"What do you mean?" Violet asked, stalling for time to think of what she was going to say.

"Just what I said, Vi," said Ben. "We're going home. Joshua's been inconsolable since the earthquake, and your mother and I both think he'd be happier at home."

Indeed, the notoriously fussy infant had refused to stop crying for more than an hour at a stretch, and that was only after he had cried himself into exhaustion. He was fussing at that moment, in fact. Vivien paced in the kitchen with him while Violet and Ben discussed plans.

"We can't go back yet," insisted Violet, but she didn't have a good cover story for why.

Her dad looked at her like she was crazy. "Why not?"

She pressed her lips together, dimpling her cheek. She knew she had to tell him. "Tate said… he said Michael wants to hurt mom."

Vivien stopped pacing and came closer to them in order to hear better. She switched to gently bouncing the baby. The change had no impact on his mewling.

"Why? Why would he want to do that?" Ben wanted to know.

Violet hunched her shoulders in a shrug. "I'm not sure. Tate said Michael told him…" She glanced at her mother, then soldiered on. "That he wanted to get mom pregnant."

Her parents exchanged a look then they both looked at Violet, who folded her arms with the sudden desire to hide in her loose gray cardigan.

"You knew this, and you didn't tell us?" Ben boggled.

"I just did!" Violet objected.

"Because you had no other choice," her father fired back.

Joshua fussed louder and Vivien began to pace with him again. "Violet, honey," she interrupted. "We're ghosts. He can't get me pregnant." She made a strange face, not liking those words on her tongue. She felt tainted. "Even if it was possible, which I doubt, he can't get near me if he can't see me."

Ben was still irked at what he felt was a basic betrayal of his trust in his daughter but, for the baby's sake, he wadded the irritation up and stuffed it down as far as he could. "We're going home. Now." He gave Violet a stern look then he vanished.

"Let's go," Vivien said, a little more gently. Then she, too, vanished. Joshua's cry tapered off and was gone.

Violet sighed again. She wanted to go look for Jett. She hadn't seen him since he'd left her on the beach. His stuff was gone from the ruined beach house when she checked there last. He hadn't left notice of where he was going yet she still felt the urge to tell him that she was leaving. It was a strange way to feel. He didn't care enough about her feelings to tell her he was going, so why did she care if he knew where she was?

She hugged herself and then she willed herself back home.

—

Coming home presented an unexpected source of relief and comfort for Violet. When she had been forced to return, back before the fog spread everywhere, it was a dreary thing to have to go back to the mansion. Sometimes it was downright depressing. This time, it felt different. The familiar dusty old scent smelled like home after spending the last few days on the beach. The dark, enclosed space of the downstairs foyer hugged her in ways the open, airy beach house hadn't. While pretty, the seaside house was about as personable as a tent to her.

"Violet," her father said from the doorway of his office down the hall. "Let's talk."

She felt her stomach sink to her feet. It had been a long time since her dad had taken that tone with her: The dad tone. She was technically into her adult years but when he looked at her like that, she felt sixteen all over again. No. Twelve.

She trudged over to him, still hugging herself and not wanting to make eye contact. He let her enter the room before following her, tugging the door shut behind himself. She went over to the leather sofa and let herself drop into it, taking the seat Tate usually sat in when he was in session.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys," she said sincerely. "I didn't want to upset you."

Ben took a seat in the chair adjacent to the couch and propped his elbows on his knees. "I understand you felt like you were protecting us," he said, brows arching. "But that's not the way to do it."

She nodded miserably and wished she could fast forward through to a couple of hours from now. "I didn't know what else to do. I just wanted to keep mom safe."

"We all do," Ben assured. "But we can't do that as a family if two-thirds of us don't even know what's going on. Do you see?"

Violet's lips pursed and she nodded again. "Yeah. Sorry. I guess I just kind of freaked out."

He smiled and reached over to tuck her hair behind her ear. She withdrew slightly, which pricked his heart, but he couldn't blame her. Not after everything they had been through over the years. He pretended not to notice and settled back in his chair.

"No more secrets?"

She faked a little smile for him that he seemed to buy. "No more secrets."

—

Violet went searching for Tate as soon as she could escape her dad. To her disappointment, she couldn't find him. She couldn't sense him anywhere in the house, either. That was unusual.

Orienting instead on Chad, she found the dark-haired man in the downstairs bathroom, scrubbing viciously at the dusty crud lining the baseboard. He didn't look up when she came in but he did acknowledge her.

"I just don't understand how things like this get so dirty!" he told her emphatically. "It's not like anyone living is even using this area so how the hell does all this hair and crap get here?"

He threw the down the toothbrush he was using in defiance of the stubborn mess. Then he sat back on the heels of his leather loafers and sent Violet a look that demanded sympathy for his plight.

Though his irritation was genuine, the teen found it hard to keep her face straight. "I'm sure it's just because it's old. Dust settles."

"I clean it every week!"

Violet pulled a sympathetic face then. "Maybe it's the house messing with you. If you ignore it, maybe it'll stop."

"Tell me how to ignore this!" Chad indignantly held up a dustpan spotted with dark hairballs and papery chunks of old dust.

"Tell it to 'go away'?"

Chad gave her a cold look. "Funny."

She favored him a dry smile, then changed the subject to what she had come for. "Do you know where Tate went?"

Chad's expression cleared into mild confusion. "He's not here?" He froze for a moment while he extended himself through the frame of the house. "Huh."

Violet thought. "Maybe he's at his mother's."

Chad shrugged. "Possibly. Or off with Patrick. He and the car are gone. They're probably in town."

"Why would they take the car just to go there?"

Chad shrugged again and picked up the toothbrush. "Patrick likes to pretend he's alive." He widened his eyes and looked heavenward, to show what he thought of the affectation. "Living people don't teleport. They drive."

Violet considered going looking for them but that seemed like a lot of effort that might not pan out. Better just to wait. They would come back eventually.

"Need help?" she offered after a moment. It would give her something to do while she was waiting and would help her keep her mind off of Michael and whatever he might be doing.

Chad eyed her, suspecting a prank, but she was serious. After some scrutiny, he relented. "If you really want to help, the window has come off its track and won't stay open. It's a two-person job to fix it because it keeps falling down."

"We never open that window," she pointed out.

"So?" Chad demanded, offended. "It still needs to work right. Do you want to help or not?"

"Yeah," she smiled, amused by his mood. "Sorry. I just never even think about that window."

"That's because you're not a homeowner."

She rolled her eyes. That was the most ridiculous thing she'd heard in a while. It was always pretty funny. "So, what do we have to do?"

"First, we need the toolbox."

...

Author's Note:

When I write this stuff, I have a very loose outline I follow that I scripted months and months ago. It's not much more than a list of chapters and, beneath each chapter title, a bullet-point list of single-sentence plot developments. As such, a lot of the story comes out as a surprise even to me. At this point in the story I have no idea where Patrick is. Last I checked, he wasn't with Tate or the car. But then, I also have no idea where Tate went. His running off with the car was not in any of my bulleted lists.

It might be the last time anyone sees that car...

Thanks for the feedback and messages! You guys keep me inspired.

Next time: Michael makes the Seven Deadlies proclamation. What the heck's that? You'll have to come back and see later.