"What is this all about?" she demanded, as Jack sat down in the driver's seat and gestured for her to sit beside him.

"We need to talk, Fiona."

Her heart stopped. "What did you find out there?"

He shook his head. "Not about that."

She regarded him suspiciously. "Jack, just tell me what you saw."

"Didn't you ever wonder why you never found the truth, after all the time?"

"Jack, I don't get it. You always--"

"Didn't you ever wonder why she never believed you?" He leaned across the gap between the driver's seat and the passenger seat. "That's just it, baby. That's the whole point. She always believed you."

She lifted her eyebrows. "'Baby'?"

He smiled, and it looked as if he had never done it before. His lips stretched back across his teeth, awkwardly. "It's me, Fiona."

She rose and walked back toward the kitchen as if she were pacing, then turned to face him. "That's not funny, Jack. And, anyway, right now?" The tone of her voice gave her away, but she kept going. "Do you really think it's the time for jokes?" She glanced over at the kitchen table; someone had left a plate behind, complete with fork and knife. Maybe, if she could just…

"It's been a long time coming." He stood up. "I had to wait a long time for my turn in line."

"What's going on?" she asked, in a low voice.

"Your mother," he said, "Mom. She loved me because I was a good guy, you know? I'd never leave her. That's all I ever had to say to her. And it was true. I never would have." He came closer. "Turned out she left me first."

She opted to remain silent, backing away slowly, until there was nowhere left to go. He didn't seem dangerous, but this was all just way too weird.

"I just had this itch, this need to know. And the way it worked out--she could have helped me if she'd wanted to. Her mother, her grandmother... she only had to ask them. But she wouldn't."

"Where's Jack?" she finally asked. He didn't even register that she had spoken. "I looked, and I looked. I had to know. Just like you. She closed her eyes." He shrugged. "And then it turned into jealousy."

"I don't understand what's going on," she tried.

He almost laughed. "She was so insecure. I liked that about her, in the beginning."

"Where is everyone?"

"She killed me, baby. That night, she begged me not to go, but I had to. After I left, she called good old grandma Fiona, always there in a pinch. Dropped you kids off with Irene and Ned, and the three witches got together." He turned his gaze back to her. "So, you see, she always believed you. She knew it was all true."

Fiona shook her head, thoroughly confused. On the one hand, she needed to know everyone was still alive; on the other hand, here he was, in the flesh. Not the right flesh, but right in front of her just the same. He was babbling like a madman, but she knew he'd never hurt her. Then again, what had he done to Jack? Was Jack still in there? If he was, she couldn't see him at all; but that was how it had been with Bricriu, so maybe he was a spirit like that.

"I've been right here, right along with you, every step of the way. I've tried so hard to keep you safe, baby. Safe from them. Safe from her. I watched all of you. Jack turned his back on me early, but he forgave her everything. Ned and Irene never asked any questions. They must have known the truth. And Carey, well, he was just a kid back then, but now..." He shuddered.

"What about Carey?" she demanded. "Where is he?"

"Oh, Fiona, I don't know how she could have done it to you. They were supposed to be her best friends. But everyone who ever loved her regretted it in the end."

Past tense. "Daddy," she managed to choke. "Where. Are. They?"

He smiled, more naturally this time. "You could say we traded places." He looked down at Jack's hands, sadly. "I hated what I had to do to him, to get to you. But I had to get to you. You're the only one who kept believing in me. I love you, baby." He reached out for her, hugged her close. She resisted the urge to scream, mostly because she suddenly found it very difficult to make any sound at all.

Jack withdrew from her abruptly. He looked into her eyes, and then down at his hands again. For the first time, she noticed that his fingers were dark, stained with something that might have been blood or dirt, or both. "What has he done?" he whispered.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her mouth closed again, as if possessed by its own free will. Her eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Jack," she said, drawing closer. "You picked the wrong side, kid. But you'll be happy where you're going." She smiled, slowly, painfully. "I've made sure of that." She reached over toward the table and the discarded utensils with one hand, but kept her gaze on him.

He seemed to consider fighting, but just stood there and stared.

Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry. I can't stop him. I can't stop it.

"I know it's not you," he said. "It wasn't me, either. I forgive you."

I'll see you soon. I'm dead already.

"Tell your mother I said hello," she replied.

Jack closed his eyes.

---

"Fiona," she said aloud, driving down the dark highway in a battered Chevrolet. She glanced over at the crazy old man, whose body had slid almost entirely into the floor below the passenger seat. "You're not really dead, you know."

I might as well be. If I could, I'd turn the wheel, drive this car into a tree. I can't do that. Ergo, dead.

"You're with me. It's what you always wanted, isn't it? It's why you looked for me, right? To escape from her?"

I love my mother. I always thought you did, too.

She sighed. "It's complicated, baby. Love is complicated." To an outsider, she would appear to have considered this for a moment, although Fiona, trapped inside, heard nothing. "When someone kills you, it's a little hard to muster up any tender feelings toward them after that."

Well, I know she loved you. She barely even dated afterward.

She smirked. "Really excellent choice she made, in the end, don't you think?" She shook her head. "A kid."

Silence.

"What, nothing to say about that?" She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. "They pulled my spirit before the car even crashed. It wasn't a mistake. It was her. It was all of them. Get that through your head." She returned her gaze to the dark road stretching out ahead. "Our head."

Don't you want your own body?

"Maybe," she said contemplatively. "When our mission is complete. But I probably won't be able to trust you on your own for a while. You've lost a lot all at once."

Whose fault is that?

She scowled. "The answer to that question should become clear if you consider what would have happened if they hadn't conspired against me that night."

No response.

"That's right. We would have had a normal life. We would have been together. All of us. Forever."

That doesn't make it right.

"It doesn't make it wrong, either."

They drove in silence for a while.

I don't get it. How'd you do it?

"Friends in high places. You know the guy. Bricriu. He helped me out, showed me how to do it. I watched you. I knew where you'd be. I picked a house, picked a body, and went for it."

Those people were innocent.

"Oh, Fiona. The first thing you learn when you can see everything is that no one is innocent." She paused. "On a related note, we're gonna have to figure out what to do with this body," she said. "Not yours. The driver's. You're pretty little."

Maybe you should have thought of that before you killed him.

She scoffed. "Did you see the way he was looking at you? That guy never did anything good for anyone without wanting something in return, believe me."

Ever think maybe omniscience has gone to your head?

"Oh, ha ha." She looked at herself in the mirror again. "Speaking of things going to people's heads, ever think maybe you're just going crazy?"

Excuse me?

"Maybe I'm not even real. Maybe it's been you all this time." She shrugged. "Not like we've never seen it before."

If you weren't real, I could control my hands.

"Maybe you are controlling them and you just don't know it."

You're real. I never blamed Mom for what happened to you. Not even subconsciously.

"Well, you're right," she said. "But I can't help being a little disappointed, Fiona. You're supposed to question everything."

Yeah, well, it's been a rough night.

"No kidding. Hey, why don't you get some sleep?"

Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?

"I'd never kill you, baby." She patted her left arm with her right hand. "I love you. After this is all over, we can go anywhere you want. Your choice."

I want to go back to where you were.

"Now, hush," she persisted. "Get some rest. It's going to be a difficult morning for you." She smiled. "I'll sing you a lullaby, how about that?"

Some time passed.

"Over the river, and through the woods," she began to sing, very quietly. "To grandmother's house we go..."