Chapter Three: Blood is Thicker Than Water

"It's okay if you don't like me. Not everyone has good taste." - Unknown

I have two cellphones. One is your typical flip phone, and the other is a ghost phone that I'm still learning how to use. The latter can make calls to either realm without issue. I've gotten used to tapping the images on the large screen to make things happen - Eileen says it's called a "touch screen" - but I'm still figuring out all the features. There are so many features. It's awesome. Mildly confusing but awesome.

Because I'm still at Reaper's lair, I used that phone to make a few calls. The first was to Jazz, telling her what's going on. She promised to relay the message to Sam, Tucker, and Valerie. After that, I called the Scotts. Andrew picked up and put the phone on speaker for me. I explained the situation, and they were willing to help, with the parents having the foresight to bundle up since we don't know how cold it will be wherever Bub's folks live. Assuming they don't live somewhere like Texas or Arizona.

The problem is that Mira can't electronically transport herself and others to somewhere she's never been before - she tried and said that if felt like her "molecules got all rearranged," whatever that means - so she'll have to bring her parents here via Portal Creation. Then, she can open a new portal to where the Pierces live.

Andrew and Natalie have never been in this realm before, and it shows.

When they first come through Mira's portal, the first thing they do is look around at the vibrant green atmosphere. Mira had opened the portal on Reaper's front porch, so her folks have a clear view of my grim's impressive lair.

Andrew lets out a low whistle. "This 'Reaper' must be loaded."

"Oh, money's not really a thing around here," I say. I wave my hand toward the building. "Lairs just sort of…happen, and most of them are only marked by floating doors. Though there are still landforms floating around."

Andrew's face goes pale. "Floating? Is- Does everything float here?"

"No! No," Mira says quickly. "This place is on solid ground. Don't worry." Andrew relaxes, and his daughter whispers to me. "I forgot my dad is terrified of heights. Don't tell him."

I wink at her in response.

Natalie, meanwhile, is staring wide-eyed at the decor around the front yard. "Are those real tombstones?"

…I never questioned that. Suddenly, I have the morbid desire to get a closer look. But, we have more pressing matters.

Mira follows her mother's gaze and shrugs. "Well, Reaper is the Master of Death."

Her parents snap to attention. "Wait," Andrew says, "does that mean… When you said his name was-"

"Their name," I correct. "And yeah, they're pretty much who you think they are. But, they're super nice."

"They look the way you'd expect, too," Mira warns. She points to the front doors. "And, those doors are that size for a reason."

Andrew and Natalie stare in unmasked horror at the enormous doors and nod. Natalie takes a step closer to her husband.

This should be fun. Mira glances at me as if thinking the same thing. "I'll go get Bub and Reaper," she says tightly.

Mira walks up to the doors and bangs the knocker three times. Not a moment later, the doors open, and Andrew and Natalie make small noises and huddle together at the sight of Reaper. Mira's parents' fear is understandable, but I'm still insulted on my grim's behalf.

"Ah, Mira Scott," Reaper greets. They raise their head and spot the rest of our group and walk up to us. "And, you must be her mother and father."

I nudge Andrew, who breaks out of his stupor and clears his throat. "I-I'm Andrew and this is Natalie."

Natalie's hand shoots toward Reaper. "Hi there. Hello."

When Reaper bends down to shake her hand then Andrew's, both parents look ready to collapse. Reaper, likely having gotten this reaction before, pays them no mind. "It is a pleasure to meet you both."

Reaper straightens, and I angle my head. When Reaper bent over, I caught a glimpse of light purple that looked like a certain little man's favorite onesie.

I grin. "Bub, what are you doing back there?"

There's a loud groan and a pouty infant floats off an amused Ancient's back. Bub crosses his arms and gives me the most adorable glare in history. Mouse is nowhere to be seen; I guess Bub decided that the plushie's services won't be needed. "I was supposed to surprise everyone."

He's so serious that I almost feel guilty. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Mira tries not to laugh and makes introductions. "Mom, Dad, this is Bub. He's the baby we told you about."

The baby in question flies in front of Mira's parents, his irritation forgotten. "Hi! My name is Bub. That's my name."

Evidently, Bub's physical appearance is easier for Andrew and Natalie to handle. Probably because he resembles a human baby rather than the embodiment of death.

"Why, hello there," Natalie coos. She's like me in that she has a soft spot for kids. (The best example being that she was the one who suggested adopting me.) "My name is Natalie."

"And, mine's Andrew," Mira's father adds. "We hear you're looking for your parents."

Bub nods. "Uh-huh. I wanna know what my human-parents are like."

Andrew and Natalie exchange looks with barely concealed pain. It must have just hit them that this is a dead baby they're talking to.

"Indeed," Reaper says. "The problem is that we are unsure of how they will react to their son's ghostly form."

I clench my fists. "They'll love him. I know it." (I hope.)

Now that the shock has worn off, Andrew speaks much more calmly to Reaper. "Danny filled us in. We'll talk to them."

Natalie rests her hand on her husband's back. "If they love their son half as much as we love our daughter, it shouldn't be a problem."

Mira ducks her head and smiles.

"Very well," Reaper says. "The home of Zachary and Richelle Pierce, Bub's father and mother, lies in Nashville, Tennessee."

"Oh!" Natalie rubs her hands together. "If this goes well, we should celebrate with some of that famous hot chicken!"

I swipe my hand through the air. "No thanks. I don't do spicy food. Could bring some home for Jazz and Tucker, though. I wonder how well food holds up via portal travel."

"Pretty well in my experience," Mira says. Sounds like I'm bringing those two dinner.

While we were talking, Reaper had summoned their scythe - a weapon with a thick wooden handle with intricate carvings and a long blade sharp to cut hair with a mere touch - and swung it in an upward arc. The blade sliced through the atmosphere like a hot knife through butter, and now a swirling silver vortex is in front of us.

Reaper steps aside and their scythe vanishes. "Best of luck to all of you. And, if it is not too much trouble, perhaps you might bring me some of this 'hot chicken.' I find that I am rather curious."

Mira scoffs and waves a dismissive hand. "Please. I could make you a fresh plate, no problem."

Andrew looks at her over his shoulder. "You're a great cook, hun, but I think this is one of those things you have to eat locally or it doesn't taste the same."

Mira's mouth says, "Fair enough," but her eyes say, "Challenge accepted."

Reaper almost laughs. "I have opened the portal in a secluded location. Bub's birth parents reside in a house on the edge of the city."

Reaper tells us the address, and the rest of us say our goodbyes and step through the portal. Traveling between worlds is like being transported by Mira's Electrokinesis, but a rush of wind replaces the staticky feeling. One minute we're at Reaper's lair, the next we're in the human realm and standing behind some building.

Bub looks all around. "Where are my human parents?"

"We'll have to find their house first, Bub," Mira says. "Then, you can meet them."

I look at the floating baby and the glowing green girl, and the obvious pops into my head. I switch back to human-form and say, "Maybe you two should stay invisible 'til we get there. You'll stick out like sore thumbs otherwise."

Natalie purses her lip and pinches the fabric of my shirt. "Said the boy who's not wearing a jacket when it's this cold out."

I take a step away. "I'm dressed in layers, aren't I?"

"A t-shirt over a long-sleeved shirt doesn't count, young man."

"Relax, Mom," Mira says. "Danny may only be half-ghost, but temperatures don't bother him any more than they do me or Bub. Uh, where's Bub?"

I panic until I see him crawling around in a pile of dirty snow that's almost the same color as his skin. I want to reprimand him for getting his face so close to that stuff, but at the last minute, I remember that he's already dead. Instead, I say, "Bub, we can play in the snow later. We need to focus on finding your parents."

"Sorry," Bub says and flies back up to us.

When everyone's present and accounted for, I say, "I'm sure Reaper didn't drop us off that far from the Pierces' house. Let's find the place and hope no one comments on my attire."

I've only ever been to a big city one other time. It was in middle school when my parents brought me to a museum that had just opened a new astronomy exhibit. Most kids celebrate turning twelve by hanging out with their friends and gorging themselves on pizza. I did do that, but my main celebration was taking a guided tour about the galaxy and immersing myself in an IMAX theater presentation on the solar system.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am a proud nerd.

But apart from that and the diner we went to for lunch, I didn't get to see much of the city. Nashville isn't the same place, but I find myself taking in the sights as we humans walk with our otherworldly companions invisible behind us. There are tall structures that seem to stretch all the way to the sky. Cars zoom along the road at a constant rate, leaving the bitter stench of exhaust in their wake. We're supposedly near the edge of the city's borders, yet we pass by a lot of shops, including more than one place that advertises hot chicken. I hear Mira hum with interest at those signs. Knowing her, she'll start experimenting with spices the second she gets home.

Unfortunately, Natalie was right and my lack of winter gear makes me conspicuous. At least enough so that an older gentleman sees us and glares at us.

"Where's your coat, son?" he asks me. Then to Andrew and Natalie, "Why isn't your kid wearing a coat?"

It takes a moment for one of us to come up with an explanation. Andrew does so. "Oh, he's our…nephew. From…Alaska."

"Yep," I say. "Born and bred in Alaska. That's me."

The man is pacified by our half-baked excuse. "Is that so? Then this must be a heat wave for you, kid."

"You could call it that," I respond.

When the man walks away, there's a tap on my shoulder and a disembodied feminine voice whispers to me, "So, how much farther, cousin?"

I roll my eyes and check the number on the bank we're standing in front of. "We should be there soon."

"Do you think they'll like me?" Bub asks. Not worried, merely curious.

"Of course they will," Natalie says.

A few people stare at the woman who just spoke to nothing, and we make the executive decision to be silent until we get there.

This gives me some time to think. Or overthink, I suppose. As much as I want to believe that Bub's parents will adore him despite his not-so-human appearance, I can no longer deny that there's a chance they won't accept him. Not now that we're this close. In fact, the doubts are playing ping-pong in my brain. Not all parents are as accepting as Andrew and Natalie Scott. (My human ones certainly aren't.) What if Zachary and Richelle Pierce take one look at what their little Anthony has become - with his gray skin, glowing red lizard eyes, stark white hair, and ability to defy gravity - and slam the door in our faces? Or worse, what if they try to fight him off because they think he's dangerous (like Mom and Dad do with me)?

Oh god, what would that do to Bub? Even if he doesn't remember them, they're still his parents. I told him that parents love their child no matter what. Please, please don't let me be proven wrong! (For either of us.)

Andrew lets out a strangled breath and scrunches up, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "Is it me, or did it just get colder?"

Oops. I remove the extra chill in the air. "Sorry. That was me. I'm nervous."

Natalie gives me a kind smile. "I'm sure it'll be alright. We just need to explain to them that Bub is still their son, even if he looks a little different these days."

I feel Mira rest her hands on my shoulders and hang on as she floats behind me. She pecks me on the cheek. "They'll love him as much as we do. You'll see."

"I'm a lovable guy," Bub chimes in.

There's a soft smile on my lips as I turn in the direction his voice came from. "You sure are, little man."

I hope his parents agree. The reassurances did nothing to quell the tightness in my chest. The sad fact is that, while ghosts are more accepted than they were when they first became public knowledge, there are still so many people who hate them. My own birth parents and the Guys in White are just skimming the surface of that hate. Most of it isn't nearly as destructive physically, but the emotional impact is there.

And, Bub is so young…

We're almost there now, so I call Bub over to me. He flickers into existence until we remind him to stay hidden. I feel his chubby arms and legs wrap around my arm and fight the urge to reposition him so that he's nestled against my chest. That would look too weird to passersby.

I look straight ahead while speaking to that beautiful little boy. "You listen to me, Bub. Whatever happens," a knot forms in my throat, but my eyes are miraculously dry, "know that-that you are loved. By Reaper, by Cornelius, by all of us." I swallow hard and add quietly, "By me."

Mira wraps her arms over my chest and nuzzles my neck. "Danny's right, Bub. It's like you said, you're a lovable guy."

But, Bub ignores her in favor of me. "Are you scared?"

"Yeah," I confess. There's no one else around besides the people driving by, so conversing with the air is safe for now. "I really want this to go well for you."

"It will," Bub says, completely certain. "You know how I know?" I picture him beaming with pride at his next words. "Because my daddy is super nice and protects people from bad guys."

"How do you know?" Natalie asks curiously.

"Oh, I know," Bub says, completely serious.

Is he using me as a baseline? As flattering as that is, he'll be disappointed if his father isn't a fireman or police officer or something similar. I highly doubt that the man is half-ghost.

Wouldn't complain if he was, though. As long he wasn't like Plasmius.

"Look alive people," Andrew says then cringes at his wording.

He relaxes when I point at myself with the comment, "I've got that down pat," and Mira laughs at my joke.

Andrew continues checking house numbers. "We're almost there. How should we play this? 'Cause it probably wouldn't be a good idea to show off a bunch of ghosts right out of the gate."

That's exactly what I did for Mira, and it worked fine. Then again, Mira wasn't a baby and had only been dead for about a day. Bub's been a ghost for at least a few months, so I guess it would be more of a shock to just toss him in there and say, "Does this belong to you?"

"Bub and I could stay outside until you're ready for us," Mira suggests. "That way you guys could ease them into the idea."

"But, I wanna meet them now!" Bub whines.

Andrew turns toward him. "You don't want to scare them, Bub. Most people aren't used to having ghosts show up on their doorstep. Especially their own kid." I don't miss the way his brown eyes flick toward where he thinks Mira is. Mira's grip on me tightens, and I rest one hand on her arm. "We need to prepare them first. This will go smoother if we do."

"Remember what I told you about patience," I say to Bub while picturing his pouty face. "Consider this another practice session."

"Fine," Bub drawls, better resembling a moody teenager - I would know - than a baby.

He and Mira pull themselves off of me once we reach the house. Like the Scotts' house, it's a simple two-story structure, though it lacks Natalie's garden out front. In fact, besides the sign reading, "No Solicitors," there isn't anything on the outside to make it stand out.

I shrug. "Let's just wing it. That usually works out for me." Except when it doesn't.

Andrew gives me a side-eye. "I feel like we should have a real plan."

Natalie presses her fingers together. "Why don't we start by getting their opinion on ghosts and go from there?"

My stomach churns, but I agree.

Mira and Bub, still invisible, stay on the front lawn. The rest of us walk up to the door and ring the doorbell and wait. And, wait.

"Maybe they're not home," Natalie says.

I'm about to try the doorbell again when the door finally opens. A tall woman, at least six feet, stands in the doorway, and my first impression of her is "not friendly." She has long, pencil-straight dark brown hair, freckles covering her face, her arms, and every other trace of visible skin, and dark brown eyes that are telling us to hit the road.

If this is Richelle Pierce, then we're certainly off to a great start.

And yet, there's something familiar about her…

Richelle points toward the sign out front. "Apparently, you people can't read. 'No solicitors' means no solicitors."

The misunderstanding soothes me enough that I can speak. "Actually, we-"

"Why aren't you wearing a jacket?" Richelle asks me, the slightest bit of concern peeking through.

Natalie points to me. "He's from Alaska."

"Oh." Richelle starts to close the door.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Andrew shouts. "We're not solicitors. We just want to talk."

Richelle opens the door fully and looks over the three of us, oozing suspicion. "Do I know you?"

That's what I'd like to know.

Natalie folds her hands together. "Why don't we start over. I'm Natalie. This is my husband, Andrew, and this is our…nephew, Danny. And, you are?"

"Richelle," Bub's mother confirms cautiously.

Natalie continues taking the lead. "Well, Richelle, we were hoping to- This is going to sound weird, but we wanted to talk to you about, uh," she hesitates as she realizes just how weird this must be, "ghosts?"

Richelle's demeanor shifts. We've piqued her interest, and I swallow a relieved sigh. She glances around as if expecting a ghost to appear. Neither Mira nor Bub does so, and Richelle stands aside and holds the door for us. "Why don't you come inside? You can hang up your coats on the rack there."

Maybe this will be okay, after all.

Andrew and Natalie hang up their jackets and follow Richelle into the living room. There is a loveseat and a recliner, and Richelle gestures to those, telling us to take a seat while she gets her husband. Andrew and Natalie sit together on the loveseat, and I take the recliner. We wait in silence for Richelle to come back, and I gaze around absently until my eyes lock on something. On the end table beside me, there are three things: a lamp, a small stack of coasters with animals on them, and a picture frame.

I pick up the silver frame, and my breathing hitches as I look at the photograph within. It's a close-up of a baby's face. An adorable little boy with fat cheeks and auburn hair and his mother's dark eyes. His lips are parted as he stares uncomprehendingly at the camera.

Bub. As a human. As a living, breathing human named Anthony Pierce. I force myself to put the picture back before swiping at my watery eyes.

I'm presentable just in time for Richelle to return with her husband. Zachary Pierce is a slim man with auburn hair - that's where Bub got it from - and a goatee, glasses, and very light brown eyes. Like Richelle, he strikes me as oddly familiar. Not just because he's regarding us in the same way his wife did when she opened the door.

Bub is so friendly and upbeat. He must take after a relative. Unless it's because he's a baby and he'll be more serious when he's older. How does that work for ghosts?

"I'm Zac," the man says and the couple stands between us and the TV. "My wife says you three want to talk about ghosts."

Between their demeanors and the fact that their shirts and pants are white, I feel like I'm being interrogated by the Guys in White.

"Uh," Natalie stammers because we're all on edge, "if you want to sit down, we-"

Richelle holds out a hand when Natalie starts to get up. "We'll stand. Now, cut to the chase, will you? We just got off work, and we'd like to finish changing and relax."

These people made Bub. The boy who throws himself at me in sheer joy every time I visit. Who loves arts and crafts and every flavor of Goldfish cracker except parmesan and pretzel (he's the only person I know who hates pretzels). Zac and Richelle Pierce made him.

"So…" Andrew drawls, trying to hide his discomfort. "Where do you work?"

"We're 9-1-1 dispatchers." A small smile pulls at Zac's lips. "That's actually how we met."

Richelle looks at him lovingly, and the tension seeps out of me. I've met a few 9-1-1 dispatchers, and I know that's one of the most emotionally draining jobs out there. A perfectly logical explanation for their demeanors. They've just come home from a stressful day at work, and they're eager to unwind. I can both respect and relate to that.

Sounds like Bub won't be disappointed; both of his parents protect people, albeit indirectly.

Zac loses that blip of emotion as quickly as it appeared. "But, that's irrelevant." He adjusts his glasses. "What's this about ghosts? Well?" he adds when no one knows how to proceed.

No sense in beating around the bush. I suck in a breath and jump into the deep end. "Listen. We-we know you lost your child." Andrew's and Natalie's heads shoot my way, and I toss my hands in the air. "What? Is there really a nice way to say it?"

"What's it to any of you?" Zac asks. He and his wife are back on the defensive, but it seems more forced now.

I stand up. "My parents study ghosts. Because of that, I've met my fair share of the undead."

Richelle's hands fist at her sides, and her voice shakes slightly. "What are you getting at?" Zac puts his hands on her shoulders and stares a hole through me.

Before I lose my nerve… "Anthony is still around. And, he'd like to see you." When Bub's parents only stare at me, I add cautiously, "If you'd like to see him, of course."

Twin whirlwinds of emotion cross their now-pale faces, and I don't know how to interpret that.

Andrew takes over as he and Natalie rise. "Our daughter is also a ghost. She's here too."

"We know how it feels to lose your child," Natalie says kindly. "And, we know that having them return as a ghost is a lot to take in. But, Bub - that's what he calls himself now - Bub is still your son. He looks different and has powers- He can also talk, which means when he needs something, you don't have to guess!"

Andrew chimes in with a cheeky grin. "Plus, you don't have to feed or change or bathe him. You get to skip half of the work!"

"And, he'll age until he's twenty-five," I say. "You can watch him grow-up." Something sharp and warm overflows in my chest and makes my voice break. I fold my hands in front of me, spurred on by so many emotions. "Bub is the sweetest thing in the world. In either world. Always smiling and so curious and- Please, please, give him a chance."

Richelle whirls on her husband, fresh grief plain on her face. "Should we?"

Zac looks from one person to the other, almost in panic.

"I'll bring them in," Natalie says, starting for the door.

Meanwhile, Zac and Richelle whisper to each other and make frantic gestures. I want to get closer so I can hear them, hear what they're saying about Bub. They don't look happy. They look scared. It's the shock. They're in shock, and once they recover from that, once they see their son, they'll fall in love with him all over again.

They have to.

They have to.

Someone rests their hand on my shoulder. Andrew had approached me. "Are you okay?" he whispers.

I don't have an answer. I won't until I see how the family reunion goes. Soon enough, Natalie returns, and she's not alone.

Mira is in the room, and the sight of her holding a baby, particularly that baby, is a welcome distraction. She's cradling Bub in her arms, his little hands clenched as he gazes around the room. Mira looks down at him with so much warmth, as if he is her own child. She'll make a good mother some day.

A fleeting thought says that she'd make a good mother to him.

Natalie gestures to the ghosts behind her. "Richelle, Zac, this is Mira. She's my and Andrew's daughter.

Mira lifts Bub a little. "And, this is Anthony. But, he likes to be called Bub now."

Bub's wide eyes land on the two unfamiliar humans. He makes a curious noise and flies over to them, oblivious of the way they don't instantly crush him in a hug. He pays no attention to the way they take a long step away from him and look at him not with joy or relief but with horror.

I swear I can hear the crack in my chest, but I can't lose hope. Bub doesn't look quite as human as he once did. He's been dead for months. Of course his parents are freaked out.

They're still in shock. Once that wears off, it'll be okay.

It will be okay. Because it has to be.

Bub's lips slowly spread in an eager grin. "Are you my human parents?" He waves at them, his innocence palpable. "Hi, my name is Bub! That's my name! Um… It's my new name. My old name is Anthony, and my new name is Bub!"

Zac stands there with his mouth open, and Richelle's eyes glisten and her chin quivers. When Bub goes in for a hug, his mother shoots past him with a quiet sob. She runs down the hall, and I hear a door slam. Zac looks at us and points in that direction while making strangled sounds. He carefully avoids looking at Bub before taking off after his wife.

But, it's okay! Once Bub's parents calm down, they'll come back and be so happy that their son is still here. Because that's how it works!

Parents never stop loving their kids. Even if they become ghosts.

My hands are shaking. There's a thick lump in my stomach and another in my throat. It doesn't help that Bub is more confused than upset.

"Why did they run away?" he asks.

Natalie grits her teeth but puts on a smile. "They just…need to get used to you being a ghost. They'll be back soon."

"And, when they come back," Mira says with faux optimism, "I'm sure they'll want to know everything about you."

Andrew's smile looks closer to a grimace as he ruffles Bub's hair. "It's a little scary when a human you love turns into a ghost. But, they're your parents, so I know they still want you here. Natalie and I still wanted Mira when she became a ghost. I'm sure this won't be any different."

Everyone is pretending to be cheery. No one believes the Pierces will have anything nice to say when they come back. If they come back.

No. They will come back! They can't not love him just because he's a ghost!

They… They can't…

Out of nowhere, my mother's words pop into my head. "It doesn't matter who you were as a human. What matters now is that you are a ghost." There had been so much venom at the end. She wasn't even talking to me when she said it. Yet, the words cut so, so deep.

Bub turns to me with a cautious frown. "You said parents love you no matter what, right?"

While you're at it, little man, why don't you slice my chest open with a butter knife? "I did say that." I hope he doesn't hear the waver in my voice. I take his tiny hands in my much larger ones. "I-I'll go check on them. I'm sure everything's fine, but I'll make sure, okay?"

Mira taps my shoulder when I turn toward the hallway. "Danny, maybe you should give them some space."

I shrug her off. "I'll be invisible." I become just that and add, "They won't even know I'm there."

My legs have turned to jelly, but I forge on. Even if Bub doesn't want to live on Earth with his parents, he still needs to be safe in their house, formerly his home.

I phase through the closed door and find Zac and Richelle standing in their bedroom, talking quietly but anxiously. Richelle's face is a wet, blotchy mess, and Zac looks like he's on the verge of being in the same state.

"Whether it's really him or not," Zac is saying, "you know what we have to do."

Richelle nods, still crying, and throws her arms around her husband. "It can't be him. My - hic - my baby is not a ghost!"

Crushing his wife against him, Zac barely lets out a sob and a tear slips down his cheek. "If he is…" His next words sound physically painful to get out. "He's not our son anymore."

"I know," Richelle whimpers.

I bite down hard on my knuckle in a desperate attempt for control. I didn't expect this to be as easy as it was with Mira's parents, but I didn't think it would be this bad!

My emotions swirl until fury settles within. Bub did nothing wrong, yet his own parents are acting like he became a serial killer. They need to come back to the living room. They need to sit down and talk to all of us, ghost and human alike. One way or another, we'll show them that-

Zac clears his throat and releases his wife, who tries to compose herself by taking deep breaths. Zac taps his watch and speaks into it, his voice almost steady. "This is Operative Z with an update on what our sensors picked up."

Operative Z? Sensors?

A staticky male voice answers the call. "Report, operative. You mentioned three possible entities."

Zac nods even though the other person can't see him. I assume. "Two of them have gained access to our home. They haven't tried anything yet, but they got three civilians involved. Two adults and one teenager. We think they may have been tricked or even brainwashed."

"Any sign of the third ghost?"

"Not yet. Ri- Operative R, anything on the scanner?"

While her husband was talking, Richelle ran over to the wall and flipped some panel in it. Now a small monitor with some buttons is there, and she's fiddling with it. She turns to Zac with such an intense expression that, if it weren't for the state of her face, you'd never guess that she'd been crying a moment again.

"The third is in here as well," Richelle reports. "By my calculations, it's much stronger than the others."

Their work uniforms being white could easily be a coincidence. But, now I'm remembering those people I saw last week. The auburn haired man and the freckled woman. The people who were filling in from out-of-state.

9-1-1 dispatchers, my ass.

I should have listened to Reaper. I should have talked to Santa before bringing everyone here. That way, we would have known that Bub's parents work for the Guys in White.