awakening

by green-lights-n-rabbit-holes98

Something is rotten in the town of Riverdale. Sabrina must come to terms with her choices before the odds turn against new. The Uktena, once forgotten by the Serpents, makes a powerful resurgence, led by no other than a descendant of the founding members. And Alice has to decide once and for all - to let the guilt of her past swallow her or to embrace her roots as a witch.

2. What Ever Happened to the Witches

SABRINA

It shouldn't have gone this way. The point of me asking Salem to take care of Midge was to solely have her experience a change of heart, a way to not act so cruel and demanding. Midge wasn't supposed to die. And neither was Chuck. Now they're both six feet under and I'm still walking above them.

An investigation has opened in regards to her murder, part of which was instigated by Mrs. Klump after she came after Sheriff Keller for not doing his job. This was never Sheriff Keller's fault. I'm angry I allowed this to happen. I'm angry at Salem for even thinking of committing this awful of a crime. Where has he disappeared off to? Why hasn't he returned to the trailer park, or even back at school? And….and where did this Black Hood business come from? What kind of a cover up is that? All Salem is doing is sending the town into further hysteria! And I thought the Riverdale Reaper gave everyone a scare! It's like he's trying to emulate the freak. It's not right. But I let him do that. I gave him a reason to fuel the chaos.

I'm silent staring down at Midge's grave. The dash between the years of her life stand out on this gravestone. The dash means she'll never go to college, she'll never move up in the world, she'll never have a family of her own. The dash represents how quickly her life was taken away. I feel the tears roll down my face captivated by this dash. I just wish I didn't have this guilt draping over me. I wish I didn't suffer through it alone.

The funeral just ended, with Ginger, Tina, and all the other Vixens weeping in a huddle, with Sheriff Keller doing his best to maintain the peace, and with V and her father, and the Joneses, and Aunt Ali, standing by one another not saying a word. Everyone in town came out here to mourn her, way more than who came to Chuck's pep rally just days ago. The funeral came together so quickly, I've lost track of the days gone by. They cancelled school today to allow for the student body to attend. Some of my classmates suspect that midterms will be cancelled due to the recent events and tragedies. They joke it will be a good early Christmas present. Others want the time to grieve and to spend more time with family. My heart breaks for the Claytons and the Klumps, for their families will never be healed and whole again.

Despite the differences of opinions, all the kids at school are scared and, rightfully, angry. They're scared because Midge was slaughtered in the walls of a sanctuary to most. They're angry because Midge's death is being taken more seriously than Chuck's. They believe he was murdered (which he was) and not mauled by a bear, and despite his awful deeds, he should have been given more recognition. When Sheriff Keller publicly announced the hunt for Midge's killer, students organized and protested outside of the school, and during the school day. They walk out of classes, purposefully miss after school events to organize. I understand their anger. What I….what Salem did has exposed an ugly truth that Riverdale wants to hide.

From what I've seen and heard, there was more to Chuck Clayton than what V and I experienced. People who knew him growing up claimed him to be a quick learner, that no matter what wrongs he committed, he would acknowledge his mistakes and learn from them. He liked to draw and had wanted to go off to school to become a comic book artist. Coach Clayton verified this love of art, saying he felt that his son focused more on it than football practice. The more that I passed by the communal grieving, the more I realize that I acted irrationally. As I did with Midge. I only saw Chuck and Midge as enemies, people who weaponized their popularity and took advantage of others. Yet, I never tried to get to know them as human beings. I never learned why they resorted to their faulty behaviors. I let my own emotion get the worst of me. I put V and myself into more danger. And I gave reasons for Salem to destroy everything.

It makes me want to flee this town and return to the comfort of Aunties and Ambrose back in Greendale. But what if they hear about everything that I've done? Will they ever allow me to walk through the front door again? Will they still call me a member of the Spellman Family?

No, they wouldn't think like that. Most likely, someone in the Church would use these events as evidence in my trial that due to my lack of magical control, I need to go down the Path of Night. That it's in my blood to work under the Dark Lord's will. I'm a witch, not a child of God, they'll claim, and I know they will. Not unless I choose not to go back to Greendale. Maybe I can be transient, like Ali was. I can travel the country, go to places I've read about in books and seen in movies, figure out what kind of magic I want to settle into when I get older. I want to do better by my mother and father….

Mom and Dad. What would they say about all of this? Would they be angry at me too? They wouldn't want me to run from my troubles. They wouldn't have allowed for me to mess up this horribly. And Ali….I can't leave Ali behind and not say goodbye. She'll go into a further state of depression if I run away. Someone has to look out for her. And someone has to help V with whatever is going on with her. Her father can't be the only one. And Jughead can't write those stories on his own. And….

I have to silence my thoughts for just a moment, I have to block out the noise. All my mind is doing staring at Midge's grave is plaguing me with regret. My eyes go up from Midge's grave. I glance around the sea of people at this funeral. No one locks eyes with me, but I can see them all. I can't leave now. There's too many people I care for deeply, there's too much blood on my hands. Salem may have slaughtered them, but I placed them on the chopping block. I released him from that house. I keep allowing for his behavior to ensue. Not anymore.

I can't keep running from my mistakes. I stood my ground on my birthday, I told them I would never sign myself away. So, right now, I need to stay. I need to stop Salem from creating further chaos. I need to own up to my actions. It has to get done before I go back to Greendale. Chuck and Midge deserve to have peace, and this will be the only way they can receive that peace. In this silence, I make up my mind. I have to tell Ali what's going on tonight. If not, I'll go to the police and admit the truth to Sheriff Keller myself.

The funeral crowd starts to break off, group by group. No one comes over to Midge's grave to say a final goodbye. No one bothers to check in on the other Vixens, or me. Some pass by Mrs. Klump to say they're "sending their thoughts and prayers". I'm tempted to read the woman's mind, I want to meet her and apologize for everything. But I can't move. I can't open my mouth. I just stare at her and watch more of her world crumble at her fingertips. She won't have a daughter to come home to, and it's all my fault. At the corner of my eye, another person comes into view. A young woman with cotton candy pink hair stands under an umbrella, watching me with curious eyes. Does she know me? Does she know what I've done?

A hand presses into my shoulder. "Sabrina." My sight goes away from the mysterious young woman, I turn to the source of the new voice. Ali struggles to get her sentence out, I watch her lip quiver. I look back over at…. The pink haired woman is gone. I bring my sights back to Mrs. Klump while I wait for Ali to make her point. "You want to get something to eat? We're thinking about getting a few tables at Pop's." She glances down at the tombstone, then she notices me staring at Mrs. Klump. "Do you need a few more minutes, honey? I know you had a tough time getting along with her…."

"I'm fine, Ali." I say, turning away from Mrs. Klump. I should give her space to grieve over her daughter. Besides, I should get something in my stomach before I admit the truth to Ali. Before I admit to anyone the truth of my faults. I explain, "I could actually use good company right now." Ali gives me a sad smile. She brings her arm to fully wrap over my shoulders, and she leads me away from Midge six feet under, back to the Lodges and the Joneses.

It's crowded in the diner, most of the funeral crowd flocked over to grab a warm, cozy meal from Pop Tate. The noise of it all is getting to me. My stomach's growling, but I can't think about putting food in me when I have Midge's sliced up corpse floating in my conscious. I have to fight the urge to vomit. From the other end of the diner, I spot Moose blotting away tears with the cuff of his suit jacket. He's sitting with Archie, Reggie, and Kevin, Sheriff Keller's son. I can barely make out their conversation, but Moose is saying something about how they're clearing out Midge's locker. Every bit of her is fading away, piece by piece. He hates it, and I do too.

I can hear Ali whispering to Mister Lodge and the Joneses at the table next to ours. They took a booth, leaving us kids to catch up with one another. Jughead and his sister take one side, V and I take the other, with V against the window and me at the end cap. I want to hear what Moose is saying, but my hearing gets overpowered by the adults' voices.

You sent word to her family yet, witch? What do you think I've been scrambling to do the past couple of days? Poor girl's barely eaten since that pep rally. I can't get a word out of her either. But she and Veronica were there. They must know something….

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, 'Brina?" V places her hand over my wrist. The whispers fade out, I focus my attention back to our table. Jughead and Jellybean are staring at me. V touches my forehead. "You look green."

My eyes go back to Moose and his blubbering state. "I shouldn't have left Midge behind. I knew Salem had a hold of her, I knew something would go wrong. And…..and I still left."

"You can't keep blaming yourself for this forever." Jughead pipes up. "You're not the one who turned Midge Klump into a life-size version of Operation."

Acid reflux rises up into my throat. My eyes water. V squeezes my arm and glares at Jughead. "Not. Helping. Torombolo."

Jellybean shifts in her seat. "He's got a point. You shouldn't take on the guilt for a crime you didn't commit." My anxiety eases at the younger girl's words, but I still have to hold my tongue. Part of me wants to tell her, You wouldn't get it. You don't know what it takes to live my life. And Ali's.

But I don't. Instead, I glance over at Ali sitting at the other table. She meets my gaze and frowns. I feel horrible for what she's put up with because of me. She came to Riverdale to help me. She looked after me when I acted like a walking nightmare. And now, I feel like she has to keep me from doing things I might regret. I don't want to torture her anymore. I can't leave her in the dark about my involvement with these deaths. And about Salem's true nature.

My hands wrap around my stomach. I turn away from her and ease back into the leather cushion of this booth. My nails dig into the flesh of my upper arm. I shift my eyesight towards the world outside. Trees sway with the wind on the other side of the highway. Cars zoom past, some pull into the diner to follow the pattern of everyone else inside. I wonder where Salem has wandered off to. I wonder when…..if….he will come back.

"The next time I see Salem…." I voice to our group, "he better be ready to face the consequences of his actions. I won't let him trick me. Not anymore."

"How did your cat trick you?" Jellybean raises the question. Oh no. I forgot she doesn't know. I only told Jughead about what's going on, not his sister. My brain floods my head with worried thoughts. If I admit everything to Jellybean, how will I know she can keep these secrets? What if she's the one that breaks the truth to Ali? No, it has to be me. No one else can get hurt. My hands shake. Sweat drips down my back. The younger Jones tilts her head at me. "He's not an ordinary cat, is he?"

Jughead sees my state of panic, and he nudges her arm. "That's enough, Jeebs." The Jones kids break out into a quiet argument, not wanting to attract the attention of their parents. Meanwhile, my hands lose control of the shaking. My eyes go back to Moose. My stomach turns to knots when I see how much more broken he's become since the funeral. I took away someone he loved. I took away a teammate. I almost took his life. And now he has to live with the ghosts of his peers haunting him. Moose looks up and sees me. The life in him has faded away.

I stumble out of the booth, I grip on the table to keep myself from falling over. V gasps, "'Brina!" My movement causes the whole diner to stare at me. Even Ali and the other adults. She grows panicked for my well being. "Sabrina…." She moves away from Mister Lodge to stand up and help me.

"NO!" I have to back away from her, from everyone near me. Sparks run through my fingertips. I don't want to use my witchcraft on Ali, she doesn't deserve it. But if that's what will prevent her and the others from getting hurt…. I can't make any of them stay away. They'll be with me until Salem, or even the Dark Lord himself, brings them to their demise one by one. I have to get out of Riverdale. No. I have to turn myself into the police. Salem is my familiar, I'm responsible for him. I have to confess.

I take one step back, then another, adjusting my coat so it cocoons me tighter. "I…." I stutter on my words. "I have to go. I'm sorry." Without wasting one minute further, I bolt out of the diner. I don't wait for anyone to call out for me. I don't wait for Aunt Ali, or V, to follow me out of Pop's.

My feet skate on the icy road. I almost stumble and twist my ankle a couple of times, but I can't slow down. I need to get to the police station. I need to straighten this all out with Sheriff Keller. And when I get a chance, I need to find a way to unbound myself from Salem. I contemplate whether I should use a conjuring spell to make Salem return from his hiding place. I could laugh….why should I bother? He wouldn't want me to disappear and go off to jail. Or worse, die. He would have to appear somehow. Someway. He's my familiar, whether or not he acts on his own accord.

Buildings from downtown grow around me. I run past the graveyard, where I was just hours ago. Don't worry, Midge and Chuck, I send a loving note towards the gravestones. I'm going to make things right. I promise. A few families strolling along their young children give me funny looks when I pass them. I spot the places where Chuck and Midge made some of their last public appearances. The movie theater, where V and Chuck had their ill fated night out. The coffee shop, where Midge asked what my priorities were. Blue and red lights flash down the street, close by the town hall. A group of police officers block the steps into the building, holding off protesters from school and all over town. Their voices and their cardboard posters scream JUSTICE FOR CHUCK. Neither side makes a move, it's a war of strategy. No one wants bloodshed, yet no one will stand the deaths of more people in Riverdale. In the middle of the line of police, Sheriff Keller begs for protesters to stay calm, for his crew of police to hold off their attacks. I don't know if I have a shot at getting to him through this crowd. I don't know if he'll even consider listening to me with the chaos ensuing. But it's worth a try.

I step my way through gaps. I keep my sights on my person of interest. "Sher….Sheriff Keller!" I call out, squeezing myself between two of my classmates. I accidentally bump into one. She shoves me off, screaming at me to watch it. The protesters raise their voices. "Excuse me!" I raise my voice over the screaming. "I….I have to get to Sheriff Keller! Please, let me through!" The crowd blends more together in unity. If only I knew a spell that can send me down the middle. But these people have a right to be out here. They have a right to gather and speak out. What I did to Chuck was not called for. V and I should have handled the situation better. Maybe that terrifying voice floating around in my ears was right. I have to do better. I must do better.

A gap forms a few rows ahead of me. This is my shot. I make a break for the gap, ducking down under arms and shuffling between statue-like feet. For once, I'm happy that I'm not tall and lanky. It makes my escape to the front ten times easier. The faster I move, the more clearly I can see Sheriff Keller through the crowd. He doesn't see me right away, he remains in his place maintaining the peace between the opposing groups.

"SHERIFF KELLER!" I finally get to the front, standing face to face with him. He looks down at me, almost in disbelief, and he grows worried. I yell over the shouting voices around me, "I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU! IT'S ABOUT CHUCK AND MIDGE!"

He comes down the steps, hovering over me. "Sabrina, what are you doing out here? This isn't safe!"

"We have to go to the police station! You have to take me there!" I plea. He looks like he still doesn't get it. I reach for his arms, "Please, Sheriff Keller! I need to confess!"

"Confess?" he scoffs. I attempt to drag him away from this scene, between the differing crowds. He won't move. "Sabrina, what the hell are you talking about?"

I whip my head back at him, screaming, "I'M GUILTY! I WAS THERE WHEN CHUCK AND MIDGE DIED! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO SAVE THEM! I'M THE REASON THEY'RE…."

Over the yelling, a small noise catches my attention, something like a cat's meow. I glance around me, my ears beginning to ring. Mouths move, arms pump in the air. My heartbeat flies out of my chest. Up on the highest step of the town hall, I see a tiny black figure rest on its hindlegs. My limbs go numb. I feel dizzy. I could swear my nose has gone dry, like it could bleed.

"Sabrina?" Sheriff Keller waves his hand in front of my face. "Sabrina? Hey, what's going on? What's this about you being at the death scenes?"

Don't, a violent hiss rings in my head. Water forms in my eyes. I know it's Salem, even from that far away. He lifts his head at me. Don't disgrace yourself like this, Sabrina. You can't fix what's already been done. If I don't leave now, if I can't confess now, I may never get another chance.

"I'm sorry." I speak. While I make it look like I'm speaking to Sheriff Keller, I'm really speaking to Salem. "I have to do what's right." I take Sheriff Keller's hand, lifting my head higher, and I start to head towards the open space.

A high-pitched growl silences everything. An angry voice, one that only I can hear, booms.

NO. I WON'T LET YOU.

Sharp electricity goes through me, freezing each limb, each organ. It's so painful, but I can't cry out for help. I can't make a single noise, my mouth has gone numb. My eyes struggle to stay open. My ankles wobble, my arms shake. My head throbs. What has Salem done to me? At the other end of the crowd, a familiar pair of faces, a tall blonde and a shorter raven-haired girl, spot me. They say something, but I can't read their lips, I can't hear anything.

Everything slowly fades to black. I'm out cold before I hit the ground.

XXXXXXXX

Colors flash violently. Voices go in and out. Monsters dance. Animals fight. I hear my father telling me to stay strong. I hear my mother telling me to run, the same way she did the night of my birthday.

My eyelids feel heavy, like they were glued down to each other. It takes a little while to flutter them open, but when I do, it's hard to see. I can vaguely make out a warm light to the side of me. Something above me circles at a rapid pace. Bed sheets cover my shivering body. I run my fingers along a blanket. While I absorb my surroundings, I can hear people whispering in low voices.

I've scanned every part of her brain. I don't understand what could have caused her seizure. You don't think this is Hal's doing, is it? Alice…. I knew something was wrong that night, Hiram. I knew she wasn't feeling well. Oh, why didn't I pick up on it sooner?

I come back to my senses. I feel hot and sweaty all of a sudden. A throb in my head kicks in. I wince at the pain. At the door frame, Aunt Ali and Mister Lodge look over at me. She's been crying, I can see the wet streak marks on her cheeks. What were they talking about? What happened to me, where am I now? And….and who is Hal?

Something builds in my throat. I cough, tasting an unsettling sticky liquid in my mouth. I sniffle when Ali hurries over to my side. "Hey, honey." she speaks to me in a calm tone, sitting down next to me. I try to sit up, but I get nauseous. She brings the back of her hand to my forehead. "It's okay. Rest."

I look around. How did we end up back in the trailer park? "Ali…." I sound weak. Beads of sweat form on my hairline. "What….what happened…."

"You had a seizure in front of town hall." Mister Lodge explains, to my horror. I thought I could feel my limbs shake before I... He pushes away from the door frame and comes to the edge of the bed. Out in the kitchen behind him, I spot V. She rushes into the room with a smile. Before she can say a word, Mister Lodge continues, "You were trying to get Sheriff Keller away from the protest outside the building when…." He pauses mid-sentence. He brings his hand to his mouth and pushes his fingers together. Can he not get the words out?

Ali fills in the gaps for him. "Well, we can't exactly figure out how or why it happened. It….it just did." I finally notice the faint colors coming from the window. Pale orange, purple, and yellow reflect onto the bed sheets. It's morning? How long have I been….

"We're just happy you're okay, 'Brina." V throws in. She moves away from her father and sits down on the bed next to Ali. "You kind of scared all of us. We thought you wouldn't wake back up for a while." A pit falls in my stomach. I guess I'm lucky I could force my eyelids to open. But how did it lead up to this?

Ali makes small circles on my wrist with her fingers. "Sabrina," she starts, "do you….remember anything? Before you passed out? Do you know why you went to see Sheriff Keller?" I rest my head against the pillow. I need a second to wrap my head around the events from….I don't know what day it is anymore. My sense of time has gone out of whack. But I need to remember. I went to see Sheriff Keller during a protest, I remember my classmates and their peers fighting for Chuck. I remember the sadness before I showed up to that protest. Midge Klump's funeral. Moose crying at the diner. Jughead's little sister sensing a connection to….Salem.

He's not an ordinary cat, is he?

My fingers curl around the blanket. My heart could fly out of my chest. I went to own up to Chuck and Midge's deaths to Sheriff Keller. I saw Salem at the steps of town hall. I collapsed when I heard him scream at me to stop. My mouth falls open, I struggle to breathe properly. That's why I'm in this bed. Salem caused me to have a seizure. And….and now I think I've come down with a horrid sickness. It makes sense now. Salem doesn't want me to accept the guilt like a coward. He doesn't want me to leave him. He'd rather I die than separate myself from him.

I hear a small chirp rise from the kitchen. My nose flares. My eyes go to the source of the noise. Salem is sitting on the stove top, looking into the bedroom. His bright eyes meet mine. He doesn't mutter a word, he just glares. He's gotten what he wanted, and I don't have the strength to fight back.

I fail to lift a finger at him, but I can feel my hand hover in his direction. "Stay away." I hiss, it sounds more like a whisper. Ali raises her brow in confusion. V turns to her father. Salem chirps once more. I won't let him play innocent anymore.

I scream, "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" My voice creates a ripple of energy, shaking the entire trailer. The light on the drawer next to us flickers. Salem stands his ground, despite the ripple. I can't believe him. He caused me to get sick! He destroyed my chance of letting Chuck and Midge pass peacefully. I'm flabbergasted. Disgusted. I feel betrayed. How could he act so cruelly? How could…. A wave of nausea hits me, I could throw up right here. I wheeze and gag, tears form in the corners of my eyes. Ali pulls me close and rubs my back. I wince when my body temperature fluctuates. Why won't this pain go away?

Mister Lodge looks back out to the kitchen, noticing Salem on the stove top. "It's the cat. We have to get it out of here." He starts to march over to the kitchen. Salem perches up on his back legs and hisses at Mister Lodge.

V rises up from the bed, "Daddy, wait! Don't touch him!" She rushes to her father's side before he can get his hands on Salem. She steps out with her hands in front of her. "Not yet. Just….let me think of something." I don't quite understand what could V do to help the situation. Salem made me sick, what if she comes down with the same thing as me? What if she has a seizure too?

"V…." I cough, catching her attention. She tells her father to hold off on grabbing at Salem before she returns to the bed. She goes to my other side and takes my hand. Hot tears stream down my cheeks. "V….I don't want Salem to hurt you."

"He won't." she reassures me. "At least I don't think he will. He's calm around me."

"What exactly are you suggesting, Veronica?" Ali inquires. V stares down at the bed sheets for a moment. She hasn't vocalized her plan, but I think I know what she wants to do. I hate to admit it, but I'm at a crossroads here. I fear that she'll fall down the same path as me. But V also is right - Salem has a bond with her. He finds peace in her presence, he won't flip out or attack anyone. It's like Salem sees something in V that I haven't. Does it mean it would be a good idea? I have no clue. Maybe I should wait to see what Ali and Mister Lodge have to say about the matter. If V brings up the matter.

Eventually, V finds her voice, "Would it help if…..what if I looked after Salem? Just until Sabrina recovers?"

Ali doesn't respond. She stops rubbing my back and grips my shoulder. Mister Lodge makes bull eyes at his daughter. "Mija, no."

V jolts up. "I can do it, Daddy!" she protests. Then, she directs her case back to Ali and me, "I can make sure he gets fed and cared for properly. Whatever he needs, I can do it."

"We've never had pets in the house, mija." Mister Lodge argues back. "We deal with familiars, not stray felines. I can't risk you getting hurt. And how do you know if this cat's not the one who-"

I see her fists curl. Little black lines appear between her knuckles. I only now realize that V's pearls are not around her neck. The black and dark purple lines spread through her neck, into her jawline. With a sharp voice, V cuts her father off. "I KNOW WHAT I'M GETTING INTO, PAPI. I DON'T NEED YOU CHASTISING ME." His lips close tightly, I see the concern on his face. He's not fighting back. Has he seen V in this state before? He must have, otherwise V wouldn't have her pearls. But why would he look so afraid? V calms down, the black lines fading away. She takes a deep breath, then she begs, "Please, Daddy. Let me do this."

"It's okay, Mister Lodge." I sit up in the bed, fighting back a nauseous cough. He looks at me when I say, "I trust your daughter to look after Salem. He'll be safe with her." He sends a worried look to Ali, then he turns back to me. He gives me a sad nod of approval.

V smiles at me. "I'll keep him out of trouble, 'Brina. You focus on getting better." With that, V leaves the bedroom and heads out to the kitchen. I watch as she picks up Salem and cradles him in her arms. I hear her mutter, in a low voice, "How would you like to come stay with me for a while, pequeño duende?" He lets out a gleeful squawk, causing her to giggle.

My headache returns. I can't breathe out of my nose. Everything is either too hot or too cold. I feel achy and sore. I cough again.

Ali lays me down. "Shhh….you stay here." She gets up from the bed to speak with Mister Lodge. "You keep me updated if anything happens with that cat. Okay?" He places his hand on her cheek and nods. They stay like this for a while, then, he eventually leaves the room, walking out of the trailer. Ali waits for the Lodges to disappear before she goes into the bathroom for something. She comes out with a damp towel and places it on my forehead. It's cool to the touch. She cups my face and says to me, "Sounds like you need some chicken soup and tea."

XXXXXXXX

ALICE

It'd be a little nice if I could hear from Hilda and Zelda. I've sent a message to them regarding Sabrina's health since her rather violent seizure and unexpected illness. I keep asking for advice, I keep asking if I should just send her back to Greendale so she can recover under their care. I've sent a letter every day of this week. And what do I get in response? Nothing. Not a single word for days. It's like my efforts to reach out are getting blocked intentionally, or the Spellmans are choosing to ignore their niece as punishment for her rebellion. Regardless of the circumstances, the silence is making me concerned.

And I'm trying like crazy to wean the poor girl back into good health. Pop allowed me to take the rest of the week off from work so I can look after her. During this time, I've given her herbal remedies, I've performed healing spells, I've stayed up to make sure that she didn't go into more seizures. She's beginning to recover rapidly, which is good, but the whole process is still nerve racking. The days have drained me. The late nights worrying, and the early mornings scrambling to put sentences together for Hilda and Zelda, leave me uneasy. On top of all of this, I'm still fighting off what Hal did to me at the school. I don't feel as nauseous or faint as I did, which is a good sign. Yet, I wonder if whatever I came down with has rubbed off onto Sabrina. Sometimes I wonder if I should have done more to keep her safe the last night of Midge's life.

Luckily, Gladys and FP have dropped by to bring us meals, so I haven't felt a compelling need to constantly cook. Their boy drops off class notes and homework assignments for Sabrina, but I don't think she's touched anything school related all week. And Hiram….he's kept me somewhat sane through it all. He's there when I need to vent on the phone late at night. He'll walk around town with me when I need to stretch my legs. He lets me borrow Edgar so I can send off messages to the Spellmans. He'll come and eat with me when the absence of Sabrina's liveliness kicks in. I mean, Gladys and FP come over to share meals with me too, but something about Hiram being there just….it soothes me. I don't think I'd be able to get through it all if it weren't for him. He provides a light to get me out of my darkness. I do feel awful for nagging him about feedback from the Spellmans. I know he can't do much to speed up the process or to force the Spellmans into writing back. He's not at fault here, I'm just anxious and I'm struggling to focus on another topic for the time being.

It's finally the weekend, and Sabrina is showing major signs of improvement. Yesterday she was able to move around and get some schoolwork done without coughing up a storm or gagging. She doesn't need me as much to look after her now, so I think I might give myself a break and leave the trailer, just for a little while. Earlier, Hiram and I agreed to change the view and spend time in his study at Pembrooke over coffee. We both want to get back into the Riverdale Reaper…..or should I just say it's Hal, now that I know the truth? The revelation of the whole damn thing leaves me up at night, if I'm not already freaking out over Sabrina. I can't have a peaceful sleep without seeing the Conways lying all motionless and bloody in their house. I can't tell what disturbs me more - the fact that Hal murdered a family without any rhyme or reason, or the fact that it was Hal that killed those people and caused the mass hysteria. The first couple of days after Midge, I had trouble talking about what I saw to Hiram and the Joneses. I could recall the visions clearly in my head, but the words wouldn't dare leave my mouth. My silent behavior freaked out JB the most. Last night, she had a little panic attack while paying me a visit because she thought I lost the light, that Hal stole it from me. That I'm about ready to give up on our mission because of what happened to me in that bathroom. The girl wept in my arms as I had to reassure her that I was still me. That Hal didn't break me….not just yet. I had to carry her back to the Jones' trailer when she fell asleep.

I stare up at the Jones's trailer from my car, half contemplating if I should grab JB so she can join Hiram and me in our research. I'm back on my grind, I don't have to worry so much over Sabrina, and I'm more than ready to find Hal's Achilles' Heel. But have I dragged the poor girl into a hole she may not get out of so easily? Maybe…..maybe not. I think for right now, I should let JB sleep in. Let her spend time with FP and Gladys. Let her enjoy her youth while she still has it. I finalize the decision when I pull out of the driveway, heading towards Pembrooke.

An eerie sensation makes my bones ache. Is someone watching me? I glance around as I go to merge onto the main road. No one's out…..except for a girl with pink hair. She stares at me just for a little while, then she turns away. Honestly, I'd go out and chase after her, just to see what she wants, but I have my priorities elsewhere for now. I push the image of the girl out of my head and keep driving.

The main street of downtown is quiet when I park my car. I send a quick text to Sabrina to let her know of my whereabouts, just in case for whatever reason she needs me to return. I shove my phone back into my purse and glance around the street. The only people moving around at this time in the morning are some patrons at the coffee shop, a pair of joggers buzzing by with their headphones on, and a familiar face coming down the steps of Pembrooke to greet me.

The coffee is bitter when I sip on it, despite the amount of sugar packets I throw in. Okay, it's not that bitter, but my mood is. My fingers cling to the warm ceramic cup when Hiram gives me the update on my newest letter. I sigh in frustration, "So….nothing?"

"If I had any word by now, Edgar would have dropped the letter on my desk, Alice." he reasons with me. I'm not taking it out on him, I don't want it to come off that way. I just keep my mouth shut and bite my lip. He folds his hands on top of his desk, "Believe me, I'm equally concerned about the lack of communication. This isn't like Zelda and Hilda to remain this radio silent. Especially when it comes to Sabrina's health."

I release my lip at the last part. I set my cup down on the little table next to me, and I get up from the loveseat. I start pacing back and forth in front of the fire, "Are they just pissed at me, or her? Do they think that not responding back is a form of…..unspoken punishment?" I'm ranting at this point, but I'm only trying to make sense of my thoughts here.

Hiram tilts his head at me. "What could they resent you for? Breathing?" I let out a stifled, angry laugh and point a finger at him.

"I wish that was it, but it's more than that." My finger falls to my side. I stop pacing for a second and just glance into the fire. I can't bear to look at him now….okay, it's actually that I don't want him to see me fall apart. Again. For the millionth time. I clasp my hands together without much thought. I'm preoccupied on the topic of conversation. I feel the dryness in my throat when I speak, "They probably think that I'm not fit to look after a child. That….letting me care for Sabrina is just a test, only to prove that I'm incapable. That I'll never be as good as them, and that….." I have to stop talking, right now I'm rambling with no point. I chew on my tongue to slow myself down. To get myself to quit thinking so negatively. But my fears are valid, aren't they? Long before Sabrina's birthday, I remember talking with Zelda about how the younger generation behaved. It took place in my shop, just after a few teenagers from Baxter rushed out with sweets and a cringy fortune I gave to scare them all straight. I can't exactly recall what was said, mostly because I blocked out half of it, but what she implied that day didn't, and still doesn't, sit with me right.

You're going to have kids of your own at some point, am I correct? You don't have that many years left, since you're a half-breed.

I still question to this day if she considered my mixed blood as an indicator of being a bad mother. It's not that I never contemplated the idea of wanting a child, but…. I did think about having a child back when I was still a young witch, back when Hal didn't exist in my life. Being with Hal changed that. I was petrified of getting close to people, creating an offspring that I couldn't protect, that I couldn't admit the truth of my past to. I didn't want that child to recognize its mother as a monster. That notion kept me isolated up until Sabrina came into the picture. And the more I came to get to know her family, her wants and fears, what I needed to do to step up as a motherly figure for her, how I should view….

I rotate my head over my shoulder to look at Hiram. "How can you do it?" my voice leaves my body as a wounded whisper. He doesn't quite understand the question at first, so I have to fill in the gaps. "How have you been able to raise Veronica all on your own?" His gaze goes distant towards the fire. His fingers curl on top of the desk, his face furrows.

The period of silence passes, and he rises from his seat. He presses his palms downward, hanging his head low. I hear him mutter, "It's not a walk in the park, Alice. That's for sure." I watch him lift his head back up and move around his desk to come next to me. "Every day is a challenge when it comes to raising her. I'm either too demanding of her, or….I can't stop her before she flies too close to the sun. It took me a long while to figure out how to behave the way a parent should…." He pauses for a moment, his gaze still at the flames in the fireplace. He looks caught up in a memory, I'm guessing it might be something involving Hermione.

Eventually, Hiram finds his voice again. "I applauded Hermione for having that motherly instinct in her. I knew I wanted to be a father, but….the fact that it took Hermione dying for me to finally step up as Veronica's father, to really, truly care for her…." He goes quiet, he sounds like he could break down. I could say something, to dissuade him of this self-deprecation. But I don't say anything. I just take a gentle hold of his hand. That finally brings him to face me. "I blamed myself for years if Veronica did something wrong. I believed that any of her acts of rebellion, her troubles at school, were a bad reflection of my parenting. I believed it was proof…"

I end up tuning him out. Not that I don't mean to, but I'm getting back into my head. His words reflect my thoughts, almost exactly. How can you protect a child if you don't know how to love them? And how can you love them if that child isn't yours to begin with?

Hiram eventually picks up on my silence and stops speaking. He blinks at me a few times, the confused face morphs into something more wondering. He asks, "You're worried that the Spellmans will blame you?" I have to take my eyes off of him. I don't have the slightest idea of how to respond. Will they blame me for Sabrina refusing the Path of Night? Will they blame me for bonding with her over being half-witches? Will they blame me if she…..if she…. I let go of his hand and start pacing again. I stay silent at first, but Hiram throws in, "You think they will pin their troubles on you?"

I throw my hands up in the air. "I don't know!" I fire back at him, more harshly than I anticipated. I can feel my heartbeat elevating with my anxiety. I need to calm down, but the nagging voice in the back of my head keeps telling me otherwise. I ramble while burying my head into the space between my arms, "I know they'll say I didn't do enough. Every little thing I've done to help her grow up within the last few years, including now, will be seen as an offense to the Church. They'll think I ruined the Spellman Family reputation."

"But you haven't." Hiram addresses me calmly. My hands move to my hair, my nails dig in. I shut my eyes….. Daisies and candles. Do what Gladys said. Daisies and candles. I see Hiram's feet in front of my own. I feel his hands float like feathers across my forearms. "Alice, look at me." I hesitate to lift my head up, I don't want him to see me so panicked. Then after a moment or two, I bring my eyes to meet his. "You have not tarnished Miss Spellman's reputation, or her family's. You are not to blame for her time spent here." Water begins to creep into the corners of my eyes. No….the last thing I need to do now is cry. And I've already cried enough.

"What about her getting sick?" I choke out. "They'll find a way to blame me for that."

He scoffs. "Like they've never fallen ill a day in their praised lives." he blesses to add emphasis to his point. "This is your first time caring for her on your own. You're still learning. They should not be allowed the right to judge you for simply looking after her." A dark thought creeps into my consciousness. It makes my eyes bulge, it freezes my jaw. The words echo in my brain. She's recovering, but what if she relapses? What if she dies?

He must have read my thoughts, because he removes my hands from their tight grip on my hair and eases them into his own. "Sabrina will recover, Alice. She's a strong, young witch. She'll turn out just fine." On one hand, he is right. Sabrina's gained back some of her spunk in the past two days. I think it's helped that the cat isn't around…. Crap. I almost forgot about the cat entirely. Hiram's daughter offered to look after him, that I do remember. But if I have confirmed what I think happened to the damn thing….and in regard to Hiram's history with me….

"And Hal?" I sound so dead, I half-scare myself. And I think I scare Hiram too. My eyes lose the intense bulging, but my jaw still feels tight, even when I'm grinding my teeth back and forth. A gulp of saliva runs down my throat before I vocalize the possibilities. "If they find out about Hal, and they tell her before I get the chance…..or if he kills her, and I have to…." My voice gives out. The water in my eyes begs for release. I have to bark myself down. No, Alice. Do not cry. You're stronger than this. You need to stay strong. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry….

Too late. I don't make any noise, but I can feel the tears streaming down my hot cheeks. And it's all unfolding right in front of him. I'm so embarrassed right now. Granted, it's not the first time I've shed tears to Hiram Lodge, but this time it's like I'm committing a grand scandal. Like I've been caught for a crime and I know now my cruel fate. I want to stay strong, I want to develop a better poker face and keep my emotions together. But the more power Hal obtains, the weaker I feel. The more vulnerable I am. It's the reality check that I've been avoiding for the past 25 years.

Thumbs press down on the bags under my eyes. They wipe away stray tears, they stroke my cheeks. Fingertips dance along my jawline. My sniffles die out at his touch. "He will not do a thing to her." he mutters to me. "We will catch him in time before he lays another finger on you. Before he lays a finger on our girls. And if the Spellmans want to blame you, then….they will have to blame me too." He speaks with such confidence, affirming his decision with each word leaving his mouth. It calms me down, but I can still feel tears leaving my eyes. I'm not as emotional as I was when Hiram made his vow to me weeks ago, that's a given. Yet, it shocks me all the same. He's promised a shield of protection for me. He's pledged his loyalty to me. I would have never believed him if he pulled this stunt back in our younger years….

I'm letting my mind go out of control again. My string of thought has fallen off a beaten path. Damn it, I thought I'd taken the necessary steps to maintain a state of tranquility. I take in a sharp inhale of air, I can feel my lungs swell up. A short exhale comes out in the form of a scoff. "So much for my daily meditating practice." I tease in an attempt to lighten the topic of conversation. When he raises a brow at me, I clarify my point, "I'm trying to get back into it….not that I was really ever into it, but….I'm doing it to calm myself down." I pause for a second to gesture to my puffy, wet face, "And clearly, it has not worked."

He takes his fingers off of my face, leaving one hand lifted by his face. His fingertips swirl, like he's in deep thought. They move together quickly to produce a snapping noise. He redirects his focus onto me and points a finger. "I may have a better approach." Then, he moves to the middle of his study, fixing his shirt along the way. He points over to another area of his shelves, "I have some records over there. Pick out which one you want to put on." Before I can ask what he's planning on doing with said records, Hiram lowers down to the wood floor and lays flat.

Well this is different. And really confusing. I stare at him all funny. "You're…..lying on the floor."

"That's the point." he fires back with a smirk. "I'm serious, Alice. Put on any of my albums. I've got everything from Tchaikovsky, to Sinatra, to The Police. So, pick your poison." My eyes go over to the supposed shelf of records. They're all stacked neatly on top of one another, categorized by genre, I'm guessing, or by artist, I can't tell from this far away. I teeter on my toes as I float over to these records, running my fingers along the wooden shelves. So he does have them categorized - first by genre, then subcategorized by artist. I scan through each layer, reading the names on the covers. I don't want anything too upbeat and filled with sing-songy lyrics, yet I'm not in the mood for something that's seriously classical. Mellow….yeah, that's what I need right now, just something mellow.

One record on the shelf catches my eye. I have to hold back a chuckle as I remove the record from its coveted spot between ABBA and The Eagles. Since when did Hiram listen to the Bee Gees? Let alone have any interest in Saturday Night Fever? Okay, I confess, the movie sucks but the soundtrack redeems it. A few of the songs are featured on the playlists Ambrose made for my bakery. Gladys and I danced around Pop's to the one Yvonne Elliman song on the soundtrack. Oh, screw it. I could use some happy music. I yank the vinyl disk out of the sleeve and place it onto the record player over in the other corner. I wait for it to start spinning before I set the pin down on a random spot. The last minute of Staying Alive echoes in the room, transitioning onto the next track, which is much slower. I wait a second or two, then I take my place next to Hiram on the floor.

The breeze from the ceiling fan drifts downward. The music bounces off the walls. My hands rest on top of my stomach, my eyes flutter shut. Should I attempt to do my breathing exercises here? Maybe get some sleep? I open my eyes again, staring up at the ceiling while I talk with him. "So…..what is this supposed to do?"

"It may take a while to settle in." he replies. "But it's meant to be a reset button. A way to recharge magic." I dig my head further into the wood, rolling it up and down. Then, I rotate my head over to him, and he copies my motion. "When I use Blue on you, do you hear the music?" I stay quiet for a moment, filing back through my recent memories until I think I grasp what he's asking me. Adagio in G Minor. The Tchaikovsky song. I nod my head. "All that music comes from doing this." he says, using a finger to make an imaginary circle. It takes me a bit to realize that he's referring to the music coming out of the record player. "I lay here on the floor and absorb the sounds around me. I spend hours down here, even after the records stop playing. Lately, I just do it to help me fall asleep. Veronica's caught me a couple of times when she's getting ready to go to bed."

"You think it's insomnia?"

"Maybe. But I would rather have my daughter catch me laying on the floor instead of sitting out in the main room drinking rum at 3 am." He ends the sentence with a playful smoulder. I have to look away from him to keep myself from laughing. I really shouldn't be mocking his late night tendencies, I struggle with the insomniatic urges too. There have been nights where I can't fall asleep and I sit in my bed letting my mind wander. Every time, the thoughts go back to the past, to Hal. On those nights, I consider herbal remedies, or any depressant, to shut my brain up, but I'm unsuccessful. I resort to taking walks around my neighborhood, or I bake a few pastries and get ready to open shop in the mornings.

I see why this method of meditating works for him. The music overpowers the inner voices. Laying on the floor numbs the body. I can see the effects working on me now. My eyelids grow heavy. My brain doesn't produce one bad thought or replay any bad memories. Over the background lyrics, Hiram asks, "Are you starting to feel better?" The stiffness overtaking my face decreases. I lazily glare up at the ceiling fan before I bring my cheek down to the wood.

I can feel his breath on me. His hand is so close to my own, our fingertips could touch if I just move an inch closer to him. For the first time, I'm not worrying over Sabrina. I'm not hyper fixating on my past with Hal. I'm not figuring out how to fight for my life. For the first time, the only thing I focus on is the color of Hiram's eyes, the smoothness of his skin, the lyrics of this song that play when I look at him.

And you may not think I care for you

When you know down inside

That I really do

I respond back, "It's nice." His eyes go up to meet mine. To my surprise, they're soft. Maybe the softest I've ever seen his eyes, or maybe I just haven't paid any attention to how he's looked at me when we're together. Now I do.

Without much thought, I slide my fingers across the floor to graze them against his. One finger curls around mine, more fingers reach for my palm. Teen Alice would wig out. She wouldn't want anyone near her. And yet, I still craved touch. I just needed to break my walls down on my own terms. I needed someone to trust, to understand my fragile state of mind. Maybe I still do.

I rest my palm over his, I slide my fingers in between his. I didn't expect his hand to feel so warm, but it is, and it's calming. His thumb strokes over the first knuckle on my hand. His smirk fades into a gentle smile. Am I losing my mind, or is my heart pounding louder? My blood pulses through my veins at a faster rate. I shift myself closer to him, and he follows in suit. We tap our foreheads together. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a moment to absorb what's happening, how I'm reacting.

"Not that you really needed to know this, but…." he breathes out, breaking our little moment of silence. "You're kind of the only person I've done this with…..since I did this with my mother. She introduced me to the idea of it when my witchcraft kicked in. A majority of those records belonged to her." I can hear the pain in his voice.

"You could do Blue that early on?"

"Yeah. I had to use it on myself quite often after my mother passed. I wore the spell out so much, I became so weak. I had to resort to other types of music, hence the extensive collection." A strand of hair falls into my face, forcing my eyes to open. I watch as Hiram lifts his hand to slide the hair strand behind my ear. "The different music genres help to strengthen it. I've even had some inspiration to listen to new artists, thanks to my daughter. But she hasn't joined me to sit in on my recharging. Nobody has. Just you." The bottom of his palm sits on my cheek. I can't help but bring my free hand to squeeze onto his forearm. The corners of my mouth lift. He's sharing more of his world with me, he's letting me in on the secret of how he ticks. Underneath our words, the song repeats its chorus over and over.

'Cause we're living in a world of fools

Breakin' us down

When they all should let us be

One thought lingers in the back of my brain. If he sits in his study with this musical meditating practice,and I am the only person to take part in it…. I mutter to him, "Don't you get lonely?"

He can't really shake his head to indicate a "no", so he makes the expression with his eyes. "At this point, I'm used to it. Actually gets comfortable the more you start doing it."

"You find a wooden floor comfortable?" I tease him. He nods at me, bringing back his smirk. "So….you're telling me, you don't find it creepy laying in here by yourself?" He gives his head a baby shake. I think he's catching on to my wordplay here, but I keep going just to entertain myself. "Really? And you don't go mad hearing your own heartbeat on this floor, thinking it might belong to someone else?"

That causes him to cackle. "Wow. Little morbid there, Edgar Allen Poe." My nose crinkles when I giggle. My fingers patter on the fabric of his cardigan. His thumb glides across my cheek. It's at least a good thing to know that Hiram isn't living The Tell-Tale Heart. Although, I could see him as a bibliophile staying up at night, reading a story about a man going mad-

A man going mad. Sheriff Howard. The Conways. HAL.

I go upright. The record cuts off. My hand goes to my chest as it rises up and down. "Alice?" Hiram sits up and places his hand on my back. "What is it? Did he go after someone else?" I can't form words right away, I'm trapped in that one thought. How did I not put the pieces together before?

"Alice…."

"When did Howard reopen the case?" I cut him off. I have to catch my breath for a second before I keep rolling, "Tom Keller said Howard re-investigated the Conway Massacre. When did it happen?" Hiram sits on my rapid firing of questions to process it all. I did come at him rather quickly with it, but if what I'm thinking is correct….it may be one step closer to uncracking how to destroy Hal.

"Keller said he was looking into it up until his death-"

He's not getting what I'm asking. So, I jump in with, "Was it before or after I left?" He looks away from me. He's got his mind on something, I can see it in his face.

"It must have been after. Because with our classmates dead, and no killer to be found, he would have wanted to find a connection, so that's why he went to the house…." His hand leaves my back and falls to the floor. His face falls.

He looks at me with a fearful realization in his eyes. "Hal was in the house during Howard's investigation." The horror goes away, it finally clicks in his head. "Unholy shit." Hiram immediately stands up, taking my hand so I too can be back on my feet. "Howard went in the house after you trapped Hal in there."

"That's why he went crazy!" I grasp onto both of his forearms. "Hal wouldn't have wanted Howard to find out the truth, so he deliberately drove the man mad." On one hand, I pity Howard for the mental torture he endured in his final years, but on the other hand…. I begin thinking out loud, "Howard would have kept records on his research. Keller said he was trying to find an answer, a reason for Hal to commit those murders. If he did find anything, it'd have to be somewhere….." My voice trails off, my mind goes elsewhere. Who in town would be aware of where Howard kept his research? I don't know if Howard's family would still be residing in town, I could look, but it might be a waste of time. But…. "Keller might know."

Hiram scoffs. "Alice, you can't be serious."

My hands go up to his biceps. "Keller took over the position of Sheriff after Howard. Maybe he dealt with the paperwork Howard left behind." I find myself stepping in closer to Hiram, cupping his face with one hand. "Look, I know approaching Tom sounds sketchy, believe me….but I think this time, we may need his help."

"Why bother?" My hand leaves his face. Does he think I'm crazy? I go to ask, but he jumps in with, "I mean….why should we confront Tom Keller when we have the Conway House, empty and at our disposal?" I really don't get what he suggests. Are we going back to summon Howard's spirit, or are we….. Oh. OH.

Hiram explains, "Think about it, Alice. Howard would have left some of it there, assuming Hal didn't obliterate every word of it to pieces. If we're lucky, Howard's research may still be there. And we'd be one step closer to unsolving everything." My mouth hangs. Well, I certainly didn't think of that. And it could work. We may get our shot.

My lips curl up, my eyes light up. I squeal in delight. "Hiram, you brilliant bastard!" I take a hold of his face and lean in to one side. My eyes shut, my opposite hand curls into his hair as I kiss his cheek. It happens so fast, I stay there. My mouth hovers next to his cheek, I can feel his blood pulsing in my fingertips. I pull back slightly…. He's staring at me in wonder. Did I say something to offend him? Did my actions startle him? No….no, he's not looking at me because of that. His eyes soften. His lips go from a neutral line to a small semicircle. His hand lifts to caress my jawline. My heartbeat slows. The rhythm of my breathing matches his. The voices in my head go inaudible. It's like time has stopped. I'm at peace, and so is he.

There's a rapt at the study doors. It breaks our moment, startling us both. We just stand there for a second to come back to the present, to recognize that somebody is on the other side of that door, wondering what we're up to. The knocking occurs again, this time accompanied by a voice. "Daddy?"

I sigh in relief. It's only Veronica. I squeeze Hiram's arm and speak to him in a whisper. "You talk to your daughter. I'll get what we need."

He nods. "My tool bag should be by my desk." We let each other go, accepting that whatever we just experienced, what we may feel….it'll have to get addressed later. I start rummaging through Hiram's desk to search for the bag of divination tools. He goes over to the study doors and yanks it open. He stands with one hand on the door and the other on his hip, glaring down at his daughter. "Yes, mija?"

"I…." the young girl stutters, "I was checking to see if you were okay. I heard loud noises." I spot the bag resting against the desk on the floor. I grab at it, then I hurry over to where Hiram is standing. Veronica's stunned to see me. "Oh. Hi. I didn't…."

"Sorry for scaring you, sweetheart." I jump in to diffuse the tension. I act playful with my next sentence, "Your father and I just came up with a good way to celebrate Sabrina's recovery and I got a little too excited. That's all." The girl seems to buy it. I glance over at Hiram and give him a wink. His cheeks go red.

I grab for his hand and start to make our way out of the study. "But we should probably get going before we lose track of time." I struggle to sling the bag over my shoulder. What the hell does he carry in this thing?

"Hang on." Hiram stops us from moving. I watch him step forward and gesture back to the study. "Veronica, could you toss me my keys? They're on my desk." The girl blinks at us all confused, then she mutters an Okay and goes into the study to retrieve his keys. When she disappears, he tells me, "We have the family car in the garage downstairs. We can get there faster. Are you alright with that?"

So the Lodges don't always use a chauffeur to make their way around town. That's news to me. I go to say something back, but Veronica's out of the study with Hiram's keys in her hand. She rolls her hand back counterclockwise to underhand toss the keys to him. "I'll make sure no one breaks in, Daddy. And I know who to call otherwise."

"Good." he gives her a thumbs up. "Only call me if you need something." His grip on my hand tightens, I feel my feet going backwards. We begin to head towards the door, both of us building on the anticipation of our recent discovery."

"Wait, Alice." Veronica calls for me. I stop suddenly, and I glance over my shoulder at the girl. She hustles over to me, then stops just a few feet in front of me. I let go of Hiram's hand. Veronica turns to her father for a quick second, "I won't hold you two up, Daddy. I just need to…."

"It's fine, mija." I feel Hiram remove the tool bag from my shoulder. I watch him sling it over his own shoulder as he tells me, "I'll be by the elevator at the end of the hall." He heads out the door, leaving me in the doorway of Pembrooke. What could Veronica want? Does she want to know about Sabrina?

I face the young Lodge. "Everything okay, sweetheart?"

She looks a bit dazed. Her mind is elsewhere. She blinks at me a couple of times, then she focuses in. "Yeah, I…..I was supposed to pass a message onto you. From….um…." My good mood starts to fade, getting traded in for unease. Who wants to give me a message, and why is it coming from Veronica? More importantly….where is Sabrina's cat? Veronica glances at her door from a distance before she can tell me this supposed message. With a dead voice, she completes her messenger duty. "He says he misses you. That one way or another, he'll find his way back to you."

I….I don't know what to say. I don't understand a word that came out of her mouth. Who misses me? Who wants me…. My heartbeat quickens. My eyes wander over to that girl's bedroom door. Is Hal communicating through that cat? No….that can't be the case. Just because he may have tainted the cat, he couldn't be that insidious to speak to the girls? Besides, how would Veronica hear that cat's thoughts? Something else is at play here. Something has to explain why Hal found his way to my trailer that night….

That will have to wait for another time. Right now, my focus is on the Conway House, and what Howard left behind. I nod at the girl, not saying a word. I could ask more, but I don't want to stay another minute alone in Pembrooke, especially with that cat nearby. Luckily, Veronica takes the hint. She backs away from me and says, "I'll let you get going. Stay safe." Then, she hurries back into the sanctuary of her bedroom.

Well, that was odd. Veronica didn't seem as confident or as vocal as she normally is. I wonder if Midge Klump's death has affected her too. She looks drained, exhausted. I'm not sure if cat-sitting for Sabrina is doing her any wonders. But what do I know? I barely give the cat the time of day. Maybe it is innocent after all.

I can't leave Hiram waiting, so I head out the Lodge's front door and shut it. I spot Hiram down at the other end by the elevator, just like he described. The uneasy notion in me disappears, my positive attitude returns when I see him. My pace quickens as I make my strides toward him. By the time I'm next to him, he presses the button on the wall to call for the shaft. The elevator chimes, the doors open. We jump in and cue the shaft to go down to the lobby.

"Penny dreadful for your thoughts?" he asks me after a brief period of silence. My mind still tries to wrap around the words that came out of Veronica's mouth. Did she refer to the cat after all? Is my head playing tricks on me? Hiram taps my forearm, "What did Veronica want?"

I come up with a fast excuse. "Just curious to know how Sabrina was holding up. That's all." I turn to face him, and I send him a reassuring wink. He buys it, so I can breathe again. I glance down at the set of keys in his hand. Now I'm getting curious about this car.

"Also, I forgot to answer your question." I instigate the shift of conversation. He raises his brow at me, all intrigued. So, I lead in, "We can go in your car. Only if you let me drive, Manhattan." I go to reach for the keys in his hands. But Hiram sees what I'm attempting, and he pulls his hand away. He shakes his head at me and smirks. Oh, that's how he's going to play this game.

I step in front of him, Hiram lifts the keys into the air. I jump up in an attempt to grab them, but thump back down to the ground. I rest my forehead on his shoulder and break out into laughter. He uses his free hand to take my own. Then, he leans in to my ear, his voice lowering, "Allow me to play chauffeur for once, Acid Queen Alice. You deserve a break." My head raises to look at him. My brows raise. Is he flirting with me? He has the same glow on his face from when we had dinner together at Lenny's. He has the same attitude from the pep rally. Those warm eyes of his hold a spark in them. A wave of electricity runs through me, one I haven't experienced since I was in high school. So he is trying to flirt with me.

The elevator chimes, I whip my head at the source of the noise. The doors open again, revealing the pristine white lobby. I wait a second or two, then I cock my head at him. I lift a finger in the air. "One time. You get away with flirting with me one time." I worry for a moment that I may wound him, but he curls his lips upward.

"So I'm going to be in trouble down the road, aren't I?"

I playfully scowl at him and let out a cackle. I keep his hand tact into mine, and I lead him out of the elevator, sprinting towards the outside world.

XXXXXXXX

SABRINA

I'm actually quite glad I have the trailer to myself. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate Ali spending so much time watching over me until I recover from this sickness. But right now, I could use the quiet, and I need the solitude. It gives me a peaceful environment so I can stay focused on the multitude of schoolwork I have to catch up on. It's crazy to think that midterms are coming up soon, and Christmas is not so far behind. Also, I need the time alone to reflect on the past few weeks.

Ali and I have been in Riverdale for a month. One full month. No one from Greendale or the Church of Night has tried to persuade us to return, except for that incident with the Dark Lord. I also realize that while I miss Harvey, Roz, and Susie, I have found good friends here in Riverdale. I found another half-witch, I'm helping an aspiring journalist, I listen to a football player's original music, and I….. And I killed two of my classmates. I killed two of the most popular people in my grade year. The town is mourning, either sitting at home in prayer or out on the streets protesting. Jughead informed me on one of his visits that the protests over Chuck have leveled out, but with a price. The police are reopening his case, claiming it finally as a murder. It's a can of worms they decided to release, but the police figure it might be what ends the unrest. According to Jughead, a rumor is circulating in town that Sheriff Keller may resign from his position at the police station. We don't know for certain, Jughead said Kevin won't talk with anyone at school, but Sheriff Keller may only work Chuck's case as his last stint. Moose has been brought in on multiple occasions to recall his attack to see if any patterns appear in both Chuck and Midge's deaths. Even Jughead vocalized his fear of putting these events into the Blue and Gold. Everything is going to hell, quite literally. It's like the Dark Lord wanted this to happen, to prove that I should just go down the Path of Night and sign my name away. I hate it.

I glance down at my half-written assignment for English class, a three paragraph analysis on the newest chapter discussed of Wuthering Heights. I read the book back home a year prior, when Roz and I tried to start a book club. It just ended up being the two of us, and we had heated debates over whether or not Heathcliff deserved redemption. I laugh at the memory, then I wind up coughing. I still have a lingering tickle in my throat, and every once in a while, my head throbs, but for the most part, I'm getting back to normal. I think it's helped that Salem is not running free in this trailer. I have to thank V for getting him away. Maybe it could do him some good to be under new discipline, seeing as if I failed to condition him. Although, I haven't heard from V since my seizure. How is she doing with Salem? Is he manipulating her to strike at anyone who looks at her funny? I have to shut out the bad thoughts, I fear it could make my illness worse. I need my energy now. Once I'm done catching up on schoolwork, I need to find Jughead and get back to his article. I need to uncover what exactly went down 50 years ago, and when Ali went to Riverdale High.

I pound out this last paragraph for my assignment, not putting much thought to it. I just spew out a few proper grammatically-correct sentences essentially calling Heathcliff a sick, screwed-up monster who needs to move on. When I finish, I get up from the kitchen table, grab my coat from the back of my chair, and walk out the front door. The cold air greets me when I rush down the steps and pivot in the direction of the Jones's trailer. Snow crunches under my feet. My teeth chatter out of habit. I just hope Jughead is here and not at the library, or at the police station getting into trouble. I fly up the steps and hesitate for a moment before I bang on the front door. I'm relieved when it's Jughead who answers the door.

His eyes go wide in excitement, his grin goes from ear to ear. He adopts Dr. Frankenstein's voice, "She's alive….SHE'S ALIVE!"

I roll my eyes. "Don't make me cough on you, weirdo." He snorts at me and shuttles me into the trailer. I spy his laptop and a bunch of history books all laid out on the coffee table. Papers are scattered along the couch. So he's been busy with….his article? I hope so. I go over to the couch and grab for the closest sheet of paper, covered with scratched out notes and random words. Yet, the more I look at the random words, I realize that they have some correlation to one another. The Riverdale Reaper.

"Already back on your feet, Teenage Witch?"

I look back up at Jughead. "You can't tackle that article on your own, Jughead. I'm not going to let some illness stop me from helping you." I sit down on the couch, shoving some of the papers out of my way, and take a closer look at what's written on this paper.

Jughead plops down next to me. "Oh, don't bother trying to make sense of that. I scratched it all out for a reason." He snatches the paper from my hands and replaces it with scanned copies from a town history book. Attached to the scanned pages are newspaper clippings. "I think there's a pattern, Sabrina." he begins his pitch, pointing down to the top part of the page. "Look at the date of the clippings."

I squint my eyes to read the fine print. My eyes widen, my lips part. It's from 1992, Ali was in school during that time, I think. Jughead goes on, "That's 25 years after the Reaper killings. Then, 25 years after that…." He makes a rolling motion with his hands. He wants to see if I'm catching onto his theory. I am.

"Chuck and Midge die." Jughead plops down another scanned newspaper article into my hands, one dated from 1992. One section is circled with highlighter detailing a horrific car accident late at night. The driver lived, but she wound up never being able to walk again….. This is V's mom. The same girl from that dream I had. This is about her.

"Not even 48 hours later, the Xanadu of Riverdale burns to the ground." I glance up at Jughead, not quite catching the reference. He clarifies with a sigh, "Thornhill, on the other side of town? The Blossoms' grand estate?" Oh, now that makes sense. I forgot he mentioned the fire earlier. With all that's going on, the thought of the Blossoms escaped my mind completely.

Blossoms…. There was a Blossom who went after anyone who matched the smallest description of the Reaper. Rose, yes! That was her name! Rose Blossom! She was still alive, allegedly. But where? Where could she have gone after that horrific fire?

"You said Rose Blossom survived the fire, right?" He nods. I shift onto my side, placing the stack of articles down on the coffee table. "What if we looked into where she is now? I know we talked about holding off any sort of meeting due to our schedules, but…." I stumble on my words. Back then, I knew why we couldn't search for Rose Blossom right away, but now….I put my conflict six feet under. I hang my head, "but I don't see myself jumping back into cheerleading any time soon." Great. Here I go again, moping around, just when I thought I could stay positive. Not wanting to maintain this sour mood, I lift my head and try to sound optimistic. "Sorry. I'll stop talking about Midge. I think the only way I can let her rest in peace is to solve the Reaper case." Once the words come out of my mouth, I take a moment to catch my breath. I watch as Jughead lets his hands fall into his lap.

"You still think Salem is attached to it?"

"He came out of the Conway House, Jughead!" I exaggerate with my hands. "The place reeks of tragedy. Honestly, I'd go back there to investigate further, but I kind of want to avoid that place for now." And it's the truth. I really don't feel like wandering around the places where Salem has hidden. I don't want to go anywhere associated with Salem. Maybe my familiar has been touched by something demonic. Maybe Jughead was right by looking at all those demonology books, even if they were hexed. It could come to help, in the worst case scenario.

I huff. "I think the safest option for now would be to see Rose Blossom. If we ever find out where Rose Blossom lives." Jughead sits on the thought for a moment, then he lets out a chuckle. It throws me off guard.

"Funny you mention that…." Jughead leans forward to grab his laptop on the table. He sets it down on one leg so I can have a good view of his screen. I read the label at the top of this webpage. Sisters of Quiet Mercy…..why does that name sound familiar?

Jughead prompts the question, "Remember that Dungeons and Dragons-knock-off game I wrote about?" I blink, waiting for the memory to come back. Then it hits me. The game came from the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. I nod my head, and he continues, tapping his finger at the screen. "This is the place. It used to operate as a mental ward and orphanage up until about the 90s. Whole reason it got shut down was due to the illegal practices. You know, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest level shit. Torturing patients. Gay conversion therapy. You name it. Well, the whole joint became a nursing home in the last two decades. And THIS is where our person of interest lives currently." A wide smile appears on my face. This is amazing! We now know the location of one of the original residents of Riverdale!

I have to wonder, though. Did Jughead conduct all of this research while I was preoccupied with my cheer situation? I beg the question, "How did you find all of this?"

Jughead leans back against the couch and sighs. He readjusts the beanie on his head. "Bit of a long story, so bear with me. Part of the reason I wrote the article about Gryphons and Gargoyles was because I….um….I played the game as a kid. I was in a band with a couple of Serpents. They were all older than me, but they still let me play with them." He smiles at the memory. I sit there amazed. So….Jughead did have friends in the Serpents? The smile fades as he explains, "Well, it was all innocent at first. Role playing, unlocking challenges, stupid dares. But then, this game spread nationwide, and….kids started dying out of nowhere. Poisoning their drinks so they could "ascend" into the world of the game. Towns had to ban the game entirely, which means….my team could no longer play." It hurts to hear the pain in his voice. Now I get why he doesn't blend in well with the other kids at school, except for me and Archie. The friends he made all left. He lost the one thing that could make him feel like he belonged. I reach for his hand, platonically, of course, and squeeze it. I think of a nonverbal spell to send him my sympathies.

"It's fine, Sabrina." he chuckles off the sad notion. "I couldn't hang with them anymore anyways. They left town once they graduated and moved on with life." He frees his hand from my grip and shifts the computer back onto his lap. I still don't see the connection between this game and Rose Blossom. Like he just read my mind, Jughead shoots me a confident grin. "Turns out one of my team members….he now works as a nurse for the Sisters. I reached out to him to see if he knew of anything, and he gave me the 411 on the woman. So….." He sits up straight, turning the laptop around to face me. I'm shocked to find a page with a confirmation for a trip to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. Jughead finishes with, "he was able to book me an appointment to go see her this afternoon."

I leap up from the couch. "No way!" He nods, laughing at my utter excitement. I'm still in a daze. Jughead is going to the Sisters? To speak with THE Rose Blossom? My hands go to my hips. "WHEN were you going to inform me of this?"

He stands up with his hands out in front of him. "I was actually gonna go over to your trailer to share the news, since I still thought you weren't up to snuff. But….now that you're here, and you know….You down to tag along?"

I squeal in glee. "Are you kidding me? YES! How far is it from the trailer park?"

Jughead tightens his jaw, making his chin double. "Well, if we leave now, it will take less than an hour. It's not exactly in town, although everyone thinks it does. It makes no sense."

"Then what the heaven are we waiting for? LET'S GO!" I grab Jughead by the hand and make a run for the door. He laughs the whole way out. We race down the steps, heading towards the driveway. A few feet away, Mister Jones is returning from taking Hot Dog for a walk. I give him a cheerful wave.

He wanders over to us. "Sabrina, hi. You're starting to feel better already?"

I go to answer his question, but Jughead cuts me off. "Sure is, Dad. Hey, can we borrow the truck for a few hours?"

The older Jones's face furrows. "What do you need the truck for, boy?" Uh oh. Is this going to cause an issue? If Mister Jones finds out what we're up to, he'll tell Ali, and then….

"We wanted to go to the library. To study." I jump in to diffuse the situation. Mister Jones turns to me, the confused face softening. I go on, "I'm really behind on schoolwork, you know….with me being sick and all. And since midterms are coming out, I don't want to fall any further behind, and-"

Mister Jones lifts his hand and chuckles. "It's okay, kid. You don't need to explain yourself." I exhale the breath I didn't know I held in. Well, that's a relief. He tells me and Jughead, "I get it. School's rough. Especially with all these "advanced" classes, or whatever your generation calls them."

"AP's, Dad." Jughead teases.

Mister Jones points a finger at his son, still speaking directly to me. "That's why he and Jellybean are gonna be the first two members of the Jones Family to go to college. At least that's the direction his mother and I want him to go down." He pauses his speech to pull a pair of car keys out of his coat. He hands them over to Jughead and claps his son on the back. "Don't be gone too long, boy. Promise you two will come home before sundown."

"I promise." Jughead shrugs off his father's touch. Mister Jones gives me one last grin before he leads Hot Dog back into the trailer. My shoulders come down from my ears. I smile in relief. That turned out to be easier than we originally thought.

Jughead pats my back. "Dad's right. We should shake a leg before we get more people asking about our trip." I follow Jughead to the family's truck and climb in. He hands me his phone so I can cue up the directions to the Sisters. The GPS app claims the trip will take about 52 minutes, with some blockage on the highway. I breathe in and out, letting myself settle into it all. I place the phone onto the dash just as Jughead pulls out the trailer park. He mutters in a sing-songy voice, "Over the river and through the woods, to Nana Rose Blossom we go…."

We go through town in order to exit onto the highway. We decide to grab a bite to eat the closer we get to our final destination. Jughead turns on the radio and flips through the channels during a red light. He makes a joke about Archie's music, telling me about how one summer, Archie tried to sell a few of his songs to a radio station in town. Not one song got playtime, but he won himself a gig at the Whyte Wyrm for the night. I laugh listening to his story, yet I'm still on the idea of the Serpents' culture. What horrid things have they done to earn such a bad reputation? I knew Ali grew up with them, as did Jughead's parents, but they didn't seem all that scary. I remember what V said the night of Moose's attack. She said something about the Serpents selling those drugs, Jingle Jangle. Should I bring it up to Jughead? Would he know about-

My brain goes quiet when the roar of a car intensifies. I look up to find a rather expensive sports car zoom by in front of us. I hear Jughead scoff, "What an asshole. Who drives that fast around here?" I don't say anything, mostly because I'm caught back up in thought. I've seen that car before. I recognize the bright red color of it. I turn my head towards the direction it came from. Are we near Pembrooke? I don't get a chance to ask, because the light goes green, and we're on the move again.

We make it onto the highway, passing by a sign saying YOU ARE NOW LEAVING RIVERDALE, THE TOWN WITH PEP! "Archie and I made a pact about that sign back there." Jughead goes into a new tale. Intrigued, I shift to face him and listen. He tells me, "We made an agreement that when we graduate and leave town, we're gonna throw our initials on the backside. I already know what I want to put." He begins to exaggerate with elaborate hand gestures. "JJ W-U-Z HERE. Put a crown next to it, or over the JJ part, I'll figure it out eventually." The rest of the way up, we share stories about our childhood. He tells me about a time he almost got beat up by Reggie for calling him a "necrophiliac". I tell him about when I pranked my principal back home, Mr. Hawthorne, by using a spell to lure spiders. He hated spiders, and I felt it was most appropriate when he wouldn't let Roz organize the newest version of her book club. I remember it was one of the last good moments at home before my birthday. I remember Ambrose helping me with the spell, he always loved a good prank.

I wonder if Aunties or Ambrose know of what I experienced this past week. Has Ali reached out to them? Wouldn't they have sensed if I didn't feel well? I don't think Ali and I have heard from anyone back home since Thanksgiving. It makes me a bit nervous. The trial has to happen soon, the Church can't draw this out forever. I want to move on with life. I want it done and over with….but I don't know if I'm ready to leave my life in Riverdale behind. We pass by highway signs detailing the closest towns and the amount of miles they are away from our current place. Greendale is on that board. I fall silent at the sight of my hometown's name. I'm so close….and yet so far away. Would it be an awful idea if I convince Jughead to take a detour into town? Would I get in trouble for visiting Roz, Susie, and Harvey? For stopping by the Mortuary just to say hi?

No….it's not worth it. I miss them all, but if they really missed me in return, they would have reached out. They would have visited me. I think I can hold off on seeing their faces for just a little while longer.

We make it to our destination just short of the new hour. We have some time to spare before our appointment with Rose Blossom, so Jughead and I grab a quick pastry and coffee at a nearby cafe. It's so strange how close to Greendale the Sisters of Quiet Mercy resides. I can't believe I never heard about this place. Well, it's a place of what mortals call "holy worship", so it's reasonable Aunties wouldn't want to go near that place with a ten-foot pole. I'm actually quite nervouse about going in. Will I burn to a crisp or go through another seizure if I step one foot inside? That's not possible, I'm half-human. I'm sure I'll be fine….won't I?

I cling to my coffee cup as we wait in the lobby of this building. It looks identical to where the Church of Night holds their weekly gatherings. Granted, it's a church built to worship the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord only. Here, the crosses are upright, women wear all black and white, and those elderly spending the rest of their days here make quiet prayers to the Other Lord. I try to think of good questions for this woman. Did she ever catch a glimpse of the Reaper? How did she survive the fire at Thornhill? Would she remember anything at all?

"Relax, Teenage Witch." Jughead whispers to me, gesturing down to my knee. I didn't realize it was bouncing so badly. He teases, "I don't think these nuns and nurses will pick up on the fact that you're a witch. We're here to interview Rose Blossom, not to burn you at the stake." My nose flares at the joke. I'm surprised that with his obsession with demonology and all things supernatural, Jughead doesn't know the truth about the Salem Witch Trials.

"You realize no witches were actually burned, right?" I throw out to him in a low voice. He raises his brow at me. I roll my eyes and set my coffee down on the little side table between us. "The people they accused of witchcraft were either hung or thrown into jail. And it wasn't actual witchcraft that infected and killed those girls. The witches who lived in Salem were long gone before the trials even took off. It was a fungus in the crops that made them all sick. On top of the persecutions due to social prejudices of the time period…." That makes Jughead laugh. I'm amazed. Have I outsmarted the king of conspiracy theories? I grab my cup again and defend my stance. "What? We have our history lessons, just like you. Ours just happen to go more into detail on what mortals see as a subcategory for a horror film."

"I'm not judging." he says, "More than anything, I'm impressed. You've taught me more than what I've read in all those books from the library. And that's years of reading the entire section dedicated to it." He takes a long sip from his cup, and I do the same. I glance around the open room. Nurses go by with the elderly, some don't even look religious at all. I wonder which one grew up with Jughead. I wonder if his friends back then knew of his obsession with the supernatural….

My back straightens. Dangerous thoughts seep into my brain. If Salem doesn't calm down anytime soon, will he go after Jughead? He always labeled Jughead as a bad influence. He didn't like those books we found. The more that I stew on this, I realize that….what if I can't stop Salem on his own? Will I have to resort to….

"You okay there?" he waves a hand in front of my face. I set down my coffee and face him.

"In those books you were reading, the demonology ones, did they…..did they actually explain how you could…." I keep fumbling on my words. How can I make my point across? Especially in a place like the Sisters? He doesn't get my question, so I tell him, "I think I have some demonology books at home that I can send to you. If I wind up going back to Greendale. Just in case we need them."

"Cool." he takes my words light-heartedly. Then, the smile fades. He leans in closer. "Why would I….Sabrina, what's going on?" I'm about to explain my point, but I'm interrupted.

"Forsythe Pendleton Jones. The Third!" Jughead and I freeze with our mouths hanging. We both twist our heads towards the incoming voice. A young male nurse with long, black hair and light eyes comes over to us. He's staring directly at Jughead. Is this his friend? The male nurse smirks. "I knew I smelled something rotten." Jughead bolts up and meets this person halfway. They join in a tight embrace, both giggling like a bunch of hyenas. It's heartwarming to see Jughead so happy, not so much like a loner. He doesn't act this way around Archie, not even Kevin or Moose. He's at peace.

The nurse takes a hold of Jughead's face. "My god. When did you sprout up? You were like a Cabbage Patch Kid the last time I laid eyes on you, Jones! How've you been? How's your sister doing?"

"Ask your brother, they're in the same class." he scoffs. The nurse sees me, completely curious. Jughead wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads him over to me. "Sabrina, I'd like to introduce you to Joaquin DeSantos, Hellcaste of the Southside Serpent Double-G party." The nurse, Joaquin, extends his hand out to me.

"Sabrina, huh? Pleasure to meet you." I grin at the generosity. I take his hand, feeling my arm bounce as he shakes it. "So, you a member of the Serpents?"

I shake my head. "I'm helping Jughead with an article for school. Just out of the kindness of my own heart."

Joaquin tilts his head at Jughead. "Wait, you're running the Blue and Gold now? Good for you, brother!" He claps Jughead on the back, making him wince. Their interaction catches the attention of some of the nurses passing by. They glare at him in an unapproving fashion. Joaquin shoots me a mischievous look. "Sorry, these nuns still aren't used to an ex-gang member working in a place of worship." He steps in closer to me so he can mutter, "Still haven't broken the news yet about being a gay ex-gang member. But you didn't hear that from me." He winks, and I giggle. I think I can keep this secret.

"Hey, uh. Not to break up the happy reunion here, but.…" Jughead speaks up, "Is Rose Blossom ready to see us?"

"Right." Joaquin brings his hands together. "Got her up about a half hour ago to take her medicine. She's just finishing up breakfast. I should warn you, for the past couple of months I've looked after her, she's not all together there. She's kind of crass, but she hasn't hit Charles Foster Kane level yet, so….you're welcome." He ends his warning with a sarcastic smirk. I have to say, I rather enjoy the company of Jughead's childhood friend.

I take one last sip of my coffee cup, waiting for one of the boys to instigate the next move. "I'm ready when you two are."

Joaquin begins to walk backwards, motioning for us to follow him. "Alrighty. This way to Rose Blossom."

XXXXXXXX

ALICE

We decide to leave the car a few houses down from the abandoned Conway House. Not many people live on Fox Lane anymore, so Hiram and I can move along the street easily without causing a ruckus. We hurry down the street hand in hand, keeping our sights on the house the whole way over. I would have thought I'd feel the same dread and panic from when I stepped foot here just weeks ago. But I'm more confident in my cause. I'm ready to face what is about to come.

We arrive at the steps leading up to the house. I take a moment to catch my breath, and to also allow Hiram to steady his grip on the tool bag. I stare at the house, it's still the same as it was when I first came back to it. I hear him ask, "You ready?" I breathe in slowly, feeling my shoulders lift up into the air, then I let it all out. I squeeze his hand and look him in the eye. "Let's do this." I lead him up the steps, take him straight to the front door, which I push open with force, and I drag him through to the other side.

The spooks and thrills of the house don't bother me anymore. Really, the only thing that sticks out this time is the rancid smell of rotting mold everywhere. It's worse now compared to the first time I stepped through that door. It's so rotten that I resort to covering my mouth and nose, coughing into my hand. Hiram does the same. "Heaven, did it smell this awful before?" he comments with a brutal cough. I shrug my shoulders at him and begin to examine the scene. Okay, Howard….what did you leave behind here? Images in my head flash to what I saw the night of the pep rally. The screams coming out of Jim and Mary Ellen pierce every inch of my eardrum. My eyes go over to the staircase, to the entryway into the living room.

I point a finger towards the area. "It started in here. The wife got shot right in front of the living room when Hal came in." Hiram lets go of my hand to move over to the area. He sets down the bag, running his fingers along the floorboards.

"We'll need to pinpoint out the specific spots on these floors to see if Howard was retracing the Reaper's steps." he tells me. He curls his fingers around a particular wooden plank sticking out. Then, he makes an attempt to yank it out. I go to bark at him to be careful, but the words never come out of my mouth. He tries to pull out the plank again, but he doesn't get very far.

"Do you want some help?" I manage to say after watching him struggle. He looks up at me, at first in frustration, then with a strategy in mind.

He shakes off the notion with some embarrassment. "Nevermind that. I can take care of looking around here. Where else in the house did the Rea….." he pauses for a moment before he says, "I should just say Hal now, shouldn't I?" I stand there in the middle of the living room, the breeze finding its way to chill me under this felt dress. Even after a week, it's still uncomfortable to face the reality that Hal caused the death of the Conways. But it's a truth I need to confront, one way or another. I send Hiram a confirming nod. "Okay then," he continues, "Where did Hal strike next?"

My gaze drifts around the room, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. A nonexistent scream comes from my left. I bring my head to look over to the next murder scene. "The kitchen." I mutter, marching over to the new doorway. I call out to Hiram, "Jim Conway died next. In here." I don't think I've explored the house much the first few times around, only just the living room and quick walkthroughs of the second floor. So, seeing this part of the house will be an adventure. Or a waste of time. Let's see….

I pause at the doorway, shocked at what I see. The Conways' kitchen is…..clean. Not a lick of dirt or mold occupies this space. The refrigerator stands out, it's so shiny. A window allows light to pour in and brighten up the place, as does the door leading out to the backyard. The kitchen table looks wiped down…. Somebody's been in here recently. I can sense a vibe in this kitchen. Did I not pay attention to this room when Hiram and I conjured the spirits weeks ago? No….no, I only went and cleansed of the spirits upstairs. I never stepped foot into the kitchen. I stare down at the floor, right where Jim Conway bled out to death. There's no sign of blood anywhere. Granted, it's been cleaned up following the crime, but wouldn't there be a trace of it somewhere? Wouldn't Howard have picked up on that too?

I hustle over to the fridge, gripping onto the little metal handle and yanking it open. No signs of documents in here. I check the pantry cabinets, one by one, then getting frustrated at the tediousness of it all. I use a spell to force them all open. Still nothing. I make my way around every nook and cranny of this space. Under the table and chairs, in between the countertops and floorboards, under the sink. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

"Anything?" Hiram calls for me back out in the living room. I huff, then I march out of the kitchen. I shake my head in an absolute fury. He stands back up and places his hands on his hips. "This doesn't make sense." he sighs, "Unless Hal destroyed it all, Howard should have left something! But where we looked so far is all empty…." I see a light go into his eyes, an idea. He raises a hand to snap his fingers. "Unless we're not utilizing the right resources! We conjured spirits to give us information before…" he cues me onto his plan. Okay, this could work, and I'm trusting him.

"We can see if they can guide us to what we're looking for!" I fill in the last part, feeling my excitement grow again. I join Hiram at his side and gesture down to the bag. "You still got that heavy-ass Grimoire on you? No offense."

"None taken." He bends down to dig the book out of the bag. He plops the book straight into my hands. "Go to the chapt-"

I wave him off, already making headway to flip through this book. "I got it." I scan page by page until I find the section we need. It's another Seance ritual, but hey, if it worked the first time around, we might have just as much luck the second time. Hiram reaches for a candle in the bag and uses a nonverbal spell to light it. He leans in close to me so we can both read the spell in the text.

"Spirits below and above, spirits in between, caught in the fabric betwixt worlds, we ask that the veil be lifted and that you send forth the spirits of this house…." We sound so in sync, it kind of freaks me out a bit, but it's kind of soothing. I usually don't tend to perform ritualistic spells with other witches, not even Sabrina. I perform a lot of my spells and rituals on my own. So, having Hiram say the words with me is a step towards breaking out of my introverted shell.

When we finish chanting the spell, I shut my eyes and wait for the same helpful spirits to make their presence known. I hear Hiram grab for something else in the bag. He takes the book out of my hands, and he sets down….an 8-ball? A Christmas ornament? What the hell did he just hand me? I open my eyes to find an egg-shaped figure in my palms. I roll my eyes at him, waiting impatiently for an explanation.

He says, "That will help us go in the right direction. The spirits can use that to send us towards what we want."

I glance down at this thing, then I glare back up at him. I take it into one hand, and I start to give him some sass. "You're going to have the spirits contact us? Through an EGG? What do I look like, Hiram? Veruca Salt?"

A gust of wind sweeps through the house. That shuts me up real fast. Hiram ushers me closer to him. "Set it down. Let them speak." I don't move right away, just because I'm still staring at this Willy Wonka contraption. Hiram makes his gestures grandiose the second time around towards the egg. I give him the look of Okay, I got it, then I gently place the egg down at my feet. My knee jerks, causing the heel of my boot to pound on the floor. I'm going into this plan completely blind. I go through the outcomes in my head - what if we don't get an answer? What if we do and it's either disintegrated or hexed? What if….

I feel his hand slide into mine. A jolt of electricity runs through my arm. "Just be patient." he whispers, "Spirits are here. I can sense them. We just need to instigate the conversation." I force a wad of saliva down my throat. I make my heel stand still. I release my fingernails from their place on my palms, I didn't realize that I made a fist. A delayed sting lasts for a few seconds before fading away. My fingers flex out. My heartbeat regulates. I shut my eyes and exhale. Okay, I'm ready.

"Spirits," I begin to speak, "a terrible crime occurred within these walls, and someone tried and failed to solve it. We think something is hidden that can explain the events." My throat goes dry, my hands get clammy and shake. My eyes open back up to glare down at the egg. I really need to say something, otherwise I'm going to lose whatever spirits we conjured. I extend my foot out to tap the egg. "We've laid out this…..um, egg-thing here on the floor, so….so you could…."

"We ask for you to guide us towards the direction of what we seek with this….egg." Hiram fills in the gaps, giving me a sympathetic wink. I'm a bit relieved that he calls it an egg too, so I wind up loosening up and smiling in return. My eyes go back down to the egg, I study the golden exterior, the multitude of colors woven in between. It glimmers in what little light comes into the living room. A bird chirps outside the house. A particle of floating dust catches my attention, causing me to look upward. I quietly huff, in hope that I don't disturb the spirits from whatever they need to do. I find my sights wandering back over to the kitchen. Did whoever release Hal return to the house and clean it up? Did they realize his true nature, the same way I did? Is this all in attempt to lure Hal back in and-

A ripple of energy hits me. The egg smacks into the toes of my boots. I have to suppress a yelp as I jump back, dragging Hiram with me. The egg continues to roll in my direction. Wait….why would it…. Hiram takes my arm and pulls me off to the side. I don't get what's happening until I see the egg roll out of the living room, making a curved turn towards the doorway. Then, it makes a sharp turn facing the staircase. It rolls at a fast pace and slams into the bottom of the staircase, stopping it. The thud echoes throughout the empty house. We wait a couple of seconds for a sign. The egg rolls into the staircase again, this time not producing as loud of a thump. It goes back again, and again, and again.

"What does that mean?" I breathe out, looking to Hiram for clarity. He tilts his head at the object.

"Under the staircase?" he tries to make sense of the egg hitting the staircase. I concentrate on the lower step, looking for a presence. Nothing. Now I'm getting frustrated again. Why would the egg be going to the staircase if it-

Wait. It's not wanting us to look at the staircase. It wants us to…. I grip Hiram's hand tighter. My eyes widen at him. It freaks him out a bit, so I let him in on my epiphany, "Upstairs." It takes a few seconds to grasp the concept. Eventually, he grins at me once he catches on. Not wanting to waste anymore time, we run over to the staircase. He grabs for the egg as we fly up the staircase. We get about halfway up the second set when Hiram stops us. "Hang on." he tells me, handing me the egg. "Place this on the top step. The spirits can direct us to where Howard hid everything." I nod my head and follow his instructions. I move back down the steps and wait for our friends on the other side to shuffle the egg again. It stays still, not even a gust of breeze can move it. I'm worried that our movements have scared the spirits off. No, they're not gone. I can still sense them, but why are they not doing anything?

"Come on, spirits." I quietly chant. "Please. We need you."

The egg gets rolling again, I perk up. It rolls down the hallway, then it stops in front of an open room. It backs up a bit, my brows raise at the unusual movement. The egg picks up speed as it curves and disappears into the….. Hang on. That's the children's bedroom. That's the last room I visited when I smudged the upstairs.

"What room is that?" Hiram asks me. I don't give him direct eye contact. I stay staring in the path of the egg.

"Kids room. Hal killed them…." I stop speaking. It hits me that the kids weren't even downstairs when their parents died. They were hiding, but they must have heard everything. That's why they screamed. And Hal wouldn't have wanted any of them to survive and tell the tale. So, "He killed the kids last."

I run all the way up the rest of the stairs. "Alice, wait!" Hiram follows behind me into the kids' bedroom. I glance around at this graveyard of a room. No wonder Howard used it to hide his research. No one would want to parooze around a children's bedroom where murders took place. It's the perfect place to hide a secret. But where could his stuff have gone in this room? And where did the egg go?

Hiram leaves my side to check the area by the beds. I go to the closest space. Without touching a knob, I use magic to force the folding doors open, half preparing for any spooks that Hal may have left. Lucky for me, there's no thrills, but unfortunately, no egg. A thumping noise emerges from the other side of the room. Hiram and I turn our heads towards the source of the noise. My mouth drops at what I see. The egg is slamming into the kids' toy box.

The corners of my mouth lift. I stare in wonder at this box. I can't believe I overlooked this damn thing before. And it would make sense. Who would have the balls to dig through a box of outdated, creepy childrens' toys? Well, Howard did. And the spirits have guided us to our missing puzzle piece.

"Here! Help me with this!" I go to the toy box and grab the egg, placing it back under Hiram's care. I grab for one side of the box, using my strength to push it out. Okay, this is heavier than what I thought. After watching me struggle for a bit, Hiram takes the other side and mimics my motions. Even with both of us going at it, the box remains in its place. I grunt in frustration. Right, I forgot it was practically bolted or glued to the floor.

But I have witchcraft. And so does Hiram. I stand back up right and take a few steps backwards. Hiram looks up at me, "What are you doing?"

"Just trust me, will you?" I reply without wanting to flip my lid at him. I lift my hands, redirecting my energy at the box. I shut my eyes and let my magic do the work.

There's an unsettling noise that comes from the wood of the box inching across the floorboards. The image in my head is difficult to grasp the mass volume of, but I'm making some progress. I reel my hands slowly towards my chest, egging the box to come my way. It's like I'm playing tug of war, and the other side is winning. I can barely get this thing moving. Has my magic really weakened over my time here in Riverdale?

The heaviness of the box decreases, I can feel the weight lifting off of my magic. The box glides towards me at a faster pace. I open my eyes, how is this…. I finally pick up on Hiram standing next to me, summoning the box with just as much force. The box comes to a halt just feet away from where I'm standing. Hiram lowers his hands and his smile radiates. My eyes mist up. A soft grin forms on my face. "Thanks." I mutter, to which he nods in return.

I eye a small lock on the lid of the box. With just a flick of my hand, I send a wave of magic to force the lock open. It snaps alive, then it falls to the floor with a clank. At the same time, Hiram and I meander over to the box, hesitant to open its contents. I place one hand on one corner of the lid, Hiram goes for the other side. We look at one another, cueing a silent countdown. 3….2….1…. We yank the lid up, a sea of dust and mildewy air greet us. I have to cover my mouth to not allow any of it in my system. Hiram coughs before he stares down. He stops coughing all together. What is he seeing in this thing? My curiosity hits a peak, I glance down….

My smile grows. A newfound feeling of happiness overtakes me. Sitting on top of a pile of untouched and molding toys is a stack of papers. Manila folders dated from the 90s, ones that no one has dared to find in 25 years. Everything we need to finish what the former Sheriff Howard started.

"Howard, you son of a bitch." Hiram chuckles in glee.

I lower down to get a better look at all of this. "It's all here. He left everything here." I'm over the moon. I can't describe the excitement I'm feeling in this moment. I reach for one manila folder stuffed with papers and cradle it like I'm holding a baby. "We should bring all of this down to the kitchen. There's a big enough table to stack this research on." I start moving away from Hiram and the box, meandering closer to the door. "But we should start glancing this stuff over. That way we can take notes and bring summary notes to FP and Gladys. And JB too!"

"Then why should we wait to tell the Joneses when we can just bring it to them?" I stop in my path, and I twist on my heels to face him. My jaw goes to the floor. Did Hiram just suggest that we….that we steal this paperwork?

Hiram stands up with two giant folders of papers in each arm. He notices my facial expression and rolls his eyes at me. "Look, borrowing the Book of the Beast was one thing. This," he gestures down to Howard's research, "on the other hand, I don't think anyone would have a clue where this came from. And no one would bother to look for it either. So…." he lets out a huff and smirks. "I think we're safe to hold onto these without people asking questions."

I take baby steps back over to him, my jaw rejoining the rest of my mouth. I can hear the heels of my boots clank on the floorboards. He looks so calm, yet so confident in his actions. Maybe I am starting to wear off on him. I grin up at him with my lips partially together. "My, aren't you turning into a rebel with a cause?"

He loses the smirk and forms a sheepish smile. His cheeks flush with pink. "What? I'm beginning to like this…..rebelling thing. It's fun." He sounds so childlike, I can't help but giggle. He steps in closer to me, his face inches away from mine. His voice lowers, "I'm glad you roped me into this hunt, Alice. I needed to return to my teenage roots. I needed to remind myself of who I was. What I want in life."

There's a story waiting to be read in his eyes. It's one that no one else knows, not even Veronica or Hermione. It's one I have to open and not judge by its cover. I bring my feet together, bringing me just an inch away from him. My eyes go to the folders in his arms. His breath greets my face.

"And….what do you want in life, Mister Lodge?" I look back up at him, and my mouth closes. He's studying me. He's waiting for me to make my next move, to say the next thing. I half wonder what could occur if he didn't have the folders in his hands. If he would close the gap between us or run far away from me. I'm scared to admit that I prefer the first option. What is it about him that's leaving me so flustered lately? Am I now realizing that Hiram was never the problem in high school? That he was dealing with as many secrets as I was? That….that maybe when he invited me to that fated Halloween party, it was more than just for party favors?

I start to wonder what if it would be a bad thing if….if we….

He shrugs his arms upwards to readjust his hold on the folders. "I think, for right now," he tells me with a playful expression on his face, "I want to get everything Howard touched downstairs before my arms go numb." My neutral face breaks as I burst into laughter.

"C'mon, you big baby." I gesture towards the door with my head, and I lead us out of the children's bedroom. I think we can easily get what we found downstairs in two or three trips. We'll have to bring the car closer to the house, but we could take a good amount of this paperwork and shove it into Hiram's toolbag. I can worry about the logistics of this once we get to the kitchen. Right now, I'm just excited that we placed another piece into our half-completed puzzle.

I almost tumble down the last step from not paying attention. I brace myself against the wall as some contents of my folder fly out. I bless out loud. Hiram sets one stack of papers down on the staircase and helps me off the wall. My head gets dizzy all of the sudden. My senses pick up on something…. Is there someone in the house with us? Have the spirits not left? Well, whatever it is, I need to get my act together. I wave Hiram away, "I'm fine. Just got a little clumsy, that's all."

He sits me down on the staircase. "I'll grab the car. You want me to find you some water?"

"No. I'm good. I'll make sure no creeps come in here and steal all this." I keep my tone optimistic to hide my sudden, over compelling sense of….offness. Hiram lets go of my shoulder, muttering an Okay, then he picks up his tool bag from the floor and walks out of the house, leaving the door wide open.

The breeze outside has picked up. It makes the floorboards sing, it makes some of the folders and spare papers dance, including what fell out of my stack. I better get what I dropped picked up before it blows away. It's not that much so I'm able to catch my portion of Howard's paperwork before I lose it to the wind. I do my best to assemble the loose articles back into the folder. Medical paperwork filled out by coroners when the bodies were taken in back in '67. Bank statements belonging to the Conways. A photo of Jim and Mary Ellen, along with their kids…..

There's three kids in that photo. I thought there were only two, one boy, one girl. I only saw two in my visions. I set the folder down next to me and bring this photo closer to my face. This kid definitely has the Conway look to him - blue eyes like Jim, dark blonde hair and a nose like Mary Ellen. And yet, at the same time, he doesn't share features with the two kids I saw. A cousin maybe? Family friend? The kids'…..brother?

I flip the photo to the back side, finding some words written in neat cursive. The caption said this was taken on Pickens' Day that January. The names are there too. Jim, Mary Ellen, Tommy, Sue….Joseph.

Joseph. I bring my hands down to my lap, still clutching onto the photo. I try to process it all. There was a third kid. His name was Joseph. He wasn't there that night. I didn't see him through Hal. Was this the element of Howard's insanity? Did Hal forget Joseph in his massacre? Is Joseph even a Conway at all? But he looks like the parents. He's in that photo with the Conways. Then….then what happened to Joseph? Where did he go? Is he…..is he still alive?

There's a bang in the kitchen. I bolt up from my place. Something's…..somebody's in here. I turn to the front door. It's still open from when Hiram walked out. My heartbeat goes twice its speed. I don't have any of Hiram's tools on me, so I have to resort to my magic if I need to defend myself. I move slowly towards the kitchen, waiting for whatever's in that room to show itself. "Hiram?" I call out, curling my fingers into fists. "The front door's still open. Did someone see you?" I'm greeted with silence. No….heavy breathing. I try to read this new vibe. Does it have an aura? It does, but it doesn't belong to Hiram. Oh shit.

"Hello?" The breathing intensifies. My pace picks up. Who is in this house with me? "HELLO?" The breathing stops. The house goes dead silent. I storm into the kitchen and freeze.

A figure wearing all black hovers by the refrigerator, with their back facing me. The intruder shakes in their place, the heavy breathing starting up again. Did Hal send another doppelganger? The figure turns around slowly, worried that I may come into the kitchen and attack them. I won't, but I would certainly like to know who they are and why they're in here. Besides….they don't look like someone who can put up a fight. The intruder doesn't fully face me, but what I do catch a glimpse of is a corner of a mouth. The tip of a nose. A blue eye. I go to say something, to start firing questions, but the intruder makes a run for the backdoor. "HEY!" I scream, and I follow the intruder out of the Conway House.

I shove the door wide open and glance around the backyard. From the dividing line between the neighborhood and Fox Forest, the figure in black fights their way through the trees. It's not so crowded, so I can see the figure getting farther and farther away. "STOP!" I yell and run down the back porch steps. I'm so caught up in chasing after this intruder that I practically bodyslam straight into Hiram.

"Woah!" he catches me to keep me from falling down. I struggle to catch my breath. My eyes focus on the woods. "Are you okay? I heard yelling from the entryway. What happened?" The figure is slowing down their pace, but they're getting away.

I point my finger towards that direction. "There was…..someone was in that house."

Hiram's eyes flare up. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." I gulp down a wad of saliva. "But….." I can't finish my thought, I'm getting dizzy again. I wait for my head to clear before I free myself from Hiram's grip. The intruder hasn't made much progress in their escape, so I can still grab them. I sprint off to the woods. Hiram calls out for me, but I don't respond. I need to stop this person. I need to know why they were in that house.

I crush tree branches. I leave footprints in the snow. I don't feel like I'm running, it's like I'm flying. I'm feeling a burn in my calves from running so fast, but I can't stop now. To my advantage, the escaping intruder is slowing down their speed. "STOP! PLEASE!" I guess I'm not loud enough, because the figure isn't taking me seriously. They just keep running.

I let my magic fly out of my fingertips. I thrust my hands out. The intruder's feet go up in the air. They fall into the snow face first. A cry of pain pierces the silence in these woods. I stop at the sound of the cries. I hate having to reproduce my magic in such a harsh way. I would never want to intentionally harm another person with it. But should I assume this person is….. These cries don't sound demonic. It could be a trick to throw Hiram and I off, but I can sense an aura. I really think this could be a human we're dealing with, and not a creation belonging to Hal.

Hiram catches up to me and stops just a footstep ahead of me. I hold my arm out in front of him to keep him from going further. I can't guarantee what will happen in the next few seconds, I have to act smart here. I bring my arm down back to my side. Okay, here goes nothing. I wave for Hiram to follow me as I cautiously hurry over to our intruder. The sobs grow louder the closer we get. And the more I listen to this person wailing in pain, the more I realize….this person is not some youngling.

I watch Hiram step out ahead and grab a hold of this person. He drags the body over to a nearby tree. I'm tempted to nag him and tell him to be careful, but he rests the person against the tree gently. I sigh in relief. The cries persist….this time around, they're accompanied by a voice.

"No….please….don't…."

"Alright, Keller." Hiram ignores the intruder's pleading. "Cut the crap. We know it's you." I remain silent, mostly because I'm still listening to the stranger. I get Hiram's concern, Tom's been on our tail for unknown reasons, and if he ever found out about us, we'd be screwed. But this person….the woeful voice…. Tom Keller would never put himself in that vulnerable of a position.

"Wait." I keep Hiram at bay for just a second. The stranger's head is bent to the ground, the hood preventing me from getting a good look at their face. My fingers crinkle….I still have the photograph of the Conways in my hand. It's all crumbled now, but the photo still has some quality to it. The unknown boy still stands out.

This stranger had to have gone in the house for a reason.

I crouch down and peel back the hood on…..a man. He's aged, probably in his mid to late 50s, but an innocent man. No sign of demonic activity. The man looks up at me. His dark blonde hair glimmers in the snow. His blue eyes have tears in them. I notice a slight swelling in his ankle, now turning purple. The man sniffles. "Ar…." he stutters on his words, "Are….are you going to hurt me?" He sounds so broken, and I regret making him a victim of my magic.

"No." I tell him. "I….." I can't say much further, I'm so entranced by this man's face. Why does it…. I glare down at the photo in my hand. I find myself going back and forth between the man in front of me and the boy in the picture.

"I didn't mean to scare you." the man sobs. "I only wanted to…..I just wanted…."

"Wanted what?" Hiram snaps. I'm worried that he may be scaring off this man, but it doesn't stop this stranger from explaining his view of things.

"Why were you in my house?"

My hand goes stiff, my fingers pinching the photo tightly. The words echo in my head. Why were you in my house? My mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air out of water. My head glances over my shoulder back at Hiram. He shares an equal look of bewilderment. All of the Conways were dead according to the news. Not one person is left on Fox Lane to provide their insight. And now I'm only hearing news about this boy….Joseph….

I turn back to the man. "Who are you? What's your name?" The man coughs and wipes snot away with the sleeve of his jacket. He looks me in the eye.

"Joseph. I'm…..I'm Joseph Conway."

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