A strong sense of reluctance washed over Jordan as she drove the car up to the driveway of her home. The lights were on inside, telling her that Stella was already home. Jordan suspected that she had been home for a long, long while. Maybe even before the sun went done. And honestly, she couldn't blame her. When Jordan told Stella that Lincoln was going to be their dinner guest, she couldn't help but feel like an archangel from God revealing hidden truths to the prophet on the mount… especially given the way Stella reacted.

Jordan parked the car inside the small garage. As she stepped out, she breathed in the dank, musty air like it refreshed her. It didn't, and to make matters worse she could smell something rotten in the air. Like a dead animal. Like a dead rat…

Jordan shivered. She wasn't the kind of girl to shriek at the sight of a mouse, but the image of a diseased little rodent climbing up her leg had terrified her since she saw a scene like that in a movie when she was a child. She remembered the little girl she had once been whimpering in fear at the scene, and remembered even more vividly the soft, strong arm of her father wrapping itself protectively around her, making her feel safe and secure against all the rats of the world.

Dad…

Jordan shook her head. Don't think about him. Don't think about rats. Don't think about movies. Don't think about anything other than Stella, Lincoln, and this killer on the loose.

They called him the "Royal Woods Wendigo"; called him that because the sick fuck wasn't just happy killing people, oh no, he needed to feast on them as well. The first case that they suspected the Wendigo had a part in was probably also the most gruesome: a young girl, age eighteen years old, had a large chunk of her neck ripped off her corpse. And judging by the teeth marks found on her throat… it wasn't hard to conclude what had happened to her.

From then on, the Wendigo got a bit more refined, if that word could even be used here. The next victim – a short middle-aged woman – also had a chunk of her neck removed, but this time it seemed cleaner. By blade, Jordan had proposed. It was at this time that she had started demanding the chief give her and Stella this case. It wasn't until the third victim that he finally agreed.

There were two more victims after that. The victims were five now… five that they knew of, at least. Another shiver ran down the brunette's spine as she imagined how many other victims could be out there, buried in shallow graves or rotting in abandoned buildings, never to be discovered or avenged...

As far as she knew, there were only five victims. And she intended for there to be no more.

In addition to the cannibalistic aspects, the killings seemed to be motivated by another factor: hate. The victims differed in race and religion, but one thing they all held in common was that they were women. The theory was that the Wendigo was targeting women because they were women, which inspired Jordan to do some interviews with members of Royal Woods' unfortunately growing incel community. She stopped doing them after a while, though. The incels she interviewed were so frustrating and annoying and unhelpful that she found herself wanting to blow their brains out with her gun. Thank God Stella was there to take her outside before she actually acted on it.

In any case, there was still a ghoul out there that targeted young women, and… gee, actually, when you put it like that, Jordan could understand why the chief had been so hesitant to give them this case. It was like sending a black detective to investigate a Klan chapter; good way to get a good detective killed. And now that the public was getting more and more fidgety, more and more demanding from their protectors to, you know, protect them, the chief was telling them that they needed to solve this one soon or he'd call in replacements for them. Jordan wanted to be angry with him about that, but she honestly couldn't be. She couldn't be angry with him or the public or even herself. The only thing she could really rage against was the twisted human mind for its ability to dream up and act upon the most revolting horrors imaginable.

Just like the horrors that made me a detective in the first place, she thought darkly.

As she stepped out onto the grass, crisp air circled her, and she inhaled the freshness. Some of the dark things swirling in her mind started to fade away like bad dreams. And when she went inside her house, she found Stella jumping at the sight of her, then breaking into a fit of nervous giggles.

For the first time all day, Jordan's lips curled into a smile.

A few minutes later...

"Can you stop that?" Jordan barked at Stella across the kitchen table.

"Stop what?"

"Tapping your foot. It's annoying me."

"Right. Sorry."

Jordan sighed. Stella's sheepish tone made her feel guilty. She didn't mean to snap, but… honestly, she was just as nervous about Lincoln as Stella clearly was.

She found her eyes constantly flicking back to the clock. The pendulum of the clock on the kitchen wall swung back and forth, hypnotically drawing her eye and keeping it trained on it. In hindsight, it would've been smarter to give Lincoln an actual time instead of the vague, all-encompassing time of "tonight". What did tonight even mean to a private investigator? To someone like him, the entire night was his time. As far as Jordan knew, he might've been planning to show up at two in the morning with breakfast donuts and a dumb grin on his face.

Nah, he wouldn't do that. Even the most night owl-y of night owls had a sense of what normies meant when they said "tonight". Six, seven, eight, nine at the absolute latest… it was about eight, so there was still a chance he'd show up on time.

"Hey Jordan?"

Jordan turned her head to Stella. The tall Asian woman seemed to be debating whether to say something or not, but ultimately she gave in and asked, "Does Lincoln, uh, look any different?"

Jordan chuckled lightly. "I mean, obviously he does," she murmured jokingly. "Hmmm... he's still got the white hair, if that's what you mean. He's a bit more muscular now, but not like a gym rat or anything. And he's got facial hair… I guess that's new..."

"Mhm..."

One thing Jordan found great about Stella (well, one of many things) was that she wasn't exactly the best at hiding how she felt. She tried to fight to keep emotions off her face, but her big hazel eyes would always betray her. Now, they slunk down to stare at a tile on the floor, and as if she were a mind-reader, Jordan knew exactly how she was feeling.

Afraid. Hurt. Worried. Guilty.

"You're really taking Lincoln coming back hard, huh?" Jordan asked her friend softly.

Stella nodded. "I mean, he was one of my best friends back in school, so I'm happy to know he's… you know, alive. And I also… well, it's kinda stupid..."

"I don't think it's stupid, whatever it is."

"You're sweet." Stella smiled appreciatively at Jordan. Her cheeks burned like a cozy hearth. She swallowed a deep breath, then exhaled to calm her nerves. "It's just that… sometimes I wonder whether Lincoln running away... was partly my fault..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Jordan waved her hands wildly in the air, then slammed her palms on the table so hard the legs shook. "How was him running away your fault? No one even really knows why he ran away, and I doubt it was your fault."

"Well, I just… I don't know if you noticed this or not, but back then, he had a really big crush on me."

Jordan snorted. If that was supposed to be a secret, he did a really bad job hiding it. Especially in eighth grade.'St-Stella! Buh-buh-buh!'

"And I can't help but feel like… maybe if I didn't turn him away, he wouldn't have run away." The Asiatic girl rubbed her arm with an uncomfortable grimace on her face. "Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and make him feel appreciated… all I needed to do was show him I cared. And I didn't. Because I'm a bad friend."

"No."

Stella raised her head. "I'm sorry, what?"

"No," Jordan repeated. She shook her head for emphasis, her ponytail swinging with it. "You're not a bad friend, Stella. I've known you for more than a decade now, and I know that you're anything but a bad friend. I mean, look at you now! You're letting yourself get eaten up with guilt over something that happened years ago!" She paused for a moment, then gave Stella a kindly smile. "You're a good person, Stella, and a great friend. I'm sure Lincoln feels so. Because… because I know I feel so."

The sides of Stella's mouth twitched to the shape of a smile. "You… you really think so?"

"I do, Stella. I do."

Her pink tongue darted out to lick her satin lips. If they were still together, that might've been an invitation for a kiss. Stella felt a desire to press her lips to Jordan's mouth so badly that she visibly shivered.

Both girls were blushing now… but even though they were exes, it didn't feel especially awkward. It just felt… nice.

Knock knock

Stella jumped when she heard the knocking at the door. This was it! This was the moment she had been so anxious about. It felt unreal now that it was actually happening. Stella felt herself start shivering again, but this time, she felt something else with it.

She felt a hand placing itself gently on her arm.

She glanced up, and there was Jordan with her honey-like smile and affection teeming in her brown eyes. "Don't worry about a thing," she reassured. She then smirked, a toying, elfin light dancing at the tips of her mouth. "It would also really help if you didn't meet Lincoln with such clammy skin."

She then went to answer the door, leaving Stella alone in the kitchen. The room suddenly seemed more claustrophobic and dark. The tall shadows on the wall moved of their own accord, independent of their material masters. Every step she heard in the other room was matched by a loud, painful heartbeat. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard two pairs of footsteps return to the kitchen.

"Stella?"

Exhaling, the young woman stood and faced them.

There, standing tall by Jordan's side, was a young man with ashy hair, faint freckles on his face, and an awkward smile.

Stella's eyes widened. I-It's...

The young man shifted his weight from foot to foot, then coughed lightly into his fist. When he finally spoke, a lifetime's worth of memories came back to Stella.

"Hey, uh, Stella," Lincoln Loud said with a reserved wave. "How, um… how have you been?"