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.

8. Last of the Pussycats

TONI

I didn't expect town hall to be freezing cold. Even under my jacket and with a warm cup of coffee in my hands, I'm shivering like no one's business. I glance past people as they come through the main lobby. They look so put-together, so professional. They have their lives together. And here I am in a jean jacket and leggings, here to pitch a fight with the Mayor. Or to collaborate on more initiatives for the Uktena and the rest of the Southside. Depends on how this meeting goes.

I'm just thrilled that Nancy invited me in the first place. She very well could have come to this place on her own, but she chose to bring me with her. Me! I have to contain my excitement so I don't scare off the people rushing to get to work in this building. So, I decide to glance over at Nancy, pinning her elbows onto her bouncing knees.

Looking at her next to me, I feel a lightness in my heart. I don't really know what makes me panic about her, but something about her presence soothes me. I don't think I've felt this way about anyone since….ever. Yeah, I've had crushes on people I attended school with, but I never acted on them. I haven't gone through anything like this. It's new. It's exciting. Even sharing breakfast with at Pop's felt….

Am I jumping too quickly into this? I want to find out, to read Nancy's mind and to see what she thinks of me. But when her head turns my head, I can't make myself meet her gaze. So, I just wind up staring at my kneecaps. Way to go, Toni, my brain rattles off. If you can't even make yourself talk to this girl, how the hell do you expect to become a representative for the Uktena.

"She's not that terrifying, by the way." Nancy strikes up conversation between us. That causes me to take my eyes off my knees and to actually look up at her. She gestures out to the lobby, "Trust me, I've met with ruder, and nastier politicians and representatives. McCoy's tame compared to them."

I chuckle at the last part. That's a relief to hear. I guess it does make sense - some of the people that walked passed us did give Nancy some odd looks, like they're annoyed that she's in here. Again.

Which almost makes me wonder, how did Nancy become so heavily involved in fighting for better Southside representation in the first place? I know she said she planned the demonstrations following the death of that football player. But the more that I'm coming to get to know Nancy, I think her involvement goes beyond just these protests.

So, I pop the question. "How did you get started in this stuff anyway?" My tongue glues itself to the root of my mouth. I sound stupid even asking, but the question's already out. Nancy stares at me in amazement, but in a caring way. I have to peel my tongue back down before I can follow up with, "You keep bringing up your group at the Pretty Poisons, and all your efforts. I just didn't know what led you to…." My throat goes dry, I can't say more. I let my lips come together and slide back further into my seat.

To my side, Nancy grins. The little gestures warms me, putting me more at ease. Then, she explains her backstory to me. "I became interested in advocacy right as I left Riverdale for college. I recognized how badly I, along with the other Serpent girls, were treated in the Serpents. It turned into a passion project for me - I figured I could get a law degree, come back to the Southside, and….be the new Snake Charmer, I guess."

Snake Charmer…. The words leave a funny touch in my brain. I do my best to not raise my brows at her, not to be mean, but only out of concern. In the Serpents, being the Snake Charmer means you wrestle with local law enforcement to get members out of prison, reducing sentences, and making shady deals with the other gangs in town. And unfortunately, being the Snake Charmer also means you sometimes have to….do things you don't like on behalf of the Serpents. It's degrading work, but with how little employment opportunities arise for women like Nancy, like me….I get why she saw it as a stepping stone for advocacy work.

Nancy goes on, "But law school didn't end up working out, so I came back home….only to have my family kick me out. When I told them what I still was interested in pursuing, they said I was making a grave mistake. I was wasting my life, throwing myself into a dangerous path." She pauses for a few seconds, her knees bouncing more now. Her fingernails grip onto her kneecaps. She bites the inside of her cheek. "Don't get me wrong, I love my family to death, and I always value their care for me. But I knew something had to change around here. Even if it was small things. So, when I picked up a part-time job at Pretty Poisons….. They didn't cut me off, but we certainly didn't speak for a long time."

Pieces of my heart crumble and fly down into my stomach. How could Nancy's family do that to her? What sucks most is how eerily it reminds me of….how exactly it reminds me of what happened with my uncle. And Granddad.

Before I can ask about her family, Nancy gets to the crucial details. "Yeah, so I started at Pretty Poisons, and….one day, this girl who had just joined the Serpents comes in. She didn't know how to go about getting her tattoo, or where…..she was petrified. She didn't have anyone to go to. She broke down crying when I started to go over the design details with her. I didn't know what else to do, so….I calmed her down and shared my own struggles with her. I had to be the one to reassure her that she wasn't alone, that she didn't have to hide her struggles. I had her come back the next with a parental guardian, and we got the tattoo on her in a place she felt comfortable with.

"Next thing I know, I have more Serpent girls coming to me to get their tattoos. Even the younger guy members too. And that eventually spread over to the Ghoulies. I was hesitant at first, but….they're actually not the bad people we made them out to be. That was kind of the moment I realized I….that I couldn't just make advocating for better treatment of Serpent girls my own battle. This issue went beyond me. It went beyond the Serpents as a whole. That's why I decided to form the group, to have us all come together and find common ground - what our struggles were, what we needed to get by in life." Nancy stops there, curling her lips upward.

I'm amazed, really. I never knew this work had been occurring underneath the surface. And she did this primarily on her own? I would say it's impressive, but it's not right to say out loud. Women like Nancy, like me, always get expected to take the weight of the world on our shoulders, to act selfless. People don't always seem to realize how tiring it is after a while. No one bothers to remove the weight or to see how we're doing. Not even our own families….

The thought still comes to my brain like an itch needing to be scratched. The words leave my mouth before I can stop myself. "Are….are you still close with your family? I mean….do they know what you've done?" My lips become glued together again. Now I really want to run back to the Southside and retreat to my shop.

To my surprise, I notice her expression lighten a bit. "Oh, no! We're all fine now, we're at least on civil terms! And they know about my work. But….my relationship with them certainly hasn't been the same since we had that talk." I sigh in relief. I take my eyes off her and stare out to the wall in front of us. That's at least good news. Although, it doesn't guarantee her family will ever be healed. I wonder how Granddad would react if he met Nancy.

Out of the corner of my eye, she smirks. "And I thought they were going to send me away forever when I told them I was into girls."

The last part lights a fire in me. My lips come apart. My eyes widen. I could grin from ear to ear. But I have to keep my new excitement to myself, just for now.

It doesn't last long, though. My good mood fades as Nancy frowns. "I just wish they could really see the good I'm doing. To show them that I didn't waste my life on behaving selfishly. But, beggars can't be choosers, can they?" She sends a mournful grin my way before she slumps back into her seat. I don't like seeing her this defeated. Even though we just met yesterday, her sorrow wounds me.

Someone has to recognize how much Nancy has dedicated everything to her work. Someone needs to reassure her that pursuing her passions, her love for her community, isn't selfish. In fact, she has every right to act on her own interests, to prioritize her needs over the rest. She needs to know that, the way I've come to realize that for myself.

I set my cup down to the ground and turn to face Nancy. "For the record," I tell her, "I don't think what you're doing is a waste." She glances over at me, half dazed, half looking for more details. I wasn't expecting this conversation, so I force myself to breathe and think through what to say next. Then, I continue, "You're advocating for change, Nancy. You want a better for the younger generations, so they will never endure what we did. How is that wasting your life? I can see why it's dangerous, but a waste….No. I'm sorry, Nancy, but your parents are dead wrong. You're not making a mistake. And you're not acting selfish."

For some reason, my eyes go down to her fingers. Some of the green color sitting on her nails is starting to chip away. The cuticles are beginning to peak out from underneath. A couple fingers twitch from the cold. Without much further thought, I reach for those fingers with my own. She looks down in pure shock, then she brings her eyes to meet mine.

I hear my voice get lighter, "You're paving a way for the future. Do you understand, Nancy? You….you're sensational."

A misty glow appears in her eyes. Fearing that I overstepped my boundaries, I glance away. Instead, I feel the tips of her fingers squeeze onto my fingers. Her thumb dances along my pinkie. I look back over at her, just in time to catch her smile.

"You're sensational, too, Toni Topaz. And you're paving just as much of a future for the Uktena." All this anxiety I built up fades to dust. Relief greets me like a warm blanket, like an old friend. My mood continues to lighten the more I see our hands still clinging together. I internally thank the spirits for getting me here in the first place.

I'm caught up in the midst of our little moment that I almost miss what Nancy says. "Speaking of the Uktena….I got a little curious last night." My body goes cold. My grip on her hand tightens. Sweat appears on my hairline. Nancy chews on her lip before going further, "I know you said the Uktena were the original Serpents, but….but I don't really know what else they do. Like how they came to Riverdale in the first place. I tried looking it up on the internet last night…." She goes on, but I can't bring myself to listen. Her words fall deaf to my ears underneath my heart pounding. What is Nancy wanting to probe at? Did mentioning my Uktena roots place myself into danger? Maybe it was a mistake coming here. Maybe Granddad had every right to depart from Riverdale. What would he think of me if he saw me openly discussing the Uktena with a girl I just met? What would my uncle….

No. Screw what they think. They no longer have a say in what goes on with me and the rest of the Serpents. They left, and I'm still here. The fate of the Uktena is in MY hands. So, I think I should have a little leeway in how I brush up the town's knowledge of my native roots. Of my family's coven….

My heart stops beating, instead freezing up at my realization. She doesn't know it's a coven. She doesn't know I'm a witch. No one I have interacted with over the years does. If I tell Nancy of this, what will SHE think of me? Will she view me as a freak? A monster? A threat to Riverdale?

A warm thumb glides across my icy fingers. "Hey….you don't have to talk about this with me if you're not comfortable." I bring myself to look at Nancy again, noticing how guilty she now appears. How sensitive she thinks I am. I pretend I didn't just experience a brief little panic attack.

"What? No….I don't mind discussing the Uktena with you." I pause, contemplating how to explain the secretive nature of the coven. How would Granddad handle the situation if he were in my shoes? Then, I mentally laugh. Granddad is not me, and I am growing into my own person, not just a new version of my grandfather. "The Uktena prefer to lay low, not have an electronic history published. We prefer to spread information through word of mouth, tales that…." I reword the sentence in my head, hoping I don't actually say, That mortals and non-witches will understand and not persecute us for. Instead, I say, "Tales anyone can relate to, and appreciate."

"Like the tale you gave everyone yesterday." she smiles. I do too, giving her a nod. I still can't help but wonder why she's asking me in the first place. Eventually, Nancy tilts her head at me. "I guess….the reason I'm asking is because I want to at least have some idea of how to….how to help pitch your cause to our team. To the Mayor." I stare at her, silent to the bone. Should I be rejoicing at this gesture of kindness? Or revolted that she could be interfering? No….Nancy's not that kind of person. She's generous, she is allowing me to join in on her meeting. ME! A stranger she just met! But why? What makes me special?

I relax my face a bit, the coldness of my fingers faws out. I ask, "You think I have a shot with this? You really believe Mayor McCoy will invest in us? In me?"

Her lips curl upward. Her eyes soften. I can hear the inner voice telling me, Yes. Before she can say it, something else catches her attention. Without looking back at me, Nancy gives my hand one last squeeze, rising up from the bench. "Looks like we're about to find out."

Soon, what caught Nancy's attention also catches mine. A pair of heels click on the marble floors, descending from the staircase. Sierra McCoy, in the flesh, approaches us, her eyes filled with determination. She addresses Nancy without noticing me at her side. "Miss Woods, we're going to have to make this meeting quick. I still have my dance card for the day filled to the brim."

"Fine with me, Madame Mayor." Nancy responds with a composed yet unwavering stance. I applaud her courage, it's inspiring. The Mayor goes to correct Nancy, I guess to say to go ahead and call her just Missus McCoy, until she meets my gaze. The determined eyes transform into ones of curiousness. Of suspicion. She raises her brow at me, about ready to taunt Nancy with, And who the hell is this?

Nancy picks up on the Mayor's weariness of me. I only remember we're still holding hands when she looks down at them. She looks back up at the Mayor, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh! This is Toni Topaz. She's the newest member of my team. I thought by bringing her along, she and you could…." For whatever reason, she pauses. She glances back over at me, a smirk forming. "You know what? I think I should let her speak for herself."

She leads me closer to the Mayor, giving me a reassuring look of It's okay, she won't bite. I end up letting go of Nancy's hand in transit. My hands come back together when I stand in front of the older woman. I have to contain myself so I don't rock on my heels. She's still the Mayor - I don't want to embarrass myself, or Nancy for that matter. Well, maybe I already have, because the first thing I do is give the Mayor an awkward wave. She doesn't seem impressed. Okay, I need to explain my reasons for being here with Nancy, quick. I hope the spirits will come through and guide me on this one.

Well, I don't have much time left to wait for spirits, or for any of Granddad's advice from the grave. So, I say what comes to my mind first. "Like Nancy said, I'm new. To her team. I only joined yesterday." The Mayor still looks unimpressed. Shit. What else could I say that will give this woman a good view of me? Is it worth mentioning…. I could pull through with Nancy. I did it at my speech yesterday. I don't think Granddad or my uncle will come bursting through the doors of town hall to keep me quiet. Well, if I need the Mayor on my side, it's worth the shot.

"I'm a representative for the Uktena." I tell Sierra McCoy. "As in….I'm an ancestor of the original Serpents in Riverdale."

The neutral, unimpressed expression fades. The Mayor now studies me in….curiosity? Bewilderment? What does this woman think of me now? I look behind my shoulder over at Nancy. She lifts her hands up along with her shoulders, indicating that she doesn't get it either. I sigh, turning back to the Mayor. Nancy asks, "You don't….you don't mind if she's sitting in on this meeting with us, do you?" The Mayor remains quiet. Nancy and I don't hear a word come out for what feels like an hour, but it's only been a few seconds.

Finally, the woman lifts her chin up to me. The fire in her eyes returns. "It's probably best that Miss Topaz does." My heart comes back to life. I look at Nancy, and she's glowing in excitement. She races over to my side, about ready to ramble out Thank you's to the Mayor, but the older woman does not stay to hear it. Sierra McCoy makes her way back over to the staircase, waving for us to follow her. "I don't have much time, ladies, so you better keep up."

I'm in a whirlwind. I feel light and airy, even when Nancy takes my hand and has us flying up the stairs. Mayor McCoy didn't turn me away! I can join in on the meeting with Nancy! If only Granddad could see me now! I become lost in awe of the building as we make our way up to the second floor, then the third. Paintings of all shapes and sizes decorate the halls, depicting various elements of Riverdale history. A few showcase the beauties of Sweetwater River and Fox Forest. Others include portraits of the town's founders. Normally, looking at Pickens and Blossom would make my stomach churn, but today, I hold no begrudging feelings for the men.

One artwork catches my eye in the middle of the hallway. Actually, the piece speaks out to me, similar to how the spirits do. Trapped under the painting's spell, I pause in our route to get a better look at it. What about this piece demands my attention? I scan the piece, looking for any clues. Nothing. It makes no sense, it's just a landscape of Pickens Park before-

My heart plummets to my feet. Now I get why this painting manifests such unusual vibes. It's Pickens Park in that time before General Pickens and Barnabas Blossom turned my ancestors into animals in a slaughterhouse. The closer I look, the more specific details come to light. It's the area of Pickens Park with that tree hovering above where I performed the seance with the Joneses and Alice. Where Rose Blossom and Louis Cooper buried that man and called him the Reaper. Memories seep into my conscious, polluting my sense of thinking. Louis Cooper whispers into my ear, sounding like a blood curdling scream. The whispers lead me to find one section of the painting, behind the tree. My breathing hardens. My eyes are glued, unable to look away.

A pair of ice blue colored dots, in the center of a dark colored shape, looms just inches from the tree.

"There's better pieces down on the other floors." Nancy tugs at my arm, freeing me from the discovery. I make an effort to pay attention when Nancy says, "I'll show you when we're done with the meeting." I do my best to follow her pace, to prepare myself for this meeting with Sierra McCoy. But before I can make myself enter the woman's office, I look back at the painting, at the one spot by the tree. It's as if those blue dots are like eyes, watching my every move.

I peel away from the sight, and I step inside this new space Sierra McCoy will give up soon. It's dark in here, which I didn't expect. Despite the open blinds, the sunlight outside is still too weak to lighten up the room. I get caught up looking around the space I almost trip over a box. Well, boxes, plural. The Mayor has half-filled boxes lying about her office. The only free space is a walkway for her to get to her desk. Sierra McCoy takes one box closest to me and transports it closer to the wall. "Ignore the mess, ladies. I'll need to have my daughter come help me pack this stuff away later, only when she's done with her rehearsals."

Daughter? I glance down at her desk, finding any evidence of a daughter on top of what isn't covered with documents. Finally, I spy a golden frame at the edge, holding a picture of a young girl. With features almost identical to the Mayor's.

"Have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable." Sierra McCoy gestures for us to sit down as she comes to her side of the desk. I find two chairs in front of Nancy and me. I wait for Nancy to take her place before I can do the same. I figure I can let Nancy do the initial talking while I examine more of this office. The bookshelves have been emptied out for the most part, the contents now stored neatly in the boxes on the floor. A faint whisper creeps into my eardrums in the midst of my studying. My shoulders tense up. What does this little voice want? For me to go back to the painting and trap myself in its horrors? No….no, it wants me to keep looking at the Mayor's bookshelves. It found something in here, something it wants me to find too. But what? As if I'm being guided by an invisible hand, my head turns to one section. One book remains on this level, its gold lettering on the binder glimmering in the little sunlight pouring into this room.

"So what I've gathered from your email, Miss Woods," Sierra McCoy strikes up the conversation, pulling me away from the bookshelf. I do my best to play the role of observer between Nancy and the Mayor, waiting to make my piece when they're done. The older woman inquires, "you want to have a speaker for your cause at the Jubilee?"

"We figured it'd be the best approach to get word out to the public. We know the demonstrations aren't….boding well, despite our good intentions."

"I'm not accusing you and your team of anything bad, Miss Woods. But while I still sit in this office, I have to keep the town's best interests in mind. Including the Southside."

"How would speaking at the Jubilee not be part of the best interests? I can craft out a good speech! One that will only focus on the good. We won't mention anything negative about either side of town!"

"You're going to have to convince more than just me of that." the older woman laments. I look over at Nancy, her face falls. Does she think the Mayor is doubting her? I wouldn't like to think so, I kind of understand where the Mayor stands on this matter. But Sierra will have to relay that view to her.

Sierra leans back in her seat, crossing her legs. She keeps her eyes on Nancy. "I know you mean well with your cause. You think I don't listen to your speeches when clips of them come up on RIVW? On social media? I'm not deaf, Miss Woods. I know very damn well what you're fighting for. But as Mayor, I also have to listen to what the rest of town fights for, whether I agree with what they say or not. I can't let my own opinions guide my actions in representing this town….despite how much I want to march by your side. Frankly, between the three of us….if I wasn't caught up dealing with my resignation, I would be out with your friends at one of your demonstrations."

"Then why are you stepping down?" Nancy raises her voice. She leans forward, "We need more people like you, Miss McCoy. You get exactly what we say! What if the next person who takes your role won't see us? What if…." Her voice dies out. She shuts her eyes, her lips press together in a tight line. I should do something, reach for her hand, jump into the conversation. Why am I acting so frigid here?

Sierra addresses Nancy in a calm tone, "I will make sure whoever takes my place is aware of your cause. I can't guarantee the safety and treatment of the Southside, but I can at least have you two meet and….discuss new terms." It's a half promise, that much I can tell, but it does provide some reassurance. Nancy opens back up her eyes. She nods slowly at the older woman, just as Sierra turns to me.

"Perhaps you can meet with my replacement too. Assuming you're still representing…."

I let my mouth hang a bit, unsure of how to respond. I glance back and forth between the Mayor and Nancy. What do I tell her? Also….how come she won't finish her sentence? Whatever the reason, I need to say something back. I shift in my seat, facing the Mayor head on.

"That's my intention, yes. I still plan to represent the Uktena in full force come your exit. Might as well start preparing now, right?" I send a quick grin in Nancy's direction, just in time to find her grinning back at me.

Sierra McCoy keeps her gaze on me. She uncrosses her legs and slides closer to her desk, closer to me. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around this, Miss Topaz. Why now have you recently joined Miss Woods on her cause? Why have I not heard anything about….the group you represent?" The whispering from the bookshelf itches at my brain again. Why won't Sierra utter the name of my coven? This little voice wants me in here, with this woman, by these books, for a reason.

I make up a quick excuse. I tell her that I am the sole employee of my family's shop, that I had no time or energy to focus on my advocacy efforts until the recent deaths. I tell her of the speech I made, and how it led me to meeting Nancy, to joining her group. I casually make the joke of, "It's almost like fate wanted me to jump in. The universe works in its odd little ways."

My response seems to work. The Mayor makes no attempt to bash me for my answer. She just leans back in her seat, pondering how to next handle the situation. While I may be in the clear, I don't know if Nancy and her group are. I give Nancy a look of, Hang on, let me try something, before returning to the Mayor.

"Look, I know I just started yesterday, but….what Nancy has planned may be what brings Riverdale together. Normally, the Southside is at war with itself due to gang activity. But I haven't seen any internal gang wars since the protests began. Since Nancy brought her cause to light. The Southside is coming together as one to fight for a common goal - unity." The word leaves my mouth, it's like poisonous honey coating my tongue. Maybe because I used the last of the Serpents Laws (really, the Code of the Uktena) in context. In unity, there is strength. Nancy picks up on my words, studying me in wonder. Sierra remains motionless.

I finish spelling out my two cents, "This speech at the Jubilee will display that goal, hopefully. All her group wants is peace, just like everyone else right now. With all the terror and mass hysteria bubbling, we all just want peace." I end it there, slumping back into my seat.

Well, Granddad, I tried. I don't know if I won over any favors for Nancy, but I said what I needed to say. I just hope I'm right in the long run. Who knows how much longer the Reaper will terrorize the town? Who knows if Alice and her team will strike him down? And if she, or I, will live to bring back peace?

My fingers are greeted with another set of fingers. I tilt my head to find Nancy wrapping her hand around my own, a small grin appearing on her face. I can't help but smile in return.

Out of the corner of my eye, Sierra McCoy reaches for her planner to the side of her desk. She pulls it closer and flips it open to the current week. I spy the one end of her planner filled with notes and arrows pointing to JUBILEE. She removes a sheet tucked inside, opening it up. My heart races. Nancy's grip on my hand tightens. It's the roster for the Jubilee.

"It appears we may have spots open in the roster. A lot of acts are dropping like flies with all this hysteria in town. I could squeeze your group in for a speech." My face lights up. Nancy looks like she is about ready to jump out of her seat to hug the Mayor. We listen as she gives us the protocol for how to proceed - we have to keep the speech at five minutes, max. Beyond that, she asks that we stay focused.

Nancy stands up, letting go of my hand to extend it out to the older woman. "Miss McCoy, how do I even begin to thank you?"

"Just don't get yourselves into any form of trouble until then." Sierra accepts the handshake, beaming down at Nancy. I stand up, shaking my legs out to combat the cold. And the still strange feeling I can't shake out from my time in this room. I wait for Nancy to make her final goodbyes before I begin to follow her out, waving goodbye to the Mayor myself. I prepare to brace myself for stopping by that painting again. The blue dots are just there as part of the aesthetics, right? Something has to explain why I want to buckle to my knees when looking at those dots, and why I fear for what is yet to come.

"Miss Topaz." Sierra calls out to me, stopping Nancy and me in our path. The beaming look no longer exists on her face - she looks more stern when she addresses me. "Could you stay for just a minute longer?" The whispering voice returns, I want to send it away, block it out. What does the Mayor want from me? Nancy places her hand on my shoulder. "I'll be outside, Toni." She grins at the older woman before exiting out of the office, shutting the door behind her.

The empty space between the Mayor and me is startling. I can barely breathe, I can't bring myself to move back over to where I just sat. Sierra smoothes out her dress before she comes over to the front of the desk. Her eyes go to the floor as she rests up against the edge, gripping on with her hands.

"Have you brought your true nature to light with Miss Woods?"

Cold air pierces my eyeballs, forcing them open. I feel the strings of my heart detach from my lungs. Did….did I just hear her correctly? A lump builds in my throat, I have to swallow it down before I make any attempt to respond. Well, I can't get any words out of my mouth, so I just resort to shaking my head.

Sierra huffs, almost in relief. She looks back up at me. "Good. You might not want to share those details right away. Probably not with anyone else until whatever the hell is going on ends."

My lips split open, my stomach juts in and out in pace with my heartbeat. I'm beyond shocked. I'm flabbergasted. Sierra McCoy knows what I am? What the Serpents used to be? The questions float around my head like lifeboats drifting at sea. I have to know how she could have obtained this-

That book. The voice guided me to find that book. My eyes go back over to her shelves. The gold lettering twinkles at me, waiting for me to come over to the book and flip through its contents. Sierra picks up on my distraction, I can hear her wandering over next to me.

"I'm on your side, you know. The side of your kind. We're in the middle of troubling times, and it's gone on for as long as I've lived. Your kind's in grave danger, not only just from what's happening here, but what's going on worldwide." I see her hand lift, one finger curving out towards the book, as if she wants to tell me, Go. See what's inside.

My feet propel me forward, speeding to grab that book off the shelf. I rest the back on my hand, flipping open the contents. I take a moment to absorb what I see, what paragraphs and images stand out. It all makes me question the Mayor even more, but nevertheless, it makes me….in awe.

"I admit, I haven't jumped back into my practice since taking office, but with everything occurring, I figured it'd be the smartest decision." Sierra explains with my head still in her book. "I'll need the time following my official resignation to study up, to relearn your laws. But I doubt I'll have any trouble slipping back into my work. Do you find this to be a problem, Miss Topaz?" When she finishes, I look up at her. My head lightens, my lips part.

"You're a witch lawyer." I finally bring myself to speak. "But….but how did you come to…."

Sierra meanders over to me, gesturing over to the door. "I'll explain more, but at a later time. You might want to rejoin your friend, Miss Topaz, before she begins to panic." She holds out her hand, meaning that it's time for me to give back what belongs to her. I place the book back in her hands with a sigh. The older woman grins at me. "I look forward to working more with you in the future. And I will fight to make sure whoever replaces me will do the same."

I wait to see if she will offer her hand in agreeance, the way she did with Nancy. But I get nothing. Well, it's understandable - she's got an object in her hands, but it still hurts. I think she wants to know me better, and I of her. Without another word, or an awkward handshake, I leave Sierra's office.

I go through the recent minutes in my head. Sierra McCoy is a witch lawyer. She knows the Reaper still haunts this town. But what other dangers lie ahead for the Uktena? For the other witches in Riverdale? For Alice, her male companion, and that girl living with her?

Nancy waves to me from the end of the hall, pausing my thoughts. I wonder if I should tell Nancy everything about me. But what if Sierra is right afterall - if I share my origins with my friends, will it lead the Uktena to a deathtrap? I still have the rest of the week leading up to the Jubilee to decide. Right now, I should get back to my shop and prepare for tonight's meeting with Nancy and her team. I make my way over to her, deciding to sit on the idea until I map it all out. Besides, I could draw some inspiration from these art pieces.

Just as long as it doesn't include the Pickens Park piece with those blue dots.

XXXXXXXX

SABRINA

Maybe I made the wrong choice to have Jughead drive us all to school. I figured since Jughead and I would leave from the trailer park together, and….and since I may have damaged the relationship between him and V….I thought it would be nice to have all of us go over together. To work things out, as a team. We might have to if Salem does massacre everyone in Riverdale as his grande finale…..or if Jughead really does wind up killing….

I need to push that dream out of my head. Mister Jones did not get possessed! He and Jughead are on good terms, at least that's how they appeared during breakfast this morning. I know Jughead's parents and Ali want to sit us all down to scold us for jumping into a danger zone, but the extreme tensions from yesterday have apparently died out. Mister and Mrs. Jones looked calmer. Jughead seemed in high spirits. He showed me, and Joaquin, the current stats for our article on the Blue and Gold's website before we left the trailer park. So far, people enjoy the article. There's been some negative commentary, but mostly from people who don't even attend school with us. Thanks to Joaquin's advice, we figured it could be good to keep it up on the website until the physical copy gets printed in the school paper, just in case we need to make any edits.

That's probably also why I suggested we pick up V this morning. Maybe she could read through it on the drive over and provide any pointers. Either that or…..maybe I am just curious to see if Salem went back to Pembrooke after his escapade to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. To see if he's starting to display his true colors. To see where he will strike next.

Would Salem know that Joaquin lived, and that he's paying the price for my familiar's crimes? The question sits on the back of my brain as Jughead crosses the border from the Southside of Riverdale to the Northside. I run my fingertips down the screen of my phone, just having finished texting V that we were heading towards her direction. The air coming out of the little A/C unit blows into my face, I adjust the tab so it goes somewhere else in the truck. Even after doing such a small task, I'm still freezing.

The truck pulls up to the curb outside of Pembrooke. Jughead glances up at the looming building and sighs. Has he not been inside V's home? I know the library's close by, and so is the coffee shop we normally visit, but maybe this is Jughead's first time. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, then he looks over at me. "Surprised that our little feline demon's been MIA for so long. He's nowhere to be found around here."

At the mentioning of Salem, I peek out the windshield into the outside world. The air feels still, even from inside the car. No bad vibes surface. It's peaceful….is that a good thing or a sign of the bad to come? I lean back in my seat and huff. "Well, the article's only been up for less than 12 hours. He could be milking out the time he needs for his reappearance. Going to the Sisters must have worn him out…."

I look out my window, staring at the wooded area in the distance of this town. Salem could be roaming through the woods at this very moment. Why? Does he know I hate him? That I've snapped V out of his manipulation? Or….or maybe there's a reason he keeps disappearing after he kills….

A thought comes to me – What if he's gone because he needs to recharge? Is that why he drained me before killing Midge? He needed enough energy to put on that grandiose of a kill, and it wore him out. The way he got worn out after killing Chuck. I sit up straighter in my seat, bracing myself against the dashboard. Was going to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy too far of a stretch for him? That could explain this unusually long absence! And it could explain why he left V to her own accord, why he insisted she lead the Vixens into danger, turning the whole school against us.

Salem was in the Conway House for a reason. All of that time in there alone must have weakened him, and bonding with me gives him a way to grow strong again. But…..but how did he wind up in that house? How did he know I would come looking for a familiar? Salem was in that house for a reason….

Jughead taps me on the shoulder. "You okay, Teenage Witch?" He begins to pick up on my tenseness. He glances to the world outside our little sanctuary. "What is it? Did you see him?"

I shake my head, not sure of how to phrase my recent discovery in a way Jughead will understand. "I may have a theory….about why Salem hasn't shown his face around in a long time."

His interest peaks. He shifts around in his seat so he's directly facing me. "Well….go on, I'm listening."

A big breath in later, I paint my new picture. "When you read through those demonology books, did they….did they mention anything about energy sources? Or demons needing time to recharge their craft?"

"You think he's hiding out to fill up his internal gas tanks?" he asks, half-jokingly. I send eye daggers over to Jughead, hoping that I'm indicating how serious my theory is. He doesn't fight back or throw out another sarcastic joke. Instead, he begins to catch on, "Okay, I think I understand where you're going with this. But where could he go? He would need to be somewhere close by. I mean….how long did it take Salem to come back to you after the murders?"

I lean back in my seat again, fiddling with my thumbs. I have to think long and hard on this, to recall the memories. Salem came back to me half a day after Chuck Clayton. The same followed when he intended to kill Midge the first time, which only ended with him injuring Moose. But he took a week…..no, over a week, to reappear following Midge. It's only been a day since Rose Blossom, but going that far away means it's up in the air on how long he will hide in the shadows. What other factors do I have to consider? Amount of witchcraft-like energy used? The details behind his presentations? Where the deaths took place….

Chuck's house was near the forest. Pickens Park sits right on the edge. And the Conway House….

I turn to Jughead. "Do you know how much of Fox Forest surrounds the entirety of Riverdale? Like….what's the forest to town ratio?"

He sits on the question for a while, like the thought hasn't come to him before. The silence between us creeps onward. Then, the wheels begin to turn. His finger lifts, making a circle in the air.

"We're practically living in the middle of the woods, with a river running through the place. No matter where you go, you always run into the woods. Meaning…."

"He's everywhere." I complete the sentence, a smile forming on my face.

Our breakthrough gets interrupted when something outside taps on Jughead's window. We both practically jump 5 feet into the air, whipping our heads towards his side. Our heartbeats lower when we realize it's V, waving to us with a smirk. Jughead rolls his eyes, cranking down the window to lean out and speak to her. "Took you long enough, Park Avenue."

"Just let me in, Torombolo. I'm freezing." she sends the quippy remark back to him. I could laugh – it's good to see V back to normal again. It's good she and Jughead aren't biting each other's heads off. Jughead unlocks the doors so V can climb into the backseat. She slides down to my end, and when she sees me, she grins and squeezes my shoulder.

I lean back a bit, whispering, "Any signs of Salem?"

"Nope. Silent to the bone in Pembrooke. Besides, Daddy or I would have woken up in the middle of the night if Salem did try to break in." My mood dampens a little at the mentioning of Mister Lodge. I hope that whatever V did to him yesterday won't permanently damage him. Or worse, kill him. The way that I fear will happen to….

V takes my hand, "Don't worry, 'Brina. My father's recuperating quite well. Granted….we really didn't talk much during breakfast, but….we were both so worn out from yesterday. And the coffee hadn't hit yet." She ends her speech on a lighter note. That at least brings back some pep for me. I'm glad V's relationship with her father hasn't been tarnished. I'm glad we're all here in this car, staying somewhat mellowed out with our parental figures. I'm glad….but why do I have such a horrible dread for the future to come? Why do I feel like everything we all have done will flip on its head for the worst? What could go wrong?

Jughead starts up the truck again, pulling me out of my thoughts. For my own safety, I grab for Dad's amulet, a safeguard I made sure to keep on me this morning. Jughead tilts his head back to V, "Surprised the school didn't call you or your dad to demand that you quarantine after yesterday's episode."

V meets his gaze, and to my….well, am I really even surprised anymore? The veins on her face appear, like a shielded wall to block out any dangers. And that's even with her pearls on. I'm surprised she even wore them today. Yet again, she gave her father quite a scare, so they must have come to a compromise. She doesn't look comfortable now. With the pearls on, and her veins showing, she's twisting her neck around. Like the pearls are burning her skin.

She takes a deep breath, then replies, "I would have more details on that matter, but since Tina threw me out of the Vixens' group chat, I don't know if I'm exempt from the quarantine or not." She lets her hands fall into her lap, she begins to look gloomy. Guilty, even.

I look back to V as Jughead begins to pull away from Pembrooke. I wish I could reach into her mind, to hold that brain of hers in my hands, to tell it to not make her worry so much. But all there's left for me to do is to send a protection spell, or send a hex to anyone meaning to harm her. It's dreadful watching V tear herself apart.

She rolls her shoulders back and puts on a brave face. "All I hope is that Weatherbee doesn't make you quarantine, 'Brina. You practically did it all of last week." My heart falls down further beyond my stomach. I haven't considered what Principal Weatherbee would do about my situation. I was just lucky to go back and attend classes yesterday. Now with these seizures and quarantine demands….my luck may not last. However, I don't want to jump to any conclusions about Principal Weatherbee, or about anyone else. Making up assumptions on others have done nothing to me but place them six feet under.

Our conversation drops after that statement. Beyond that, there's no talk of the article, or of the seizures, or V's condition. And it's probably for the best it didn't get brought up into the limelight. I'm in no mood to play mediator between V and Jughead at this time of the morning. So, an awkward silence rides with us all the way to school. Jughead fumbles with the radio for a bit but he gives up after a few minutes. V runs her fingertips across the edges of her nail polish, which has started to chip. I keep my head tilted out to the window, the town's buildings blending together with nature growing behind them. He could be hiding out inside one of these places. Or maybe he is waiting in the woods until the hysteria dies down. Is it a horrible thing that I want him to come out? That I want him to feel exposed and vulnerable, the way I feel vulnerable? The way V does? Is it me being a bad friend that I want to keep Jughead away after experiencing my dreams, and to end things with Salem myself?

Do I even want to know the truth from Ali anymore? Am I even ready to learn the truth?

We pull into the school's parking lot, already beginning to fill up. Our classmates are either gossiping out in random spaces, or they're racing into the building, hoping they aren't running late for class. Jughead puts the truck into park, it makes one last puff before turning off. He turns back to V, commenting, "I….thanks for tagging along. I know I'm not a fancy limo driver from New York, or an Uber driver you have on speed dial-"

"I appreciate the gesture, Jughead." V cuts him off, the corners of her lips curling upward. Despite the timing of her movements, I realize quickly that she is being genuine. And he's not reacting to her in an appalling manner. Okay, that's at least a good sign. No hostility here. I feel my own lips curling upward, weight being lifted from my shoulders.

V grabs her school bag and opens up the car door. "Let me know when you guys are ready, and we can walk in together. Better in numbers, am I right?" She leaps out of the truck, shutting the door behind her.

I look out the windshield at the flood of people in front of us. What comments will my classmates make today following yesterday's disaster? Will they call me a monster? The bride of the devil? Will they accuse me of being a Riverdale Reaper sympathizer? Well, that's assuming they read the online version of the article. I sigh, mentally preparing myself for the school day. The dangers yet to come.

I turn to Jughead. "So….you ready to enter the Thunderdome?"

His eyes widen at me. His mouth gapes. "Did….did you just steal my phrase? I thought I was the quippy one in this friendship, but….I guess I've been dethroned." Following that, he starts cackling. And so do I.

"Oh, calm down. I'm too much of an optimistic Energizer Bunny to suddenly become the snarky, sharp-tongued realist. That's your job." We start to exit the truck, quickening our pace to catch up to V.

"Don't forget – I'm the snarky, sharp-tongued realist that loves food."

V scoffs. "Really? You love food? I never knew that." Jughead rolls his eyes at her, throwing me into another cackling fit. Feeling light and radiating, I link arms with V. I prompt for Jughead to link arms too in hopes he'll join in on the fun, but he politely refuses. So, V and I end up skipping up to the front of the school, getting weird looks from our classmates which we ignore.

V has to slow us down, she's fighting to catch her breath while giggling. "Well, here's to a good day of school, 'Brina."

I follow up with, "And may we not have to be sent home to quarantine, or have to deal with haters!"

Perhaps I spoke to soon. Because the moment I finish my sentence, Principal Weatherbee appears, staring us down from the top of the stairway leading up to the main building. "Miss Mullway. Miss Lodge. I need to have a word with both of you in my office."

XXXXXXXX

The office is certainly much cheerier than the room Mr. Hawthorne resided in back at Baxter. Yet, I still feel that same sense of utter guilt, like I'm in trouble. Probably because V and I both are. We sit down in front of Weatherbee's desk, waiting for him to finish conversing with the secretary out front. I twiddle my thumbs nervously. I hope this won't prompt Ali or Mister Lodge to come pick us up. Will they join us too? What about Jughead? I glance out the little window, watching for any signs of life out in the real world. So far, nothing. Maybe Weatherbee is planning on meeting with Jughead separately. I still can't piece together what exactly we were pulled in for. The article or the seizures? What about V? I look over at my friend. Her leg is bouncing, her nails are digging into her kneecaps. Her veins have appeared full force. The skin hiding underneath her pearls turns bright red.

Weatherbee enters his office, shutting the door behind him. I know he's staring at the wall over his chair as he strides over to the other side of the desk, but I feel as if those eyes are glued onto me. Onto V. He straightens his suit jacket before he can sit down. "Ladies, I won't hold you up for too long." he states, "I just need to get the facts. Straight-up. A lot has occurred within the walls of this school, and…." He pauses, huffing.

"And what?" V snaps at him. Weatherbee glances over at me, looking rather guilty. Then, he looks over at V. His fingertips drum on his desk.

"Miss Patel and your other teammates are making some pretty serious accusations about you. And Miss Mullway."

A draft breeze blows through the office. I wrap my arms over my stomach. I'm shivering, despite the fact that I'm wearing one of my heavier coats. Maybe I'm doing this to cover up my nerves. What else has Tina said of me? Of V? Every second that passes with the three of us in silence, I can feel the strings of my heart detaching from my chest, threatening to plummet down to my stomach.

V is the one that breaks the silence. She keeps her gazes fixated on Weatherbee as she places a hand on my shoulder. "Principal Weatherbee, I think I can speak on behalf of 'Brina and myself when I say we had nothing to do with yesterday's events. Especially 'Brina. I mean, she couldn't even return to school until-"

"I understand your position, Miss Lodge." Weatherbee cuts her off, unexpectedly. "I only ask because, as I am to understand, you have taken over leadership for the cheer team as of recently."

"I'm a co-captain." V explains, beginning to let go of my shoulder. She crosses her arms over herself, shrinking into the seat. "Was a co-captain. I'm not so sure about that anymore."

Weatherbee takes a long inhale, nodding his head. "So the impromptu pep rally was more than just solely your idea, Miss Lodge?" I'll admit - the question does come off a little bit accusatory. I personally know Weatherbee means well, but I don't think V views him in that same lens. She glares up at him.

"What did the other girls say to you? Do you think I'm the one that made the girls have seizures? Do you think…." She stops. She grits her teeth together and winces. Her skin is becoming more irritated underneath the pearls. Those veins are waiting to take her body over. Whole.

V glances up at the ceiling and laughs. "This is about more than just the seizures, isn't it?" She looks back down at Weatherbee. "You think we hurt Midge the night of the pep rally?"

Now my heart has become detached from its strings. Jolts of nervous energy runs through my veins. No….no, we didn't kill her. We sent her to her executioner, yes, but we didn't complete the act ourselves. Nor did we with Chuck. So this is Salem's way of getting even with me. From framing me and V with the deaths while he gets to walk away.

My mind could go on to say more, but I force myself to pay attention when Weatherbee answers her question. "I'm not accusing you girls of anything, and I won't send you to the police either. But there is a school-safety concern within the matters of these current deaths."

"That being?"

"I don't want to speculate on rumors, Miss Lodge, but you did have quite the heated relationship with Miss Klump. There were multiple witnesses claiming you verbally threatened her days before her eventual demise."

Her veins flare up, making her skin more agitated. This is going to get ugly. Fast.

I place my hand over hers, speaking on behalf of both of us. "Principal Weatherbee, if I may…. V was only trying to protect me, and the rest of the team! And….and she wasn't nearby before Midge's death." I have to stop rambling for a second to collect my thoughts. It pains me to admit my faults, but I got myself into this mess. I have to be the one to clean it up. I breathe in, then continue, "I was the last person to see Midge alive. Ginger was too, you could ask her when she's well. And V and I were both with Moose on the field. We would never have led him astray like that. It's the truth, Principal Weatherbee. I promise."

Weatherbee leans back in his chair, absorbing the information I just provided. I really did mean what I said, for the most part. My anger towards Midge in that time period caused severe damages, but I never intended for Moose to be the target. And when the pep rally did come around, I regretted every bit of my actions. If only I had realized back then how manipulative Salem was, preying on my doubts and fears. Preying on V's condition….

I take one more glance over at V. The veins die down a little, which I guess is a positive sign. She meets my gaze and squeezes my hand. Despite her calm appearance, the grip is a bit tight. Her hand is rattling in mine, I don't know if from the cold, or from pure anxiousness. What else can I do for my friend to make her worries disappear? Really, all I can do is give her a look of, Hang on, we'll get through this. I just hope it's enough.

Our little moment ends when Weatherbee recaptures our attention. "Are you both aware of the article Mister Jones is writing?" We both look at him funny. How could we not? I'm the one helping Jughead with the article! And V is….well, she's willing to give the article a critical glance! And she went into the Conway House with us, so that must count for something! I tell Weatherbee all of this (minus us going to the house, for obvious reasons). He responds back with, "I surely hope for both your sake, and for the sake of your friend, that the recent tragedies we have faced aren't correlated with the subject of your article."

It takes all of my energy to keep myself from blurting out, But that's what I'm afraid of, Principal Weatherbee. I think whatever I bonded with is replicating the moves of the Reaper. It does correlate to everything now, and maybe everything then too.

Instead, I say, "I'll pass the word onto Jughead. The Blue and Gold appreciates your input, sir."

The older man grimaces at me. For what it's worth, I'll take the warming gesture. Weatherbee stands up and straightens out his suit vest. "I believe that's all I had for you ladies regarding that matter. However…." he pauses, losing the cheerful expression. Wait, this may not be good. Weatherbee continues, with remorse, "I might need to have you ladies return home, since you are supposed to be on quarantine schedule."

Great. Just when I thought I could skate through the day, I get bombarded with this. I understand why the quarantine needs to happen - a good population of the Riverdale student body suffered from unexplainable seizures, and it's wise to protect the safety of everyone else on site. But why me? I wasn't that close to the disaster, and neither was…. I look over to V, and she's fuming. The veins have reappeared.

"Hold on. You're making US go home?" She stands up, letting go of my hand. Weatherbee goes to explain his position, but V interjects. "Sabrina's practically been in quarantine for the past week! She wasn't anywhere near the Vixens when the seizures took place-"

"Miss Lodge, I'm trying to do what's best for the student body." he maintains a calm yet stern composure. V glances over at me, growing more furious. I'm beginning to worry here. What if V lashes out at Weatherbee the way she….the way she did to her own father?

Weatherbee continues, "If you or Miss Mullway contracted anything similar to what your teammates did, it could be a risk. And if someone like Miss Mullway's guardian, or your father, Miss Lodge-"

V goes stone cold. I can't tell if she's going to cry or scream, or do a combination of both. Her voice is dry when she asks, "What does my father have to do with any of this? I did NOT cause those seizures to happen, Principal Weatherbee. And it certainly wasn't my father's idea to do it either!"

He's at a loss of words, and so am I. He goes to find what to say next, anything to reassure V that his concern is not an attack on the Lodge Family. He better do it quick, or I better….because I'm afraid of what will come if he doesn't. I stand up and reach for V. I go to tell her to hang on, to listen to the older man in front of us. She looks at me over her shoulder, the dark material beginning to pollute her eyes. She whispers, "I can handle this, 'Brina. Just trust me."

"My apologies for the miscommunication, Miss Lodge." Weatherbee starts as he makes his way back to the doorway. "Here, let me get someone at the front desk to contact your father. Surely we can get this all sorted out-"

Before I can even blink, V latches onto Weatherbee. She keeps a firm grip on his arm, she stares right into his eyes, hers all black, his ghostly white. I'm frozen, the color about to leave my face. Her veins are curling around the edges of her pearl necklace, begging to be released from their prison. The skin around the area glows an orange-red.

V growls, her voice rippling into the air, "SABRINA AND I ARE CLEAR FROM QUARANTINE PROTOCOLS. YOU WILL LEAVE OUR PARENTAL GUARDIANS OUT OF THIS MANNER. AND IF THERE IS ANY ATTEMPT FOR ANYONE TO MAKE US LEAVE, OR TO HARM US IN ANY WAY, IT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. WE. ARE. NOT. LEAVING."

It's like watching Dr. Jekyll transform into Mr. Hyde, then back again. The rippling effect stops, Weatherbee's eyes go back to normal. V lets him go and stumbles back into the desk. She brings her hands to her neckline, at where her pearls sit. I glare back at her, almost tempted to scream to high hell. But I don't - I look to Weatherbee…. He looks more calm and composed. He tilts his neck from side to side, like he didn't experience anything out of the ordinary.

"Well, ladies….I don't have any other reason to hold you here. You're both free to go." He walks back around to his desk, the whole affair is funny. In a creepy way.

V pushes herself away from the desk, bending down to reach for her bag. She straightens back up, keeping a cold expression as she stares down our principal. "Thank you." With that, she walks out of the office.

I barely can bid Weatherbee a proper farewell before I race out the door to catch up to V. When we make it out into the hallway, without anyone observing our interaction, V leans back against the wall. I'm about to open my mouth, to ask what the heaven that was she did back there, when I see her awkward stance. She's pawing at her pearl necklace, now irritating the skin underneath. She's wincing. The pearls - they're choking her. Her condition is no longer reacting well to her pearls.

"Here. Let me." I step in and help V unclasp the pearls from her neck. It falls into my hand. She's able to calm back down, rubbing one side of her neck. The veins disperse and fade back into the skin. All that's left is a faint red mark, like a blister.

I go to ask my question, only to be met with, "Don't, 'Brina. I know what I did." V huffs, fighting to keep her emotions together. She's tearing up a little. I do feel bad for her, to some extent. She lost control. She was triggered by a touchy subject. But….but was what she performed on Weatherbee permissible? I'm not so sure….

"V, what kind of spell was that?" I throw out in a hushed voice. "Is it….is it something new? Were you able to do it before?"

Her gaze goes distant. She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms. "I don't know. I mean….it's just mind manipulation when it comes to the basics. But…..but I haven't been that….aggressive with it. If that's what I think you're asking." She then looks up at me, feeling more ashamed of her actions. She nibbles on her lip, still smoothing out the newly formed bump on her neck.

What else can I do now? I already offered her Jughead's research capabilities. I offered her my unconditional friendship. She still has her father. What if it's not enough? What else could be down to prevent V from being overtaken by a rare condition no other witch I've known lives with? And if Salem got to the worst of her….

There's a reason she is able to hear him. There's a reason V and Salem click so well together. Salem noticed something about V that she probably didn't know about herself. Salem saw an opportunity for V to take back power for herself.

There has to be a reason he wants her to lose herself to her condition.

I stand in front of V and take both of her hands into my own. "Look at me, V. You are strong. You're one of the strongest people I know. Don't allow this stupid thing to ruin your life. It does not control you."

She rolls her eyes. "I wish that were true, 'Brina. But….I think I get where you're going with this." Her face relaxes, her lips curl upward. She edges away from the wall, bringing her forehead to meet mine. "That's why you're my bestie. And the best."

I crack a smile. We both wrap our arms around one another, staying in this hug for what seems like forever. V went to the gates of Hell and back yesterday, and she's come out….well, not so the V I remember. But that girl who walked into the Conway House with me is still in her somewhere. She has to be. I refuse to lose my friend to a twisted darkness that's unexplainable, and I won't lose her to a twisted demonic hellcat.

We break away and start to head down the hallway, hand in hand. Groups of students rush past us, whipping out their phones. From the other end of the hallway, we notice a hoard of students huddled close towards a section of the lockers.

"Oh no." V groans. "Don't tell me one of the Bulldogs decided to streak down the school halls. I don't think I can stomach it at this hour of the day."

From what I can hear, it doesn't sound like laughter over Bulldog madness. In fact, it doesn't sound like anything related to a student athlete at all. The crowd grows bigger the closer we get. And the more I realize….why is everybody so close to….

Jughead breaks through the crowd, hunting for both V and me nervously. He spots us and rushes over. "There you are, Snake Plissken. I was worried 'Brina and I lost you for good." V snarks. He doesn't acknowledge the comment, nor does he make eye contact with her. He's looking straight at me, in utter fear.

He can barely speak in a complete sentence, "Sabrina….You might not want to go over there."

A dull ache forms in my head. My heart starts to beat a hundred miles a minute. My hands shake. Why is half of the student body swarmed into one area of the hallways? And….and why does Jughead not want me to go over there?

V peers over his shoulder at the crowd behind him. "The hell is going on back there? More seizures?"

Before Jughead can attempt to answer her question, Archie appears by his side. He shares a just-as-equally fearful glance. Okay….something is definitely rotten in the halls of Riverdale High.

Archie looks down at me. He stutters on his words, "Sabrina, I….I don't know what to tell you. But….but, I'm so sorry."

"Archie, Jughead," V raises her voice, "could one of you please use your brain cells to tell us what is going on?" My tongue feels glued to the root of my mouth. I almost have the nerve to add in, And what does it have to do with me?

The boys glance at each other, then back to the chaotic scene populating, then back at us. Archie goes to speak up, but Jughead raises his hand, quieting him. Jughead pushes his beanie back, exposing his unruly hair. He sighs.

"It's your locker, Sabrina. Someone's vandalized your locker."

Dizziness. Ears ringing. Vile in my throat. Tense hands. The world goes mute.

I stumble away from these people, heading towards the war zone. I can't hear the others calling my name behind me, telling me to wait, telling me to not go over to my locker and embrace my fate. But what other fate lies before me that's more promising than what I've been given? I fight my way through the sea of people. They notice my presence, they point their cameras at me. The hallway lights begin to burn my eyes. It reeks of sweat and blood. The sweat makes sense, the blood….

The space opens. I make my way to the epicenter of the hallway's madness, feeling out in the open. Exposed. Finally, I see why my locker is causing so much controversy this early in the morning. My heart stops. The vile in my throat begs to come up through my mouth. My eyes water. Now I know where I'm getting the smell of blood.

Copies of the article are taped onto the space that was my locker. A little voodoo-doll like figurine with yellow hair and X-out eyes hangs on a baby noose. And the blood….it paints a picture under the doll. A picture in the form of a sentence.

GO TO HELL, MURDERER

So this is how I am to be sent back to the Dark Lord. I can't tell whether I want to vomit or to cry. I brought this onto myself. I allowed a cat to manipulate me into providing lambs to slaughter. And now I've paid for it with my reputation, with my friendships, and with what I have left of my sanity. This is why the Dark Lord has such a high price on my soul and my head.

Flashes of light from the cameras behind me pollute my vision, suddenly blurring. I stumble backward, colliding into someone. Who? An arm tugs me away from the scene, but I can't keep my eyes off this graveyard built just for me. A muffled voice says my name. Another hand grabs for me, I feel handprints everywhere. I don't want people to touch me anymore. I don't want people saying my name anymore. I just want to be left alone.

"Sabrina," Jughead's voice comes into my head loud and clear. He begs, "come on, it's not worth it." When I finally come to grips with reality, I look over my shoulder, not to find Jughead, but to find V at my other side. The veins spread into the whites of her eyes. Her cheeks turn scarlet red. Her knuckles go yellowish white. Behind her, Archie stands there baffled and heartbroken. The rest of the student body continues to ridicule my response to the surprise at my locker. The flashes glow brighter. The chorus of laughter echoes into my ear drums. It all blends into one voice, one menacing laugh.

SEE?

Nausea hits me. I squeeze my eyes shut. I cover my ears. He's here….Salem is hiding somewhere in these walls, or in the bodies of one of my classmates. But where? In who? Is it even Salem, or is it the Dark Lord playing tricks? Luring me back home with one grande finale?

SEE, SABRINA?

I feel those ice blue eyes staring me down, from which part of the hallway I can't tell. I open my eyes, daring my stability to outsource the creator of my turmoil. My head goes to one end of the hallway. Nothing but slow motion mockery from the student body. I go to the next….

Corpses watch my deterioration with cold grins. Seeing the discoloration and the life leaving their bodies leaves me uneasy. It makes me regret the choices I made even further. And their wounds further remind me of what I did to get to this place. And they're still wearing the clothes Salem killed them in. Chuck in soaking wet jeans. Midge in her Vixens uniform. Rose Blossom in her robe. Her daughter with burn marks and neck wounds.

One more person stands with them. The blond boy I saw in the burning ruins of Thornhill with the Blossom girl. The face Moose described during our meeting. Is THIS Hal Cooper? Or another victim of the Reaper, or Salem? Why is my memory failing me? And to make it all worse - he's the only one not adonishing a look of distress or anger. He looks….pleased. Like he wants to see me falter. Like he's enjoying watching the students of Riverdale rip me apart.

In the same voice he used in that vision, the one that for whatever reminds me of Salem, he says, "You see, Sabrina? See what happens when you go against me?"

It's no coincidence this voice sounds like Salem. It's no coincidence why this stranger's eyes have a haunting similarity to the ones of my familiar. This is Salem. He's using the bodies of my ghosts to taunt me. He's using the faces haunting me to reinstate his point.

This is Salem punishing me.

Knots form in my stomach. My body shudders. Jughead tries to pull me away from the scene, but it makes the nauseous feeling worse. I yank myself free, bolting away in the opposite direction. My feet move in light-year speed, breaking through the awing and social-media obsessed crowd. Vile builds in my throat, I don't know if I can swallow down. My eyes water at the uneasy sensation, it's much worse than what I felt this morning.

At last, I'm by myself in the hallway, making a break for the nearest restroom on this floor. One hands keeps the flood gates closed at my mouth, the other pushes open the bathroom door. I can barely make it in before the last of my strength gives out. I go to the closest stall to the door, staggering….staggering….until my knees give out.

It all comes out at once. It tastes awful, and no matter what I do to keep the action minimum, it gets worse. It goes on for what feels like years. Eventually, my stomach produces no more, my throat goes scratchy and dry. My chin hangs over the rim of the toilet. My head spins, my eyes glued to the mess I made below me. The smell is foul. I wait for some strength to return, then I reach my hand up to grab hold of the handle. What I produced swirls downward, reducing in size until it disappears completely.

I lean back against the stall and sob. What have I done? How could I have been so stupid? So utterly selfish? I let my anger towards my family's allegiances fracture our reputation. I allowed my loneliness to make me sueded by a demon cat. And my unchecked anger….my miniscule grievances caused the deaths of people I barely knew. I acted on rumors and third-hand accounts. I cost Chuck, Midge, and Rose Blossom their lives because I don't know who I am and what I want.

My hands go to Dad's amulet. I hang my head, bringing the amulet to my forehead. "Mom….Dad….Aunties….Ambrose….I'm so sorry." I mutter. I try to remember what Ambrose said about working the amulet before I left home. Did he give me advice on how to work this thing? A spell to conjure to contact him and my Aunts? What did he say? Why can't I remember?

"Let me come home." I plead into the amulet, although I'm worried it won't do me any justice. "I don't want to keep running anymore. Please, just help me. Give me a sign. Anything." The amulet feels cool against my dampening skin. A chill runs through me. Is my call working? No….no I doubt the plea reached the ears of my family. Has all form of communication with my life back in Greendale ceased to exist? Maybe that's why Ali and I have received nothing but radio silence. I am a hopeless cause. A throwaway. A mistake.

No, Sabrina, the forgiving part of my brain tells me. The part of myself that sounds like Ali. Don't talk to yourself this way. You are not a mistake. You've made mistakes, yes….but you are on this planet for a reason. You will find your way home. You will find your purpose. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but it will come to you, one way or another.

This self-talk brings me some comfort. I still feel helpless, but it calms my nerves. It stops my blubbering. I lift my head, easing the grip on Dad's amulet. I reek of vomit and sweat. I'm getting chilly staying here on this floor. I should get my act together. I need to get cleaned up and get back to class. I can't let the student body of Riverdale High know they broke me…..or tried to break me. I need to prove that I am unbreakable. I can be redeemed. But I can work out my redemption arc later. Now, I need to get back up on my feet. I need to wash my face, get this vomit taste out of my mouth. I place one hand on the rim of the toilet, the other against the wall. I move up carefully, my knees cracking while straightening. My hand on the toilet leaves and falls at my side. I keep my other hand on the stall wall, just a little bit longer until I can take deep breaths. Until I can reassure myself that I will go on with my day, head held high. Until I can convince myself that everything will be okay.

I leave the stall, only to collide into another body. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" I go to help the person, to reach out to them, but I stop. The person I made contact with, she's in the middle of a breakdown. Much worse than what I just went through. And this girl….she looks familiar, and at the same time she doesn't. Anything that defines her as a Pussycat is nowhere to be found.

"Josie?"

"Don't, please….don't worry about it." Josie shrugs off the collision, going over to one of the sinks. I can't tell why she looks so wounded, so alone. Where are the other members of her band? The other girls? And why is she upset? Josie swipes away a tear with the edge of her fingernail. She puts on a weak attempt to grin. "I'll be alright. I'll get over it."

"Josie," I take a step towards her, "where are the other Pussycats?"

She glares down her reflection in the mirror and rolls her eyes. "Trust me. It's not worth getting you involved. I bet you already have enough on your plate." She places her hands down on the rim of the sink. She tilts her head over at me. "You're that new girl on the cheer team, right? Sabrina?"

The sound my name leaving her lips throws me a bit on edge, but she doesn't sound cruel. The gesture is completely innocent. I nod my head. She curls her lips upward. "Yeah. My problems don't nearly sound as awful as yours." She goes back to staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her lips quiver. Her eyes gloss over. Something's not right.

She slams her palm down onto the ceramic of the sink, letting out a wince. "The Pussycats are gone. We broke up." She tearfully confesses. I say nothing….I don't know how to respond. Josie and the Pussycats are no more? What could have led to them ending the band? Before I can throw out the question, Josie blubbers, "Valerie and Melody didn't want to stay in a town where their lives were constantly at risk. Their families no longer saw Riverdale as a place for their children to grow up in. So….it's just me here. Just me to play at the Jubilee, no band, no backup, no…."

Josie stops. She pushes herself away from the sink, bringing her hands up to smooth down the back of her ponytail, holding the ends at her fingertips. Her hands fall back down to the sink, resting there with a plunk.

"You know what's stupid?" she asks out of the blue. I stay silent, but she continues. "I spent so much of my time with the other girls. I built a name for all of us, together. All I know how to be is a member of Josie and the Pussycats. I don't…..I don't know how to be me. I don't know how to be….Just Josie." I notice a tear stream down her cheek. And I'm standing here doing nothing to help her.

I shouldn't intrude on Josie's personal affairs. I haven't lived her life, I haven't lost years worth of friendship and creativity due to a town crisis. Yes, I had a parent who acted as a leader, but he's dead. Josie still has her parents, from what I can gather, but who knows where their fates lie in the nearby future. Josie has worked so hard to get to where she stands today. I don't want to compare my life to hers, I shouldn't. But in some way….I think Josie and I may have similarities, definitely in terms of following family legacies.

I am no longer able to forge my own path with ease. But maybe I can help Josie with hers. Maybe this is the sign I was looking for.

She regains some composure, reaching for the paper towel dispenser so she can dry off her face. "Jesus, I'm sorry. I don't mean to bombard you with this information. We barely even know each other."

"Why are you sorry?" I finally say. Josie looks over at me, shocked at my response. I follow up with, "Josie, you….you shouldn't be sorry. You're allowed to talk about this stuff. I know that band meant a lot to you."

"Thanks." she giggles, curling the paper towels in her hands. "I know, I….I can't really talk about this with most people I know. I could with my mom….but she's been so busy with all this resignation crap, and the Jubilee. And now I don't have Valerie or Melody around. But…." she pauses, taking a long deep breath, "you know what they say: The show must go on." She glances my way and gives me a heartbreaking wink.

My head reels. What can I do to help her? If she is a way for me to do some good while I'm still here in Riverdale, what will help? I get thinking….the Jubilee. She said the Pussycats were planning to perform. Her mother is hosting it as her final act as Mayor. What will bring Josie some relief on the night of the Jubilee? The Vixens may not be a good option - my allegiance to V and the Blue and Gold have soured my relations with the team. Who else? Who could be willing to act as the Pussycats 2.0? Come on, Sabrina, think!

Just as my brain runs out of options, it hits me. One face comes to mind. One person who believes Josie is the world.

ARCHIE. I HAVE TO GET TO ARCHIE!

"Hey….are you alright, new girl?" I snap awake, lifting my hands in thought.

I ask her, "Josie….you're still part of the Jubilee, right?"

She tilts her head down at me, not sure of where I'm going with this. "That's….kind of why I'm freaking out. Why?"

"Give me until the end of the day. I may have an idea of how to help you with your performance!" I begin to back away, heading towards the door. "Come to Pop's tonight. Let's say….does 8 sound good?"

"Okay, where are you going with this?"

I go back over to her, holding my hands out. "Do you trust me, Josie?" My breathing gets harder. I have no clue if Josie will take my word for my promises. I don't know if she'll even take me up on the offer. But what other choice do we have?

She nods. My heart lightens. I smile. "Give me until tonight. I'll have it all together by then. Pop's at 8?"

Josie sighs, slowing beginning to see my plan through. "Alright."

With that, I make a run for the door, leaving Josie behind in the bathroom. The hallway appears much brighter now that my head is clear. Now that I have determination and focus. I can put the whole mess with Salem behind me! I don't have to fret over the article! Chuck and Midge died because I failed to see them as human. I failed to help bring them towards something good. But now I can do it for Josie and Archie. I can help them! Well, I can….if I can find Archie.

Luckily, my search doesn't take much longer. Near where my locker was vandalized, I spot a hoard of Bulldogs stripping down paper from the lockers. They're cleaning up my locker? I...I don't know what to say. And at the leadership of this project stands the person I'm looking for.

Archie leaves Moose and Reggie to delegate the clean up tasks when he sees me coming over. "Sabrina, you're okay! We got worried about you. So….so we decided to-"

"Thanks, Archie." I cut him off. "Hey, you got any plans for tonight?" He's stunned by the question. He glances over his shoulder behind him, then back at me. I roll my eyes, "I mean, were you planning on doing more music tonight?"

"I…." he stutters on his words, "I was….no?" My shoulders relax. A light, airy feeling runs through me. I don't think I've felt this confident about anything since….not since my initial plans of revenge on my classmates. But that was then. And this is now. I smile.

"Well, you better reconsider that, Archie. Because I think I just found a way for you to have that conversation with Josie."

XXXXXXXX

ALICE

It feels good to be back at the diner. I missed the atmosphere, and I missed getting my hands dirty with pie-making. The moment I stepped foot into the kitchen this morning, I instantly felt at home. I felt giddy having my nails caked with flour, my apron soaked with fruit juice and whipped cream. Granted, my arms are a little weak from not carrying trays for nearly a week, but by mid-morning, I was able to jump back into a good rhythm. The waiting of tables and the pie making helped me take my mind off everything. Threats of Hal looming in the woods. Fears of Hiram getting sick, and Veronica possessed with dark magic. The fragile state of my relationship with Sabrina….

I know we need to talk. I know I have to tell her everything. I owe it to her. We as the adults owe it to all of our kids, blood or not. I hate that I've remained this distant with her. I promised her and her Aunts I could protect her best interests, her wellbeing. And look what it's done for both of us. I can't voice this concern with my fellow staff members at the diner, so I send my nervous energy into this piece of pie crust dough I knead. I give it one punch, then another. I grab some wrap from the corner of the table and place my dough ball into the center. Once it's all wrapped up, I throw the ball into the freezer and sigh.

I just hope for the sake of this weekend we can all make it to the Jubilee without another death, without another argument. And I'm not just talking about my situation with Sabrina. I hope that FP and Gladys can forgive their son for his recklessness, and continue to be a shining light for Jellybean. I hope Hiram and Veronica can maintain their peace. I hope Toni can make headway in growing her alliances for the Uktena. We all deserve a damn break. We deserve a weekend of peace with no blood. With no anticipation of wisdom from the Spellmans. With no Hal.

The day goes on smoothly. People come in and out, pleased to see me waiting on them again. For a moment, we forget the trouble outside on the streets, the danger lurking at every corner. It's peaceful, and it's numbing. Too numbing, to be quite honest. It gets to the point where I am waiting for something exciting to occur. I want someone new to walk in through the doors. Have I been so used to expecting the worst that I don't know how to sit back and enjoy life at its best?

When it comes closer to the afternoon, I hover over the bar counter as I sketch out a design for my new tattoo. I still wonder if I should have the serpent curl around my forearm or shoulder, or if it should slither down my back. Maybe I can ask Gladys for her opinion when she gets here. Once I get a basic design onto paper, I tap my pen down on the counter. Okay, maybe I should consult with a professional tattoo artist to create a better design. Who could I go to for my tattoo? Toni mentioned a place in the middle of the Southside, Pretty Poisons I think. Would it be wise? I don't know, but I'll keep the place in mind. Deciding to take a break from sketching, I begin to run off my thoughts. Should I take a quick break to see if Joaquin needs a hot meal back at the trailer park? Should I draft out my talk with Sabrina tonight? I know the talk needs to happen, one way or another. I could prepare….

Or, I could hold it off for the night and maybe spend the evening with Hiram in Pembrooke. It felt odd going back last night and fall asleep without him nearby. The weight of him felt comforting. His presence alone….it's indescribable how much I crave it now. But why? What about him has changed? And what was he going to tell me before I sent us both to sleep? I should have let him speak, I think to myself as I plug in a customer's card information. I wonder what goes through his head most of the time when I'm alone with him. Does he think of the possibilities the way I do? Is he battling inner emotions the way I am? Is he scared to….to admit how he feels about me? The way I'm debating how I feel for him?

My thoughts become interrupted when a pair of hands latches on to my shoulders. I lurch forward, almost squealing. I go to fire off a defensive spell when whoever decided to spook me brings their lips close to my ear. "Clock out, witch. I'm taking over for you." I sigh. It's just Gladys. I need to get a grip - first Jellybean, now Gladys? Maybe I have let too much of my guard down recently. But hey, I'd rather take the Joneses find amusement in sneaking up behind me over Hal ripping Sabrina's soul to shreds in front of my eyes.

I turn around to face her just as she steps off to my side. "Um….I'm still scheduled for another thirty minutes. So, nice try." I give her a smirk and rip out the receipt from the cash register.

"Too bad. You already worked over eight hours. Can't have you taking all the tips." Gladys is quick on her feet with her response. I roll my eyes, starting to walk away. She follows me like a lost puppy as I return the card and receipt to my last table.

"You need me to pick up JB from school?"

She shakes her head at me. "Grabbed her on the way home from the shop. Joaquin's keeping an eye on her, but I don't think it'd be wise to have him play babysitter all afternoon." The last part feels like a jab to the ribs. Crap, I didn't consider Joaquin having to look after the youngest Jones. But at the same time…. I leave the table, patiently wandering behind Gladys back to the bar counters. Bringing up Joaquin in front of the diner's crowd is a bit risky, we're both aware. But I think I get where Gladys may be going in trying to shoo me out of the diner. With a day to rest and lie low, Joaquin might now have a better insight as to what happened at the Sisters. He might have better luck at confirming Hal's actions. And….it could bide me time to prepare for my conversation with Sabrina. If I still want to prepare for that.

Gladys is right - I probably should go relieve Joaquin of babysitting duties. But in a few minutes. I think I still have one more table to wait down at the other end, and I'm not sure if my pie dough is done setting in the freezer. I lift a finger up to her, scooting one step at a time towards the kitchen. "Just let me….I need to…." I intentionally speak slow, hoping it will draw out the amount of time I have left. But Gladys is falling for my goofy antics. She raises a brow at me as I inch closer to the kitchen. "I'm going to finish up my pies real quick."

She grins, maliciously. "Okay. Then, I guess you won't mind if I go ahead and punch you out." Before I can even process what she just said, Gladys makes a run for the other end of the diner. My mouth gapes open, so do my eyes.

"NO! GLADYS!" I sprint off after her, but I'm too late. She's at the time clock, removing my time card from the rack off the wall. She jams it into the slot when I finally reach her. I grab for her wrist, but she yanks it away, still keeping my time card in her clutch with an evil grin. And I thought JB obtained her stinky behavior from FP.

I scowl. Gladys takes my own wrist and flips my palm to face upward. She slams my filled out time card on top. "There. You're officially off duty. So….looks like you'll be sitting the next few hours out, sugar." She lifts her chin up at me and winks.

"I hate you." I hiss at her.

"Oh, boo hoo. You'll thank me later." Gladys cackles, walking past me and patting my shoulder. I stay back, glancing down at my time card. A smirk forms on my own face. I got to give Gladys at least this - she knows when I need to stop overworking myself into oblivion.

With that, I grab my purse and bid the team in the kitchen farewell. I pass by Gladys, resting her knuckles under her chin as she curtsies to me. I back out through the front door, giving her the middle finger and a cackle. I shrug my coat on more over me, and I finally make my way back to my car.

The drive back to the trailer park doesn't take long, I'm there within five minutes. The area seems dead today, more so than usual. Most of the time, kids from the high school sit around little bon fires outside, or they engage in a feisty game of poker. Sometimes, the older Serpents chat with neighbors, or they join the kids in the card game. Today, the only younger folks outside….well, the only folks right now, are Joaquin and JB. They're perched over the fire pit outside the Joneses' trailer, with Hot Dog at the little girl's feet. Joaquin's glaring into the fire without a word, and JB has her nose in a book. It's a rather peaceful scene, I feel bad that I'm about to come over and disrupt it. But the moment I step out of the car, the scene instead comes more to life.

JB looks up from her book and grins when she sees me. She sets her book down onto her seat, and she hustles over to me. Hot Dog remains by Joaquin and the fire pit, beginning to bark up a storm, per usual.

I walk over more to the area and meet JB halfway. The little girl coils her arms around my waist, "You gonna be here the whole rest of the afternoon?"

"You bet." I giggle, swaying the girl in my arms. I glance back over at Joaquin. Joaquin brings his eyes towards my direction. He gives me a small wave, one that I admit is rather gloomy. I wave back, perking my lips upward. "I take it you're relieved I'm taking this one off your hands?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. He stands up and says, "It just feels good to be outside. I haven't had to freak out over getting medications lined up, or wheeling anyone to group exercises. I needed the break, frankly." He reaches his arms up to the sky to stretch out. Hot Dog woofs at the movement, followed with another series of excited barks. Joaquin glances down at the dog, snapping his fingers. "Hey….cállate, dipshit. You're gonna give the whole damn trailer park a migraine with that." He looks over at JB and me and rolls his eyes. We both giggle from the exchange. Hot Dog continues to act fussy, a playful little behavior with me around….

Suddenly, my eyes wander over to my own trailer. Does Hot Dog believe that cat still resides there? Is that what's causing the anxious behavior? I have to wonder…. I fish for my trailer keys out of my coat pocket, and I hand them down to JB. "Go ahead and bring your school stuff to my trailer. I'll be up there in a moment."

"Okay." The young Jones takes the keys and runs back over to the fire pit area. Once she has everything she needs, she runs over to my residence. I wait until she's up the stairs before I go over to Joaquin and Hot Dog.

I kneel down, taking the dog's face into my hands, smoothing out his fur. "Hey….hey, look at me buddy. Salem's not around." I speak to Hot Dog in a soothing voice. I run my fingers along the under area of his ears. "He's not here anymore. You don't have to worry about him. It's okay." The coaxing notion seems to work. In a few moments, Hot Dog is able to calm down. He doesn't teeter around on his paws as much. He whimpers softly, looking at me. Then, he goes to lick my face. I giggle, muttering, "That's a good boy." I bring my gaze back up to Joaquin. His eyebrow is up to the sky. I clarify, "Sabrina had a cat. She….she called him Salem."

"That makes more sense now, okay." he grins, nodding his head. I stand back up, brushing the snow off of my knee caps. Hot Dog whimpers. Joaquin grabs for his collar, "Here, I can take him out for a walk while you're with Jellybean."

A breeze runs between us. I cross my arms over my stomach, "Oh….Joaquin, are you sure?"

"I think we could both use a walk." he shrugs. He bends down to scratch Hot Dog's head. It goes on for a little bit before Joaquin says, "Besides, it'll help to clear my head. Keep me distracted…."

He stops talking, cramming his lips shut. His eyes still hold that haunted glow from yesterday. He brings his attention to smoothing out Hot Dog's fur. I'm still caught up in what is running through that young man's head. What did he see from the massacre? Would it even be proper of me to badger Joaquin with questions this early on? I know he did yesterday, the whole trailer park stopped by the Joneses' trailer for a glimpse of this survivor. I pity him. He doesn't deserve to be thrown into a cage like a zoo animal for the press, or for the police, to probe at. He also doesn't deserve to get turned into Hal's next meal.

Joaquin returns back to a standing position, shoving his hands into the pockets of his Serpent jacket. I use this as an opportunity to ask, "How are you holding up?"

"Physically, or mentally?" he makes his response come off as a joke. I give him credit for staying light-hearted, but I don't fall for the act. He sighs, "I'm breathing, so….that's a start. But I slept terrible last night. I really didn't want to relive my last day at the Sisters in my dreams." I have to keep my mouth shut before I let this thought crawl out of my mouth - And I bet you didn't want to recall any features of the demon who killed your patient.

Will Joaquin go on trial for Rose's death? Will people believe that he orchestrated the massacre as a middle finger act to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy? I doubt it, but people have grown so hysterical nowadays. It's unpredictable how people will react to the incident. It makes me wonder….how will he live? Where will Joaquin go if the Serpents won't welcome him back home? Or if FP and Gladys, or even Toni, cannot argue on his behalf for sanctuary? Surely, there has to be something I can do to help. Even if it's just helping the poor man lie low for a little while….

That's when my eyes wander back over to my trailer. And my head starts spewing out ideas. Hey, if I have to bring Sabrina back for her trial, or if for whatever reason, I cannot return to end Hal's reign….maybe….

"Joaquin," I start, turning back to him, "have you….have you figured out where you'll be staying until you can…." I can't finish the sentence, mostly because I would rather not jump to any conclusions.

He furrows his face, bringing his shoulders up to his ears. "I'm literally just couch-surfing with the Joneses for now. And….I know Toni brought up the idea of letting me and Ricky crash with her until I can….get my name cleared. Or whatever." His shoulders come back down. A puff of air leaves his mouth, manifesting into the air.

I point back at my trailer. "Why don't you take my place?" Joaquin loses the hopeless look. He raises his brow again, and Hot Dog whimpers in equal confusion. I clarify with him, "I'll have to bring Sabrina home soon, and….and I don't know if I'll have the chance to come back here. So….you and your little brother can live here. You wouldn't have to worry about rent or utilities, I can cover that for you-"

"Alice, you really don't have to do that for me." he lifts a hand up to the air. His spirits seem to be lifting, which I can't tell if it equates to anything good.

I sigh. "Where else would you go? A motel outside of town? Out of Riverdale?"

"I have friends outside of town, in San Junipero." he states in a joking tone. I cross my arms tighter, signaling that I mean what I say. He finally catches on, "You mean it? You'd really let me stay here?"

My brain goes on autopilot mode. What do I tell Joaquin? That I'd rather him keep an eye on FP and Gladys and their kids if I no longer can? That I'd rather he be with friends than die at the hands of my demon ex-boyfriend? I glance down at the ground for a brief moment, mentally putting together how to go about detailing the thoughts in my head to Joaquin. I don't want to come off as a white savior, that's not my intention. I don't want to appear that way to Toni either. But I want these younger Serpents to know that I'm on their side. I want the same end goals they do, just by a different means.

I look back up at Joaquin, letting my arms fall to my sides. "If I could, I'd bring you with me and Sabrina. I'd take everyone here with me." I stop, inhaling and exhaling. Daisies and candles. I can't make this about me. I continue, "But I know you have family here. You have friends here. It wouldn't be right of me to separate you from that."

Joaquin scoffs. "Don't know if I've got that many friends left here, apart from Tee." He runs his fingers along the top of Hot Dog's head, almost identical to how FP did yesterday morning. The little movement stirs discomfort in my stomach. Then, I see him grin. "But I think it'd be smart for me to stick around the Southside. I got a little brother to look after. And….and Toni got talking with me about her activist group yesterday. I wanna be around to see her hit the ground running with that." The corners of my own mouth lift. It's comforting to recognize that while my future is uncertain, I can see Toni obtaining hers.

"And, not to get controversial here, but…." Joaquin adds on, "I kinda want to see what Jughead's gonna do following that article he and Sabrina wrote." The good mood I experience disappears. Okay, I have no right to take it out on Joaquin for bringing up the Reaper article. I know it's a matter that I, and the other adults, need to discuss with the kids. But the mention of it still feels like a knife plunged into my kidneys. Or like Hal burned off my tattoo all over again.

Thinking about my tattoo sends a jolt of pain down to my hip area. I wince, leaning on my good leg to bring relief to my bad one. I bring my hand down to the area over my Pop's uniform. I mentally remind myself to hold on for a little bit longer. Don't break down and perform Blue just yet.

"Did you know Rose Blossom?" Joaquin asks suddenly, throwing me off guard. I stand back up straight, feeling my bad leg grow sore. I grit my teeth and force the air out of my lungs. Just breathe through it, Alice. Returning my attention to Joaquin, I think on the question. Did I ever have a one on one conversation with the woman? Or did I only really know her through Riverdale's folklore? A passing image of red hair and a shrill voice enters my brain. So does the image of a figure taking a bite out of the redhead's neck.

"I didn't. No." I answer. "But I was acquainted with Rose's daughter. As well as said daughter's league of evil cheerleading minions." The last part produces a chuckle out of Joaquin. I proceed to slide my hands into my coat pockets, seeking warmth from the cold. "Her daughter wouldn't shut up about Rose's witch hunting days. Everyone I went to high school with could either quote her tales by heart, or they wished to purge them from their memories. I was part of the latter group." My good spirits return, I find myself giggling at my own tale along with Joaquin.

"So….yeah, I didn't really have a high opinion of the Blossoms." I pause for a second, my head still clinging to that image of Hal feasting on Penelope's corpse. I wonder if Penelope ever did feel guilty for her treatment of the student body before her death. I wonder if I could have made amends with her at all. "I used to not have a high opinion of them. Now….I'm not so sure."

"I'll admit, Rose was a bit of a tyrant living in that hospital." Joaquin tells me with a grin. "But she knew she wanted to live her life to the fullest, all the way to the end. She wanted people to see her as someone good, even if they didn't like her before. She made an effort to learn from her mistakes."

"People change over time, I guess."

"Yeah. Our perceptions of people change too. Just depends on how long it takes." I find myself nodding at Joaquin's last sentence. I can see where he's right. My own perceptions of the people I knew here in Riverdale have changed, from Hiram to Tom Keller, even to Penelope beyond the grave. And what of how others perceive me? I suspect FP views me differently now that he's aware of my witchcraft. And Sabrina….

Does Sabrina view me differently now too? Will this fight over the article….over Hal….will it change everything about us?

Hot Dog gets antsy again, throwing us both out of our thoughts. He backs up on his hind legs and whimpers. Joaquin scowls, "Alright, alright. I'll walk you around. Jeez." He looks over at me and rolls his eyes. I giggle.

Perhaps it's a good thing Hot Dog is demanding a walk. I shouldn't leave JB alone for much longer. I don't want her to believe I abandoned her. I begin to back away from Joaquin, heading towards my trailer. "I'll be in here if you need anything." Joaquin waves goodbye, going back to the Joneses' trailer I'm guessing to grab a leash for Hot Dog. I keep my eyes on my trail, watching my feet scurry up the stairs, going to my front door.

I'm greeted with the lukewarm atmosphere of my trailer. I glance around the place until I spot JB curled up on my couch, still reading her book. I peel off my coat and place it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "No homework today?"

She keeps her eyes glued in her book as she speaks to me. "I do, but I got most of it done at school. I worked on more with Joaquin before you came back from Pop's. I'm just trying to get ahead on some reading."

I make my way over to the living room area. "For your book report? Or is this free reading?"

The little girl shakes her head. "Book report. It's one of the books that wizard gave to me." I catch myself giggling at JB's nickname for Hiram. I can't see which book she has from this far away, so I inch closer for a better look. Picking up on my movements, JB stretches her arms out, holding out the cover to me. I let my jaw go to the floor once I read the title.

"Wow. Pride and Prejudice?"

"It was the only one that sounded interesting. Most of the ones he gave me sounded too babyish. The others I read before." I tilt my head at her in amazement. When I ask which ones sounded "too babyish", she says Gulliver's Travels and The Island of Dr. Moreau. I can see why she chose the Jane Austen book - her reading level seems to be more advanced, just like her brother.

I take my place next to JB on the couch. I rest my elbow on the top cushion and rotate around to face her. "Which part of the book are you at?"

"Lizzie has to go grab her older sister when she falls sick at her boyfriend's place. I'm honestly just waiting for this Darcy guy to admit his feelings for Lizzie. It was blatantly obvious in that first party scene that he wanted to ask her out." I snort laughing. I have to say, it's hysterical listening to JB recap a literary classic. She gets to the point, and she picks up on key details that do not come into light until the end. So, it's astonishing she could recognize the Darcy and Elizabeth romance from this early on.

JB tethers at one page corner with her finger. "Although, I don't get why there's all these markings on the sides, and so many highlighted passages. Also, who's Jaime Luna?" I chuckle hearing Hiram's Baptism name slip from the girl's lips. I'll leave it to him to tell JB of his rebellious period the next time he comes over to the trailer park. For now, I glance down at the copy to see these notes she's referring to. She's right - Hiram's got this book marked up with his own notes in the margins.

Something about this book brings a sense of familiarity. Looking at his handwriting and the colorful passages reintroduces images in my head, memories of pouring through schoolwork. But why? The longer I stare down at this copy of Pride and Prejudice, the more I understand why this book is singing to me.

We read this in AP Literature. Hiram was in my class when we covered Pride and Prejudice.

My train of thought gets interrupted when JB curls up next to me, letting out a big yawn. I stare down at the girl. "Did you forget to have your cup of coffee this morning?" I tease her.

She swats one hand out in front of her. "I had, like, two. But I think the weather's making me sleepy. Would you mind if I…." She can't complete her sentence due to another yawn. Normally, I'd want to make sure she completed ALL of her homework before she took a break. But I'm not her mother. Also….I want to check the contents of Hiram's copy. If this is the version of Pride and Prejudice I believe it is….

"Fine with me, hon." I shrug my shoulders and grin. JB sends a Cheshire Cat-like smile up my way, then she plops her head onto my shoulder, curling into me more. The girl is out within a minute.

Being careful to not cause JB to lose her place, I scan through the book. Surely enough, Hiram's got this book marked up with his annotations from class. Well, most of the annotations are academic, the rest are more….exploratory. More personal. Drawing connections between characters and the people in our school. Events that happened during our high school years. Connections to….me.

My name pops up next to bits of dialogue between Lizzie and Darcy, either with a comment about my own words and movements, or just my name. Was Hiram always watching me? Certainly….I mean, we read this book in between everything that happened with Hal, right after I scared Hiram and revealed my witchcraft. It was before I bonded with Hermione, then lost her. I always believed Hiram was too shy to talk to me. I believed he hated me. Waiting to stick it back in my face the moment I would show back up into town. But from how I've interacted with him in these past few weeks, and looking at all these notes….was I wrong?

Our perceptions of people change….just depends on how long it takes.

Joaquin said that to me. I interpreted his words to reflect on my relationship with Sabrina, and with the Blossoms. Shouldn't I also put it towards Hiram? Haven't my perceptions of him changed, along with our growing intimacy? I wonder….

I find myself flipping farther into the book, landing on one particular section, one crucial plot point that changed everything between Lizzie and Darcy. His initial declaration of love for her. And surely enough, Hiram has this page marked up with class notes and personal antidotes, primarily on me. But why? Why these passages in particular? I could laugh, but I don't want to wake up JB. So, I chastise myself mentally. Why wouldn't he, Alice? You two did read this scene in class together, after all.

I wasn't anticipating on getting pulled up to the class to read Lizzie's reactions to Darcy. Hiram's Darcy, to be exact. But, our AP Literature teacher, Mister Featherhead, had an odd way of making his students participate. He figured by having us read out scenes in class, it could help us better analyze the works. Therefore, we'd all perform better on the AP exam. Surely it mattered to Featherhead more than anyone at that school. Too bad I didn't stick around to learn how I would perform.

On the day we covered Darcy's love declaration for Lizzie, I kept my head low and purposefully sat in my seat hoping not to get singled out. I had just started distancing myself from Hal after the tattoo burning incident. And as lonely as I felt, I didn't want to find myself cozying up to FP. I didn't want to ruin our friendship by insinuating any form of romantic or sexual relationship, and frankly….I didn't want FP to become Hal's newest victim. So, I kept a low profile and focused primarily on my schoolwork. I figured I could take my academics seriously so I could propel myself as far away from Riverdale as possible. I would eventually….just not by academic help.

Class that day felt roudier than usual. We were all on pins and needles just waiting to have Thanksgiving Break come already. We weren't going to fully pay attention to our professors, despite the amount of testing needed for APs, and the focus needed on college applications. But Featherhead was one determined man who knew how to demand a room full of hormonal, raging teenagers.

"Alright, settle down." he commanded the class, "We have a lot to get through today, so let's get to it. We'll start by covering the declaration scene." The guys in our class grumbled, the girls swooned. Penelope was in the class, so of course she would find pleasure in this scene. As would Hermione, Sierra, Mary, and any other girl. Me, not so much.

Featherhead gave us a quick synopsis of the scene, breaking down some of the key components and their meanings. Then, he got into the element he was known for. "Can I have some volunteers to read out the dialogue between Elizabeth and Mister Darcy?"

A few of us, like me, stayed quiet. The rest of the class broke out into hushed whispers. But nevertheless, we were all curious to see who would reenact the lovers of this tale. Eventually, one person stood up, raising his hand.

"I'll read for Darcy, I guess." Hiram announced. The few Bulldogs in our class groaned. The girls giggled, especially Penelope. I rolled my eyes, and from the corner of my rolled eyes, so did Hermione. That brought some comfort to me, but I would never admit that out loud.

Featherhead welcomed him up, "Thank you, Mister Lodge." He waited for Hiram to come up to the front of the class before he proceeded. "Now, ladies, which one of you would like to read for Elizabeth?" A handful of girls raised their hands proudly. Penelope even rose out of her seat. Featherhead tisked, "How about someone we HAVEN'T heard from yet?" A few of the girls lowered their hands. Surely, I thought he would pick Mary - she only spoke up a few times, but she mostly kept to herself. Maybe he would pick Sierra - she could embrace Lizzie's fiery personality. Plus, I would have found it quite amusing to witness Sierra bash down Hiram.

But Featherhead didn't have his sights on Mary, or Sierra.

"How about you, Miss Smith?" he turned directly to me. I could feel the whole class turn directly to me. Angry whispers, giggles, and banging on desks filled the room. I wanted to hex the whole class, or send each of them home with snakes and spiders in their clothes. More than anything, I wanted to curl up into my Serpent jacket and hide. But then I remembered I stopped wearing that jacket. I hadn't in a while.

I made direct eye contact with Hiram. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, I swear his tan skin began to turn white. Borderline green. He was just as nervous as I was. But there was no way either one of us could get out of this one. And frankly, I was better off facing the humiliation of a Featherhead class than the idea of crawling back into Hal's arms.

With an elongated sigh, I slid out of my desk and grabbed my book. "Let's get this over with." I spat out, earning me fits of laughter from the guys in class. I sent a cold stare to Penelope as I passed by her desk, pretending I sent a blood churning hex in her direction. It gave me a little bit of a confident boost as I joined Hiram at the front of the classroom.

"Now, do you two know where to start?" Featherhead guided us to where he wanted us to begin reading. Hiram confirmed his place, moving to another side of the chalkboard. I looked back at Featherhead, giving him an unenthusiastic thumbs-up. "Alright, Mister Lodge, we'll begin with you on Mister Darcy's entrance. Whenever you're ready."

So, Hiram began. He acted out Darcy coming into Lizzie's corridors on her trip to see Charlotte, he almost nailed it dead on. I had no issue slipping into Lizzie's mind as I read out her dialogue. In a way, I could relate to Lizzie - black sheep of a family, expectations for love and womanhood left and right. Really, the only difference between Lizzie and I was that Lizzie didn't have a familiar that liked to kill her peers and gaslight her. I mean, you could compare George Wickham to Hal. They both twisted lies to get the women they wanted. Thinking about Hal and Wickham together made my stomach create knots. I shoved the thought out of my head as I allowed Lizzie's words to leave my mouth.

Soon enough, we came to the dialogue where Darcy pronounces his love for Lizzie. Hiram took two deep breaths in between the words. His hands shook, making the book shake as a result. Then, with a broken voice, he began. "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must…." he paused, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He struggled to keep going, "You must….you…."

"You must allow me to tell you how-"

"I know what it says, Mister Featherhead." Hiram snapped at our teacher. The class broke out into oohs and ahhs, cackling in pure delight. Featherhead barked for the class to quiet down, then he allowed Hiram to continue. But Hiram still needed more time. Sweat appeared across his forehead. His teeth chattered in the cold classroom. He looked straight into my eyes, and in that moment, something about him appeared different. It was the first time I didn't see the arrogant, self-reserved prick from Manhattan. He came off as timid. Walking on eggshells before me. He adapted his appearance the night Hal and I scared him. Only this time, he looked love struck.

In Darcy's words, he said, "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

At first, I wanted to smack some sense back into him. What happened to the Hiram Lodge I knew? I didn't understand what led him to take on Darcy's words so much intensity, like he related to Darcy and his situation. But I didn't want to break down Hiram's acting skills and analyze them for meaning. I wanted to get this scene over and done with. So, I went on with Lizzie's dialogue, and Hiram with Darcy's. The more we read on, the more that little voice in the back of my head begged me to stop. The voice wanted me to examine Hiram carefully. To look for meaning in those soft, timid eyes, those quivering lips. Either he was that good of a performer, or he really was growing scared of me. He should have been scared of me! I was Acid Queen Alice - the witch bitch who left him running with his tail between his legs. But what could he have said to our classmates about me? Did he make them believe they were Ichabod Crane, and I the Headless Horseman? Penelope would get a delight out of that, for sure. The thought felt like poison to my brain. Fire to my lungs. The more I thought about why Hiram looked so apologetic, the more I didn't want to know.

In that moment, I hated him. I wanted him gone. I wished I had taken Hal's advice and killed him when I had my chance.

In Hiram's fashion, I took Lizzie's final words personally, as if they were my own. "From the very beginning— from the first moment, I may almost say— of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit,…." My tongue turned into a dagger. My feet marched forward, step by step, forcing Hiram to stumble backwards towards the chalkboard. I glared up at him with fire in my eyes. My voice grew, "...and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike…." His back ended up against the chalkboard. His heart pounded out of his chest. By that point, my rage was beyond controllable. I had enough of his presence, his potential need to apologize to me. I hated him the way Lizzie abhorred Darcy.

As if I was screaming, I jabbed the last of her words into Hiram, "...and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

There was a stillness in the classroom. Not one person made a comment, or a whisper. No one even coughed. My ears rang. Tears stung my eyes. Recognizing what I've gotten myself into, I backed away, allowing Hiram some space. My eyes fell to the floor, staring down at my Doc Martens.

Featherhead addressed us, "That'll be all, Miss Smith. We'll leave it there." I turned to Featherhead in pure anger. Noise finally emerged from the class. Well, one person in particular. Penelope held a hand over her mouth to contain her laughter. Hermione looked about ready to smack her in the arm, or in the face. The rest of the class watched me like children approaching a zoo animal in its cage. They wanted to know my next move. How would Acid Queen Alice use her claws and slash up Hiram? Who would she and that creep of a boyfriend of hers go after next?

Poison coated my tongue. It glued my mouth shut. It made my eyes water. I wouldn't dare to break down in front of my classmates, but I certainly wouldn't give them the show they wanted either. Instead, I bolted out of the classroom, shoving Hiram aside on my way out.

I couldn't make it to the girls' bathroom in time before sobs left my throat. I tossed my copy of Pride and Prejudice at the little window above and marched into a nearby stall. Tears ran down my cheeks, my palms went to my eye sockets. I collapsed onto the toilet lid, resting my elbows on my knees. My sobs echoed along the bathroom walls. Why did I do this to myself? Why couldn't I have dropped out or run away when I had every chance? Why did I listen to Hal? I felt so confused. I wanted to figure it out on my own, alone….but I didn't want to be lonely.

I slammed a fist against the bathroom stall. "GODDAMNIT!" The sobbing worsened. I fell into a fetal position, slipping off to land between the bathroom stall and the toilet. Loneliness overcame me. Depression, fear, and anger were my new best friends. Guilt was my true love.

I must have stayed down there for some time, because when I came back to some form of consciousness, the school bell rang. Great, I missed the rest of class. Not that I cared anyway. I lifted my head, swiping away at my wet cheeks with the sleeve of my flannel. More girls would come in soon, and I didn't feel like scaring away anyone. But I couldn't make myself get up from the floor. My thigh still ached me from when Hal touched it. I hated to admit that I needed help.

That was when the bathroom door opened, accompanied with a voice. "Alice? Are you in here?" My eyes wandered out of the bathroom stall to seek out the face belonging to the voice. Hermione? I went to go move up and out, but all it did was bring me pain. I groaned, bringing my hand to my thigh. Hermione found me eventually. She rushed over, "Here, let me help you." I wanted to swat her away, to tell her to leave me alone. But she already had her hands under my armpits, lifting me out of my space. With her guidance, I hobbled out of the bathroom stall. I muttered a thank you, and it felt like vile. Hermione noticed my state, growing concerned. "What happened to your leg?"

"Don't worry about it." I shrugged it off, hobbling closer to the sink. "What do you want, Gomez?"

I bit off a little bit harder than I should have at her. Looking back at it, I should have apologized, but I was in every right to be pissed off at the planet. Hermione gestured down to the floor with a smirk. Then, I brought my sights down to what she brought into the bathroom with her.

"You left your bookbag in class. I….I wanted to make sure you didn't lose it." My mouth formed an O shape. I should have apologized then. But I was also beginning to grow suspicious. What was Hermione Gomez doing being so nice to me all the sudden? What did she want?

She crossed her arms over her ribs. Her shoulders went up to her ears. A grin appeared on her face. "Also….I thought you did a nice job reading that scene with Hiram. You really brought Lizzie to life back there. You think you could give me some pointers on…."

I faced her, confusion growing in my own expression. "On what?"

"I'm gonna be in the school musical, Pippin. As Catherine. It's the first time I've been in a major role since I started doing these things. Normally, I would consult Penelope or anyone else on the cheer team, but…." Her voice trailed off. At the time, I didn't get why Hermione wouldn't go to Penelope, or Fred. But that was before I realized her relationship with Fred was over, and that she and Penelope were at war with one another.

I didn't know what to make of her offer. Why did she want me to help her out with the musical? I was never a theater kid. I could sing, but I only ever sang along to Fleetwood Mac songs or screamed my head off to Nirvana. I had no expertise on anything Broadway related! But from how Hermione was talking with me, and how….nervous she appeared, some gut feeling told me she just needed escape. She needed to be around new people.

And I needed time away from Hal.

"Alright, Gomez. How much time do you need to get ready for this stupid thing?"

From that point up until the crash, Hermione and I spent most of our free time preparing for her role in the musical. She came to find her independence outside of Fred and the other Vixens. I still remained tight with FP, and I felt more of my witchcraft coming together. That didn't stop Hal from glaring at me from ends of the hallway or the trailer park, but it did provide me with some distance. For once, I felt free of Hal. I didn't have to worry about him. I didn't have to worry about Darryl Doiley and the other dead kids, And most of all, I didn't have to worry about Hiram, or anything related to Pride and Prejudice….

Not until now. Looking down at this book, I realize how much I misjudged Hiram back then. How much I misjudged everyone I knew due to my circumstances. But maybe I needed that time to come and understand that. Maybe coming back to Riverdale has been beneficial for me.

Granted, I still have more to uncover about my relationship with Hiram. I still can't quite piece together why he feels so devoted to me. I almost killed him. I keep whining and crying to him at my weakest points when I can't get it out to Sabrina. And yet he's still there. And perhaps he always was. I just didn't pick up on it then.

I take one last glance down at the book, my eyes going to Darcy's infamous words. I wonder how Hiram really felt that day when I lashed out at him acting as Lizzie. My thumb goes to the bit of dialogue, tracing out the letters inked by Hiram's hand. Off to the side, there's a small letter I can't make out. I glare at it. Is it a letter at all? I don't know, but I can make out my name under it. And the way this copy of Pride and Prejudice is printed, it almost makes Hiram's notes appear like the words are directed to me.

You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you, Alice.

I shut the book and set it down on the coffee table. I shiver at a breeze running through the trailer. I wonder how JB isn't freezing laying here on this couch. I should get her a blanket, and maybe I need a sweater. Being careful not to wake her up, I rest JB's head against a nearby pillow, planting a kiss onto her temple. Then, after wrapping my arms around myself, I head into the bedroom.

My mind wanders while in transit. How is Joseph Conway not freezing in his bunker out in the woods? Should I go and see him? Looking out the window over the kitchen table, I notice how quickly the sun is beginning to set. Surely, he could use the company. But we ended our conversation on quite the odd note. How can he protect himself from Hal out in this weather? How could anyone? I get thinking about Joaquin and his little brother, Ricky. I think about Toni and the Uktena. If the Southside along with the rest of Riverdale were to perish under Hal's reign, where would they go? I could offer up the yard space outside the Spellman's home, but I can't guarantee how willing Zelda and Hilda would be to welcome strangers onto their property.

Joseph's bunker could provide temporary sanctuary. Is it worth the risk, though? Would Joseph be willing to come out of the shadows to save what could be the last of the Serpents? I should find him the next time I have time to spare. I probably could this afternoon before I go back to Pop's. But right now, I need to do my duties as a babysitter and take good care of JB.

When I enter the bedroom, I grab the first sweater I can find in my drawers. I should organize the clothes in this stupid thing, but first, I need to get that blanket to JB. I come over to the bed and yank the blanket off. Sunlight peaks into the room from the little window. It's so bright, I have to bring my hand by my eyes to block off the glare. It makes the grey-white walls gleam, the ceramic lamp twinkle, the sigil carved onto my bed frame glow-

My hands lower onto the bed, still clinging onto the blanket. I lean closer, examining Hiram's artistic skills. I almost forgot this was over my bed. I take some time to study its curves, the dashes. Why do I feel like I just saw this? I mean, where else could I have….

It hits me like a punch to the gut. Or to the heart.

THE SIGIL OVER MY BED IS THE EXACT SAME SYMBOL IN HIRAM'S BOOK.

Dropping the blanket back onto the bed, I rush back out into the living. I swipe the book off the coffee table, frantically flipping through the pages to find the sigil. I almost run into the door frame when I hurry back over to my dresser. I pull open drawer after drawer, looking for any kind of pen and paper to scribble notes on. Not finding much, I go back out to the kitchen and reach into my purse. I find a pen from Pop's and a receipt from a couple days ago. I hustle back into the bedroom, plop down at the bed with the book open next to me, and get to work. I redraw the symbol, checking the bed frame for reference. From what I've learned about sigils, each one has their own meaning. I carved out sigils onto my pastries back at my shop, wishing patrons luck and fortune in their days. I also made plenty with Sabrina when she first learned how to draw them. It was like our own little language, our way of sending each other good vibes. Why did Hiram choose this sigil to associate with me? And what does it mean? There has to be a reason he penned it down next to Darcy's love declaration.

I try to connect the dashes and curves to particular consonants. I can only make out a W, maybe an H and a T. Other than that, I have nothing. I start from scratch, going through all my possibilities. Still no luck. Was this sigil meant to be uncoded, Hiram? Were you anticipating on me finding out the meaning of your sigil? Because I do want to know how your mind works. I do want to discover what goes on in your mind. I want to know you. The real you.

"Ali?" a sleepy voice mumbles from the doorway. I'm too invested in my uncoding to see JB enter the bedroom. "Ali, what are you doing-"

"SHH!" I lift a finger up to her. I can hear her little feet shuffle over to where I sit. I rise up, my anxiety causing my ticks to manifest. I make another attempt to uncover the sigil's meaning, but it's no use. I let my hands fall to my sides, the book and receipt in one hand, the pen in another. I look down at JB in despair. "I….I can't…."

JB takes the book and receipt out of my hand. "Here, let me." She examines the contents for a good while. She tilts her head to the side in confusion. "What is this, Ali?"

I turn to my bed frame, gesturing to Hiram's sigil. "He….he left me that symbol over my bed. And….and it's in that book too! They match! But I….I can't figure out what the hell it means!" My fingernails go to my skull. I collapse onto the bed feeling absolutely helpless. How can I not figure this out? Have all my years of studying witchcraft led up to nothing? Okay, I'm acting like a baby here, but me staying as long as I have in Riverdale has made me realize how weak my witchcraft has become. How much I've come to rely on others.

My eyes wander up to the girl, still peering down at the book. She glances back over at my bed frame, then back down. "I mean," I say to her, "unless you can figure it out, honey. I don't get why he wrote it in there, or why he carved it onto my bed frame." My hand gestures back over to the sigil behind me. My brain's spinning off in 20 directions. The sigil could mean anything! For all I know, Hiram could secretly be cursing me! I wind up rambling, "I don't think he put that book into your pile on accident. Or maybe he did! I could just be looking way too much into this. He wrote all that stuff back when we were teenagers, so it probably means nothing now. Maybe I am getting paranoid, Jellybean! Or I am just a bad witch! I can't decipher this sigil without an index or a number box-"

"Mister Lodge has an index right here." her voice stops my rambling. I lift my head up just as JB hands the book to me. "It's at the back of the book."

I yank it out of her hands, rising up from the bed. Surely enough, there's an index of every single sigil Hiram placed into his copy of Pride and Prejudice, right on the last blank page. I'm over the moon! How did JB have the mindset to come across this? More enough, did she find the one I'm looking for?

"JB, how did you…."

"Well, I thought about finding an index, and…." the littlest Jones shrugs her shoulders and gestures to the object in my hands. "Next thing I know, my fingers go through the pages, landing on it. Like it wanted us to find it."

My heart flutters. I could squeal in pure excitement. Instead, I plop a kiss onto JB's temple, saying, "JB, you little genius! You're a lifesaver!" I leave the girl giggling as I wander over closer to the window. I need to get a better light in order to read Hiram's handwriting. I could just use some magic to turn on my bedside lamp but I'm already by the window. And I'm already dead set on finding out what that sigil means. I go down the list one by one - The first he has labeled as "I read without distraction", the next being "I finish my analysis with ease". Finally, I come to the sigil sitting over my bed and on that page.

Everything goes still. My mouth hangs open. My thumb pierces into the paper, underneath the sigil, and what it translates to.

My love is with you.

The book slips out of my hands, crashing onto the floor. My heartbeat pounds into my eardrums. The room gets blurry and spins, I have to turn around and slide down the wall to keep myself steady. Tears form in my eye sockets. The pieces in my brain finally come together.

He sought me out for a reason. He welcomed me into his home, his world for a reason. He got down on one knee out in that kitchen, he followed me through the woods, and he allowed me to heal him for a reason. And it has nothing to do with the Church of Night, or with his daughter, or with Sabrina.

It has everything to do with me.

"Aunt Ali?" JB kneels down in front of me. I break down sobbing, not able to hold my emotions back any longer. My knees cradle into my chest, my hands shake. JB latches herself next to me, making a valiant effort to calm me down. "Ali, what is it? What did he say?" My eyes wander back down to the book, to those words he penned into the page all those years ago. To the sigil over my bed, still holding the emotions he felt from high school, all the way to now.

Finally, I turn to JB. The corners of my mouth lift. The answer is clear in my head.

"He loves me. Hiram Lodge is in love with me."

XXXXXXXX

End of Chapter