Six months earlier

The din inside the café was deafening, just like it was every weekend. Rey wondered how many Sunday brunches she had worked and felt depressed when she lost count.

She hurried over to the barista and slammed down a ticket. "Please, please, I need these drinks as fast as you can," she implored. "I forgot to drop it off earlier and table seven's going to lose their minds if their kids don't get their almond milk hot chocolates."

Kelly shot a sympathetic glance at Rey and dumped a couple of espresso shots into a waiting mug. "It's a zoo out there," she said, shoving Rey's ticket to the front of her line. "Need something yourself?" Kelly shoved a metal pitcher under the wand and the shriek of the steam hissing was almost as bad as the baby screaming across the restaurant.

"Maker, yes," Rey groaned, just as the pager on her hip angrily buzzed. "Triple americano. Black." She started for the expeditor's window. "Wait - with some whipped cream! And sprinkles!"

"Rey, table nine's up!" The expo tore some tickets from the order wheel, pushed them under some waiting plates, and quickly arranged some sliced oranges as garnishes. A few other servers milled around, grabbing other dishes and drinks and dodging each other like the most awkward and fast-paced, but strangely well-orchestrated, waltz.

Rey snatched a tray and piled the steaming hot plates on top. "Corner!" she yelled, rushing away from the expo and back into the cacophony.

She hated brunch with a passion, especially today. It was bad enough to keep the mimosas flowing for the tables full of cackling 20-somethings and tending to the grossly hungover groups – those people tipped well but smelled awful and could never slake their thirst for hair of the dog beverages. And other people liked to think a restaurant outing meant letting their screaming monkey children take full ownership of the space, and Rey often scraped one too many waxy crayons from her shoes and eggs from her hair at the end of every shift. But today? Today was even worse, since it was a greeting-card generated holiday of parental appreciation. It was like any other Sunday, but ten times worst, and ten times more depressing.

Rey wondered if she would have been one of these kids, had she known her parents better. She felt a pang of incredible sadness as she wove through the crowded restaurant to get to table nine. She would have given anything just to be that little kid who was rubbing strawberry jam on her face while her dad laughed hysterically, or that surly teen across the room who was more engaged in her phone than conversation. Anything to give for a moment of normalcy, of family, of belonging.

"Food's here, watch out, kiddos!" the father saw Rey's approach and helpfully pushed his two sons' coloring books out of the way.

Rey plastered her customer service smile on. "Alright, we have two banana pancake stacks and—" she grimaced as her pager buzzed again and she quickly looked over her shoulder to see Kelly jerking her head toward table seven, shit, the hot chocolates were ready! "—and an omelet skillet for dad and here's mom's gluten-free breakfast hash with soy chorizo and a side of fruit."

The kids eagerly dug into their pancakes but their mother had a wrinkled nose.

"I'm sorry," she chirped cheerily in that customer service voice that was actually nagging and grating. "I ordered the fruit without strawberries. I'm a little allergic?" Her voice rose at the end like it was a question.

Rey tried to not make eye contact with the woman's second empty mimosa glass that had a muddle chunk of strawberry at the bottom. "I'm so sorry. Let me get a fresh bowl for you without strawberries. I'll get these other dishes out of the way, pardon me." She hurriedly stacked a couple more plates and glasses on her tray and spun on her heel to get that damned fruit and the stupid hot chocolates when an unruly toddler came darting from out of nowhere and ran right into Kelly, who was coming to deliver the drinks to table seven plus a dozen more tables by the number of mugs balanced precariously upon her tray.

Rey couldn't even scream out a warning before Kelly's leg crumpled under her and a gallon of scalding hot caffeine was about to come raining down on her and the kid. Before Rey even knew what was happening, her own tray found its way at her feet and her hands stretched out as if she was able to cover Kelly from across the room.

Then, there was silence. The entire restaurant fell instantly in a hush. Not even a fork scraped or a kid whimpered.

Rey opened her eyes and saw Kelly reflexively leaning over to shield the toddler, but the barista's eyes were fixated on her tray, which was floating above her head. A tidal wave of coffee and lattes and almond milk hot chocolates were suspended in time.

"She's one of them," a voice finally whispered.

"Mommy, what's she doing?"

"I didn't know they still existed!"

There was a snap of someone's camera phone flashing, which startled Rey from her reverie. Kelly grabbed the toddler and pulled her away just as the tray and a dozen glasses and mugs came smashing to the ground. The patrons at the nearest table screamed and cried out, trying to avoid the splash zone.

Rey was frozen in spot, looking across the restaurant processing it all in slow-motion. A mixture of expressions stared at her, from shock, to surprise, to horror. There were only a couple of people, seated together at a small table against the wall, who watched almost amused, as if they were expecting this.

"R-rey?" Kelly whispered. Her chin trembled and her face was white.

Rey's eyes stung with tears. She had tried so hard to hide this for so long, tried to fit in, and now Kelly looked at her like she was a freak, just like everyone else who was gaping at her.

"I'm sorry," Rey choked out, barely audible. Her vision blurred from tears and drew her hands to her face to try to conceal it as she ran out of the restaurant.

She stumbled into the bright sunlight and immediately bumped into a nicely-dressed man who screamed, with colorful language, for her to watch out. Not able to stifle herself anymore, she broke the floodgates and sobbed while she fought through the stream of people.

"Rey."

She thought she heard someone calling her name but ignored it. Her cover was blown, her secret revealed, and she could never turn around and go back. She quickened her pace.

"Rey!"

Her keys. Her keys and her purse were in her locker back at work. Shit!

"Rey!" The voice was more insistent. It came from so close behind her. Someone must have followed her to try to get a better photo of her to plaster over social media and then she'd really be done for.

Still, she hurried, almost breaking into a run. Forget it. She could find a way back home later. But her phone and her wallet..?

"Rey, stop, please!" The voice exploded and resonated in her head, bouncing off the insides of her skull. It was so disruptive and unnerving, she was instantly struck with vertigo and toppled into a row of coin-operated newspaper racks. Gasping as the world spun, she clung to the graffitied surface of the LA Weekly rack and hoped she wouldn't vomit.

"Rey," the voice said again, this time gentler.

Rey eased herself up, still shaking and leaning on the rack for support. She saw the couple from the restaurant, standing about twenty feet away in the middle of the sidewalk. Pedestrians streamed organically around them, completely oblivious of the two people committing a cardinal sidewalk sin. It's like they weren't even there.

The male, scruffy and a tad taller than the woman, lifted his arm and hanging from it was Rey's purse. He walked slowly toward her, purse extended, as a peace offering.

"How did you get this?" she whispered, grabbing her bag and holding it protectively to her chest. "How do you know my name?" He only gave her a wry smile.

The woman smirked a bit, and the way her eyes wrinkled looked so similar to the man. "Well, it helps that you're advertising it," she commented, crooking an eyebrow and casting a side-eye at the white nametag over Rey's breast that read in black letters, unsurprisingly: REY.

"How did you do that?" Rey demanded. "How did you get inside my head?"

The man shrugged and clasped his hands together. "It's not so strange, once you know how to control it."

"Control what? What are you talking about?"

The woman watched Rey, almost as if she were studying a peculiar little creature. Her lips didn't move, but Rey her heard voice loud and clear.

"Deep down, you know what it is. It's in you, too."

Rey squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her purse to her face. "No, no, no, this is crazy. This is not happening. This is a dream, I'm going to wake up and everything's going to be okay."

"Don't kid yourself, Rey," the man said. "We're here to help. Since you don't plan on going back to work, can you join us and we can explain more about this?"

Rey lowered her purse and ping-ponged her eyes back and forth between the two. It dawned on her. "You're twins, aren't you?"

The woman nodded. "My name is Leia," she said. "This is my brother, Luke."

"Leia," Rey repeated, softly. "Luke. Your names are familiar. Why is that?" Her memories tried to find where those names had resided, but she was so wound up, it was hard to think straight.

Luke smiled a tight and restrained smile. "We'll talk about that, too. Would you like to come with us?" He nodded toward a black SUV that had quietly rolled up in the NO PARKING zone behind them. A large behemoth of a man, with long, dark hair and an equally grizzly beard was behind the driver's seat.

Rey steely stared at them again, trying to assess their motives and reaching out to try to feel their emotions, but they were guarded – extremely guarded. But nothing negative came off of them, yet. In fact, she could sense something almost loving and familial about them.

"I have a Taser in here," Rey warned, holding her bag up threateningly. "And I know how to use it."

Leia chuckled. "I don't think there's any concern about that. But if my brother here deserves it, by all means, have at it."

Luke smacked his sister on the arm. "We're holding up traffic. Shall we?"

Leia took Rey's hand, clasping it tenderly. Rey immediately soaked up a warmth from her touch.

"We're not going to hurt you," Leia whispered in Rey's head. "But we can't talk about this in public. You know how they feel about us."

"Okay," Rey agreed, letting herself be led to the car. What more did she have to lose?