CXLV

Two years, six months, and four days after Henry's disappearance

Dear diary,

Today, when I got home from school, I found Dad, Mom, and an unfamiliar man in the living room. My first instinct was to greet them and retreat to my room, but Mom asked me to sit and talk with them. I thought it was strange, but since she asked, I took a seat between her and Dad.

The man had white hair and bright blue eyes. He wore flannel pants, a blue plaid shirt, and a white knit vest. "So, you're the famous Jane," he greeted me with a smile. "My name is Sam Owens; it's a pleasure to meet you."

"This is Dr. Owens," Dad introduced him, draping an arm over my shoulders and pulling me close. "He worked… with Brenner." I understood why he hugged me when he said that.

The man's expression immediately turned sorrowful.

"I replaced Dr. Brenner as director of the Department of Energy for a time," he explained calmly. "After your escape," he clarified. "I was reinstated in the position about two years ago, after his disappearance."

My heart pounded wildly. My palms were sweaty. Was he here to take me back? To lock me up in the lab again? And… would my family allow it?

As if he could read my mind, Dad rubbed my arm repeatedly, clearly trying to comfort me.

"It's okay, Jane," he told me, pressing a kiss to my left temple. "Dr. Owens is here to help us."

Help us?

I realized I had spoken the question aloud when Mom took my right hand in hers. "There are… signs we can't ignore. Maybe you could help us understand them better?"

And then they told me a story…

A boy named Steve Harrington has gone missing. I remembered Dustin had mentioned him a couple of times—he worked at the ice cream shop in Starcourt Mall. Apparently, even though Dustin had initially mocked him for going from 'a popular guy' to working at an ice cream shop, they had become friends.

The strange thing, however, wasn't just his disappearance…

"The bite marks on the raccoon's corpse make us think… of those creatures, Jane. The ones you and… Henry fought two years ago." Dad rarely says his name; when he does, it is as if he believes that speaking softly enough would somehow make his absence hurt me less.

"You think… one of those monsters took Steve?" I asked them.

"We can't say for sure," Dr. Owens admitted. "As I understand it, Henry and you are the only ones who can open the doors between dimensions."

"We told him everything," Mom confessed. "He contacted us shortly after the… incident and helped erase your traces from any possible records. In return, he only asked for… information."

So, he knew everything. Possibly even about Brenner…

"Your parents told me what happened there," he said then, and I saw no trace of malice in his smile. "A real shame about Dr. Brenner and his team."

The way he said it, without the slightest hint of genuine regret, convinced me that he knew more than he was letting on. Judging by my parents' shocked expressions, they hadn't revealed this particular secret to him. But then again, I wasn't surprised that a scientist would piece things together and figure out the truth.

Now, if he didn't plan to use it against me…

"What do you want?" I guessed he was aware of what had happened to my powers.

Dr. Owens intertwined his fingers and rested them on his stomach, settling more comfortably into his seat. And then, he answered: "I want to help you get your abilities back."

This time, my heart didn't race from fear but from…

… excitement.

"Can… can you do that?"

Dr. Owens sighed and pressed his lips into a thin line. "I can't." I didn't even have time to feel disappointed before he added: "But I know someone who can."

I felt Dad's arm holding me more firmly than ever, and Mom's fingers clutching mine.

"I… I'd love that," I admitted with a timid smile.

The scientist immediately got to his feet, clapping his hands together in a gesture that betrayed his enthusiasm.

"Perfect!" With quick, determined strides, he headed for the door. "Wait here for a moment, please—there's no time to waste…"

Not even two minutes had passed before Dr. Owens came back through the front door, this time accompanied by a young woman with dark skin and intense black eyes.

Seeing her, I stood up, too. And I remembered…

I remembered the Rainbow Room. I remembered Mom and what I had seen through her eyes.

I remembered childhood friendship, timid embraces, small hands wiping away tears, and the uncertainty of not knowing what was happening, who we were, what would become of us…

I remembered her.

"Sister," the young woman said, extending a hand with perfectly manicured black nails.

My heart pounded so hard it wouldn't let me speak. It wouldn't let me react.

Still, she—fearless as she had always been—simply smiled, patient in her wait.

At last, I felt more in control of myself and took her hand, my fingers closing around hers.

"Sister," I replied, because it felt like the right thing to say.

Because that was what bound us: a sisterhood not forged by blood, no, but…

… by suffering.