Chapter 13

Sam sat on the sofa in the Fenton's living room. The couch was about twenty years old and completely worn down, and there were patches sewn on a few of the cushions, some of them in the shapes of little ghosts that she suspected were done by Danny's dad. Her parents would find it garish. Appalling.

Sam loved it.

Her life with her family was stifling, a constant push to be someone and something she wasn't, and she found it exhausting. Going over to Tucker or Danny's house felt energizing. Their families, their homes all felt lived in and loved and like real people existed there, not just mannequins making sure they created the perfect, picturesque shot for some politician or business partner or reporter.

When their relationship with Danny fractured, she found she missed coming here, being a part of this and his home and his family, almost as much as her actual friendship with Danny. It felt selfish and uncomfortable, a shameful thing to admit somehow, so she pushed the feeling down. And when they finally figured it out and saved him from Phantom two weeks ago? When she was invited back here, got her friend back and found herself coming over almost daily again to play Doomed?

Well, it made her want to overlook the obvious. Despite the jokes, the texts, video games, and movie nights, Danny was still not okay. Something was still very wrong with him, something that probably went deeper than some trauma post-possession. The person who sat next to her, grinning as she triumphantly took out another enemy and gave her a quick high five, was still broken, and nothing made that clearer than when he fought back against Dash. She and Tucker both didn't know Danny even could fight, and while she felt no sympathy for Dash, she saw how messed up it left Danny afterward. He ghosted them for a few days, finally sending a message late Saturday night after missing their scheduled time to play Doomed on Friday with a quick request to talk to them.

And so she and Tucker and Valerie found themselves sitting with Danny in his living room as he brought everything crashing down around them and finally told them the truth. Sam was struggling to believe it. The signs had all been so obvious that it was hard to believe he was this liminal thing and not possessed by Phantom.

"You weren't possessed?"

"No." He spoke softly, but with an intense finality that brooked no argument. "Ask my parents - they can confirm it."

"But Desiree gave us Phantom's name."

"She lied. Kind of," he said, rubbing the scar on his palm with his thumb, refusing to look at any of them while he spoke. "I figured out what you were thinking and what you were planning. Jazz isn't nearly as sneaky as she thinks." He gave a small smile, but it faded quickly. "As soon as I found out, I convinced Desiree to go along with it, and we had Phantom overshadow me while you were doing the stuff in the basement so she could technically grant your wish or whatever."

"Phantom made it sound like he was the one that dated me," said Val. "When we had him in the circle."

"He was committed to helping me, and he knows me really well and just . . . He kind of owed me, big time, for helping him," said Danny, and he sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Look. I'm sorry I lied to all of you. Again. I just–I hoped, I guess, that somehow this would fix everything. That I could try to get back to normal or whatever. And I can't. It'll never happen because I'm not normal."

"I like not normal, remember?" said Sam. "And if you're this liminal thing or whatever, that's okay. I don't get why you wouldn't tell us."

"I was scared." His eyes were locked on the floor as he picked at a loose thread on the couch. "The lunch lady was the first real ghost I met. She . . . she was nice to me. Kind. And then an hour later, she attacked you because you changed the menu. And that was my fault, Sam. I'm the one who told her. I didn't realize–I didn't know she would try to hurt you, but it doesn't make it okay."

Sam stared, not sure what to say. She never knew who told the Lunch Lady that she was the one who requested the school test out a vegan menu for a week. She never even really thought about it, figuring it didn't matter. "She would have worked it out somehow. I don't blame you," said Sam, and she genuinely meant it. "You didn't even believe in ghosts before that."

"I . . . thanks, Sam, but if we're trying to go full disclosure here, then I still feel pretty lousy about it," he said, shaking his head. "And I didn't want it to happen again, so when I realized that the ghosts were friendlier with me than other people, I thought that maybe I could try to change things. Try to talk to them, help them work through whatever their obsession was in a way that meant nobody had to get hurt. But I was scared you'd hate me, Sam, because I know she tried to hurt you, and now I was trying to talk to her and the others like her, and I just . . . I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad you tried to look for a peaceful solution, Danny," she said, a bit surprised that he would assume the worst. "I'm all for pacifism, and I get that you thought you could find a way. And I'd rather never be in a ghost attack again, so if baking cookies or whatever with her means she stops, then so be it. Just don't ask me to do it."

"How'd you figure it out?" asked Tucker. "That you were a liminal?"

"Some of the stuff I picked up on right away. We live over the portal, so it didn't take me long to realize the weird chills I was getting were from sensing ghosts. But the other stuff took longer, and there's still stuff I don't know," he said. "Like the death echo. I had no idea that would happen, and it freaked me out as badly as it scared you. And Phantom was the first ghost I met that raised the possibility of what I actually was, and why the ghosts liked me and why I felt so . . . half out of step with everything. It's hard to explain it, like . . ." He stared at his hand again, rubbing his palm with his thumb. What they once thought was a scar but was apparently some kind of death mark, some symbol of how he crossed partially over a threshold and impossibly survived.

"There are things I just know now, intuitively. I know that ghosts recognize their death days instead of birthdays. I know that during a few days in December, they've got a strict truce and non-violence pact, and I know those that violate it are heavily condemned by the others. They even have a different language they can speak, and I know it, somehow, without ever taking a lesson in it." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, and Sam could see that he was trembling slightly. Even now, he was still scared of how they'd react, and it hurt that he thought that she and Tucker couldn't accept this. Valerie made sense - her hatred of ghosts was legendary - but them? They were supposed to be his best friends, and it stung more than she wanted to admit that Danny never trusted them enough to be himself, though whether it was because of the lies or because she felt like it meant she failed him as a friend, somehow, she didn't know.

"Honestly, if I hadn't been going to the doctors and had them confirm my heart was still beating and I was still breathing and still, well, alive, then I would've started to think I was a ghost. I don't know how to explain just how much all of this scares me, okay? I don't know how it wouldn't scare anyone else. So I didn't tell anyone. Not you, not my parents, not Jazz," he said, glancing up at Valerie. "And when I realized that I messed up, that you'd seen something that wasn't, that couldn't be explained by anything but something ghostly, I panicked. And Phantom, well, I've been helping him for a while. There are a lot of ghosts that even I can't convince to be friendly. He was interested in stopping them. Since I could sense the ghosts and because they had a tendency to be drawn to wherever I was because of what I am, it just seemed to make sense that we work together. I used the thermos and carried him around in it most of the time, and when a ghost showed up, I let him out to fight it. It's why I miss so many classes."

"It's how he disappears from my tracker, isn't it?" said Val, and he nodded.

"Yeah, although sometimes I had to let him overshadow me for a minute to get away if I couldn't get him in the thermos fast enough or without someone noticing. It's not like a normal overshadowing. He's just kind of there, I guess? But he can't control me, or at least, he's never tried to," he said, and then he glanced at the kitchen uneasily. "My, um, parents don't know about this part yet, to be honest. I don't think they'd react super well if they knew I was putting myself in danger during the ghost attacks, and I think knowing I'm doing it to help Phantom fight the ghosts would make that even worse. But his obsession is connected to keeping people safe, and because I've helped him so much, he was willing to go pretty far to keep my secret a secret. He tried to convince me to tell you all the truth, saying this probably wouldn't work for long, actually, and I . . . I should've listened. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. And I get if you don't want to be around me anymore, whether it's because of the ghost stuff or just because I know I've been a pretty lousy friend."

"You've definitely been a lousy friend, but I feel like if we ditched you now then you'd just use that to justify all the secret keeping you've been doing," said Tucker. "So we're not, like, great right now, but I'm not going to abandon you just yet. We've been friends for years, man. And Sam sucks at co-op in Doomed. Val doesn't even play."

"Who the hell has time for video games?" she groused. "I've got two part-time jobs and school. But I'm with Tucker, Danny. This stuff . . . I'm worried about you. And I know what an idealist you are when it comes to the ghosts, and I don't want to see you get hurt because of it. I don't know that what you're doing right now is smart, but I'll at least be there to watch your back if you keep insisting on doing it."

"Sam?"

"It hurts that you couldn't trust us, Danny," she said. She wasn't going to mince words or pretend everything was fine now. "And I'm worried that there's something you're still not telling us or that maybe you're not even telling us the truth now, because you've just lied so much at this point and you already admitted to keeping even more stuff from your parents." She could see Tucker out of the corner of his eye shaking his head just a fraction, trying to push her not to say it, but she would. She wouldn't lie to her friends, not about something this important. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again, and that's kind of a bad thing for maintaining a friendship."

He swallowed, looking down at his hand, and she could see him digging his nail sharply into his palm. "There are a few things I'm not telling you yet," he admitted. "And I get if it's too much, Sam. I won't blame you if you don't–I don't want to hurt you again, but I can't promise that won't happen."

"That might be the most honest thing you've said to me in almost two years, Danny," she sighed, knowing she would probably regret what she was about to say next. "Which doesn't mean I trust you. But I'm willing to give this a chance, mostly because I'm pretty sure Tucker wouldn't forgive me if I didn't."

"Thanks, Sam. I'll try to make sure you don't regret it," he said, almost reading her mind, and she shivered.

"So are you going to start working with Phantom again?" asked Val. Sam had been wondering about it, too, now that the ghost's name was effectively in the clear, but no one had seen him for a couple of weeks.

"If he comes back? Probably," said Danny. "I don't know if he will. We kind of thought the fake-possession cover would last longer and I think he's hiding out in the Ghost Zone."

"If it wasn't for your parents, it probably would have," said Sam. "Kind of impressed they figured it out."

"I'm impressed they were paying so much attention," said Danny. "And honestly? I'm kind of glad, too. Sometimes they get so focused on their work that it feels like they don't notice much. But they don't know the extent of the stuff with Phantom, just that he's one of the ghosts I talk to. They've offered him a truce, for now at least."

"And I bet you're expecting the same thing from me, huh?" Val twirled one of her curls around her finger. "It's fine, Danny. I won't shoot first, but that's all that I'll promise you."

"I'll let him know."

"So do you, like, get any other cool ghost powers?" asked Tucker. "Can you walk through walls, disappear, fly?"

Danny rolled his eyes as he scowled. "I'm not an actual ghost, Tucker."

"Yeah, but you're kind of like a half-ghost or something, right? The whole one foot in both worlds thing?"

"I mean, the ghosts say it that way, but it's definitely not that clear cut," said Danny. "Some liminals can't do more than sense nearby ghosts. Some of them can do stuff as crazy as open portals, which isn't something I've ever managed to do. There doesn't really seem to be a logic behind who gets what skills. And I don't know how much the ghost culture knowledge gets . . . downloaded? Jeez, that makes it sound like the Matrix or something, but I don't know how else to describe it."

"We could try to help you find another liminal, Danny, if you think there's a chance one might be out there somewhere," offered Sam. "I've got a lot of ties to occult circles, and I bet someone that can sense or talk to ghosts outside of Amity Park would be pretty well-known." There were lots of supposed mediums in the world, though, and a lot of the ones she encountered so far were obvious fakes, their only skill being brilliant cold reads. She doubted all of them had death marks as clear as Danny's own, if at all, and even his could still easily be mistaken for a regular scar.

"That'd be cool," he said. "My parents think they might have a colleague who could introduce us to a few others that are out there, too, so I might get a chance to meet someone else that gets the whole freaky not-quite-dead thing even if you can't find someone."

"Can you say something in the dead language?" asked Tucker, and Sam rolled her eyes. "What? He's got at least one or two superpowers, apparently. I just want to see him do something."

"The death echo wasn't creepy enough?" said Sam, and Tucker shuddered. That moment haunted her dreams for weeks. She wasn't eager for a repeat experience.

"This is just like words. It shouldn't be that bad, right?" said Tucker, looking over at Danny. "Right?"

"Uh, no, it's kind of awful sounding," he sighed, but then he spoke . . . something. It sounded not so much like words as crackling, awful static and echoes looping endlessly down a tunnel. It was a sound that should have been impossible for a human to make, and goosebumps appeared on her arms and legs as she winced.

"Jeez, Danny, don't ever do that again!" hissed Valerie, hands over her ears, and Tucker looked pale. "What the hell did you say?!"

"My name."

"How did you even say it?!" asked Tucker. "Those sounds, dude . . . ugh."

"Sorry," he apologized, fidgeting in his chair as he glanced at the kitchen. His parents were in the lab, his sister was upstairs studying. They all agreed to give him space while he spoke to them. "And I don't know how I say it, I just kind of do it."

"Your folks know about that little trick?" asked Sam.

"No. I think they'd ask me to try to teach them, even though I don't think it's possible and it's probably a waste of time since most of the ghosts in Amity Park don't use it when they're here. Ghost speech is . . . it's kind of like openly revealing a piece of yourself that you might not want anyone to see. There's a kind of weight to it that regular human speech doesn't have, a kind of . . . promise or sort of inherent truth to it, I guess?" he said, staring off, and he shook his head. "Sorry. I realize that probably doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Honestly, I'm glad. I don't think I need anything that would make the ghost attacks even creepier than they already are," said Sam, and suddenly he shivered and his breath fogged in front of him.

"Ghost?" said Tucker. They both recognized it as Danny's ghost sense after seeing it so much in class, although she was surprised he didn't cough. Then again, maybe that was just a cover for his breath fogging in front of him, and it made Sam wonder how many other little things he did to hide the truth from them and everyone else in his life.

"Yeah. I should go check it out," he said as he jumped to his feet. "Are you all okay staying here for a minute?"

"Nope," said Val at the same time that Sam gave an emphatic,"Yes."

"Right. Um, Tucker and Sam, feel free to stay back. Val . . just, like, don't shoot anything right away, okay?" he said, and Sam could hear her arguing with him as they went through the kitchen and out the back door.

"You okay?" asked Tucker once they were gone.

"Yeah, it's just kind of a lot to take in. And I guess I'm worried that Danny's going to go back to missing classes and not seeing us anymore. That we're just going to fall apart, still, because this ghost stuff is more important to him," she said. It felt intensely selfish to say the words out loud, knowing what he was doing now to try and keep them safe despite how much his weird liminal status clearly terrified him.

"It figures, doesn't it? That he gets frustrated that his parents care more about the ghosts than him and Jazz sometimes and now he's doing the exact same thing to us?" Sam hadn't quite thought about it that way, but Tucker wasn't exactly wrong, either. "I mean, I get it, I guess. It's kind of hard to ignore something that's a part of you, and it sounds like the ghosts would find Danny even if he tried to avoid them. But it still sucks to think that even though we know what's been going on with Danny there still isn't anything we can really do. Like, at least Val can help hunt ghosts."

"Yeah, I guess they can start dating again or whatever," she muttered. She wasn't jealous. There was a time she would have been, but Danny had broken her trust so much since freshman year that it was hard to muster up the feelings she once had for him.

"I don't think they will," said Tucker. "They've still got too much stuff to work out, and much as Val says she doesn't care about this ghost stuff going on with Danny, I can tell she's kind of freaked out, too. She's just better at hiding it."

"You're probably right," she said as she glanced at the kitchen door. "Wonder what ghost it is."

"You want to check it out?"

"I really don't want to get hurt," said Sam, which wasn't a no, not exactly. She wanted to help, too, but she didn't know what she or Tucker could possibly do. Neither of them had a super high tech suit like Valerie or weird powers like Danny. "But I'm worried about him, Tucker. I feel like he's in over his head and that this stuff is going to get him seriously hurt or killed."

"Then maybe I should go get his parents. They're in the lab, right?" he asked, and Sam nodded as he stood up and hurried into the kitchen and down the basement stairs. She sat on the couch alone for a moment, her finger running across one of the patchwork ghosts sewn into it, and then sighed as she jumped to her feet and went to look out the back window.

Right now, at least, things looked like they were under control. Danny was talking to Ember, who while clearly angry, at least wasn't attacking. Val stood nearby, arms crossed as she watched the two of them. After a minute Danny turned to Val, asking her something (maybe about a thermos? Sam wasn't exactly a super talented lip reader) and then Val stormed inside. "Everything okay?"

"No. That idiot wants to give her the thermos with Skulker and Desiree," she said as she slammed the door behind her. "Did we ever take it out of the basement with us?"

"I don't think so," said Sam as she followed Valerie to the lab door just as the Fentons and Tucker were coming up.

"Sam?" said Mr. Fenton.

"We need the thermos with Skulker and Desiree in it," she said. "It should still be down there from a couple of weeks ago unless one of you emptied it."

"Why?" asked Mrs. Fenton.

"Skulker's apparently Ember's boyfriend or whatever. She misses him, and Danny says we should turn him over," grumbled Valerie. Right. Skulker had said as much while talking to Desiree, hadn't he? Sam barely gave it any thought at the time, too focused on trying to help Danny. "I'd prefer to just stuff Ember in a thermos, too, after everything she's done, but I promised I'd let him take the lead on this one."

The Fentons glanced at each other uneasily, clearly not in favor of their son's decision, either. Honestly, Sam didn't understand why Danny or Phantom would ever let a ghost out of the thermos once they caught it. They were dangerous. They didn't deserve their freedom as long as all they did was use it to hurt people. But then again, people used the same justification to keep lots of ordinary people locked up, put away for life, even for seemingly minor things . . . What the ghosts weren't doing was minor, necessarily but if Danny was right that they were able to be rehabilitated in some way, then locking them up in a tiny little cage for the remainder of their afterlife probably wasn't okay, either.

Maybe. Ugh.

She hated questioning her ethics like this. Normally she felt so sure, so confident, but this whole mess left her spinning in circles, unable to be certain about what was right or wrong. No wonder Danny wondered whether or not she'd be okay with what he was doing with the ghosts.

Mrs. Fenton ran back down into the lab with Val while Danny's Dad stayed in the kitchen, watching Danny and Ember uneasily through the window. Sam could hear her yelling something about the thermos and being trapped, but Danny's voice was inaudible. She could see him holding out his hands, his body language the sort a person would use when talking to a scared, angry dog.

"I really want to go out there," said Jack, "but I'm worried I'll make things worse and that she'll hurt him."

"I know the feeling." Sam desperately wanted to help, but little by little she could see that whatever Danny was saying, it was working as Ember's hair went from a roaring blaze to a glimmer. Her guitar still hung in front of her, which Sam knew Ember could use to mind control people and attack with, but she was obviously calming down. "He does seem to know what he's doing though, doesn't he?"

"He's a Fenton," said Jack simply as Val came upstairs, thermos in hand.

"Is that it?"

"We think so. We had to check it against the logs downstairs, but this should be the one she's looking for," said Maddie. "I'll bring it out."

"Uh, that's probably a bad idea, isn't it?" said Tucker. "Haven't you tried to experiment on her or catch her dozens of times?"

"So has Valerie," pointed out Sam, remembering how agitated Ember looked when she was outside, and Tucker frowned as they looked back out the window. In that moment, she realized that she could do something here, even if it wasn't fight the ghosts or talk them down the way Danny could. It was small, but it mattered.

"Valerie's hunted ghosts?" said Mr. Fenton.

"I keep a blaster in my purse," Valerie squeaked, shooting a brief glare at Sam. "Y'know, just in case?"

The defense sounded feeble even to Sam, and she suspected Val's secret would be out to the Fentons soon. Right now, though, she realized that she wasn't useless here, since only she and Tucker had no real history with Ember beyond getting hypnotized by her once ages ago. "I'll do it."

"You sure?" Tucker asked, obviously worried she would have another panic attack, but that was exactly why she had to do this. While logically she knew she had little to no control over whether or not she had a panic attack, emotionally, she was so tired of being afraid and anxious all the time.

"He seems to have it under control. I think it'll be okay," she said with way more confidence than she actually felt, and grabbing the thermos from Mrs. Fenton, Sam walked outside.

Sam felt her heart start to race as she approached the two of them, and she slowly counted to five as she breathed in, held it for five seconds, and then breathed out for five seconds, repeating it as she closed the distance between them. She focused on the sound of the neighbor's wind chime tinkling, the faint chill in the breeze, the smell of the first flowers blooming, and the grass beneath her feet. If she could keep her breathing under control and continue to focus on the present moment, she would be okay.

"I've got the thermos," said Sam, her voice cracking. The air around Ember had a bite to it that made Sam's teeth ache. Even when her hair wasn't actively on fire, Ember made the hair on Sam's skin stand on end, a weird combination of feeling like frostbite and the worst sunburn she'd ever gotten. She used to wonder how Danny and the others could stand it, but after she mentioned it to Tucker once, she realized most people didn't react to the ghosts this way or feel their presence as intensely as she did. Sam hated it, since it was just one more thing about the ghost attacks that made it harder for her to deal with. The only one she hadn't felt that intense discomfort from was Phantom. The strange atmosphere was there, but it felt comfortable back then rather than hostile.

"Thanks, Sam." Danny grabbed the thermos with one hand and gently grabbed her hand with his other one. His fingers were ice cold as they gripped hers tightly and she felt a shiver run down her back, but the strange bite to the air vanished, and instead she felt like she was outside while bundled up on a sunny winter day. It was cold, but not unpleasant, reminding her eerily of the time Phantom led her out of the school. She wondered if Danny knew that would happen or not, or if he realized he felt so much like Phantom. Maybe it was because of all the times Phantom overshadowed him, however briefly.

"This your girlfriend? She's cute, babypop," said Ember as she swung her guitar onto her back and her fiery hair went completely out. She could easily pass for a human in the punk rock scene now if you could ignore the frightening atmosphere. No wonder Danny worried he might actually be dead after learning he had weird, ghostly attributes.

"She's my friend," corrected Danny, and she had no idea how he stayed so calm. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Experience, probably. He did spend close to two years communicating with the ghosts. "Like you are."

"Ohhh, bold words, dipstick, for someone who let my boyfriend stay trapped in a thermos for so long," she said, and Sam was surprised as she felt a twinge of jealousy. She knew Danny spent time with the ghosts, knew he was friendly with them, but this? Danny wasn't lying. They genuinely felt like friends in a way she and Danny hadn't in ages.

"I didn't know," he said as he handed it over to her. "Really. I'm sorry. But, uh, please don't empty that until you get into the Ghost Zone again. It's also got Desiree in it."

Ember nodded as she took it from him. "While I'm tempted to chuck this thing into a dark hole when I'm done, I'll give it back to you at our next lesson as long as you promise not to let your parents keep Skulker trapped in there again for so long. Assuming you're still interested, anyway?"

"Yeah, I am. And I promise, Ember. Thanks." Ember vanished and, after a moment, Danny let go of her hand. The weird, protective bubble was gone, but so was the strange icy burn caused by Ember's presence. "You okay, Sam?"

"Not really," she admitted as she rubbed the goosebumps that covered her arms. "Did you know you could do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make the space around Ember feel less creepy?" she clarified, and he stared at her. "I'm gonna guess that's a no, but when you grabbed my hand, it made the air stop feeling so suffocating around her."

"I didn't even know the air felt weird around her," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Ah. She was right, then, that for some reason it didn't affect him, despite him being a liminal. Figures. "I guess I'm glad I could help. We should get back inside though, huh?"

They turned and walked back toward the house. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. She still felt like she was half a step away from having a panic attack, but so far she was managing it, at least. "Yeah, your parents probably want you to tell them everything about it. Your Dad seems pretty proud of you, you know."

"He's excited that I care about ghosts. He's always wanted one of us to take on the family business," said Danny.

"Is that what you're going to do?"

Danny shrugged. "I don't know if I want ghosts to be, like, everything, but then again, at this point I don't know what else I would do instead unless NASA decides they want an astronaut that can check for ghosts on the moon."

"Seems unlikely, but they've done some pretty weird experiments before, so maybe you've got a chance," she teased. Heading inside, she stood by while Danny's parents began asking dozens of questions about Ember, spending more time than Sam would've expected wondering how or why a ghost might have a boyfriend, how this might inform their understanding of the Ghost Zone and their culture, and that conversation eventually devolved into what they would need to do if some ghost showed interest or affection for Danny. Danny answered their questions patiently, although Sam could sense he was getting frustrated.

"Mom, Dad, come on," he groaned. "I'm not going to date a ghost. Promise. That's too far even for me."

"We know, hon, we just need to start considering what might happen if one gets a little too interested in you, that's all," said Mrs. Fenton.

"Hey, um, funny as this all is, I should probably get going," said Tucker. Oh. It was getting pretty late, wasn't it? "But maybe we can talk more tomorrow?"

Danny nodded as he followed her and the others to the door, leaving his parents behind in the kitchen. "Sure. Tomorrow."

"And Danny?" said Sam. "You, um, should tell your parents about Phantom. How you were helping him. I know you're scared they'll freak out, but I think they can handle it. They're being pretty cool about everything."

"I'll think about it," he said as he shut the door, and Sam rolled her eyes. Of course. The words were as good as a 'no' from Danny, and she wondered yet again what else he was keeping from them as she headed home, desperately hoping it wasn't anything worse than what they already knew. But it had to be, didn't it? There was no reason to keep anything else a secret, not anymore, unless it was somehow even worse than what he already confessed to. Sam just hoped it wasn't anything that would get him or anyone else killed.