Chapter 7.

Lena

"I made a new friend today," Sophia told me, looking up from her spot at the table, where she sat, doing her homework. "Her name is Taylor. She's in my homeroom, so she showed me around the school."

"Taylor," I said, racking my brain for any students with that name in seventh grade. There were two. A boy, and a girl. I assumed Sophia's new friend was the latter. "Ah, I know her. She's a sweet girl. Very quiet."

"She already has a best friend, though," Sophia told me, somewhat disappointed. "This girl named Daria. I don't think she likes me very much, though."

"Well," I told her. "You're allowed to have more than one best friend."

"I guess you're right," she stated. "Callie will always be my best best friend."

"Maybe you could invite Taylor over sometime?" I suggested. "Stef and I wouldn't mind at all. I'm glad you had such a good first day of school."

We worked quietly for a few more minutes, when Sophia piped up, "Lena?"

"What, sweetheart?" I asked, turning my attention from my paperwork to her.

"Do you think people can do bad things and still be good?" she asked me.

I chewed on the end of my pencil. "That's a good question, sweets. Is it something in your homework?"

She looked down at her math worksheet and shook her head. "No. I was just wondering. Like, say a good person does something bad to a bad person. To protect someone they care about. Does that make them bad too?"

"That was a mouthful," I chuckled. "I think I need to think this one over before I answer." After a long pause, I finally did.

"I don't think anyone is either good or bad," I told her. "We all have some badness and some goodness in us. It's human nature. As for if 'good' people can do 'bad' things and still be good, well... yes, I suppose so. Everyone loses their temper or makes mistakes sometimes. But I believe all people are basically good inside."

"Could you ever love a bad person?" she asked, studying me intently.

I bit my lip, my interest piqued. "Yes, I could. Especially if they were as cute as you." I reached out and pinched her cheek.

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Would you mind getting the door, honey?" I asked Sophia.

"Okay," she said. She jumped up and ran to the front door. When she opened it, Mike was standing on the doorstep, still dressed in his uniform. I watched Sophia's body go rigid and her eyes widen with horror. She was so scared. My heart twisted.

"Hi, sweetie," he said, in a friendly voice. "You must be Sophia. I'm Mike."

I hurried to her and put my hands on her shoulders. "Sophia, sweetheart, this is Brandon's dad. He works with Stef at the police station." I turned to the stairs. "B.! Stef! Mike is here!"

Callie wandered into the living room then, to see what was going on. I saw Mike's eyes fix on her. "Mike, this is Callie, Sophia's older sister."

"Pleased to meet you, Callie," he said, without tearing his eyes away.

"Girls, why don't you go set the table?" I offered. They nodded and hurried into the kitchen.

"Hey dad," said Brandon.

Mike hugged him, then ruffled his hair. "Hey, B. Go on out to the car. I'll be right there."

Stef came beside me and made polite conversation with her ex. Every so often, Mike glanced over at the kitchen. "Are you okay?" I asked him.

"I think I've seen those girls before," he said quietly. "I wish I could remember where."

Stef

I took a sip of my red wine, savoring it. Lena lay against me, petting my hair. "I'm so glad it's the weekend," I yawned. "It's too bad the girls had to start school on such a weird day, though."

"At least they got a taste of how our school works," Lena said. "Speaking of the girls, I had a very philosophical conversation with Miss Sophia earlier."

"Did you?" I laughed.

"She was asking me all sorts of questions about if doing something bad makes you a bad person," she told me. "And if I could love a person who did something bad."

"Huh," I said. "Was it something she was reading about?"

"I don't think so," Lena mussed, stretching. "What I'd like to know is why that little girl has so much guilt inside her. I'm almost positive it has something to do with the 'accident' in their last foster home."

"You think so?" I asked. "We're both pretty sure the girls are hiding something."

"I'd like to know what it is," Lena sighed. "But we're not getting anywhere with Callie, and she and Sophia are always together."

The sisters almost had a symbiotic relationship. It reminded me of the twins when they first came to us. Mariana hardly spoke. She had no need to. Jesus spoke for her, basically did everything for her. And by doing so, it fulfilled a need for him.

"Maybe they would open up if they spent some time alone with us," I offered. "Whatever it is, I'm sure Callie has probably coached her sister not to talk about it. Maybe if they were separated for a little while..."

"I can't imagine the two of them apart, even for a little while," my wife said. "But I agree with you. Giving them some time away from each other is a good idea."

"Maybe we would give them each a special day out," I said, yawning again. "I'm ready to turn in. We'll talk about it more in the morning. Let's head up to bed. It's late."

I was awoken from my sleep not even an hour later, by Sophia's little hand shaking my shoulder. "Stef, please wake up. I need help!"

I jerked awake and sat up. Lena stirred too. "What is it, love?" I asked. Her eyes were frantic. "What's wrong?"

"Callie's having a nightmare and I can't wake her up," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "Please come."

"We're coming," I assured her, slipping out of bed. "Don't worry. We'll take care of her."

Lena and I followed her into the girls' bedroom. Callie was thrashing around on her bed, the sheets tangled around her legs. She was sobbing in her sleep.

"Callie?" I called.

"Get it off me!" she cried. "Get it off me!"

I went to the bed and rubbed her arm. Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyelashes fluttered wildly. With a morbid fascination, I wondered what she was seeing in her head. "Callie, love? It's Stef. Can you wake up for me?"

"Please... get it off," she whimpered, frantically rubbing up and down her arms with her hands.

"Get what off, honey?" I asked.

"The blood," she sobbed. I turned to my wife and shared her frightened look. What was happening was simply eerie.

"Callie, you need to wake up for me," I said a little more firmly, trying to get through to her before she woke up the whole household. "Please, honey. Listen to me. You're safe. You're perfectly safe." I stroked her hair and took her in my arms. "We're here, baby. Right here."

Finally, she shot up and her eyes flew open. She looked around like a deer caught in the headlights.

"See?" I whispered, comforting her. "No blood. It was just a scary, scary dream, but it's over now."

She shook her head, still crying inconsolably. "Would you like to come sleep in our bed tonight?" I offered.

Almost zombie-like, she nodded weakly, too exhausted from her tossing and turning to move. "Sophia, you'll be okay in here by yourself, right?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, looking unsure of herself. Lena tucked her in and told her not to worry. Then, I walked Callie, who was shaking, back to our room, and guided her into the bed.

"Crawl in," I told her. "Right between us." I slid in next to her, Lena on the other side. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her forehead. When I looked back down at her a second later, she was sound asleep, as if nothing had ever happened.

Callie

I woke up disoriented and groggy, feeling more tired than I was when I went to sleep. Something felt wrong, and when it dawned on me what it was, my heart began to pound with panic. I wasn't in my own bed, or even my own room.

I rubbed my eyes; my lashes were stiff and crusty, then I rolled over to look for my sister, but Sophia wasn't there. Stef was laying next to me, asleep. Looking around the room, I realized I was in my foster moms' bedroom.

I touched her arm carefully, and she woke up. "What happened?" I asked. "How did I get in here?"

Stef gave me a strange look. "You don't remember, love?"

"Remember what?" I asked, becoming more confused than ever.

Stef's green eyes were shadowed with worry. "You had a terrible nightmare last night, honey. I've never seen anything like it. You were crying and screaming, like something horrible was happening to you. When we finally woke you up, Lena and I brought you in here." She lowered her voice. "Callie, how can you not remember?"

"I just can't," I said. "I don't remember dreaming anything last night. I- I don't believe you!" All I remembered was going to sleep in my own bed.

"It's true, honey," she told me. "Ask Lena and Sophia. They saw it too. I would never lie to you." She put her arm around me and drew me closer. "Callie, do you have a history of night terrors?"

"I don't know," I said. Then I remembered something. "Is that the same as sleepwalking?"

"I don't know very much about it," she admitted. "But I think they're similar. Lena would probably know more about it, since she studied child psychology. Why do you ask?"

"I think I used to sleepwalk when I was little." I remembered my mom telling me once that she'd find me doing all kinds of weird things during the night when I was a little kid, like taking everything out of the fridge or watching TV in the dark, like the girl from Poltergeist. She said she would just carry me back to bed when it happened. I hadn't thought about that in years.

"This is really interesting," Stef said. "Are you sure you don't remember anything? Not one little thing?"

"No!" I said. "I already told you I don't." I pressed my fingers to my temples. "I'm tired. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Lay down," she said, and I did. She pulled the covers up to my shoulders. "You can rest as long as you want, since it's Saturday. Try to get some sleep, love." She caressed my cheek gently, then brushed my hair out of my face. "I'm going downstairs. If you need me, just call."

"Okay," I yawned. She left the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

Stef

"Is Callie up?" Lena asked me when I went down to breakfast.

I nodded. "I put her back to sleep. She's worn out." I glanced over at Sophia. "Lena, can I talk to you in the other room?"

My wife followed me into the living room. "What's wrong? Is she sick? She scared the living daylights out of me last night."

"Me too," I admitted. "And you know what? She doesn't remember any of it."

"None of it?" Lena asked with a shudder, her dark eyes wide.

I shook my head. "She woke up scared and confused. She couldn't remember how she got in our room. She said she didn't dream anything last night."

"This is spooky," Lena said. "I hate to say it, but it is. I would remember if I had a dream that intense."

"She told me she used to sleepwalk when she was a child," I confided. "Do you think this could be related?"

She shrugged. "It looked like she was having a night terror to me."

"That's what I thought," I agreed. "But why would something like that happen again after all these years? I think it's connected to whatever is bothering her during the day."

"We can't let her live like this," Lena finally sighed. "Whatever she's hiding is eating her alive. We're going to have to find out what happened. Not for our sake, but for hers."

Callie

Sophia was looking over me when I woke up the second time. "How long have I been sleeping?" I asked.

"A couple hours," she said.

I sat up in bed, letting the covers fall off of me. "Sophia, I need you to tell me the truth. Did I do anything... weird last night?"

Her brow creased. "You had a bad nightmare. About... you know. It was really scary. You were talking in your sleep and everything."

My breath caught in my throat. "I need to know everything I did and said." When she didn't answer, I grabbed her shoulders. "I need to know now."

"You were crying," she told me. "And you were screaming, 'get it off of me, get the blood off of me!' You were rubbing your arms too, like there was really blood on them. It was like... like it was happening all over again." Her eyes were round and scared.

"Then what?" I asked.

"Stef woke you up, sort of. It was like your eyes were open, but you were still sleeping. She and Lena took you to their room for the rest of the night, and I went back to bed."

I looked down at my arms, smooth and clean. When I looked at them last night, had I really seen them covered in blood? And then a worse thought hit me, and I shuddered. What else was I capable of doing while I was asleep? Could I possibly tell everything and not even know it? I'd come dangerously close the night before.

To Be Continued