clicked. "We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service."