

### Eidolon

Book 1 of The Entanglement Series

By Adeline Blue

Copyright © 2017 by Adeline Blue

Distributed by Smashwords

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotation in a book review.

www.AdelineBlue.com

Cover photographs: girl © SVP; man, used under license from shutterstock.com

Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

All of the characters, events, and organizations in this book are fictitious and are products of the author's imagination. Any information contained in this book, whether based on fact or fiction, is not intended to be taken as factual nor as a teaching.

To my best friend, who loved writing; who infected and impassioned me to do much more of it and made me see it in a whole new light. I wish you were still here.

To the friend, whom I've known since day one of my life, who picked up inspiring me where the first friend left off; who has been there for me with words of support, wisdom and kindness. This book may not have happened this early in my life if not for you.

To the friend, who loved my book before she even read it; who, like my grandmother could, makes me believe in myself in ways I ordinarily don't.

You touch hearts in ways that will change the world.

To the friend who never let us lose touch, who took my crap as a kid and still calls me friend as an adult. You shine so brightly; I don't think you know how often you've lifted me out of the darkness.

And...to the child who wanted to be a writer someday...

Every one of you is sincerely appreciated for the magic you add to my life...and the life I see through your magic.

Your friend, always.

Table of Contents

Prologue - A girl and a ghost

1. Moving Day

2. Their men

3. Healing a broken dream

4. Re-entry

5. Damage

6. The whole gang...almost

7. He tells her, he tells her not

8. He tells her

9. Saturday

10. Beyond the stone

11. Tyler

12. Research and developments

13. Creature discomforts

14. Movie night

15. Still here

16. Dreams

17. Revelation

18. A small army

19. Dust, rust and English tea

20. Silken shadows

21. Thoroughly engaged

22. Timing

23. A ghost by any other name

24. The build-up

25. Plea for help

Next in the Series

About the Author

Eidolon: a spirit-image of a living or dead person:

a shade or phantom look-alike of the human form.

# A GIRL AND A GHOST

~ PROLOGUE ~

Speak softly, for I dwell

In a world of shadow and light

Where in a moment, spoken or not

I succumb to my Earthly plight

And in this land of question,

Of hour-less thought-filled night

I clench to my chest one page yet unwritten

Per chance eve may not darken my sight.

This marker she had not seen before. In her hours and days spent on the grounds of the Well-Sweep Cemetery, this marker she had missed.

As the last words escaped softly on her breath, everything changed. In an echo-less moment that repeated itself purposefully, she felt her every function slow. Her thoughts stopped and her mind was open, seemingly acting in its own interest, welcoming of whatever unknown was about to introduce itself.

The breeze stopped and every leaf of every tree was unnaturally still. There was a mixture of light and dark, as sun through the clouds, though upon thicker air. She was simultaneously numb and hyper-astute. Part of her was eager with anticipation in the hopes that she would see something other-worldly, something that would answer some of the infinite number of questions that she held. The other part of her felt an increasing unease rising in her body, as if a thousand wordless whispers were calling her closer to a ledge she did not want to look over.

Three seconds felt like an eternity and she wondered how long she could take it, though fully aware that she could not move. She was uncertain whether she really physically was bound or if she was just too entranced to request motion from her limbs. Either way she could not hold a thought long enough to come to a conclusion. Her mind, as her body, was locked in involuntary attention.

And then something changed. She was gasping for air, her focus now taking a very sharp turn toward getting oxygen into her lungs. Despite an instinct to panic, she tried to relax, thinking it would allow her airway to open. In the moment that she did, she immediately felt the urge to panic resurface as she realized what was happening. Or at least what it felt was happening. As she relaxed, she began to feel air entering her lungs, but it was less like she was breathing and more like she was being breathed. A random thought of possession filled her mind and she fought in an attempt to stop whatever was happening to her, but to no avail. In the moment of that first breath, this unknown took hold and she could only accept it in exchange for oxygen.

As she allowed herself to be breathed, she also allowed herself to realize she was in control of herself, of her thoughts, of her emotions. It was a feeling of being moved, but not controlled. The presence was oddly familiar. She felt like she should be afraid, but she wasn't.

Still it all felt like a prelude to something big that was taking it's blessed time to reveal itself. Her lips moved, as if trying to form words, but nothing came out. Just as she was becoming so relaxed into this new state that she could hardly tell that anything was different, it happened.

It showed itself.

# MOVING DAY

~ 1 ~

Ellie struggled. The only thing delicate about the moment was the involuntary whimper she let out as she pushed on the box, attempting the magical feat of making it fit in the back of her already full Jeep.

"Need a hand?" A voice said, from behind her.

She turned around, still balancing the box against the trunk fortress she had built. "Hi, Ty." She only considered the question a moment before answering with a bashful smile, "Yeah...I guess I do."

She was the girl next door, but possessing a beauty you could not quite put words to. She was young, at 22, but could also be quite mature. She was intelligent and witty, passionate and playful, independent, yet lovable; a perfect mix of contrasting qualities that confused even her sometimes. Ellie Mayfield was energetic and inquisitive, though prone to bouts of depression, due in part to her constant questioning of what is. She intuitively felt like there was more and it kept her always looking to just about anyplace except where she stood. Her most envious trait was that she was nearly magnetic. Ellie possessed a quality that made most people attracted to her, without fully understanding why or really being able to put words to it. They just knew they were. There was something about Ellie. But she never quite knew what to do with it and more often than not, shyed away from attention. Most of the time she felt it just got her into trouble.

Tyler took the box, allowing her to take on a less kinetic stance. He carried it to his truck and placed it on the passenger seat.

"Why didn't you call me? I can fit your whole Jeep in my truck," he said.

"I don't know. Scot said you got hired to work on the new town museum. I figured you were probably pretty busy with that. Congrats, by the way. That's really awesome."

The truth of the matter was that Ellie, though she'd known Tyler her entire life, had become a little intimidated by him in recent years. He was her best friend Scotlyn's older brother. Ellie was only fourteen when he had left for college and when he returned at twenty two, he was not the boy she remembered. In fact, if Ellie were to describe the perfect man, it would be Tyler. Even now though, she never thought of him in that way, partly because they grew up together, but mainly because she didn't think she stood a chance. Ellie knew he cared for her, but like an older brother does. He was always looking out for Scotlyn and her. Still, it was not as easy to talk to this now twenty-six year old version of him.

"Thank you. I appreciate that," he said. "It was definitely an honor to become part of the crew, but you still should have asked. I would have helped. See, here I am." Tyler joked a little to help her relax.

"Thanks."

"Can you even _see_ out that thing?" Tyler said, pointing to her Jeep.

"Um...no."

They laughed.

"All right, let's unload some of this into my truck. You just got your first apartment. We want you to survive moving day and actually get to it." They each began carrying a box at a time to the bed of his pick up truck. "So, how do you feel about having your own place?" Tyler asked, taking a box from Ellie and placing it in his truck.

"Really excited! I'm going to miss Bryar, though."

Bryar was Ellie's seven year old sister. Arriving fifteen years after Ellie, she was a bit of a surprise, but a good one. She was pure sunshine and the sweetest little girl anyone could want to know.

"You will only be ten minutes away. That's not bad," Tyler pointed out.

"I know, but it's not the same as being in the next room."

"I understand. I think she should be the first one you officially invite over. She'd probably really like that. Might speed the transition."

"She would love that. Thanks. That's what I'll do, for sure."

"You might even have her spend the night. It's not always easy, the first night in your own place," Tyler added gently.

"I'll be OK." Ellie was too excited to believe the move would be anything but great. The truth was, even if the opposite had been true, Ellie probably wouldn't have let on. She was fairly stoic. Though Ellie was pro-active about problems, a thinker and usually had a good attitude, she was also very genuine and her good friends could usually tell when something was up, rare as it was for something to be off enough to show.

Ellie had just finished college and was proud of having saved up enough money to get her own apartment. It was a little brick cottage that sat in the backyard of a larger brick home. It had a lot of history and loads of charm, which is what attracted Ellie to it, not to mention the low rent. Of course, there was a reason for the price. The showers were more cold than hot, half of the windows could not be opened due to years of painting and re-painting, and there was a mouse that refused to move out.

The landlords and owners of the main house were an elderly couple, who took to Ellie right away. They had given her a tour of both homes as well as a long history lesson. The cottage was the older of the houses on the property, which once included many hundreds of acres. Eventually the owners were able to build the bigger home at the front of the property, probably from the sale of the land as the town of Isolde's Tyme was experiencing a population boom. Now both houses shared about half an acre of well-manicured land.

"About that mouse, Mr. Mahoney?" Ellie looked at him with her best fake devil-may-care expression, only half wanting to hear the answer to her question. He gave a laugh before explaining the situation with Michael. Ellie interjected, "Michael?"

"Yes, ye see, that cottage has had a mouse, just one mind you, for as long as anybody can remember. We know it can't be the same mouse, but it's always just one mouse and he always looks the same. We've tried count—"

Mary, his wife, excitedly interrupted. "Tell her about the time we hired three neighborhood kids to chase him until he ran out of the house. Except that he never did. What did happen was two skinned knees, one broken wrist and three bowls of ice cream."

"Yes, well—"

She interrupted again. "Oh, and the time wacky old Mr. Watser brought over a female mouse to try to lure him out," Mary laughed through her last few words. "Or the time Betsy Forrester brought her six cats over, unbeknownst to us, thinking they would surely hunt it down. Old Betsy, always trying to play the hero. House smelled like cat pee for the next 10 years."

She caught herself, suddenly realizing she didn't want to un-sell the place to Ellie. She quickly compensated, "Oh, but that was many, many years ago, dear. It smells lovely now." Mary smiled at Liam, noticing his amusement at her occasional quirkiness.

"Anyway," Liam continued, "we have spent 50 years trying to get that mouse out of the house and when we finally realized that he just wasn't leaving, Mary named him."

"Michael?" Ellie had a partially amused smirk by now.

"Well, Michael was the name of Mary's Uncle. Loved cheese, he did," Liam chuckled. "Wouldn't even come to dinner it you weren't going to have cheese. It seemed only appropriate to name him Michael."

"OK, Michael Mouse it is," Ellie accepted, only half admitting to herself that she had become slightly endeared to the mouse because of the story.

"He doesn't bother, dear. You won't even notice him," Mary added.

Liam Mahoney opened the door to the cottage and right there in front of them sat Michael Mouse.

"Oh, dear," Mary mumbled as she looked back to the pathway, as if checking for a reset button. Ellie just smiled.

After that tour, the history and two wacky, wonderful people, she had known this was the apartment for her. That was over two weeks ago, a very long two weeks that Ellie spent envisioning moving in. Now that it was here, she was alive with enthusiasm. She had woken up at the crack of dawn, ready for the day.

Once Tyler and Ellie had finished moving enough of her things into Tyler's truck that she could see out the back of her Jeep, they drove to the cottage on the west side of Isolde's Tyme. It was technically within the town's center, but it bordered the farm-filled outskirts. It was a nice location, a perfect blending of quiet and convenience. Despite the town's history and the large number of multi-generational residents, Isolde's Tyme had a sizable population of people in their twenties. There seemed to be a resurgence of those who wanted to preserve the history of the town and the simpler ways of life to which it alluded. Ironically enough, most of that movement was powered by young, technology-immersed individuals. It was slowly becoming an inspiring blending of past and present.

Ellie, Scotlyn and Tyler had lived in the town of Isolde's Tyme all of their lives. It was a great place to live and grow up, but until Ellie was in the seventh grade, it was just a place. That school year she had to do a report on the town. The more she researched it, it's history, people and changes, the more she fell in love with it. It kind of gave it a soul.

When Ellie and Tyler arrived, they pulled into the long driveway that lead back to the cottage. Scotlyn and her boyfriend, Trent, were already there unloading their truck of the first round of boxes.

"Ellie, how do you have this much stuff?" Scotlyn asked her before she was fully out of the Jeep.

"It's mostly clothes and books. The rest is everything from my room at home and from my dorm and then an assortment of things my mother bought me for the kitchen." Ellie looked around at the boxes on the lawn, through the doorway and at the three loaded vehicles. "Wow, you're right. I do have a lot of crap."

The cottage was small, with the front being dedicated to a living room on the right and the kitchen on the left. There was no room for a table, but there was a counter with stools to make up for it. A very short hall had Ellie's bedroom on the right and the bathroom on the left. Being historical, it had a lot of charm and character.

Her friends helped her unpack until it started getting dark. They all had work the next morning, but had managed to get everything inside and most of it unpacked in the time they were there. A couple pizza boxes sat on the counter with a few slices left.

Scotlyn and Trent left first. "El, Trent has to be up super early, but if you still need help, I can drive back after dropping him home."

"No, it's OK. I can take it from here. I can't believe how much we got done. You guys are all amazing!" Ellie gave Scotlyn a hug first and then Trent.

"Congratulations, El," Trent said.

Scotlyn and Trent headed to his truck. "Love ya," Scotlyn called out, before getting in the vehicle.

Ellie waved as they drove off. Tyler stepped outside, turned on the porch light and sat out on the step. He chugged the last of the water in his bottle and set it down on the ground.

It was a beautiful night. The sky was pink, the color intensifying as the sun set lower. The temperature was perfect, the air was still and you could smell the sweetness of late spring. It was the first time Ellie was seeing the property at night. The Mahoney's had everything so perfectly landscaped; the grass was cut, certain flowers were starting to bloom and the lights that interspersed the plants gave the gardens an almost magical air. A warm glow came from the windows of the main house and Ellie found it a comfort to have Liam and Mary there; she felt safe, tucked away in their backyard. With her friends all helping her, it was a fun move-in and it was already beginning to feel like home.

"Well, El, you couldn't ask for a nicer night," Tyler said.

"I know. It's perfect." Ellie was still standing, feeling awkward about sitting next to him, but equally awkward about not. Fortunately, he made it easy for her.

"Sit. Relax for a minute. You've been working hard all day," Tyler said, tapping the concrete porch once with his hand.

Ellie sat down on the step, letting her knees lean against one another and crossing her arms over them.

"Are the landlords nice people?" Tyler asked.

"Extremely. Mary is funny and you can tell Liam really adores her."

"That's awesome; what everyone hopes for, I guess."

Ellie nodded. They both sat silently for a few minutes, taking in the perfection of the night, relaxing into its ease and timelessness. The sounds of crickets were just beginning to be heard. The sweetness of the newly cut grass mixed with the scents coming from the clothes dryer vent of the main house. Ellie returned to the present moment and said shyly, "Thanks for helping today."

"Nah, I was happy to do it. It's a little strange to see you out of college and in your own place. I haven't seen you that much in the past eight years, between me going away to college and then you going away to college. The last time we were all a regular part of each other's lives, you and Scot were just teenagers." Ellie watched him speak, feeling both reminiscent of the past and excited for this new phase of her life. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you. I think you are doing great. It's just new, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know," she empathized.

"So, what about you? What now?" Tyler asked.

"What do you mean?" Ellie inquired.

"I mean, your dreams, your goals. You're out of college and in your own place. What's the next thing you do?" Tyler clarified.

Ellie didn't even need to think about it. While there was a lot that she was unclear about, even to the point of being worried, there was one dream that she had held her entire life. And there was no question about it.

"I'm going to dance again," Ellie said, a wistful look coming over her as she stared up into the night sky. "I dream of that every night."

"What is it about dance that you love so much?" Tyler asked, genuinely interested.

Ellie looked up at the stars that were just beginning to appear in the darkening sky. Her words started off soft, but became more impassioned with each successive sentence.

"Its one of the few times I feel like I am fully me. I am focused on the music and the choreography and the exactness of each skill; it's detailed and technical. But then, the music begins to play upon your mind and body, it loosens your muscles and erases your thoughts, like a secret seduction." Ellie blushed and looked down for a moment, a little embarrassed at having spoken such an emotional description, but spellbound by the world she was describing. Seeing Tyler completely immersed in her words, she dared to continue. "First, you move to the music, but then the music moves you. Suddenly you're lost in time, yet aware that with each step, within each moment, you are creating a world that didn't exist a moment ago. You are free... _I,_ am free. There is a perfection in the timing, in the rhythm, in the movement that you are in control of, but also observing with awe. It's both empowering and humbling. There is nothing outside of you; it's all within you. Nothing is more real." She became self-aware again and her voice softened as she continued hesitantly. "I'm not afraid of things when I dance. It's like, for a few minutes, I get to be within the mystery, instead of blind to it."

"What are you afraid of?" Tyler softly inquired.

Ellie felt a shyness taking over her. "I don't know. Just things," she said, trying to avoid the question. "I just know I have to dance. That's the only career I have ever imagined myself having. I don't care if it's a movie, or Broadway, or community theatre. I just know I have to dance."

"And you will," Tyler said, his tone quiet, but his words saturated in supportiveness and confidence. "No one describes something with that much passion without achieving it in a big way."

Tyler looked up at the stars that twinkled all around them. He inhaled the night air deeply before returning his gaze to Ellie, a smirk on his face as if he knew something that no one else did.

"This is it, El. This is the beginning." He smiled at her confidently and it warmed her in a way the springtime evening could not. They enjoyed the peacefulness of night for a while, before Tyler headed back to his home.

Ellie went inside and ate a slice of cold pizza before she continued her unpacking. It wasn't long before she began feeling a little afraid. She beat herself up for being such a baby, but that didn't change the fact that the reality of being on her own was setting in. Her parents and sister weren't right down the hall like in her old house. Her best friend wasn't in the bed across from her, as in her dorm. It was just her and it was a very different, very deep kind of quiet. She put on some music, but it didn't help for long. She wondered how Tyler had known she would feel this way. She couldn't imagine he was ever afraid on his own. She let go of the thought for now, picked up the phone and called her parents.

About thirty minutes later, Bryar was at her door, excited as could be. When Ellie opened it, she bounced in with a sleeping bag under one arm and a doll in the other. Ellie waved to her mother in the car before closing the door.

"So what do you want to do first tonight?" Ellie asked Bryar.

"I want to bake cookies with you."

"Yay! That sounds like so much fun! I'll get the bowl and ingredients and you find the biggest spoon you can in that box, okay?"

"OK! How big does it have to be?"

"As big as the moon. That way we can stir all the cookie dough really fast and get to eat the cookies sooner."

"How big is the moon?"

"Really, really big."

"Then how does it fit in this box?"

"You know, you are really smart. I bet it can't fit in that box. How 'bout you find the second biggest spoon?"

"How big is that one?"

"It's pretty big, but it fits in the box."

Bryar pulled out a big, plastic mixing spoon and held it up enthusiastically. "Like this one?"

"That's the ONE! Good job, Bry!"

Ellie and her little sister mixed up the ingredients and then tried to shape the raw dough into animals on the cookie tray, without the aid of cookie cutters. While somewhat of an epic failure, it had them laughing so hard that it turned out to be one of the best ideas ever.

While the cookies baked, Bryar got her pajamas on and picked out a movie. She chose The Little Mermaid, which happened to be one of Ellie's all-time favorite cartoon movies as well. During the movie, the timer on the stove went off and Ellie grabbed the cookies, their deformities once again making them laugh.

When the movie was over, Ellie laid out the sleeping bag for herself and let Bryar have the bed. She kissed Bryar goodnight and tucked her in. Ellie laid on top of the tiny sleeping bag on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. Though it was quiet, the penetrating silence was gone, but it was still different. She was four years into adulthood, but there was something about having her own apartment that brought the reality right up close in an undeniable way. She was completely responsible for everything now. As exciting as that thought was, that is how equally terrifying it was. She realized she was already missing the security of living with her parents. A tear rolled down her face and she quickly wiped it away.

"Ellie?" Bryar's sweet voice called through the dark to her big sister.

"Yes?"

"How come you don't live with mommy and daddy and me anymore?"

She felt the tears welling up even stronger now, but forced a steady voice. "I grew up and when you grow up sometimes you get your own house."

"Why?"

Ellie, at that moment, wasn't exactly sure why. "I guess it's like getting a bigger room? Getting a bigger room would be fun, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah...but why couldn't you get a bigger room in mommy's house?"

"There weren't any more rooms. So I got this one, which is really close to mommy's house and it means we get to have these cool sleepovers sometimes. You like that part, right?"

"Yeah!" Bryar was then quiet for a moment before another question surfaced within her. "Are you still my sister, though?"

"I am always your sister. I am always here for you. You never have to worry about that, OK?"

"OK. I would be scared if I didn't live with mommy, though. Are you scared?"

Ellie swallowed hard. "Just a little tiny bit," Ellie said.

Bryar leaned over the edge of the bed and handed her doll to her big sister. "You can sleep with my dolly tonight 'cause then you won't be afraid. I love you, Ellie. 'Night."

"I love you, Bry. 'Night."

Tears streamed down Ellie's face and there was no point in trying to stop them. She silently conceded and eventually pulled a sheet up to her chin. She wrapped her arms around the doll, curled up tightly and fell asleep.

# THEIR MEN

~ 2 ~

The next morning, after Ellie dropped Bryar off at school, she drove to Miner's Park to go for a jog. It was an actual mining site a very long time ago, which was partially responsible for it's current topography. The paths meandered over knolls and bridges, around small boulders and large, old oak trees and intermittently alongside a stream that travelled a twisted trajectory through the lush green landscape. There were hidden spaces everywhere: natural benches overlooking small ponds, secret flower-filled meadows and even tunnels of shrubbery. The entire park was enclosed by a stone wall, except for the main entrance, which was an imposing black wrought iron archway containing two large iron gates. They were always open, despite the park closing at sunset.

The park was in the northern part of the town, which was run down and had a fairly high crime rate, the complete opposite of the rest of the town of Isolde's Tyme. Despite some progress from revitalization efforts, the park was still one of the few nice places in the area. Ellie thought it was too beautiful not to frequent.

After her jog, she drove closer to the center of town to a little coffee shop, which she also liked to frequent. It looked quaint from the outside, but inside it was design brilliance of iron and wood and brick. The lighting was raw and steampunk. The textures were a melding of silk and burlap. Each table was hand carved from historic, reclaimed wood which sat upon ornate iron bases. There was a fireplace inside which was run from September through April. It was antique brick with an I-beam mantle that held a collection of very expensive and elegant coffee cups and urns hailing from around the world and throughout the last hundred years. Sacks of coffee beans, grinders and other coffee paraphernalia decorated the inside. It was warm and inviting, but captivating in a way you never tired of looking at. Most importantly, much of what they served was exceptional.

Ellie walked in to Gracie's Grind. It was named after the owner, Beth's, mother. She walked up to the counter and waited for Beth to see her.

"Hey, Ellie! How are you today, sweetie?" Beth said, with exuberance.

"I'm well, thanks. How are you?"

"I'm just great! I'm breathing, my arms are working and my hair isn't half bad today! Now, what's better than that, I ask you?"

Ellie laughed.

"What can I get ya, hun?"

"Vanilla chai latte, please?"

"You got it! Go grab a seat and I'll bring it over to you."

Beth sped off to make the tea and Ellie found a seat in the corner by the window. It had been a sunny morning, but the clouds were moving in and it looked as though it might rain. Ellie was fine with that. She liked the occasional rainy or gloomy day, especially today when she could go home, put in a movie and continue her unpacking.

"Here ya go, sweetie. One vanilla chai latte. I threw a little whipped cream on there for ya, too!"

"Thanks, Beth!"

Beth sped off again to her counter. She was in her early forties, with two young children at home. Her husband, a soldier, had been killed just after their second child was born. Beth held down two jobs before the coffee shop picked up and struggled to provide for her family, but she never complained. She was a hard worker, positive and always had a smile on her face. Most would have thought the whole matter tragic, but Beth was proud of her husband and supported him. She felt the best way to honor him was to understand that he died for something he believed in, and to raise their children to be good people. She did both exceedingly well. Beth always had a kind word for her customers, but she, like her late husband, stood up for what she believed in.

Ellie read an ibook on her phone, as she sipped her chai. The sound of the rain starting caused her to finish it a little faster than she would have otherwise and she went to the counter to pay. While she was waiting for Beth to finish up with some customers, Gretchen walked in the door and directly to Ellie. "Well, look who it is. It's Ellie. The girl who was named after a letter of the alphabet."

"Ellie is a nickname," Ellie said, looking toward Beth and wishing she would hurry. Gretchen had gone to college with Ellie and had given her a hard time from day one. She gave most people a hard time, it was just who she was. Gretchen walked around with a permanent smirk on her face to complete her prissy attitude. She had a few close friends who were equally obnoxious, but most people either tried to suck up to her to stay in her good graces or avoid her wrath completely. Ellie wasn't a fighter and was a bit shy, so she had managed to become a constant target for Gretchen. Consequently, it got worse when Ellie won a role in a musical that Gretchen had been vying for. Though Gretchen was a decent dancer, she was materialistic and devoid of any real emotions, so her dancing was flat; there was no personality or life to it. Ellie had hoped that graduating from college would mean an end to her run-ins with Gretchen. Sadly, that wasn't the case.

"A nickname for what?" Gretchen pressed. "Elephant? Smelly? Elbow? Is your name Elbow?"

The worst part was that Gretchen wasn't the least bit clever, so all of her nagging was like fingernails on a chalkboard, though occasionally she would surprise you and deliver an insult that packed a punch.

"Yes, my name is Elbow," Ellie said, unamused, trying to wave down Beth, who looked throughly engrossed in conversation. She did work off of tips, but Ellie would have gladly paid her whatever the couple she was talking to was going to tip if she would have just ditched them and saved her.

"Well, Elbow, you can tell me what it really stands for or I can just call you Elbow from now on."

Ellie finally looked her in the eye. "Ryell. My name is Ryell."

"What kind of name is that? No wonder you can't get any dancing roles. Everyone would think you were a man. A man with a strange name," Gretchen taunted, in a whiny voice.

"Well, thank you for solving that for me. Now I can focus on a desk job and save myself the hassle."

"Don't get snotty with me, Ry-elbow."

Beth finally saw Ellie and indicated she would be right there.

"Oh, I heard about your little injury," Gretchen continued. "My friend had the same thing happen to her and she never danced again. In fact, I was doing some research and it turns out no one with that injury ever returned to an athletic career. Looks like you will be stuck at a desk job either way."

Beth appeared in time to catch the end of Gretchen's cruel verbal attack. "That'll be $3.50, hun."

Ellie handed her a five. "Keep it." Beth tried to give her change, insisting it was too much of a tip, but Ellie refused, smiled and started to the door. "Have a great day, Beth!"

"You too, sweetie. I'll see you soon. You stay dry out there!"

Gretchen stared at Beth, as if to say she was taking an insufferable amount of time to wait on her. Beth finally turned to Gretchen.

"I'm sorry, dear, the registers are closed."

"What do you mean, they are closed? People are ordering down there," Gretchen insisted.

"They called in their orders. Everyday for one hour, we close down the registers so they don't overheat. Can I suggest the cafe two blocks down?"

Beth began wiping down the work station, as if the conversation was over.

"That is such garbage. See if you get away with it! I wouldn't buy anything here anyway, now that I know you are friends with Elbow."

Gretchen stormed out, her four inch heels smacking the ground like an angry stilt-walker. Beth shook her head, though smiling because she had gotten rid of her.

Ellie jogged through the rain to her Jeep and drove back to the cottage. When she got home, she took a warm shower, partly because she had gone jogging that morning and partly to symbolically wash off the Gretchen residue. When she finished she threw on some light clothes and put on a DVD, once again finding the contentment she had found earlier at the thought of a quiet day at home, putting together her new apartment.

About thirty minutes later, she heard a knock at the door. She walked over and opened it. Before she could even look up, she felt an arm around her waist and a hand quickly cover her mouth.

"You should NEVER open the door to a stranger," her boyfriend said, in his most menacing voice.

"You're insane," Ellie laughed, once he removed his hand from her mouth. "I'm not sure what I ever saw in you."

"Let me remind you," John insisted, taking her in his arms again. He kissed her passionately, but it ended all too quickly.

"Hmmm, not much of an argument, if you ask me," Ellie pointed out, sarcastically.

"Oh yeah?"

"Wow, powerhouse comeback there, John. I think I'm starting to remember."

With that remark he began tickling her and then kissing her, which caused her to give in to exactly what she wanted anyway: to be in his arms.

His touch was magic. The first time he ever touched her arm, he had her full attention and she watched him closely for a full year before their first date. Though he would be unlikely to admit it, he had watched her too.

She had joined a tumbling class of which he was already a part. He was a little over-weight and looked older than his age, in a run-down kind of way. He stood out slightly to her, but she couldn't find a logical reason why, so Ellie hadn't really taken notice other than to assign him a story in her mind: single, middle-aged, small apartment, pizza for dinner every night. And that was the end of it, until one day she was stretching and he came over to her. Before she realized it, he had laid his hand on her arm, in the softest way imaginable and she melted. She had never in her life felt a touch so perfect.

"Here. If you turn your hand like this you will get a better stretch. Feel it all through here?" He lifted his hand as softly as he had placed it. He smiled broadly at her, with the slightest hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Ellie had just smiled and thanked him, at a complete loss for further words. It continued to build from there, first with small talk and then building to deeper conversation and playful innuendo. One day Ellie found a blue hand on a stick, which John promptly ripped out of her hands with a few taunting remarks. Ellie went to get it back from him and they ended up wrestling over it. As John's cheek brushed against hers, she felt a heat ignite inside of her unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Instances like that continued; anything that made a good excuse to be closer to each other. Of course, being in a class, even a gym class, it had to appear family-friendly, but within their own minds, there was heat and magic and power.

It turned out the story she assigned him was wrong. He was only a couple years older than she was. He was an athlete and had joined the class to get back in shape. He had his own place, but the pizza-every-night assumption was not far off. The worn look he attributed to his last girlfriend, who apparently was some kind of monster in human skin.

John's looks did not appeal to Ellie originally, but he did have a contagious laugh and a brightness and wonder to his eyes that she admired and which made her completely relax. When he laughed and looked at her with those life-filled blue eyes, nothing in the world could be wrong. There was definitely an attraction, a 'je ne sais qua'. He quickly grew on her. He was over six feet and extremely strong, though you could not necessarily guess it to look at him. He had light brown hair in a crew cut. While style was not his strong point, he was always so relaxed in his gym pants or jeans that you could not help but be happy that he dressed in the comfortable way that he did.

It was over a year and a half since they met and six months since they officially started dating, but she still got butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him. Despite the disappointment he often caused and the slow growth of their relationship, she kept falling more and more deeply in love with him. When it was good, it was great.

Now, he sat long ways on the couch and she leaned against him, wrapped in his arms, wishing he was not about to hop up and run off to work, but knowing he was. In the past six months she had become very familiar with his ways. He'd stop by, they'd kiss and talk and make out some and then he'd have to run.

"Are you gonna be around tomorrow?" He looked at Ellie, hopefully.

"Yeah, probably."

"All right, I'll try to swing by tomorrow." And with that he was headed out the door.

Ellie was not thrilled about the way he would "swing by" or make plans for lunch and then cancel at the last minute. John had several jobs, none of which were going well, so work did take up a lot of his time. It also threw a wrench in their plans often. But there was an almost bi-polar switching in him between wanting to spend time with her, almost _needing_ to be in her presence, and an aloofness, perfectly honed to avoid any deep emotional question or commitment. She hadn't yet given him everything he wanted. She wanted to be sure he loved her first. He did seem to genuinely enjoy being with her. She surmised that maybe his delay was because he was a bit shell-shocked because of his ex-monster. That satisfied her enough. For now.

Not 30 seconds after John had left Ellie's apartment, in walked Scotlyn, Ellie's best friend since kindergarten. She was 5'6" and 119 pounds. Though often in a skirt or dress, she was actually quite athletic, in excellent shape and not afraid to get her hands dirty. A true beauty, she had porcelain skin, green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. Her features were delicate, complimented by her natural grace and poise. Though sweet and bright, she sometimes had a sharp tongue and often a quick wit. She had worked only half a day, so she decided to visit Ellie.

"Perfect timing," Ellie said to Scotlyn, not at all surprised that she just walked right in without knocking.

"It was only perfect timing because I sat in the car for 20 minutes. Thank goodness he's so ADHD," she said, jokingly. "Is he still afraid of the dark?" Scotlyn asked, referring to the damage done by his ex.

"Yeah, I think so," Ellie laughed, though not actually amused by the reality of it. "He says she was pretty horrible."

"Then why did he stay with her so long?"

Trying to ignore the fact that her friend made a good point, Ellie brushed it off. "They had ties or something that he needed to be delicate about breaking. I don't know."

"It all seems pretty messed up to me. I'm not saying you guys don't make a cute couple, I'm just saying that something about him is a bit...don't hate me...wishy-washy."

"And where, pre tell is your perfect man today?"

"He's repenting. Loudly."

Scotlyn's boyfriend, Trent, had a bittersweet life. As a child, he was adopted by a loving couple and life was good. When he turned eight, his parents were in a car accident on their way to pick him up from the babysitter. His adoptive mother was killed instantly and his father, Paul, completely fell apart. He blamed himself for the accident and blamed Trent for being the reason they were driving that night to begin with. His father became very withdrawn and depressed. The only time he had any fight in him was after he'd been drinking, which was a daily routine. He released a lot of that fight on Trent, who grew up afraid to make a wrong move. When Trent hit his teenage years, he found some solace in drugs, but the heavier he got into them, the angrier he got. One night, when he was 22, his adoptive father approached Trent, feeling that fight within him. Trent snapped and fought back for the first time. The next thing he knew, he was sitting next to a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, with Paul in a coma.

Trent spent every day after work in the hospital, terrified of what would happen, but more terrified of what had happened within himself. He did not know he could feel such rage and his only solace was in the thought that maybe it was the drugs and not really who he was. The passing days were both tortuous and therapeutic. Guilt weighed heavily on Trent's mind, softening his heart and allowing him to see the situation more clearly, but it wasn't until the night Paul opened his eyes that the real revelation came. Trent sat at his bedside, barely breathing, as his father slowly looked over to him, water filling his now-open eyes. As he tried to speak, but couldn't, Trent's heart sank. He had felt love and he had felt hate from this one man, but he had never seen vulnerability in him. It was as if all his father's rage had finally given way to a pain that was bigger than himself, and he had surrendered to it fully. There was almost relief in his eyes as he lay there helpless and broken and it came to a shock to Trent that he did not hate this man. He understood him. That realization was almost unbearably painful in that it came too late.

Logically, Trent knew that his father's actions were not OK, but he could not make peace with that fact that he permanently took from a man whom had already been so painfully taken from. If he had gone back to his old self after the fight, it might have been different. The permanence was a relentless reminder of a hate that Trent could not bear having felt.

After that incident, Trent stopped taking drugs and changed his focus. He found a way to put himself through college and became the student he had never been. He was determined to get his masters in psychology. He didn't come off as a "save the world" type, or as someone who had a mission to make sure this never happened to another person, but to anyone who knew him well, each thing he did had a more focused purpose, as a result. He did want to help others, but Scotlyn suspected he needed to free himself by finding out why people remain suspended in agony. He believed that answer might be found in the mind.

Scotlyn's answer was less about making fun of her good-deed-doing-boyfriend and more about keeping things light. She didn't think the answers he sought were going to be found in the same muck that produced the questions.

Scotlyn's mind returned to the present, but not before Ellie repeated the question. "So _where_ is he today?"

"He volunteered for some research study that is exploring if there is a correlation between people with Alzheimer's and a higher than normal level of stress or traumatic events in their life. He's been there since 6am and he called earlier to say he was going to stay on a bit longer," Scotlyn answered. "He's bonding with his mouse."

"Wow, soul-less! I can't believe you referred to some poor, sweet elderly person that way," Ellie said, laughing out loud, knowing Scotlyn was in fact a very loving person, who just had a very warped sense of humor and firmly believed that people take themselves too seriously.

"Speaking of poor, sweet elderly people, how's the job going?"

Ellie had taken a side job cutting grass at a cemetery. It was just one day a week and pretty decent money. In addition, she actually enjoyed her time there. Ellie loved being outside, but there was more to it than that. There was a quiet mystery in the cemetery and a softness to the curiosity surrounding its residents. She wondered about each person's story and what they would say if she could speak to them now. It all felt very peaceful and allowed her mind to wander in a very relaxed way.

"Great! In fact they were looking for a gravedigger and I knew you could use the extra money, so I gave them your name."

"What?!" Scotlyn sat up straighter, her long strawberry blonde hair falling forward over her shoulder.

"Yeah, they said they had been trying to fill the position for months and the bodies were piling up, so no interview required. You can start tomorrow!"

"You're full of crap. At first I thought you might have finally lost your mind, but now I know you are just full of it." Scotlyn laughed. "I don't think I'm cut out for graveyards. But you know that."

"I'm starving and I don't feel like anything I can make. So ,where are we going for food?"

Ellie was actually a pretty good cook. She loved making meals from scratch and especially baking. She loved all ways and things historical, anything with a story. Scotlyn would usually tease her about it, even though she could understand Ellie's reasons. On their way to the cafe, Scotlyn started with her.

"So what's with the not wanting any of your own food remark you made before? You are about one step away from Amish when it comes to cooking and such. By the way, when _are_ you going Amish?"

"Umm, as soon as Hollister becomes acceptable clothing within the ordnung."

"You love that stuff. I thought you were so Laura Ingalls?"

"As long as Laura has an iPhone, I'm all about her. I like things simpler and natural, that's all. It doesn't automatically make me Amish."

"You have to admit, and I love it about you, but you are a bit contrary. How would you explain yourself to someone if they asked? So, a guy comes up to you, sits down and asks you what you are about. You say...?"

"I say that I already have a guy and it's none of his business what I am about."

"Funny. Let's say you are single, though."

"I don't know? Do I like him? I mean, is he good-looking? Do I actually want him to stay?"

"Yes, you do."

"That's easy. I lie," Ellie laughed.

"That would be your best bet, I agree."

Ellie hit Scotlyn for her comment, despite also laughing at the joke. Ellie could appreciate a good dig, even if it was at her own expense. Even more, she appreciated her best friend's comedic timing and believability. Scotlyn usually delivered her sarcasm and witty retorts with a straight face, sometimes offending people who didn't know her well enough to know she was only joking.

"OK, OK. A guy starts talking to me and I want him to stay. I would say....I am a dancer and I...I...really don't know," she laughed. "This is too weird. I feel like it's an interview instead of a date. I would probably just tell him about you and go shopping. You can be the one to stay there and describe yourself to Mr. Sits-on-a-whim."

"That leaves me with all the men," Scotlyn said.

"That leaves me with all the clothes," Ellie replied.

"That means your single," Scotlyn smirked.

Ellie laughed, "That means you're naked."

# HEALING A BROKEN DREAM

~ 3 ~

The next day, John called Ellie to see if she was home. She was about to leave for physical therapy, but he insisted on picking her up and driving her there. He had to work later, so at least this would allow him to spend some time with her. It made Ellie feel good that he wanted to see her and she easily agreed.

When his car pulled up, she hopped in and gave him a kiss. She loved when he did little things that showed he cared for her. John wasn't always great with emotions, so that meant his gestures had to speak for him. They were sometimes few and far between but usually sincere. When he did something nice for Ellie, he would have a childlike youthfulness on his face, hoping she liked it, hoping he had made her feel good. It was endearing and a glimpse at his real, unfettered self.

"So how is the ankle?" John asked.

"It's all right. I still have a ways to go though and I'll probably be doing it on my own, because this is my last therapy session."

"But it's helping?"

"Yeah, it's helping. I wish it would work faster, though. I want to dance again."

"You'll get there. I'll help you."

Ellie loved the sentiment, but she knew that it would probably not come to pass. John often intended to do more than he physically had time to do, or the attention span to do, for that matter.

"Thanks! It feels like the tumbling class is actually helping a lot. It always feels better when I get home from the gym. I'm not doing anything crazy yet, but I almost think it's helping more than therapy. PT just makes it hurt."

"Good, then keep tumbling. Just don't push it before you're ready. Nice double backs the other day, by the way."

"Thanks. You saw those? It was just on the trampoline and I had the belt on."

"That doesn't matter. Just because you are on a belt and the coach can keep you from crashing, doesn't mean it isn't fully you up there executing that skill. You got it the first few times you tried it. I was watching you. That's incredible, El. Who does that?" John insisted.

"Oh, you were watching me, were you?" Ellie smiled coyly. As John slowed at the red light, he pulled her to him and kissed her.

"Yes, I was, Miss Ellie."

When they arrived at the physical therapist's, John let her off at the door. "What time are you finished?"

"In an hour."

"When I pick you up, we'll go get some ice cream."

Ellie smiled widely. Even more than ice cream, she loved that John was so available and interested in being with her today. He was so much better than he used to be. It had taken him a while to let his guard down and even now, he would have better days than others, due in part to the fact that his ex still hovered, causing him grief where she could.

There were still issues with his ex. She was still in the picture due to shared debt, his former company, of which she was now owner, and because she wanted him back, though you couldn't guess why from the condescending way she spoke to him, often publicly. He told Ellie it was because he needed to cut ties with minimal damage, but the way John catered to his ex's every demand was a constant source of tension for Ellie. It also felt bound to the reason they never seemed to feel like a real couple— to the reason he never seemed totally free to be with Ellie.

"I'll see you later. Thanks for the ride."

Ellie waved as he pulled away, before entering the building. She had been coming here for five months in the hopes of saving her potential career, her dream.

In college, Ellie had majored in dance. She was 5'5" with blue eyes and auburn hair that came down to the middle of her back. Her skin was fair but lightly tanned and she was thin but toned, very much having a dancer's body. Her dream had always been to dance professionally. All of her life, her teachers told her she was exceptional and encouraged her strongly. Focused and determined, she had spent hours practicing daily.

One day, her teacher, Miss Lori, pulled her aside after class and told her that a casting agent would be observing the class the next day. Though Ellie never missed a class, her teacher wanted to be certain that she was there, telling Ellie she thought she had a real shot at being offered the chance to audition for an upcoming movie they were casting. The film required several professional-level dancers and was the reason the casting agent was visiting a number of dance programs in the area.

Ellie could not even sleep that night. This was the very moment she had been working toward since she was six years old. It was hard to believe it was really here, that she might actually be presented with the opportunity to dance in an actual movie. Ellie lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the scenario again and again in her head. She was ready. She was so ready.

The next day, despite little sleep, she jumped out of bed and readied herself for class, feeling nervous and excited, but ultimately confident this was her moment. She arrived at class an hour early to get in some extra warm-up time and hopefully relax into the calm focus she was all too practiced at and within which she was at her best. By the time the others had begun arriving, she was in the zone.

Class went as usual, as it was not a formal audition, but in her mind— in her every pirouette, her every switch leap— Ellie was auditioning. Some of the other girls were gossiping and chattering whenever they were not actively dancing, but Ellie was serious, focused, beautiful. Inside, she was secretly in all her glory. This is what she was meant to do and she felt it with every fiber of her being.

At the end of the class, Ellie took her time getting her things together, hoping the agent would call her aside. She tossed her duffle bag over her shoulder and walked toward the door, pretending she had no stake in the outcome. Many of the others had taken their hair down, but Ellie kept hers in a bun. She hoped it would make her look like she took her craft seriously. Just before she reached the door, she heard her teacher call her back. Miss Lori was standing beside the agent, looking over some papers on a clipboard and exchanging quiet dialogue. As Ellie approached, slowly but confidently, she could feel her heart beating strongly within her chest, her palms growing sweaty.

"You are quite the dancer, Miss Mayfield," the agent said.

"Thank you, ma'am. I truly love it."

"Well, it shows. I don't know how much your teacher told you, but I am in charge of casting several dancers for a film. All of the info you need is here," she said, matter-of-factly, as she handed Ellie a piece of paper. "I would like you to audition."

"Thank you. I would be honored."

"Wonderful, then we will see you on Monday, 7am."

"I'll be there," she said, trying not to smile as widely as she feared she was. Before Ellie finished her last remark, the woman had already turned back to the teacher to continue their dialogue in the same hushed tone. Ellie turned toward the door and finally allowed herself to smile fully, but managed to keep the screams of excitement under wraps. Once she walked out the door and turned around the corner, she could no longer contain herself. She squealed, jumping up and down, on fire with exhilaration. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

Ellie raced home, skipping a lecture she was supposed to attend. On the way home, she called three friends, John, her parents, her great aunt, her neighbor and someone in Tokyo. The call to Japan was accidental, but she shared her news anyway and was happy someone on the other side of the world knew. That seemed apropos to her elated state of mind. But that was the last anyone heard from her for the next five days. The guy in Tokyo didn't seem to notice her absence but her friends definitely missed her. John and her had just started officially seeing each other and he was beside himself, unfamiliar with silence from her. She could see it in his eyes when she told him about her unavailability that week. He understood she had this important audition, but the absence made him miss her a lot more than he wanted to admit to himself. Though that was not her intention, Ellie saw it as a perk.

For the next five days, Ellie lived and breathed dance. She kept her normal class schedule, which included three hours of dance, but afterwards her teacher allowed her to continue for a couple more hours, helping her in any way she could. Ellie then stopped at the gym for an hour before heading home, where she continued to practice on her own. Ellie's father, finally convinced that she was serious about dance, had built her a small dance floor in the basement, complete with barre and mirror for her twelfth birthday. She had never been more grateful to have that as she was now and gave her father a big hug.

Her teacher told her not to overdo it, stating there was a such thing as training too much, but Ellie had no intention of cutting back. She felt invincible. More than ever before, all she wanted to do was dance.

Monday morning came. At 4am, having barely slept an hour, Ellie hit her alarm clock quickly so it wouldn't wake her parent. She had spent the night back at home instead of her dorm, because she wanted to get an hour of warm-up and light practice in before getting ready and driving the thirty minutes to the audition location. When she was satisfied enough, she hopped in and out of the shower, pulled her hair neatly into a tight bun and put on her carefully chosen outfit: a leo and tights, with a cute skirt on top and a midriff shirt. She brought her ballet slippers and her hip hop sneakers. She grabbed a bandana and a few other accessories. Ellie wanted to be prepared for any type of dance they wanted her to perform.

On her way out her mother tried to convince her to eat something, but Ellie just gestured to her apple and disappeared behind the door. She caught the words 'Break a leg' as it closed behind her. "Thanks," she yelled from outside, rushing down the walkway. She climbed into her Jeep, set her GPS and took off down the road. The whole way there, she listened to music, trying to keep her mind off the fact that her dream was within reach. She found the place with ease and parked in the area described on the piece of paper the agent had handed her five days earlier.

Once inside, Ellie noticed all of the other girls and guys in the room, some seemingly calm and others unmistakably nervous. She tried not to look too closely at anyone. The guys looked like they just stepped out of a GQ magazine and some of the girls were intimidatingly gorgeous. There were a few clunkers, so if Ellie had to look up, she tried to look there. Breathing deeply, she waited as, one by one, the dancers were called in, while the rest of them waited in controlled anticipation. Finally, Ellie heard her name. "Ellie Mayfield," a woman said, appearing from behind the door of the sacred room. Ellie stood, surprised that her knees felt a little like pudding, since she had felt fairly confident just moments before.

She walked into the room, hesitantly at first. Then, remembering her teacher's wisdom, immediately straightened her posture and reclaimed her confidence. She walked right over to the center of the audition space and spoke clearly and proudly, "Good morning. I'm Ellie Mayfield."

A man looked up from a piece of paper and jumped right into his instructions for her. "Ellie, we're going to have you let your hair down for this audition. The film will require a mixture of hip hop, modern jazz and all of your ballet skill sets. If you brought a hip-hop shoe, please change into that now."

Ellie was already wearing hers. She reached up and pulled the bobby pins from her hair. Upon removing the last one, a wave of auburn fell like silk around her shoulders, red and blonde highlights shining under the overhead lights. Her blue eyes were bright and clear, accentuated by a soft, skillfully-smudged line of charcoal eyeliner. A clear mascara and light pink lip gloss gave her a fresh, clean look and punctuated her natural beauty.

"I'm ready."

"Ms. Hunter is going to show you what to do."

A woman walked in front of Ellie and ran through the choreography twice. Without saying another word, she walked off the floor and took a seat by the wall.

"Are you ready, Miss Mayfield," the same gentleman said, without the normal uncertainty that a question usually carries.

"Yes, I am ready," she said, not feeling like she had much choice even if she hadn't been ready.

The music started. All of the choreography Ellie had just seen was suddenly inside of her, playing itself through her, without a thought on her part. She skillfully performed the mix of ballet and hip hop, masterfully enhancing the already creative choreography with a sultry presence that answered exactly what the clean, but suggestive scene called for. Her lines, her expressions, her control; it was the perfect mix of power and grace, of innocence and attitude, of subtlety and edginess. It was urban elegance. And she coined it.

When the last beat released her body, she felt herself slowly awakening back into the rigid bleakness of the room. It was colorless and mute in comparison with the fluidity and vibrational radiance of the world she was just in. Once fully re-emerged, she let her eyes rest upon the man sitting in front of her, who was now jotting something down. Ellie was surprisingly calm, mentally numb from the juxtaposition between the heightened experience of her performance and the stoic atmosphere in the room.

They had Ellie run some lines, first on her own and then with another person from the room. Once again, they sat in silence for several seconds, one of them hurriedly scribbling things onto a piece of paper, while another typed at quite a clip on a laptop.

"We will let you know, Miss Mayfield. Thank you."

A lady near the door gestured to Ellie to follow her, which she did. Once out of the room, without so much as a word to Ellie, she called the next name and disappeared behind the door with a new bundle of nerves in tow. Not sure what to think, Ellie headed to school, distracting herself with very loud music. As much as she tried to put it out of her mind, Ellie found it very hard to concentrate on anything for the rest of the afternoon.

After her last class, she headed over to where John was working. First, she had to text him to find out where that was. He had so many jobs, she couldn't keep track of the schedules. Today it happened to be Dave's Auto Parts. The owner, Dave, had a large garage off the back of the store where he would fix and restore vintage motorbikes. John would occasionally take on one of the restorations when Dave's plate was too full. The money was decent, but the time was intensive. The flexibility appealed to John though. He could squeeze in time in the shop between other jobs and even come in late at night to put some hours in.

Just as Ellie turned down the alley that led to the auto parts store, her phone rang. She quickly pulled over while fumbling to get the phone.

"Hello?" Ellie answered, eagerly.

"Miss Mayfield?"

"Yes, this is Ellie Mayfield."

"Hello, Miss Mayfield. This is Dean from Hollan Casting. I'm calling to let you know that you were chosen to be one of the lead dancers in the movie you auditioned for this morning. Congratulations, Miss Mayfield. I am about to email you all of the info you will need. Can you confirm your email address please?"

"Yes, yes, thank you. Of course." Ellie gave them her email address.

"Thank you, Miss Mayfield. We will be in touch."

"Thank you." As quickly as that, the conversation was over.

Ellie sat there in complete shock over what had just transpired; it was surreal to her. As she sat there, disbelief slowly gave way to nervousness and finally exhilaration. She threw the Jeep in gear and sped off down the rest of the alley, turning into the garage lot at the end. Ellie leaped out of the vehicle, not even closing the door and ran to the silhouette of John that appeared behind the frosted glass window.

"John, open the door," she yelled, with excitement while pounding her first on the cold metal of the industrial door.

"Hey, what's going on?" John opened the large metal door, surprised to see her. "I'm working, I thought you knew."

Ellie threw her arms around his neck and proudly let out, "Guess what!"

"Umm, you won the lottery?"

"No. Better than that?" Ellie replied.

"What's better than that?" John asked, rhetorically.

"Really? Aren't there things that are better than winning the lottery?"

"Not in my world," John answered, looking down to the floor and scratching his head. After a moment, he looked back up to Ellie. "Sorry, that didn't include you." He stepped toward her, gently placing his hands on her waist.

Unable to hold it inside any longer, she blurted out, "I am going to be in a movie!"

"What? Are you serious?" He knew her well enough to know she was. Letting his arms slowly drop from her waist, he continued, "Where? Do you have to leave?"

Slightly less boisterous, she answered, "I don't know yet. They are emailing me the info, but I think it is being shot in the city, so I don't think I have to _leave_ leave. Isn't that awesome, though?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's awesome. I'm happy for you." And he was, just not as happy as he was worried that it would mean not being able to see her as much, not that it was much now. But it would no longer be on his terms, so to speak. "When are they emailing you?"

"I don't know. Soon, I assume."

He gave her a hug and she grinned widely. "It's really great news. You're really good. I'm not surprised they picked you."

"Thanks!" She lingered in his arms, even as he started to relax away. Finally she let go and looked up at him, the excitement slowly fading as he went back to tinkering on the bike, taking up conversation about a time he and his best friend had taken their bikes out to someplace and did something where something happened and something, the end. At least that's what Ellie heard. She was usually an excellent listener and truly cared about what he had to say, but this was supposed to be her moment. It was supposed to be bigger than some dumb bike story. Her demeanor had become solemn, her heart sinking, but she smiled thinly at the end of the story when his eyes met hers. She didn't want to be hurt. Not today. But he was oblivious or intentionally changing direction and, either way, she knew bringing it up would just shut him down completely. So she didn't let on. Instead she decided to seek out better company and try to reclaim as much of her excitement as she could.

"I'm...gonna get going. I have so much to do and figure out, ya know?"

"Yeah, OK. I'll talk to you later."

"OK." As Ellie opened the heavy metal door, she heard it, only it was the exact opposite of what she had hoped to hear.

"I would take you out or something, but I am stuck here tonight. I'll make it up to you." But usually that sentiment was meant to cement the fact that he had gotten out of it, while making sure there weren't going to be complications. Basically it bought him time for her to forget. In reality, it was just a protective mechanism when he felt pressure to do something. He needed to do things in his own time. It was not that John didn't truly care for Ellie, it was that, above all else, John cared for John. While this is something she had come to expect, she believed that when it really mattered that he would come through. Despite this display of evidence to the contrary, Ellie didn't want to give up on him. That could only be understood by her, by the one who knew how in sync they often were, how much they laughed, how incredible his arms felt around her. And she also knew how much his last relationship messed him up. For someone as unable to express deep emotion as John, he couldn't stop his eyes from giving it all away. Maybe he just needed more time, she concluded, at a loss for any other plausible reason for hope.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it," she said in a demure and convincingly sincere way. "I'll talk to you later." She closed the large metal door behind her, the sound of tools on metal in the background, and walked back to her Jeep, trying to erase her mind of the last ten minutes. She eventually succeeded and the rest of the day was one she would never forget, filled with the enthusiasm of those who loved her most: her friends and family.

Ellie spent the next four weeks trying to maintain her normal routine, all the while knowing her first day on the set was rapidly approaching. She had danced most of her life, and though she could act quite well, she never had, especially not in a movie. It was unnerving not knowing what to expect or if she would come off as amateurish and make a fool of herself. There were two weeks spent in the studio, learning choreography, going through the script and blocking with the other actors and dancers and otherwise being prepped for the first day of shooting. When the morning finally arrived, she was the most relieved about the fact that, at least after today, there would be no mystery left with which she could torture herself.

She arrived at the set nice and early. The day moved quickly and the amount of new information coming at her would have been overwhelming, save for the adrenaline that rushed through her body, making her feel almost super-human. She was passed from person to person, all part of a unified effort to transform her and the other actors into what the director had envisioned. With one final glance in the mirror, which shocked but mostly delighted Ellie, she was whisked away for her first scene. Though she was dressed in a leotard and tights, ballet slippers and a bun in her hair, which was all very normal to her, the precision with which they applied her make-up, the perfection of her hair, the quality of the wardrobe, all made Ellie feel like a princess. She was stunning. Her skin was flawless, her complexion radiant, her eyes sparkling. She looked as though she had just stepped out of a waterfall: fresh and clean and pure. Within, she was a reservoir of skill and talent and magnetism; despite her usual modesty, she knew it. She loved it.

The scene was to begin with Ellie performing a classical ballet piece under a single light, blackness surrounding her. She would be dancing on a platform, a few feet in height. Within less than a minute, the camera would pull back, revealing the light to be a street light and slowly several dancers in modern garb would make their way into the street, encircling Ellie. Upon noticing them and realizing where she was, she was to execute a difficult leap off the platform, at the height of which the music would powerfully change, calling for all of the others to begin dancing. Through them would walk an extremely gorgeous guy, who would sweep Ellie up and spin her around. She would continue to dance with him, her part of the hip hop dance being performed in pointe shoes. It was all very well choreographed and ingeniously creative, leading into a movie that would end up a hit among teens and young adults.

"Action!"

The light streamed down, first touching the sheen in her hair, then accentuating her softly blushed cheekbones and finally revealing her feminine body, moving gracefully with inspired elegance to a single violin. She entertained the light with the way she would pass through it with somber beauty; the light playing back by flowing seamlessly over every curve of her figure. The interchange was an abstraction far beyond what the writer's words could ever have procured on their own. On perfect pointe, she lingered on the last note, expressing the realization the script called for. As the violin's last tone reverberated away, Ellie leaped into the air, poignantly executing the breath-taking transition from classical distinction to urban passion, audibly punctuated by a powerful explosion of bass. She felt complete peace and purpose, as a fraction of a second defied its place in time, enduring for Ellie, and only for Ellie.

Coming out of the pose as quickly as she had entered it, her foot reached to the pavement. First her toe touched, then the ball of her foot and then all of her dreams. As her foot absorbed the landing, she felt her ankle twist and give, the cracking and snapping amplified behind her ears. She felt the tearing as it continued twisting on her way down to the blacktop, her other leg slamming hard against the ground. She stretched her arms out to slow the momentum and protect her head, scraping up her forearms in the process.

A cavalcade of people surrounded her, gasping and dialing and attending to her injuries, all in thunderous silence. The first sound she heard was her own breathing, fast and quivering. The next was the sound of her own voice screaming involuntarily into a new reality that could not be undone. The third was not a sound at all, but a pain that shot up her leg with such merciless fury, that it caused her to pass out.

As she lay in her hospital bed, she hardly spoke a word. Her friends and family surrounded her, but all she could hear were the doctors words repeating in her head, ' _It is a severe injury and even with surgery and therapy, there is a possibility it will not be able to support a career in dance_.' Ellie was devastated. There was no consoling her. She didn't shed a single tear, she just fell deep inside herself, processing it on her own— the way she needed to. It took her weeks before she came back around, but when she did, it was with a determination to recover fully. The thing that had compounded her depression was the news that the movie could not wait for her, especially since there was no guarantee she would be able to handle the role once she healed. For 49 seconds, she lived her dream so intensely, that now it haunted her. And Ellie did not want that to be her story.

Now, as Ellie sat in physical therapy with ice on her ankle, after having gone through all of her exercises, she was a little down on herself for not being completely better by now. Despite having to concentrate on her last few months of college, and working to save for her own place, her ankle had been her main focus. She did everything the doctor had told her, religiously, as well as some additional modalities her parents covered, like acupuncture and laser therapy. They did help. Her doctor informed her that he had not expected her to be able to dance again, even casually, but she now was and tumbling as well. Her progress was a definite exception to the norm, but it wasn't enough for Ellie. She had only just touched her dream. There was so much more she had to do and had spent her life training for. It still depressed her a little to think about it. She did her best not to let herself doubt that she would get back to 100%. It wasn't a thought she could bear. There was nothing else that Ellie could see herself doing as a career, nothing she loved so passionately and completely.

The timer beeped, signaling the therapist to remove the ice pack from Ellie's ankle.

"Well, you are free to go, Ellie. I am sorry we won't be seeing you here anymore, but I am also happy, if you know what I mean," her therapist said. "I hope you will keep in touch with me about your continued progress."

Ellie thanked her. She did feel grateful that she had someone so supportive and kind helping her to recover. It was her therapist who had suggested some of the additional treatments that had proven so beneficial to Ellie's mending. She really went above and beyond for her patients and Ellie wished nothing but the best for her.

As she exited the building, she felt a little despondent, not because she would miss therapy, but because a part of her worried that without it she might not achieve her full recovery. She tried to shake the feeling as she walked up to John's car.

"How did it go?"

"It went well. They were really nice about it being my last session."

"So, are you ready for ice cream?" John said, dramatically, trying to buoy her mood. It worked. Ellie revealing her bright smile, they drove off.

They spent over an hour enjoying their ice cream and each other's company. They talked about class and John revealed how much he admired her natural proclivity for gymnastics. One topic morphed into another and eventually she found herself listening to John confide in her about his work.

"I have to figure something out. I can't keep running around working four jobs and barely making enough to get by, let alone get ahead."

"What do you want to do?" Ellie asked. "I mean, if you could have any job in the world, what would it be?"

He thought about it for a while. "I'd like to own buildings and rent them to businesses. I'd like to be the landlord of the owners of the businesses that I now work for. I think that would suit me."

As it was, he felt like a failure. He had owned a small business, but his ex had ruined that for him and when they split she took it over. Since then, he had been trying to eke out a living until he could build something new, which left him feeling like he was living in limbo. Ellie was supportive, as always. The problem was, she believed in him more than he believed in himself. He had lost something to his last relationship that he was never quite able to regain. John naturally had a great spirit and he was full of energy and ideas, but now they were muted. He was too young, at 25, to be as jaded as he was. When he met Ellie, a large part of him came back to life, but a part remained limp, almost paralyzed. Most could not tell. He was usually laughing and joking, laid back and talkative. He didn't regularly think of himself as having a bad life at all. Any stress he did feel, he kept bottled up inside. Ellie was one of the only people who he let get close enough that she could see him clearly, or as clearly as his own fog would allow. Inside, he was deep and worried often, doubting his decisions and slowly allowing the best parts of himself to be buried by the incidents and stresses he accumulated without release. Despite Ellie's efforts, there was no comforting this part of him. But it didn't stop her trying.

# RE-ENTRY

~ 4 ~

John dropped Ellie off at her apartment after their ice cream date.

"Hey, do you want to hang out later?" John asked, as Ellie got out of his car.

"Yeah, I'd love to!"

"OK, I'll call you after work."

John drove away and Ellie went inside. She tripped over a box on the way in, which inspired an intense drive to unpack it and get it out of the tiny cottage. Every now and then, amidst the normal items, she would find an unusual item in the box: salad tongs, colander, salt and pepper shakers, Lego monkey...spatula, dishcloths, butter dish, Olaf figurine...mixing spoons, cheese grater, food timer, My Little Pony hairbrush. Ellie smiled. Apparently Bryar had helped her pack when she wasn't looking. She made a pile of the toys that she would need to return to her little sister.

Just as she was finishing up and about to set the box outside on the porch, her cell rang. It was her dance instructor from college. Miss Lori often remained in touch with her former students, alerting them to auditions and any information that might help them get their dance careers off the ground.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Ellie. How are you doing?"

"Pretty well, thanks."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. I am calling because I am aware of an opportunity that would be a good idea for you to consider. I understand that your ankle is not 100%, but that doesn't mean you have to stop auditioning. You have an excellent voice and you can act. There is an audition upcoming that has parts which call for those two skills, parts that don't require you to dance." Ellie scribbled the details down on the side of the empty box as her teacher read them to her. "I really think you should go out for this one. Building a name and a resume is important and it may help you land that dancing role in the future."

"Thank you, Ms. Lori. I will."

Ellie hung up and took a picture of what she wrote on the box so she would have the info in her phone. She hadn't considered auditioning for anything since her injury. She felt broken, like she was walking around without her main attribute and therefore had nothing to offer. But maybe her teacher was right. Despite the mixed feelings it brought up, she decided she would go to the audition. It was tomorrow afternoon.

She put the empty box out on the porch and threw the address into her GPS to plan out what time she would have to leave the next day. It was almost two hours away. She had the week off for her move and didn't have to be back to work until Monday. The timing was perfect. More than talking herself into it, she was trying not to let herself talk herself out of it.

Ellie began to daydream about the audition. Still not used to the silence of being on her own, she turned on some music. It wasn't long before the songs became the soundtrack of her daydreaming and she found herself dancing, easily, slowly and then more skillfully. She maneuvered through the small spaces, a visual crescendo. As the song changed, she added her own vocals to the mix. Ellie was feeling that fire starting to burn inside her again and it was exhilarating. She was becoming increasingly excited about the role, about feeling the adrenaline, about feeling life rushing through her. She wanted this.

John's text interrupted the sequence. ' _Hey, I can't make it later. Sorry._ '

The message tempered the excitement she had been feeling. She knew either he had to work later than expected, or Susan, his ex, had beckoned. Ellie feared in the pit of her stomach that it was the latter and so tried not to think about it. Her ankle was beginning to throb a little anyway, so she let the whole thing rest.

Ellie made herself a salad and grabbed a book to read. She was kidding herself. She couldn't focus and found herself re-reading the same paragraph five times. It was futile and she resigned to that fact. Normally she would have been fine, but it had been several months since she auditioned for anything and though she tried not to admit it, in her gut she knew she was not ready. Her ankle was not 100% and neither was her mind. She was afraid of re-injuring it and ruining her career. That repeated fear and belief that she was lacking her biggest attribute had seriously affected her overall self-confidence.

Ellie needed a distraction. She thought about calling Scotlyn, but knew she had something going on with Trent. She thought about calling Tyler, but she felt weird about it. There were a few other friends she could talk to or maybe even get together with, but she wasn't as close with them and felt like she would just be using them to distract herself from the anxiety. It was only five o'clock, so she couldn't go to bed. When the thought crossed her mind to drop in on the Mahoney's, she finally decided she had to snap herself out of this. She grabbed her backpack, hopped in the Jeep and drove to the gym.

She kept her workout light with a lot of stretching and swimming. Ellie didn't usually use weights, but since her injury she had begun to lightly, just until she could get back to her regular routine. Tonight was about loosening up her ankle and getting her mind off of of tomorrow's test. That's what it felt like to her— a test. It was a test to see if her acting and voice could stand alone without what she felt was her main strength; dance. She couldn't help feeling like she was going into it unequipped, naked.

Ellie did manage to pass a couple of hours. When she got home, she had a light dinner, showered and watched a movie before turning in. She tossed and turned but, eventually, did manage to fall asleep.

The next thing she knew her alarm was going off. She opened her eyes to see the rain pouring down outside so hard that it was coming through the screen of her open window and wetting the carpet. She jumped out of bed to get a towel and as her foot hit the floor she felt a twinge in her ankle. It was nothing serious, but it was enough to shake her confidence on a day when she needed all she could get.

She tried to put it out of her mind and proceeded to close the window and sop up as much water from the carpet as she could before going through her morning routine.

At 12:45, Ellie was locking her front door and leaving for the audition. She had a special playlist in her iPod for audition days. It was the perfect mix of music to get her both focused and psyched. She started that playing before pulling out of the driveway.

The GPS navigated for a little over two hours before delivering Ellie to her destination. The trip felt too short. Pretending she was ready, she got out of the Jeep and walked in the front door.

When she stepped inside, she was handed a script and directed to an area where she could sit and familiarize herself with a section of it. Ellie had an excellent memory, also photographic, but nervousness could erase it quickly. She felt as though she was trying to maintain that fourth wall even between her and herself. But whatever worked, was how she saw it.

"Ellie Mayfield," a voice called her name. She hadn't realized how much time had passed. She stood up promptly and walked toward a woman who was standing in the door frame of a half opened door. She assumed— hoped— this was the owner of the voice that called her name. As she neared her the woman smiled, causing Ellie to feel relieved that she surmised correctly.

Once inside, things began smoothly and Ellie relaxed some more. She answered some questions and then listened to the directions they gave her. First, she would read for a part. A tall, handsome male, who was seated against the wall, stood and walked over to Ellie. He was to read opposite her.

They acted the scene together and Ellie felt it went well. She was really beginning to enjoy herself and was eager to continue. They stopped her and then asked her to read a different section, one with which she was not familiar. In fact, it was an entirely different character. It was also a monologue, so her male co-actor took a seat by the wall again. She took a deep breath and began the cold reading. As she made her way through the lines, she found herself coming into the role more fully, feeling the freedom of expressing through entirely different parameters.

Ellie was extremely shy growing up, sometimes unable to even speak to her own relatives. As she got older, she got better, but even now as an adult, she was a little shy. Despite that, Ellie always managed to throw herself into things that seemed more suited to an extrovert. She was stretching herself, though it was usually more unconscious than an actual planned strategy for growth.

Finding it difficult to express herself, she often took to writing and other creative endeavors, but little compared to being in the spotlight of dance, acting, performing. She could speak, whether through words or movement; she could express things she only dreamed of communicating in her real life. She could be anybody or anything. It was when she felt most alive and, more importantly, the freest.

When she finished reading the section they had indicated, Ellie was told she would now demonstrate her singing ability. As the piano player's fingers danced over the keys, the melodic words flowed beautifully from Ellie, seeming to linger in the air. She didn't have a super high tone, but there was an angelic quality about her sound, as if she had a natural reverb.

She thought the audition was over, but instead they began talking to her about her dance training, as it was listed on her resume. They thought she would be an excellent fit to one of the lead roles— one which required a lot of dancing. Ellie should have been happy, but she was tense and gripped by uncertainty. She didn't want to come across as unprofessional, but she didn't feel ready to dance and certainly not at the level that the role and even the audition, would require. Unable to find her voice, she complied with their request to run through a section of the choreography.

As the instructor demonstrated the routine, Ellie struggled to absorb it. Her mind was volleying between the steps and whether she should tell them she could not do this. They knew about her injury, but it didn't stop them from asking her to audition for a dancing role.

It was Ellie's turn. The music began to play and she performed the steps she had just seen. Several times she had to be shown the next steps again, which only served to scatter her yet further. As she came to the more intense skills, she stopped. She literally could not make herself attempt them. Extremely embarrassed, Ellie apologized and explained that she did not feel ready to take on the choreography at this time. Her concern was acknowledged and the audition concluded.

Ellie exited the building and ran through the rain to her Jeep. It was such a downpour that she was drenched by the time she jogged the twenty feet to it and got inside. She sat there, soaking wet, thoroughly disappointed in herself. She wanted to cry and the water dripping down her face made it feel like she already was. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Ellie didn't want to cry, she wanted to fix this. She wanted to be whole again. For several minutes she flip-flopped between the determination that anger provided and the tears that overwhelment threatened. She looked at her phone, wishing someone would call and know, while being equally glad no one did. She set the GPS and got back on the road.

About an hour into her return drive, her phone did ring. It was her old teacher. She knew she was calling to see how the audition went. Ellie didn't have the heart to tell her that she blew it. The people running the casting hadn't told her that, but Ellie knew. She let it go to voicemail.

Ellie felt worse the more she thought about the audition. She knew she had that part. It was like being one inch from something you want so much. What was her alternative if she couldn't dance again? Continue the teaching job she had at a local dance studio? Share a desk with Chloe, taking phone calls all day? Teaching, she loved, but it only made her want to dance all the more, so there was a torturous element to it.

Ellie grabbed her phone and voice dialed as she drove through the pouring rain.

"Hi, this is Ellie Mayfield. I am wondering if there is any way Dr. Carter can see me today?"

"Is there a problem?" the receptionist asked.

"No, I am just hoping he can check my ankle."

"Let me take a look," the receptionist said.

There was a pause and then some cheesy music before the woman spoke again.

"He does have an opening in 30 minutes, if that will work for you?"

"Yes! Yes, it does. Thank you!"

Ellie was forty-five minutes away in good weather. The Jeep was light and would hydroplane easily, but she was a good driver and stayed very alert as she sped to the doctor's office. It was impulsive to make the appointment, but she had to know if there had been any progress. It had been four weeks since her last visit and there had been many physical therapy sessions since that time.

She performed the Jeep-to-door sprint, yet again, and sloshed her way over to the receptionist. She made it in thirty-six minutes.

"Take a seat. I'll let the doctor know you're here," the receptionist told Ellie.

Ellie sat in the waiting room, surrounded by equally drenched patients. She thought to grab a magazine, but feared turning it into paper maché, so she just sat back and tried to relax. The TV caught her attention. There was a reporter at Miner's Park, where she liked to jog. Apparently someone had been attacked and mugged and they were seeking information on the criminal from anyone who might have been there.

As Ellie listened, she hoped that no one she knew had been watching it. The last thing she wanted was to be ragged on for continuing to jog there. It was so beautiful at Miner's Park, she couldn't imagine jogging anywhere else. Besides, she didn't go to the park with a purse or jacket or anything that indicated she would have anything on her to rob.

"Awful, isn't it?" A woman on the other side of the waiting room asked Ellie.

It took Ellie a moment to realize the woman was talking to her. "Oh, yes, it is," Ellie unpreparedly replied.

"They are doing such a beautiful job with the reclamation of that part of town and then you have people like that mugger, who have to bring fear back into the community."

"Do you live in that area?" Ellie asked.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't live there! People get attacked and mugged!" The woman almost shrieked her answer.

Ellie smiled, sincerely amused by the hypocrisy. The woman continued to tell her about all of the recent crimes in that area. As she did, Ellie was focused on the woman's son, who was repeatedly chucking plastic blocks at his sister's head. The little girl didn't seem to be hurt by it in any way, fortunately.

The woman continued to rant and Ellie occasionally looked at the woman, pretending to be listening before glaring back at the boy, in hopes of subtly making the woman aware of the block massacre in progress. The woman remained oblivious as she continued her news reel.

"Those boys were only twelve years old when they robbed that comic book store. Can you imagine being a parent and not knowing your kids are out robbing a store?" the woman beseeched.

"No. No, I can't," Ellie said, calmly, giving up her efforts to alert the woman of her child's misdoings. "Hopefully as the revitalization continues, there will be less and less of that."

The woman was about to launch another verbal compendium, when a nurse called Ellie's name. She quickly and gratefully stood up and headed over to the nurse, giving a polite smile to the woman. As the examination room door swung closed, Ellie heard, "Roger! We do not throw blocks at our sister's head!"

Ellie sat on the examination table. The nurse asked her some basic questions to update her file and left the room, after indicating to Ellie that the doctor would be right with her. That phrase was as illusive as ever, as the doctor walked in forty-five minutes later.

"Ellie, how are we today?" the doctor asked her, clearly chipper because he hadn't tanked an audition that morning.

"All right. I was just hoping you could check for progress?" she asked, hopefully.

"We can, indeed. Is there some specific reason? I ask that because you have an appointment coming up in only two weeks," the doctor stated.

"I have been getting some calls for auditions and I want to know how much my ankle can handle."

"I don't expect change to come that fast, but we can take a look."

For the next hour, the doctor was in and out, occasionally escorting Ellie to another room or piece of equipment, before disappearing again. She was nervous, but hopeful...more of a desperately hopeful. Now, she was just waiting for the doctor to return with an update based on the results.

When he finally walked in she straightened up, eager to hear his words.

"Well, Ellie, I am not going to lie to you. You are doing a great job and you have come farther than most with this injury ever do, but you aren't at the stage where I can say you should be dancing professionally. There is still some healing that needs to happen. Now, I can't say that you might not be fine dancing for a while. You might even beat the odds and not have any trouble with it. But I also still can't tell you that it will definitely heal the rest of the way. Could you lead a normal life? Yes. But as far as the level of stress and activity that your chosen profession will demand, only time will tell."

"How close am I?" Ellie asked.

"I'd say you're a good 90% of the way, maybe a little more," Dr. Carter answered.

"So, if I did re-injure it, would it be a minor set-back or— "

The doctor interrupted Ellie, knowing where she was going with her question. "Ellie, if you re-injure your ankle, you may never dance again. I wouldn't risk it, if I were you. That is my professional opinion."

"It has gotten a little better since last time?" Ellie asked, wanting to leave with at least a little hope.

"It has. I won't sweeten it more than that though," Dr. Carter said matter-of-factly.

Ellie thanked him and left the office. This time she walked to her Jeep, through the downpour, getting absolutely soaked in the process. It all felt too slow: her ankle, the process, the progress. How could she get it where she needed it to be? Time was no promise and just how much time was ambiguous.

When she got home, she changed into dry clothes and crashed on her couch. Her teacher called again, but she ignored it, not out of disrespect but depression. John texted, but she didn't feel like exposing herself to what he might say that would make her question their relationship. Scotlyn texted and Ellie wanted to text back, but she didn't know what to say. She felt like crap and she didn't want to be a downer if Scotlyn had had a great day.

Ellie hated when she got like this. She was usually so positive, but sometimes things would pile up and she would feel overwhelmed and a little depressed. It was that the things that were important to her, were powerfully so. She was also a perfectionist and hardest on herself when she didn't live up to what she knew in her heart she could do.

She just let a role slip through her fingers and there was nothing she could do about it. Her boyfriend felt unreachable most of the time. And she was now on her own and the responsibility for everything rested on her shoulders alone. As independent as she usually was and as strong as she was trying to be, that thought sometimes scared her, especially as it was so new.

Ellie's phone vibrated. She had forgotten to turn the volume back on. It was Scotlyn again. _'Everything all right?'_

Ellie texted back, _'Yeah, I'm good.'_

# DAMAGE

~ 5 ~

Not thirty minutes after Scotlyn got in to work, her boss called her into his office. He was a kind man in his mid-fifties, though usually serious in his demeanor. He wore thick glasses and a suit, the jacket of which was always unbuttoned. He only stood 5'7" so Scotlyn was nearly his height. He was a very fair man, but he took his job very seriously. His father had run the company before him and it was a source of pride in his family.

"Have a seat, Miss McKenna," Mr. Sanderson said, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. She sat down, crossed her legs and placed her clasped hands on her knee.

"You're young and you have only been with us a short time; however, your writing is exceptional and you reflect very well on this company. You are always on time, you handle yourself professionally and you seem to take your job seriously."

"I do, Mr. Sanderson," Scotlyn confirmed.

"Yes. Well, it also seems you enjoy what you do here. Is that so?"

"It is. I love writing and I am thrilled to be able to do so for this company," Scotlyn elaborated.

"Very good, Miss McKenna. I would like to offer you a promotion," her boss began.

Her face lit up. Until that moment, she wasn't sure why he had called her into his office or what he wanted to speak about.

"Now, as you know, we are a little slow at the moment, but that will soon change. There will not be many hours for a few weeks, but they will slowly increase from there and by fall you can expect full time hours. If you handle this promotion well enough, we can speak about the possibility of field work, as well. Does this all sound amiable to you, Miss McKenna?"

"Yes, Mr. Sanderson. I am interested in field work and I feel certain I can handle the increasing hours. I won't let you down."

"Very good. That's what I wanted to hear. Your pay will reflect a 10% raise and we can discuss that again in the fall." He stepped behind his desk as he concluded what he had wanted to say to her. "You may return to your work now."

"Thank you, Mr. Sanderson. I truly appreciate the opportunity." Scotlyn walked out of his office and back to her desk, where she whipped out her phone.

"Guess what?" Scotlyn asked Trent, when he answered her call.

"What, babe?"

"I got a promotion! And a raise! They also want to increase my hours leading into fall," she said excitedly.

"That's amazing! I would expect nothing less from you. I'm glad they appreciate your talents," Trent praised.

"Thanks!"

"Hey, meet me on Main Street after work, all right?" Trent asked.

"Yeah, sure. Where on Main?" Scotlyn asked.

"In the square, at the point closest to the lake trail."

"Am I dressing for walking down to the lake?"

Trent laughed lightly, "No. Just bring your beautiful self to the square."

"Sure, I'll see you later then."

"Congratulations, babe. I'm proud of you!" Trent said, before they each hung up.

As planned, after work Scotlyn drove to Main Street, parked her car and walked over to the square. It was the center of town, marked by a large, one acre square park. Within were two paths through it's center and several trees and benches. The entire acreage was all beautifully landscaped. The streets around it were cobblestone and lined with small shops and businesses. The park in the square had always been natural land. In the eighties, a young, up-and-coming entrepreneur wanted to put a box store there, but the town had fought it and won, in the process getting the land preserved once and for all.

Scotlyn walked to the edge of the grass and sat on one of the benches that faced the sidewalk, scanning the area for her boyfriend. Within a few minutes, Trent came up behind her, put his hands over her eyes and said, "What color shirt am I wearing?"

"What?" Scotlyn laughed. She indulged his insane sense of humor. "Blue, with a purple stripe that stops three inches from the bottom and four pink dots, one of which is green."

He laughed and spun around the bench, sitting down beside her.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Ready for what?"

"Follow me." Trent stood, reaching for her hand and led her across the street. He let his fingers slide between hers as they walked swiftly down the sidewalk, passing shop after shop. Finally he turned, entering a store. A strong aroma hit them as they walked in. There were endless rows of soaps, broken up only by the occasional soap accessory. The entire store was a rainbow of pastels. Trent started walking around the displays, as if searching for something.

"Do we need soap?" Scotlyn asked.

"Huh?" Trent pretended to be deep into the hunt and slightly incoherent to her words. "Did you...soap? Oh, no. We don't need soap."

Trent took her hand again and walked out. They continued past a few more shops until once again, he ducked into another store. This time it was a candle shop. Everywhere you looked, candles. They ranged from common, even primitive, to elaborate carvings of exotic animals. There was even a shelf of candles shaped like cartoon characters. The most impressive was the six feet tall candle in the figure of a human.

Scotlyn, still confused, did get a bit caught up in the uniqueness and craftsmanship of some of the wax works though. As they passed the human-shaped candle, she leaned over Trent's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "That's a little freaky."

"What? Oh, yeah. It truly is. But we're not getting that one, so it's cool."

"Which one are we getting?" Scotlyn asked, relieved at least that they wouldn't be melting a six foot humanoid in their dining room that night.

"We're not getting any of them," Trent said and once again took her hand to lead her outside.

Scotlyn was looking at him strangely, though amused by the mystery and the oddity. Trent didn't notice. He was on a mission and the act was part of it.

At the corner they turned and strolled past a new street of shops. Scotlyn was curious as to which one he would guide her into next. Scotlyn realized that though she had lived in the town all of her life, she had never even been in most of the shops. Who knew you could buy any kind of soap ever made or that you could burn a different Pokemon each night of the week?

Before she got too deep into her musings, he whisked her into another shop: a butcher shop. She chuckled to herself. Trent walked up to the glass display of meats and examined each one carefully. He lingered a good minute or two on the lamb alone.

Scotlyn hesitantly asked, "Dinner?"

"Dinner? No, I'm not hungry, are you?" Trent said, speedily.

Before she could answer he was leading her down the street again. They walked another few blocks, turned right and began down a third street of shops. It was all becoming a whirlwind of stores to Scotlyn, which was exactly the moment Trent was waiting for. He pulled her into a final shop and walked directly to a shimmering glass display. He stopped in front of it, leaning one elbow on the counter and smiled at her.

"Here we are. This is the one," he said, with a tone of calm accomplishment.

Scotlyn stood before a cabinet of dazzling diamond necklaces. It wasn't the only display in the store, but it was the one containing the necklaces that were exactly Scotlyn's style. A woman appeared behind the counter, with a smile on her face that proclaimed that she was part of Trent's set-up.

"Whichever one you want," Trent said softly to her.

"What is this for?" she asked, completely caught off guard.

"Your dream was to be a writer and you are. Not only did you achieve your dream, but you just got promoted. I say that deserves some celebrating." Trent answered.

"Trent," she whispered and softly slid her hand across the back of his neck as she kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

Scotlyn spent the next twenty minutes looking at the necklaces that stood out the most to her and trying to decide. In the end, it wasn't hard. There was one that kept catching her eye. It was a heart in white gold, with diamonds acting as a shadow along one side. It was about the size of a dime, precious, and it sparkled so much, you would think it could catch someone's eye from across the square.

Trent put it on her.

"It's..." he began, but then corrected himself, "...YOU...are beautiful."

"Trent, I love it. I love it so much." Her eyes sparkled brighter than the necklace. He smiled at her warmly.

Trent walked over to another counter to pay the woman, before returning to Scotlyn to walk with her out of the shop. As they strolled toward the square, Scotlyn laughed as she thought about Trent's crazy tour leading up to the surprise in the jewelry shop.

"You're nuts, you know," Scotlyn said to him.

"Part of my charm. I bet you're glad I didn't buy you a shank of lamb," Trent joked.

Scotlyn laughed under breath. She lifted the heart to gaze at it and said, "Actually I'm just glad it isn't six feet tall and shaped like a human."

"Next time," Trent retorted.

When they reached the square, they took a slow walk through it. It was a beautiful day, warm but with a cool breeze. Maybe it was how happy she was or how safe she felt, but everything seemed to be moving slowly, as if it all was exactly as it needed to be, so there was now an eternity to relax and enjoy it.

They came to a bench near the center of the park and sat there. A huge oak tree shaded them. Trent gently pulled Scotlyn to him and she nestled against him, her head on his chest.

Trent pulled out his phone, tapped a few times and held it to his ear.

"Ellie. How are you? Listen, we are celebrating Scotlyn's promotion tonight...eight o'clock...at Wingin' It. Can you make it? All right, that is great. We will see you later. Bye, El."

Scotlyn sat up and looked at Trent. He looked back at her like it should be obvious.

"What? I'm going to buy you a necklace, but let you starve?" Trent joked subtly, while tapping his phone to make the next call. He called Tyler and relayed the same info again. He hung up and then looked at Scotlyn.

"You have to," she said.

"Scot, I hate that guy. He's no good for her. Plus your brother might just kill him right there with a buffalo wing," Trent humorously argued.

"If she sees more in him, I have to believe that it's there. John is her boyfriend, you have to invite him," Scotlyn insisted.

Trent hesitantly made the call. "Well, he says he'll be there. I'm tempted to start a pool on it though."

Scotlyn glared at him, covering his mouth with her hand. "Stop. Chill. It will be fine. Besides, if he doesn't show, then it will hurt El and I don't want that to happen. She doesn't deserve that," Scotlyn pointed out.

"I know that. All the more reason not to invite him. Then he can't let her down by not showing up," Trent re-iterated. "I feel a little bad too. Tyler is always like the fifth wheel."

"What vehicle has five wheels?" Scotlyn teased.

"Jeeps," Trent answered, proudly. "We should have not invited John and instead set Ellie up with you brother."

"Ellie and Ty? I would love that, but El is like a little sister to Ty. He doesn't see her in a romantic way," Scotlyn explained.

"Ahem," Trent cleared his throat pointedly, "Are you kidding?"

"No, why?"

"I think you may need to take a closer look sometime." Trent left it at that.

Trent put his phone away and wrapped his other arm around Scotlyn. They sat and enjoyed the day, the weather, the scenery, each other. She closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over her. The sounds of the people, cars, birds, all faded into a low, distant hum. Her hand reached for her necklace pendant. He really did surprise her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"I can't believe you bought me this. It's so expensive. Are you sure it's OK?" Scotlyn asked.

"I work hard. I save well. I am covering college and expenses. It's going OK. You don't have to worry. Besides, as proud as I am of you, there is one other thing that that necklace is in celebration of."

Scotlyn sat up a little and looked at him with interest.

"It was this week, five years ago, that we met," Trent reminded her.

"Oh, that's right, it was! Five years." She looked at him with a deep love for remembering, for being so thoughtful, for being exactly who he was. She rested her head on his chest again and let the thought that they had been together five years sink in.

They met while Paul was in the coma. Trent's car was in the shop, so he had been riding his bike home from the hospital. There was still an anger within him, but it was an anger toward the fear inside of him and he was trying hard not to feel it. He was riding fast, his eyes were full of tears and he was deep in thought. He didn't see Scotlyn walk out of the store and he nearly rode into her. He quickly hit the brakes and manipulated a skid away from her, tearing his pant leg and scraping up his calf. He just clipped her arm and she had a small gash on her wrist. It wasn't serious at all and she would have been content to laugh it off, after a bit of swearing at him, of course. But before she could even catch her breath, he was holding her arm, inspecting the cut and imploring repeatedly if she was all right. Without waiting for an answer, he began to escort her to the drug store, about twenty feet from where they stood. But as they began to move, she caught a glimpse of his eyes in the street light and stopped.

"Your leg."

"What?"

"Your leg. You are hurt a lot worse that I am. I mean, you're crying."

"I'm not crying about my leg," which he was just now noticing for the first time. "Shit," he said, under his breath, looking down at the bloody pieces of fabric. "I am not crying at all."

"You have tears in your eyes."

He wanted to deny it, blame it on the breeze in his eyes when he was riding, but he was so exhausted that his guard was down and Scotlyn's voice was the warmest sound he had heard in a very long time. When Scotlyn carried genuine concern, her voice was sweet and sincere in a way that made you instantly feel loved and important.

They sat outside talking for hours. He ended up telling her everything. And afterwards, he was still focused on taking care of her arm and making sure she was OK. She fell in love with him that night. He had a lot of problems at that time, but she didn't ever forget what she saw in his face the night he confided in her, a total stranger.

She was patient and supportive and was the one thing that felt good in his life. Scotlyn could be difficult, but that rarely came out with the people she truly loved. Trent was not a fighter. That was forced upon him by a constant enduring of cruelty. He wasn't a bad person, or a danger to her. If he could just get out of the crappy situation he was in, he could be anything he wanted to be. That was what made it all right in Scotlyn's mind. She knew that was his choice and she saw it was what he wanted, so she gave him a chance.

It wasn't an easy road. He was heavily addicted and the withdrawal was almost as hard to watch as it was for Trent to experience. The first week was the hardest. Scotlyn had just turned eighteen and was home from school for break, so she couldn't easily get away to see him. No matter how she played the conversation in her head, it always came out sounding like, "Hey mom, I met this guy the other night when he rode his bike into me. He is five years older than I am and, oh yeah, a drug addict. He also smokes and drinks. He recently put his father in a coma, so I was just gonna run over to his apartment on the sketchy side of town to make sure he is OK. Cool?" Sneaking out wasn't really an option either, considering her older brother overheard her talking to Ellie on the phone about the guy and, convinced Trent was one of Scotlyn's worse ideas, he was watching her like a hawk. He knew this guy wouldn't fly with their parents and that sneaking over there via a lie about her where-a-bouts, was exactly Scotlyn's next move.

The one day that she did manage it, through a very craftily engineered ploy, Trent was in a bad way. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days, which was accurate. He was pacing, his hands trembling and he kept running his hands through his dirty-blonde hair. The door creaked as she peaked around it, wanting to make sure, in his current state, he remembered her, before fully committing to the entry.

"Hey, is it all right that I'm here?" Scotlyn said, softly, with trepidation.

"Yeah, but you really shouldn't stay. I don't exactly want you to see me like this."

"I get that. I'm not judging. If you think you could trust me, I would like to stay for a little," Scotlyn said, cautiously.

"Yeah, fine. Stay." His words spoken wearily, he collapsed onto the couch and lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply before looking up to where Scotlyn was still standing frozen by the half-opened door. "Come here." As she got closer to the couch, he gestured for her to sit down next to him. "How is your wrist?" He took her arm gently to look for himself.

"It's fine, no worries. How's your leg?"

Trent's leg had scabbed over which actually made it look worse than when he had gotten it cleaned up on the night it happened. "I'll live."

Scotlyn sat tense, unsure of exactly what to say or how to help. She was attracted to Trent, but knew she should wait before getting too involved with him, especially physically. But she did like being near him, even if she was a little scared.

"Listen, Scot, I'm trying. I'm trying so damn hard, but I feel like I'm losing. When I decided I had to stop all of this, it was like there were a hundred powerful reasons right before my eyes, right in my face. There was no question. And now, I'm sitting here, trying for fuck all, not to pick up my phone and go get another hit. And yet, I know inside that I have to fight through this. I can't feel the reasons, but I can feel their imprint, if that makes sense." He stole another toke and blew the smoke over his shoulder, away from Scotlyn. Before she could say anything, he leaned forward, supporting his elbows with his knees and scratching his hands through his hair. "This is so messed up." He sat up and turned to Scotlyn, staring at her for a moment. He brought one of his hands up and placed it on the side of her face, like he was holding something precious to him. Her body tingled and she involuntarily gasped ever so slightly. His tone changed to reflect a sincere and gentle masculinity that held an air of concern. "I am so sorry. This is no way to meet someone and certainly not the first date you deserve. I want to hold you, Scot. I want to let myself feel the support of this girl that sits before me, the one with the beautiful heart. But I can't Scot. I can't. This isn't something I can let you get pulled into. This isn't the place for you right now and I am definitely not the guy for you right now."

"What kind of person would I be if I walked away just because you were having a rough time right now?" she said, feeling the same tingle, only this time it was in response to him trying to shoo her away. This time it did not feel good.

He stood abruptly, taking a couple large strides toward the wall. In a louder, frustrated voice he rebutted, "Scotlyn, you don't get it. I have done a lot of crap. I have never been here before. I don't even understand what I am feeling right now. How I am resisting the urges that come, is beyond me. Before you got here I was fighting, literally fighting, in every minute not to get high. You can't understand this. As hard as I am fighting, it still feels like I could lose at any moment. Like it isn't even my choice."

"It is completely your choice," she said, in a more confident tone.

He spun around quickly to face her and yelled, "Scot! Look at me! Listen to me! Listen to how I am talking to you. I am trying my damnedest to hold myself together to whatever small degree I can in this moment...for _you_. Because I know how you _should_ be spoken to and I know how you _should_ be looked upon. My body is waging war with me." His tone softened. "You being here makes it harder. I can't be who I want to be with you right now. And if I fail and end up stoned tonight, screw it, but if I ever did anything wrong to you, I could not forgive myself."

She tried not to show it, but she was scared. This was new for her too. In the very brief time she had spent talking to him the other night, she had developed some trust in him, in the care he showed to her. But now, if he was saying he couldn't control whether he is that person or isn't that person in this moment, it didn't leave much safety in that trust. Half of her wanted to leave and quickly, but she had a bit more spunk in her than that.

"If you want to give up, fine, I will leave. But I don't think you want to and if you're that on the edge, maybe you do need someone here to push you back and not let you fall away."

He was much louder and angrier than before, this time petrifying her. "IF I WANT TO!? IF I want to? Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to be here screaming at the loveliest woman I have ever seen? You think I want to keep destroying my body? Do you really think I want to have my Dad in a coma? Fuck!" He slammed his forearm into the wall, hard, and then lay his forehead on it. In a softer tone and definitively through tears, "Do you think I want to be the one who put him there?" He turned, so his back was leaning against the wall and slid down it, reaching the floor and leaning his elbows on his knees, his head down. He cried hard, but it was not unmasculine. Quite the opposite. It revealed how tortured he was and that he had incredible strength to be enduring it. As scared as she was, which was a bit less than moments before, she was moved by what she was seeing and hearing and felt closer to him than ever. He held the back of his head with his hands. "Do you really think I want to fail at any of this?"

Scotlyn had known almost as soon as she said it, that her words were poorly chosen. She walked over to him and sat against the wall next to him. She wanted to reach out to him but, unsure, she refrained. The side of her leg and shoulder just barely brushed up against his. Scotlyn looked over her shoulder at him. In a hushed, but factual tone that conveyed understanding, she said, "No. I know you don't." And she just sat with him, letting it be all right that he was hurting; trusting— hoping— her gut was leading her right, here and now. He leaned his head back against the wall, his hair a stylish mess, his eyes closed and expression pained. He just barely cried in exhaustion, though fighting to achieve a tougher appearance. He eventually calmed into a more composed state. His cigarette almost burned out, he brought it to his mouth one more time before tossing it in an ashtray, letting it burn itself out.

He looked over to Scotlyn. His expression was telling. He was thankful she was there, but he was beating himself up over having her witness any of this with those innocent green eyes. While Scotlyn wasn't exactly sheltered, she was a good kid from a good home and it only took one look to know she had never seen anything like this before. She was clearly uncomfortable, while trying very hard not to let on. But he knew.

Trent placed his hand on her knee. "You want to help me out?" She nodded. He placed his cell phone in her hand. "Take this with you. At least make it harder for me to do anything stupid. Give it back when the worst of this has passed."

"When is that? I mean, how long does it...this...take?" Scotlyn was trying not to sound like an idiot or phrase anything the wrong way. She stared at him, feeling much calmer now.

"I don't know. Probably a few more days though, I'm guessing." He looked at her once again, more deeply. "Are you all right?"

"You ask me that _a lot_."

"It matters _a lot_."

She felt that positive tingle return. She knew she shouldn't but she wanted to be closer to him. Despite the darker aspects, he had proven to her all over again that everything she saw in him on their first meeting was accurate. She wasn't a girl who was afraid to make the first move. Scotlyn was brimming with confidence almost all of the time. But now, she couldn't move. She was out of her element, yet she found that oddly exciting.

He looked to her once more. He let his hand fall off her knee and in her mind she begged, " _No, no, no,"_ until he slowly reached for her face, letting his fingers move through her hair before finally resting his hand on the right side of her head. Betraying his hesitation, he placed his other hand on her left shoulder and pulled her to him, at long last allowing his lips to meet hers...just barely at first, as he lingered over her mouth. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face and his hand sliding down her arm. He let their lips touch for another moment, his hand sliding back up her arm and squeezing it, his other hand pulling her head to his. When she thought she could bare it no longer, he drew her to him, kissing her deeply and passionately, turning his body to be able to pull her closer to him. His right hand now held the other side of her face allowing him the control to alternate between kissing her fully and letting his lips hover over hers, occasionally touching them for the briefest moment. When he felt she could take no further teasing, he would take her mouth in his again. In passionate embrace, both of them breathing heavily, lusting and longing, he let his hand fall back to her shoulder. As he slid it down her arm, it brushed against her left breast, causing her to inhale sharply and their kiss to deepen further, until he abruptly pulled his mouth away, releasing her head from his hand. He leaned back over and kissed her quickly once more before leaning back against the wall. Scotlyn just sat there, knowing so deeply what she desired, but not wanting to alter the dynamic. He was controlling this encounter so far and he did so with such strength and care that she found it powerfully sexy.

"You should go."

"What?" Scotlyn was caught off guard, unsure of what had changed.

"Nothing's wrong," he quietly assured. She looked at him, still trying to understand. "I just need for you to get going. This is me protecting you from me."

She held her gaze, wanting to throw caution to the wind, wanting him to change his mind but, at the very least, wanting to be sure she could believe what he was saying before giving in to it. Her heart still beat rapidly.

"So you need to get going. I'm not asking," he said firmly, but compassionately.

"Will I —"

"Yes. You will," he cut her off. Then he added, as further proof, "You have my phone don't you?" And with that she saw him crack the first smile that evening. She gently nodded and stood up, brushing off her dress. She looked back at him, her eyes communicating clearly the concern of her mind.

"The best I can do," he said. "It's all I can promise."

She smiled thinly and turned to leave. On the way out she heard the flick of his lighter, and then the click of the door as she finished closing it behind her.

Now, as she lay in his arms in the park, she looked at her wrist where a small scar still was from when he rode into her five years ago. It was barely visible, but she could see it and she loved it every bit as much as the necklace.

As she reached for it now and let the pendant dangle in her hand and play over her fingertips, she really was glad it wasn't a lamb shank. And she laughed inside, knowing that was his sense of humor that had just taken hold of her mind. But she didn't care. She loved him. And maybe it was funny, too.

# THE WHOLE GANG...ALMOST

~ 6 ~

After Trent and Scotlyn left the park, they went back to their place to change out of their work clothes before meeting the others for Scotlyn's celebratory night out. Scotlyn was going for casual, but stylish. Trent just wanted to be out of his work clothes. He took a quick shower and threw on some jeans and a casual shirt. Scotlyn was still getting ready, so he decided to make a call.

"Hey, Scot, I'm going to call my dad real quick before we go."

"All right. Take your time," she replied.

Trent's dad had been in an assisted living facility ever since he got out of the hospital. His insurance covered it and Trent did what he had to to give his father some spending money each month. Back when it happened, Trent had taken over the payments on Paul's apartment, which fortunately, had been such a run down building in such a shady section of town that the rent was very low. Between taking care of his dad, paying for living expenses and school, it took Trent almost four years to be able to get a nicer apartment in a better area. The moment it was possible, he did it. During those four years, when he did get a chance to see Scotlyn, he usually went to where she was; he didn't like her coming to the crummy area in which he lived. He was fairly protective of her.

Trent's father had been doing well enough in the home. He had some lasting damage from the head injury and was guilt-ridden and depressed. He would have his good days, but they wouldn't last long before he dipped again.

Lately, Paul had been off and Trent was worried about him. He was scheduled for tests and a therapist was going to be visiting him, but those things had not occurred yet, so he was on Trent's mind a lot.

"Hi, Dad. How are you doing tonight?"

Paul was brief in his answers throughout their conversation. His voice was monotone and disheartened. Trent didn't press him with too many questions, but really just tried to get a feel on how he was and let him know that he was thought about."

"All right, well I will let you get back to your show. I want you to have a good night, OK, Dad?"

They said their goodbyes and Trent hung up his phone. He took a deep breath as he stared at the floor. Hearing Scotlyn walking out of the bedroom, he snapped himself out of it, quickly stood up and threw on a smile.

"Hey, you look great, babe," he said, as Scotlyn appeared.

"Thanks! How is your dad?"

"Uh...he is the same. I'll drive over there this week and see him in person." Trent was intentionally brief, so as not to put a damper on Scotlyn's night. "So, are you ready to go?"

"Yep, I'm all set."

"Shall we?" Trent offered his elbow, going for a dramatic, chivalrous effect.

"Let's shall," Scotlyn appropriately replied, linking her arm in his, and with that they were out the door and headed to meet their friends.

They took Trent's truck, since Scotlyn's car had zero leg room and he was just over six feet tall. The place was only five minutes away, though it would probably take equally long to find a place to park.

Trent drove through the lot a few times looking for a space, to no avail. He began to pull out of the lot and look for something on the street when Tyler waved him down.

"Hey. Make a right. There's a few spots, block up," Tyler informed him.

Trent let Scotlyn out and turned onto the road to grab one of the empty spaces Tyler had told him about. They waited for him outside of Wingin' It. Within a few minutes, he came walking up the sidewalk to where they stood.

"Are Ellie and John here yet?" Trent asked.

"Not yet. Let's just wait out here for them," Scotlyn suggested. "It's a beautiful night anyway,"

Not five minutes later, Ellie came walking up the sidewalk. "Hi, guys!"

"Hi!" Scotlyn greeted, lighting up at the arrival of her best friend.

Trent and Tyler said hello as Ellie made a beeline for Scotlyn to give her a hug. "Congratulations! You are awesome! I am so happy for you!" Ellie said, enthusiastically.

"Thank you! It's been such a good day!" Scotlyn said, excited to finally tell Ellie.

"Oh, yeah? What did you guys do?" Ellie asked, noticing the new necklace.

"Trent took me to the soap shop, the candle shop, the butcher and the jeweler," Scotlyn said, lifting her pendant to show Ellie. "Did you know they make cheesecake scented soap? Have you ever thought, '"Wow, I would really love to smell like cheesecake today. If only they made a scented soap?"'

Ellie laughed.

"So, is John coming separately?" Scotlyn asked, hesitantly.

Ellie's expression became more sullen. Her eyes dropped to the sidewalk as she said, "He isn't coming. Work."

Trent shot Scotlyn a look and Tyler pursed his lips, tension entering his face. Scotlyn quickly moved past it for the good of everyone. She took Ellie's arm and started inside. The guys followed.

A hostess seated them in a booth. Trent slid in with Scotlyn and Ellie and Tyler sat opposite them. They declined the menus that were offered to them, as they had spent many times here and knew exactly what they wanted. The hostess assured them their waitress would be with them shortly.

Wingin' It was set up to look like an indoor rodeo. The main part of the restaurant was circular and the walls were papered in a photo image of rodeo bleachers. The center had a bar, on the outskirts of which were tables and booths on three sides. The fourth side actually had a mechanical bull. The floor looked like rodeo dirt and the ceilings were high and painted black, except for the large hanging industrial lights. They had low wattage bulbs, so despite the number of them, the place had a dim atmosphere, which made the decor appear all the more realistic. The counter surrounding the bar was a little brighter.

There were offshoots here and there: there was one for the restrooms, one for the kitchen and one that was large and wide open to the restaurant. Within this third one were video games, air hockey, a pool table and a dartboard. There were also some fortune telling games, strength testers and a few hokey vintage machines. It was a fun place with great food and it was always packed.

When the waitress arrived, they each ordered something to go along with the assortment of buffalo wings they ordered for the table. They had a game they played each time they came to Wingin' It. They would have a coin toss, girls vs. guys. The winners chose the drinks for the losers and it always had to be something they had never tried before. Tonight the girls lost, so Trent and Tyler ordered beer for themselves and Irish Car Bombs for the girls.

"So why is it called an Irish Car Bomb?" Ellie asked. She rarely drank, so it didn't take more than a handful of sips for her to start feeling it.

"Because of the ingredients: Guiness, Baileys and Jameson Irish Whiskey, plus when you drop the shot of Baileys in, it bubbles up like an explosion," Trent explained.

"It's actually a really shitty name, roughly relating to a tough time in Ireland," Tyler added.

"So let's rename it," Scotlyn suggested.

"How about...triple fizzy Ellie dizzy," Ellie said.

They all laughed.

"That's the stupidest name I've ever heard, but in this case it fits perfectly." Trent teased, "Hey, El, let me see you dance a straight line."

"Oh, stop. I'm slightly... _slightly_...dizzy, I'm not wearing a lamp shade," Ellie said.

Trent looked at Scotlyn and then Tyler. "Dude, I'm not saying that to a waitress though. I'll let triple fizzy slide, but just don't ask me to order it," Trent insisted.

Every ten minutes or so, there would be a roar in the restaurant as another person got thrown off the bull. On weekends there would be contests, but on Fridays it was just random riders who were usually drunk, trying to impress a girl, or both.

"I want to ride the bull," Ellie said, nearly bouncing out of her seat.

"All right, all right. I'll watch that, but not until you finish that drink. Trust me, the landing will hurt less," Tyler joked.

"Wow, you really have a lot of confidence in me! I bet you that I can stay on longer than you can," Ellie challenged.

"He's going to take it easier on you than me," Tyler said, referencing the guy running the controls.

"So, we'll tell him to keep it fair. Any other excuses?"

"My money's on Ellie," Scotlyn said.

"No, sorry, hun, but I gotta go with Ty on this one," Trent said.

"Well, what do say?" Ellie asked.

"You're on!" Tyler accepted.

Ellie jumped out of her seat and hurried over to the mechanical bull, with the rest of the group following behind. They explained the challenge to the operator, who was on board.

"After you, Miss Mayfield," Tyler said, gesturing toward the bull.

Ellie tossed him a cocky stare as she walked up onto the mat and to the mechanical bull. She climbed up onto it and gave the operator a nod when she was ready.

He started it off slow and easy and Ellie playfully flaunted over-confidence. Her left hand holding tightly to the strap, her right waving in the air for balance, she continued to do well even when he stepped it up a notch. As she rolled her back in rhythm with the waves of the bull, you couldn't help but notice that she was dancing, no matter what she was doing, without even trying.

The operator continued to gradually increase the speed. Ellie rode it well for about twenty-five seconds, with the last eight or so being where he was really beginning to increase the difficulty. During the last few seconds he raised it again and with the first buck and spin, she was on the mat. Ellie rolled onto her back, laughing hard. Tyler reached out his hand to help her up.

"Now, watch how this is done," Tyler said to her, smiling as he walked over to the bull. He climbed on and gave a nod to the operator. The same routine began. It was Tyler's turn to shoot Ellie a cocky, overconfident smirk.

He adjusted for each increase in speed, the definition in his arms growing more pronounced beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt. It was clear he had done this a few times before. Ellie watched in tensed anticipation as he neared the length of time that she stayed on, clenching her teeth as he endured past it. As the operator kicked it up another notch, more people turned to watch. It was at the level where it was really entertaining and it wasn't long before Ellie was cheering him on. With the exception of professionals, they always increased gradually, so the record at that location was one minute twelve seconds and she secretly hoped he would beat it. Trent and Scotlyn were cheering him on, as well as several bar patrons.

The bull bucked and spun with increasing speed. Tyler rode it like a pro for another six seconds before being thrown from the bull. He landed on the mat and covered his face with his hands, growling in disbelief that he couldn't hang on longer. He quickly sat up, started to grin, stood and walked over to Ellie.

"I do believe that's game over," he said, in good fun.

Ellie laughed and punched his shoulder as he passed her. Tyler looked back to her and winked.

They all made their way back to their table. Each of them slid into the booth except Trent. He looked at Scotlyn and gestured that he'd be outside for a minute. He walked to the door and the conversation at the table continued.

Outside Trent lit a cigarette and blew the thick smoke toward the moonlit sky. The stars were visible despite how bright it was. The sidewalks were busy with people, which was normal for such a beautiful spring night. Some of the businesses stayed open later when the nice weather began and often people could be found just strolling, especially in the park at the square and down by the lake.

Trent brought the cigarette to his mouth and inhaled deeply before turning to look down the other direction of the road. He squinted his eyes and then ducked back a step into the shadow of the next building. He cautiously looked out past the edge of the brick again, to be certain.

A couple hundred feet down the road was John. He had a woman with him and they were talking and laughing. They seemed to be having a pretty good time. Trent continued to watch them until John leaned in and hugged the woman tightly. The woman was backlit so he couldn't make out her face. Trent resisted the urge to walk up to John and deliver a not-so-friendly hello. Instead he waited and tried to be certain of what exactly was going on. It was possible it was a friend. It wasn't as though he kissed her. A relative? Probably not. It just seemed too friendly. An ex? That didn't make the scenario any better. Trent was running out of possible explanations.

As he exhaled the last of the smoke into the cool air and was about to turn and head back inside, he saw John kiss her. It wasn't a long passionate kiss, more of a peck on the lips, but it was still enough to make Trent clench his fist and grit his teeth. He decided he needed to get back inside immediately.

Trent walked back to the table and slid in next to Scotlyn. She smiled at him. Despite the fact that he was trying to hide it, she could tell that something must've happened outside, but she also knew that if he wasn't bringing it up, it was probably something he didn't want to discuss publicly. She slowly returned her gaze to her friends at the table and jumped back into the conversation. They laughed and joked for the next hour, occasionally taking a peek at who had just hit the mat beneath the bull.

"How you doing over there?" Tyler asked Ellie, referring to the drink she was almost finished with. He knew Ellie rarely drank, so it was a valid curiosity.

"I'm doing great," she said, believably. "How are you doing?"

"Well, I'm doing just fine. Of course, my tolerance is a bit higher than yours and I am only drinking beer, so..."

"Hey, leave her alone, Ty," Scotlyn said. "She's good. Right, El? You're good?"

"Good," Ellie said, beginning to actually consider the question. "Well...yeah, good. A little spinny maybe. But good," she chuckled.

"Hmm," Scotlyn said, looking at Ellie. "How spinny?"

"Not too spinny. I'm good, really."

"OK," Scotlyn said, deciding to believe her. "Hey, you guys, let's walk down to the lake. It's such a nice night."

Trent signaled to the waitress to bring the check. They finished up and paid the bill. Trent, remembering who was outside before, quickly blurted out, "Did that guy just say it's raining? You guys wait here a second. Let me check." Before anyone could say anything, he was rushing to the front door. He scanned the area as quickly as he could and not seeing John, headed back inside.

"Dude's crazy. It's nice as can be outside. So, you guys ready?" Trent speedily said. Now Scotlyn was certain something was up. They all got out of the booth and headed for the door. As they walked out, they could hear the sound of some poor bull rider hitting the mat— hard.

The lake was only half a mile from the restaurant, so they headed there on foot. Trent had his arm wrapped around Scotlyn's shoulder and Ellie walked beside Tyler, who was keeping an eye out for her, even though she did seem fine. Mostly.

Trent didn't show it, but he was a little on edge. He had no way of knowing where John had gone with the woman. Trent already didn't like John, but he could not believe he would bail on Ellie, possibly cheat on her, and all within a couple hundred feet of where he knew she would be that night. He just couldn't imagine the guy being any dumber. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, so he kept moving his mind to something else. But that didn't change the fact that John could now be anywhere, including the lake. It was a popular spot in the warmer months, even, or sometimes especially, at night. To make matters worse, the sky was bright from the moon and John had an unmistakeable voice, very unique to him. So if he was there, he would be hard to miss.

The walk took them down the road to where the shops became more sparse and light woods lined the edge of the road. Eventually there was a small lot for cars and a trail that led down to the water. It tunneled through the woods, but it was a wide, well maintained path made of decomposed granite. Occasionally there would be a lamp post, but for the most part it would have been very dark if not for the full moon. Normally on summer nights it was a light show of flashlights as people made their way down the path.

When they reached the lake, they couldn't help but pause to take in its beauty. They found a long bench near the water and sat there, just looking out over the lake for a bit. There was a gentle breeze that rippled the water and the moon shone down upon it, glistening like a million tiny sparkles. The water was a deep indigo with lighter shades here and there where the light touched it, the brightest twinkles dancing, almost hovering, on top of that.

The perimeter was surrounded by trees, mostly pine. It was easy to feel like you were deep in the woods, when you were really only several hundred feet from the road. Couples could be seen laying on blankets, sitting on benches and walking along the water. There were joggers who ran around the lake in the evenings and even a few people in boats on the water. On the opposite side of the lake, there seemed to be a group of people enjoying a bon fire. It was a one hundred fifty acre lake, so there were plenty of places for everyone to enjoy the beauty or even the seclusion.

"Hey! I was hoping I would find you!" John said, enthusiastically. "El, I got off work earlier than I thought, so I came looking for you. I wasn't sure if you would still be out." To his credit, he arrived alone.

Trent felt a greater anger inside, but he kept his mouth shut and continued to stare out at the lake. He didn't want to humiliate Ellie, as hard as it was for him not to call out John for what he was.

Ellie jumped up and rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him. John gently placed his hands on her back, returning the hug, but Trent could not help noticing it was limp and lacking feeling. It was a poor excuse for a hug in comparison with the mystery woman he was with earlier.

Ellie and John walked over to the bench and sat beside Scotlyn and Trent. He put his arm around her and leaned in to kiss her. Ellie smiled at him. "I'm glad you could make it," Ellie said to John.

Tyler stood up and Trent half hoped he was going to do what he was restraining himself from doing. Instead he just excused himself.

"Hey, guys, I'm going to take off. I have work in the morning and it's getting late," Tyler said.

"Stay, man. We aren't going to be out too much longer," Trent said, not eager about being there with John.

"Nah, really. I had a great time. Scot, congrats! You deserve the promotion," Tyler said, starting to walk away. He raised a hand to the group as he turned. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

They all exchanged some light conversation. Occasionally each couple would kiss, or they would enjoy the beauty of the lake, the moon and being under the stars. Scotlyn liked John. There was something about him that worried her a bit, but otherwise she thought he was funny and interesting and enjoyable to talk to. Trent did a very good job of not showing just how opposite his opinion was on that subject. Ellie was just glad John had joined them.

"How did you know we were down here," Trent finally asked John.

"I was driving up the road and I saw you all walking and turning down the path to the lake."

"Funny, I didn't see your car," Trent said.

"Well, you guys looked like you were having a good time, so—" John started before being interrupted by Scotlyn.

"So, we probably weren't paying attention to the cars on the road," Scotlyn interjected, trying to head off any trouble.

"No, you're right, Scot. I probably had my mind on other things," Trent said, taking her hint and letting it go.

They stayed at the lake another fifteen minutes before walking back to their vehicles. Once they got to the lot, Scotlyn and Trent said their thanks and goodbyes to John and Ellie before getting into Trent's truck. Ellie stood with John a minute longer.

"Do you want to stay out a little longer?" Ellie asked.

"I do, but I can't. I still have some things to do and I have an early meeting in the morning, but I might be able to stop by after that tomorrow," John answered.

"All right, that will be cool," Ellie smiled. "Where are you parked?"

"I'm several blocks across town. Are you OK to walk to your car?" John asked.

"Um...yeah. I can walk there myself," Ellie replied, though not entirely flattered by or comfortable with the suggestion. "I'll possibly see you tomorrow, then."

Ellie kissed John and headed to her car. Less than a minute later, Trent pulled up next to her. "Get in," he said.

Ellie was startled for a second before realizing who it was. She was also tired and still slightly feeling the alcohol, so words weren't rushing to her mind. After a brief pause, she walked around the truck and climbed in.

"Where are you parked?" Trent asked. He was very to-the-point.

Ellie pointed ahead before adding, "Another four blocks or so, in front of the Taylor's Shop."

"You don't need to walk all that way, especially at this hour," Trent said.

Scotlyn was relived and a little proud that that was where he ended the sentence. She still hadn't asked him what had happened earlier, but she was beginning to have ideas about _who_ it concerned.

Trent pulled up to the curb near Ellie's car, made sure she was good to drive and waited as she unlocked it and climbed in. Once she pulled onto the road and started driving, he did the same. He looked at Scotlyn with a straight face, but a lot was going on in his eyes.

"I will. Just not tonight," Trent said, anticipating her question.

Scotlyn nodded, fully accepting of that and rolled down her window to enjoy the beautiful night air as they drove home.

# HE TELLS HER, HE TELLS HER NOT

~ 7 ~

Trent dropped his hand onto the alarm clock and rolled onto his back. He rubbed his eyes and slowly opened them only to see Scotlyn sitting on the bed beside him, staring at him.

"It's about John, isn't it?" Scotlyn asked.

Trent moaned and put the pillow over his head. He groaned a muffled, "Coffee."

"All right, but then I want to know," Scotlyn said, hopping off the bed with more energy than any person should have at 6am. She darted to the kitchen to make coffee. Trent tried to fall back to sleep. He didn't have to work until ten and was annoyed at himself for forgetting to set the alarm for a later time. As he laid there thinking, he remembered Scotlyn didn't have work today, which made the fact that she was up and bouncy even harder to comprehend. He usually fell asleep before her and woke up after her. He wondered if she ever actually slowed down enough for sleep to catch hold of her at all. With that fading thought, he drifted off again.

In what seemed like one second later, his alarm was going off again. 6:15am. He moaned louder. He must have hit snooze the first time instead of off. Before he could finish resetting the alarm and take a third stab at some more sleep, Scotlyn walked into the room carrying a cup of coffee.

"Sleep. Must," Trent grumbled.

"OK. Coffee. Mine," Scotlyn said, bringing the cup to her lips and starting to turn.

"No. OK, coffee." Trent efforted to sit up and reached a weak but desperate arm toward the mug. Scotlyn smiled and handed it to him. She waited for him to take a sip before speaking.

"So, last night?" Scotlyn asked.

"You know it takes like fifteen minutes for the caffeine to actually enter your system, right?" Trent asked, rhetorically, knowing his point wasn't going to actually hit its mark. He sat up taller and took another sip.

"If I tell you, will you let me get another hour of sleep?" Trent bargained.

"Yeah, promise."

"All right. When I went outside last night, I saw John. He was maybe a block or two from the parking lot." Trent took another sip of his coffee and then continued. "There was this woman with him. I tried to get an idea of her role from their interaction."

"Wait, John told El that he had to work late and wouldn't be able to get out, right?" Scotlyn clarified.

"Right."

"When you went outside, we had only been there for like an hour, right?"

"Right." Trent waited to see if she had any more impromptu questions.

"OK, continue," she said.

"Well, I was watching them talk and laugh and then he hugged her."

"A hug doesn't automatically implicate him in cheating," Scotlyn said, making an attempt at hopeful.

"Not normally, but if you saw _how_ he hugged her, it was not anything I have ever seen him do with Ellie. Do you remember when he walked over to us at the lake? Ellie hugged him and his hands barely touched her back. What was that? I've hugged you tighter than that even when I was mad at you," Trent said.

"Yeah, I noticed. I always figured maybe he was't big on the whole PDA thing. I'm guessing you saw more though," Scotlyn surmised.

"Yep, unfortunately. When I was about to go back inside, he kissed her."

"Kissed her how?" Scotlyn was still reaching for hope that it wasn't as bad as it looked.

"That's the thing. It wasn't a major kiss or anything, but it was on the lips. I don't kiss anyone but you on the lips. I know some families do, but he wasn't acting like she was related. It was way too...playful."

Scotlyn was staring at the bed trying to think of how it might not be what it seemed like it definitely was. Trent placed his hand on her leg and rubbed it slowly.

"I have to tell her," Trent said, looking at Scotlyn.

"I know why you say that, but I think we should wait. She just got past the worst with her injury, graduated from college and got a new place. She is happy."

"So, we should just let her hang on to some fairytale for as long as John can manage not to get caught?" Trent questioned, in disagreement of her seeming logic.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I just mean that I would hate to make her worry if it really isn't something bad. It looks bad, I know. But it's John. He is more affectionate with people at work and casual friends than he is with the people closest to him. Even at their tumbling class, he hugs everyone. I don't completely understand it, but I know that Ellie knows he is like that. He has never crossed or intended to cross that line though, as far as she says," Scotlyn explained.

"He does that because there is no risk with them," Trent responded. "Strangers, casual friends, people he works with— there is no risk of getting hurt or of commitment or of having to be accountable for anything more than the moment. He can actually enjoy human interaction and emotion without consequence. It's convenient to his custom of always putting himself first, plain and simple."

"That actually makes sense and seems to fit the bill perfectly. But it also kind of validates my point that it might not be as it appears. For another human being, yeah, but maybe not for him. What if we just wait?" Scotlyn pleaded. "We can keep an eye on the situation and if we find he is doing her wrong in some way, we tell her immediately. I just don't want to falsely bring her world crashing down. I think she really loves him."

Trent thought about it for a moment before reluctantly agreeing.

"Can I sleep now?" he grumbled.

"After drinking half a cup of coffee? You can still sleep?" Scotlyn asked seemingly bouncing off the bed once again.

"I can sleep no matter what." Trent placed the mug on the night stand and laid back down. "Wake me in an hour?"

"You got it!" Scotlyn went back to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Three minutes later, Trent's alarm went off again. When he began resetting it the last time, Scotlyn had come in before he adjusted the hour, so he had only managed to set it ahead by seventeen minutes. Scotlyn could hear him from the kitchen. As much as she loved him, she had to chuckle.

"Holy fuck!" Trent cried, grabbing the alarm clock and jerking it to rip the plug out of the wall. He dropped it on the floor and turned over, throwing his head onto the pillow with a firm determination to get some more sleep. But then he smelled the bacon. At this point he was seriously determined to get the sleep he yearned for. Yanking the covers up over his head he decided that this morning he was going to be stronger than bacon.

When an hour had finally passed, Scotlyn gently woke Trent. He rolled onto his back and sighed. "I don't know why I am so tired today."

"Sorry," Scotlyn sympathized. "Until what time do you have to equip surfer dudes with boards and such?"

"No, I'm not working there today. I have that observation thing today at the clinic."

He had volunteered to shadow a psychologist at a prestigious clinic and observe his sessions. The schedule was filled with the patients who had consented to the observance for the experience it would lend to aspiring therapists. It was an excellent opportunity to acquire some real-life perspective of the profession.

"I thought you would be excited about that," Scotlyn said.

"No, no, I am. I _really_ am. I'm just crazy tired and I don't know why. I'm crashing early tonight, just an FYI."

"No problem. I am actually going to my parent's house tonight. My cousins are in town and we used to all be great friends, so I will probably take advantage of the short time they are here and just spend the night there. You will have the place to yourself and complete quiet, so I expect to come home Saturday morning to a not grumpy boyfriend," Scotlyn joked, shooting him a half smile as she got dressed.

"Hey, did I smell bacon earlier?" Trent asked, hopefully.

"You mean right before 'Holy fuck,' rip, slam?"

"Uh...yeah, I think so," Trent said, squinting one eye and scratching his head.

"Yeah, it's on a plate next to the omelette I made you. I put them in the oven to keep them warm. I'm not sure if that actually works, but that's what I did, just incase."

"Did you turn on the oven to the warming setting before you put it in there?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Then it should work."

"Are you going for a jog this morning?" Scotlyn asked.

"Yeah."

"On a full stomach?"

"Crap! I hate when you're right about things like that," he said, discouraged.

"About things like what?"

"About things that delay bacon," Trent clarified.

She laughed.

"Keep it in the oven." Trent got out of bed and threw on some clothes to run in.

"I will. It'll be there when you get back. I, however, may not be. I am going to El's to help her with her new place for a little and then I'm going shopping, but I'll be back here when you get home from work. Maybe we could have an early dinner before I go to my parent's?"

"Yeah, perfect," Trent said, kissing Scotlyn before heading to the front door.

Scotlyn opened the bedroom window to let the fresh spring air in. She finished getting ready and grabbed her bag. As she walked out of the bedroom, Trent came back in the front door, jogged to the oven, grabbed a piece of bacon and ducked back out the door, turning to her and saying, "Just one piece," as he closed it behind himself and jogged away.

She laughed under her breath and threw on a baseball cap, from which flowed her long hair, in full spiraling waves. The cap was in direct contrast with her skirt and sandals, but Scotlyn could pull off pretty much anything. She grabbed a light jacket and left for Ellie's.

Trent ran his five miles in about thirty minutes. He was now happy about having waited to eat, as he enjoyed his breakfast all the more. Once he finished, he washed his plate and fork and took a shower. Trent was rarely clean shaven, usually having some stubble, but today was one of those clean shaven days. With the field he was entering into, he realized there would probably be a lot more of those days, at least until he established himself, but it was definitely not one of the aspects he was looking forward to.

Trent found a shirt and tie and a pair of nice pants, ran a quick comb through his hair and grabbed his wallet. He walked outside and lit a cigarette before locking the front door and getting in his truck.

The clinic was local, only ten minutes away. It was much too close in his opinion, as it left him very little time to think. He wasn't nervous, but after an irritating evening and a crummy sleep, he felt somewhat ill-prepared mentally. Though he was only observing, he wanted to have an intelligent answer if the therapist asked him a question about any of the sessions. It was also about the people that were open enough to allow an observer into the details of their personal life. Trent took the work he aspired to do seriously.

Not wanting to wreak of smoke, Trent inhaled his second cigarette like a prisoner before his execution and then opened the windows as he drove the last couple of minutes. He arrived just before 9am, one hour early, as instructed. He checked himself in the visor mirror, adjusted his tie, and headed inside.

He wasn't two feet in the door before he heard a voice talking to him.

"Mr. Evans. Right on time. I'm Dr. Rutherford and you'll be observing my sessions today. How are you this morning?"

"I'm well, thank you, sir," Trent replied.

"Follow me to my office and I'll go over some preliminaries with you before the first patient arrives," Dr. Rutherford said.

He was a tall man in his mid-sixties with gray hair and excellent posture. His suit was impeccable. It was clearly expensive and somehow did not have a single wrinkle in it. His shoes shined like they were freshly polished a second ago. Trent had felt well-dressed and professional until that moment. He did feel a little better when he noticed no one else, including the other therapists, held a candle to Dr. Rutherford either.

Trent followed him to a small, but richly decorated room. It was a sage green with large mahogany furniture. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase ran the length of the wall behind a matching desk, with a couple of very comfortable-looking leather recliners opposite the desk. A very large, impressive leather rolling chair was behind the desk with a smaller one off to the side, which Trent surmised was for himself. Several plants sat on and near the two window sills, where sunlight worked its way through frosted panes of glass. The only remnants of the clinic that remained in this room was the linoleum flooring, which the doctor at least partially covered with a plush area rug. The room had a warm, comfortable feel to it and the imposing furnishings just added to the credibility people assigned to Dr. Rutherford.

"Psychology even in the decorating," Trent said, almost under his breath, though not with the intention of not being heard.

"Very good. Yes, that is part of it. The other part is you want to like where you work. Yes?" Dr. Rutherford asked, confirming understanding rather than agreement.

"Yes, absolutely," Trent replied.

The doctor explained the procedure of a typical session: the length, objective, protocol, as well as Trent's role and what was and was not acceptable in this specific format. Basically nothing was acceptable, nothing except observing, as it was aptly named. He was not allowed to take notes either, as it was not his client and he was forbidden, by means of a lengthy contract that he had to sign, to speak of, act on, or otherwise utilize knowledge gained from a patient during a session. Trent scribbled his signature and slid the contract back to Dr. Rutherford, who smiled and called in his secretary to make the necessary copies and file them appropriately.

"Do you have anger issues, Trent?" Dr. Rutherford asked, quite out of the blue.

"Do I...I...no, I don't feel I have anger issues," Trent replied, clearly caught off guard by the question.

"Sex addict? Work-a-holic?" The doctor continued probing.

"No, definitely not," Trent answered, stronger this time.

"Do you smoke? Are you an alcoholic? Have commitment issues?" Dr. Rutherford asked.

"Uh, I do smoke, sir, yes," Trent answered, uneasily.

"Perfect! If one of the patients cancels today, you can fill in. Now, are we ready?" Dr. Rutherford asked, seeming lighter now that he had established a contingency plan for his schedule. Trent was unsure whether he was being humorous or if he simply valued fulfilling the schedule he set out to in a given day. It was actually a little of both.

"Yes. I am ready." Trent rolled his chair back a few feet, off to the side of the desk.

Dr. Rutherford sat at his desk and looked over some paperwork in a file, which Trent assumed belonged to his first patient. He studied them with laser focus until a knock at the door interrupted him. The secretary peeked her head in and announced Marjorie, his first appointment. With a nod of the doctor's head, the secretary let the woman in, gesturing toward the recliners. Marjorie took a seat.

Dr. Rutherford looked up from the file, closed the folder and wheeled his chair around to the front of the desk, facing the woman. He brought a small notebook and pen with him after hitting record on a voice recorder. He placed the pad on his lap and clasped his hands, resting them upon it.

"Hello, Marjorie. How are you, today?" Dr. Rutherford asked.

Marjorie had been going to therapy for over a year. She was in the middle of her second divorce from a husband who beat her. The first divorce was for the same reason. Marjorie had a history of this even from her days in college. She was in her early thirties and withdrawn in both speech and posture. She looked much older than her years. Marjorie rarely made eye contact and despite wanting to get to a better place, she often made excuses for the very men she was trying to escape.

"A little better. Steve is not making the divorce easy. I don't understand why he wants me if he abuses me when he has me," Marjorie said.

"Keeping you makes him feel powerful, just as his abuse made him feel powerful," the doctor said.

"How do I get him to stop causing so much trouble?" she asked.

"Well, I am not a lawyer, so I cannot answer that in the way that you are asking. What I can tell you is that you need to stand firm. This is a cycle you want to break out of and each time you do anything other than stand firm, you are taking a step backwards, delaying the closing of this chapter of your life, if you will," Dr. Rutherford said.

"I try. He doesn't make it easy. He has a girlfriend. It isn't like he doesn't have anyone else. They all have girlfriends. I have had the same awful luck with men since college," Marjorie mumbled.

"That was around the time your best friend...'stabbed you in the back'... I believe were the words you used? You said she started dating a guy you liked and when you confronted her, she became defensive and ended your friendship, a very long and dear friendship, if I recall. It was not luck that the next man you met was abusive or unfaithful. You were at a low point. You felt vulnerable and betrayed and probably a bit worthless, am I right?" Dr. Rutherford asked.

"Yeah, I did. I felt like I lost my sister," she answered.

"And you met someone who was a perfect reflection of the way you felt about yourself. His actions only further imbued the feeling and you didn't do anything to change that opinion of yourself before you met the next guy, or the next, or the next. This cycle is not a statement of who you are, but rather of what you have thought of yourself. The better you feel about yourself, the higher the quality of persons will be attracted into your life," the doctor explained.

"Does that apply to my friends too? I mean, is that why no one ever warned me, or let me know what was going on, or told me I could do better? Is that why they just let me drown?" Marjorie asked.

"What made you end it with your boyfriend in college?" Dr. Rutherford asked.

"I didn't. He ended up hurting someone and he went to jail. That is pretty much what ended that one."

"How long were you with him?"

"Three years," she answered.

"How many of those years was he abusive?"

"Pretty much all of them," she answered.

"What made you stay?"

"He was a lot of fun to be with most of the time, especially at first. When he told me he loved me, I could see in his eyes that he really meant it. We had so much in common and I thought if he could see how much I loved him too, that he would stop doing the things he did," she answered.

"You stayed because you needed to be loved by him. You associated him loving you with you being worthy of being loved. If he stayed, your best friend was the nothing. If he didn't, she was right— you were the nothing. The longer you were with him, the more punctuated the outcome, so you endured. It was not for love and not for having found your perfect match; it was an attempt at feeling good about yourself again. It just wasn't a path that could lead there and, in fact, it lead you in the exact opposite direction. As for your friends, they can't respect you any more than you respect yourself, not for long anyway," Dr. Rutherford said.

The conversation continued until her hour was filled. There was a lot of repetition, both in the questions asked and in the answers the doctor gave, though he often found several ways to get to the same answer, in the hopes that one of them would click within her. It was a slow and potentially frustrating process. He could clearly see what she could not. It was so simple from the outside, but not even close to simple from the inside.

There was something about the conversation that was hitting all too close to home for Trent, though. When Marjorie had finally left, Trent was eager to find a moment to ask Dr. Rutherford some questions, but between his writing notes and then being handed the next patient's file by the secretary, Trent felt awkward about interrupting. As luck would have it, the next knock at the door was the secretary telling Dr. Rutherford that his 11:15am was running about twenty minutes late.

"Well, Mr. Evans, would you like to switch seats or remain where you are?"

Trent realized in that moment that perhaps it was more than humorous or schedule-filling; perhaps being in the position of the patient might offer a different perspective and foster a more well-rounded understanding and, therefore, education. It was astounding how narrow his own view felt each time he realized the scope of Dr. Rutherford's awareness. He was clearly several moves ahead and allowed Trent to continue to realize his reasoning in his own time.

Trent decided he was fine in the chair he was in, so the doctor simply spun his chair around to face Trent, pad in lap.

"Shall we speak on this addiction of yours?" Dr. Rutherford asked.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I understand the reason for my actions. My dad treated me like shit and when I started smoking there was probably some part of me that subconsciously believed his opinion of me, so I didn't treat myself any better. It was also a form of rebellion. But that was a long time ago. I no longer feel empty. I don't want to hurt myself. That isn't why I do it anymore. I like who I am and what I am doing with my life and I do plan to quit. It isn't what I want for myself or for my girlfriend, but quite frankly I also enjoy it and I have to quit when it feels right for me."

Trent was feeling very good about his answer and how much it revealed that he knew himself well and was sound in his reasoning. The doctor sat back, resting his clasped fingers over his upper abdomen. He had a devious smile on his face and what looked to be a twinkle of pride in his eyes.

"Is it something you do often throughout the day?" Dr. Rutherford asked, after a long pause.

Trent hesitated a moment before admitting, "Yeah."

"So, two to three packs a day, would you say?"

Trent took a deep breath, knowing this was going somewhere and replied, "Yes."

"That's all a result of the enjoyment it brings?" Dr. Rutherford questioned intelligently. Trent realized the twinkle he'd seen was actually the doctor humoring him and he realized how much he still had to learn.

"Not entirely. I understand where you're going," Trent said, hoping to bring an end to his own mock session so he could ask the question he had about the last patient.

"Excuse me, Dr. Rutherford. Could I ask you something?" Trent finally asked, politely.

The doctor smiled eagerly. "Certainly! Go ahead. What is your question?"

"Well, it's possible I know the answer to this, but I'd very much like to hear what you have to say on the matter. What could Marjorie have done differently with that first boyfriend to have gotten back to the right path and avoid all the future disasters that followed?"

"She would have needed to find a higher state. You see, she felt like a victim, which is right down there with fear and depression and all the other powerless emotions. If she had found, say, anger, she may have freed herself from the loop of despair and desperation. When a human allows another human to mistreat them, they usually believe the mistreatment is due to something they are doing wrong, rather than the abuser. They are believing that their happiness lies outside of themselves and often they give up their power to that which they feel can provide it. It's an exchange: if I behave in a way that pleases you, you will love me and if you love me, I will feel good. The more they give up their power, the more unhappy they are and therefore the more they long for that happiness, so the more desperate they become to do whatever it takes to acquire it. So, to answer your question another way, she would have needed to take back her power, not give it up. Because of the many associations he represented, the longer she stayed with him, the more impossible that was to even consider," Dr. Rutherford explained.

"Would her friends have been wrong to help her?" Trent asked.

"Not wrong, no. Neither would they have likely been successful, though. There is a good chance she would have resented them for it and continued with him full steam ahead, as now she would have had something to prove to them as well."

"Is there no way for a friend to help someone in that situation then?"

"In my opinion, you try anyway," Dr. Rutherford advised. "If you don't and they find out later that you could have, it often goes very badly. Secondly, if it eats you up inside not to offer your insight, then you aren't going to feel very good about yourself, in which case you are, in essence, right behind them on that path they're choosing."

"Can Marjorie ever have a healthy relationship? Be happy?" Trent asked.

"To answer that question would violate the confidence between my client and I. The hypotheticals were fine, but this question I cannot answer relative to Marjorie. What I can say, on a more general note, is that I do not believe there are lost causes in this world. That does not, however, mean that many won't remain on the path they are on. A support system can be a wonderful thing, but, ultimately, only the individual can decide what they will, or will not, do. Now, I have a feeling you are relating what you heard here today to someone you know personally. I see it often. Without prying, what I will say is that not everyone who gets cheated on or abused takes the path of Marjorie, but enough allow the experience to change their self-image and since that affects every choice they make going forward, if it were me, I would take the chance and speak to this person. That is just my personal opinion. Remember though, ultimately, they are the ones that have to find that strength."

"So what is my action accomplishing?" Trent asked.

"You are being true to yourself, your beliefs and your friend. You are essentially pushing up the deciding moment, where they have to choose themselves or lose themselves." Dr. Rutherford shifted in his seat, crossing his legs the opposite direction. "You can also take a less direct route and be the voice that builds them up. If they are accepting less than what is good for themselves, they have probably been being fed a lot of the opposite, whether in word or deed."

Dr. Rutherford looked at his watch. "We have ten minutes or so until the next patient arrives. If you'd like to step outside to do that which you enjoy so much, you may. It is going to be a long day."

"Thank you," Trent said, standing and walking toward the door. The experience was definitely a valuable one, though he felt inept in Dr. Rutherford's presence, despite being at the top of his class for four straight years.

"Mr. Evans," Dr. Rutherford called, as Trent's hand was reaching for the doorknob. "Do you wish to know why you smoke? Not why everyone who does, does, as each person is different, but the reason why _you_ do." Dr. Rutherford looked directly at Trent as he turned from the door. "Do you wish to know why you continue to smoke?"

Trent knew his answer would not disappoint, so he gently nodded.

"You have come a long way. You have rebuilt yourself, created a life that you cherish and you work very hard to maintain that life and strive to keep it growing. But you aren't out of the woods yet. You are still in school, still require a substantial income to reach your career goals, while maintaining a relationship, a house and, occasionally, a life. You aren't stable yet, not to your belief. Your tension never fully settles. The thought of losing it all and ending up back where you started terrifies you and that feels weak. No one likes to feel they are powerless to reach a better place and weakness is not always easy for someone who spent years building up a you-can't-tell-me-what-to-do attitude. That was how you escaped the stance of weakness and powerlessness the first time, when your father mistreated you. Your resulting chain of actions all followed suit. To you, weakness feels like having nothing, so when you fear you will fail, you are brought face to face with that potential result and you fight your way from it in the same way you did the first time— you rebel by doing what you should not. You find strength in that, in rebellion, in symbolism. You're using something that hurts you to prove that nothing can. It is also the one thing that still ties you to the life you had. You have not let go of that lifeline. As long as you smoke, you can't completely fail because you never completely succeeded and that one tiny, almost ridiculous, detail may be the very thing that keeps the loss from being unbreathable...keeps the scale just shy of tipping, so to speak."

Dr. Rutherford continued, "I commend you, you found your strength. When you quit is when you will find your freedom."

Trent stood silent. Dr. Rutherford was entirely correct, but hearing it organized into words was powerful, terrifying, comforting and inspiring all at the same time. Trent was beginning to understand why Dr. Rutherford was so renowned and he was grateful for the honor of getting to learn from him.

"I will see you in eight minutes," Dr. Rutherford said, freeing Trent from his paralysis.

Trent stepped outside and grabbed his Camels and lighter from his truck. He lit one and inhaled deeply before leaning over, his hands on his knees, his head down as he blew the smoke toward the ground. He stood back up, rubbing his forehead with his hand. He was torn. He was tired from the poor night's sleep and fighting not to ruin the opportunity of observing Dr. Rutherford. He didn't expect so much of the day to be hitting so close to home on top of it. He was vacillating between feeling like an intuitive, intelligent, pre-professional man and feeling like a screwed up kid.

Trent walked behind his truck and sat on the fender. Dr. Rutherford had just delivered the in-depth reality of why he stills smokes and now it was all he wanted to do, long and hard. That rebellion the doctor spoke of was alive and well. But he wanted to do one thing even more: make the most of this opportunity, so when his eight minutes were up, he took himself and his new attitude back inside to learn all he could from this brilliant man, a genius in his field.

The sessions that filled the rest of the day ran back to back, so Trent didn't get to ask any further questions until the end. Dr. Rutherford had a meeting at the end of the day, but he did allow Trent the short amount of time that he had to answer some of his questions. Before Trent left, Dr. Rutherford informed him that he was one of the doctors that Trent would be working with during his summer internship which would start the following week. It was incredible news and an unparalleled opportunity. Dr. Rutherford was not originally one of the participating doctors at the time Trent qualified for the program.

Trent got in his truck, turned up the radio and attempted to relax. But he couldn't. His day wasn't over yet. He was headed to Ellie's place.

# HE TELLS HER

~ 8 ~

Trent pulled into the long driveway that lead back to Ellie's cottage. The entire drive there, he had been thinking about how he was going to tell her what he saw. Ellie was his girlfriend's best friend, almost more of a sister to her, and that mattered to Trent. He also liked Ellie and thought she was a good person and considered her a good friend. He did not want to see her get hurt. He also did not want his girlfriend getting hurt indirectly. Of course, with as little respect as he had for John's lack of character, he probably even would have extended himself to help a stranger know the truth about him.

He turned off his truck and sat there for a moment. He knew it wasn't going to get easier, so he got out and walked to the front door. Before he could knock, Ellie opened it.

"Hi," Ellie said.

"Hi. Sorry to just drop in like this."

"No, it's fine. I don't mind you dropping in at all." Ellie gestured for him to come in. "I saw the headlights shining in the window— the downside of living in the backyard of another house— so I went to the window and saw your truck. Do you want something to drink?"

Ellie had paint smudges on her face, hands and clothes from the project she was working on. Despite all the windows being open, the fumes were unmistakeable.

"Uh, no, no. I'm good, thanks," Trent said, his mind on the task at hand.

"So, what's up?" Ellie asked, moving into the living room and sitting on the edge of the couch. Her elbows rested on her knees, her chin rested on her fists and she looked to Trent, waiting for him to speak.

Trent took a few steps into the living room, but remained standing.

"Look, El, I have to tell you something. It isn't an easy thing to tell, but I wouldn't feel right about myself if I didn't. You're Scot's best friend and you're my friend, too. The last thing I want to do is hurt you or embarrass you, but if I do, please just know that it was not intentional and that I care about you," Trent began his preamble.

"Trent, you're kind of scaring me now," Ellie said, softly.

"I'm sorry, El. I'll just get to it. Last night when we were all at Wingin' It, I stepped outside to grab a smoke and I saw John. It was probably an hour or more before we left to walk to the lake. He was a few blocks away and he had a friend with him. I use the term friend loosely, because I don't actually know who it was, except that it was a 'she' and he hugged her tightly and he kissed her. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but it was a kiss. I know I could be completely off the mark and I hope I am."

Ellie lifted her chin off her knuckles and crossed her arms on her lap, leaning on them and looking at the coffee table.

"I'm not trying to mess things up for you, El. I know it's your business and what you do is between you and John, but I thought you had a right to know." He took a deep breath, starring at her and waiting for her to speak.

Ellie looked up at him. "Trent, you've known John for a while, right?" she asked, a bit solemnly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I have."

Ellie looked into his eyes sincerely. "Am I kidding myself," she asked, her guard almost completely down.

Trent walked over to the couch and sat beside her, pretty much mimicking the way she was seated. "El, how honest do you want me to be?"

Ellie felt herself tense further and despite the bad feeling she got, at this moment, she did want to hear. "Completely honest."

Trent looked down at his hands and nodded subtly. Where most people paused to think about what they were going to say, Trent usually knew what he was going to say. When he paused, it was usually in an attempt to enter a difficult dialogue gently and with the proper timing.

"I think you are an amazing person and I doubt if he has ever had someone as good as you. Despite anything else, I know he knows that. I think you are pretty much exactly who he would want, if he were the person he could be instead of the person he is," Trent began.

Ellie looked confused.

"I don't know if something happened in his life or if it's just who he is, but I have heard him talk plenty when we used to work on our bikes. It's like he wants to love, but he only can to a certain degree. In the end he protects himself, puts himself first. That has never changed. Unlike a healthy man, the more you love him, the more he just feels he owns the situation. It doesn't translate the way it should. You're loving and caring and sweet. You never nag him, you aren't stuck to his side. You are understanding and fun and beautiful and talented. Any guy who had a girl like you, a girl who showed them they could be in love and still be free to be who they are, would count his lucky stars. He would hold on to you and never let go.

"El, I don't think you can save him. I think that's what you are trying to do, to fix him, to help him heal in the hopes that you are the one he can finally be whole with. But I'm not sure that this isn't just who he is or that he has any hopes or intentions of becoming anything other than what he now is." Trent looked at Ellie, turning toward her more. She stared down at the coffee table, taking in his words and doing her best to consider them, despite not wanting him to be right.

"I can't say if you are kidding yourself or not. I just don't want you to lose yourself over someone who may not be capable of living up to the belief you have in him. I think he loves you, but I also think you have to ask yourself this: if the way he loves now is all he is ever capable of, will it be enough?" Trent paused to let Ellie speak, wanting to know where her head was at this point.

Ellie was thoughtful for a few moments before softly beginning to speak. "When he is with strangers, he is at his best— better than most people even. He is open and light-hearted and fun. He is caring and affectionate. He isn't afraid to care for them or give someone he barely knows a hug. It's actually a great attribute," Ellie rambled softly. "It's just me..."

"Not you. Him. This is how he is with any girl he is with. Between the hours of guy-talk and actually seeing him with some of them, trust me when I tell you that this is about him. It is not just with you," Trent said, insistently.

"Why, though? Why care so easily about those who care nothing for you, but lock yourself away so impenetrably from those who actually love you?" Ellie asked, almost desperate for any wisdom Trent might be able to offer.

"There could be a lot of reasons, El. Me sitting here guessing which one it is isn't going to help."

"But I have seen those defenses come down," Ellie challenged. "I've seen love in his eyes. There were times it felt normal and natural and perfect. How can it be there sometimes and not be able to be there more, eventually?"

"Maybe it can, El. Maybe it can. But maybe it can't, too," Trent said.

"What if it can, but I don't give it a chance? What if I miss out on the man for me because I didn't give it enough time? What if he never finds someone that loves him completely enough that he can feel free to love and all that greatness I know is inside him just wastes away, when it could have been so incredible? I feel like I will be the one responsible for everything that will never be, if I walk away," Ellie said, sincerely troubled.

"How long is long enough?" Trent asked rhetorically. Ellie subtly shook her head. "You could spend your life waiting for that breakthrough, because you can't see what the next moment holds and the next and the next. If it isn't enough now, what makes it enough tomorrow?" Trent posed.

Ellie was clearly feeling worse and worse and he didn't want to destroy her hope. That wasn't his purpose. He just wanted her to see the situation more clearly and care about herself a little more. He didn't want her to become a Marjorie.

"El, look, I'm not saying that it is hopeless. I'm saying you have a lot of people who love you and none of us want to see you hold out longer than is good for you. It's admirable, your thoughts. But you are not responsible for giving up the life you dream for while you hope he will find the one you dream for him. He has to dream his own life. He knows what you bring. He knows your love. And it didn't take him a year and a half to know it; he knew very early. At some point you have to ask yourself if what you have now is enough, were it to remain as it is. If the answer is no, you have to decide how long you want to give it to change and you have to be honest with him about the life you wish for yourself. It is up to him if he wants that life too."

"What if I never find someone I love as much as I do him?" Ellie asked.

"Everybody wonders that and I know that you love him, but I think what you really mean is 'What if I never feel this good again?' How often are you feeling good though and how often are you waiting to feel good, dreaming about feeling good? And if you want a more direct answer, El, every love is unique. You can love someone else as much, maybe more. You can find someone equally good for you, or even better for you, but still each 'right' person is perfect in their own way and touches upon different aspects of what is important to you. Some will overlap and you will definitely benefit from and take with you aspects of this relationship. It's hard to see that, though, when you're so immersed in it."

"I don't think he would cheat on me," Ellie said, mostly trying to console her own worry.

"All right. I am not saying he was. It is just info I thought you should have. I'm on your side, El, even when my opinion differs," Trent assured her.

"I know. Thanks. And I don't know that I'm ready to give up on him, but I did hear what you said and I know it wasn't easy to come here and tell me what you saw. I appreciate that you did it."

"Well, I won't make much of a therapist one day if I don't take the advice I would give to someone else."

"If it means anything, you're going to be a good one. Actually, you already are," Ellie said, smiling warmly.

"It does mean something. It means a lot. Thank you." Trent stood up. "Well, I will let you get back to cottage life," he said, jokingly, "and be on my way. I am having an early dinner with Scot before she heads to her parents' for the night."

"Wild party planned? Poker? Baseball game with the guys replete with chips and grunting?"

"Hey, I resent that," Trent joked back. "Actually I am going to bed early. I mean like old man early!"

Ellie laughed. Trent gave her a hug before walking to the door. He turned around one more time.

"Hey, don't drive yourself crazy overthinking anything tonight. As things play out, you'll know what to do. And...uh...step outside for some fresh air every now and then," Trent said, with an intentionally hokey thumbs up and showed himself out.

Ellie was torn. Part of her felt she and John were too right to deny and the other part of her resonated with the kind of opinions that Trent had, though inside she felt herself fighting every word. That only made her more afraid that she was fighting a losing battle. And still the connection she and John shared was undeniable.

It was all jumbled up inside of her mind and spilling over into her body in the form of tension, so she tried to take Trent's advice and not think about it tonight. Though easier said than done, she had plenty of things to do to keep her occupied. Scotlyn had spent the afternoon with her painting the bedroom. It still wasn't finished though and that was what Ellie intended to do. She turned on her music and headed back to the bedroom to finish the project and not think about her possibly cheating and hopelessly unreachable boyfriend.

Trent drove through the streets of Isolde's Tyme, back to his place where Scotlyn was waiting for him. While he was starving and looking forward to dinner with her, he knew he would first tell her that he told Ellie about John and the mystery woman. It just felt like the day that wouldn't end.

When he got home and walked in the door, he was greeted by the scent of dinner cooking. He closed the door behind him, dropped his laptop case on the floor and exhaled markedly. "My God, that smells incredible!"

Scotlyn smiled before gesturing to his bag and saying, "You know one day there's going to actually be a laptop in there and you're not going to be able to drop it like that anymore, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he said, tiredly. Currently his laptop case only held paperwork, a pen and whatever book he was actively reading, but, someday, he did plan to add a laptop to it.

"Bad day?" Scotlyn asked, as Trent collapsed on the couch.

"Great day," he corrected, with his eyes closed and head back, "but also a rough one. And it's not over yet." He pulled himself from the couch and walked back into the kitchen. "Don't freak, it went fine, but I told Ellie what I saw."

"Whoa, you told her? I don't get it. Why?" Scotlyn asked.

"Something I heard during one of the sessions I observed today. I just saw how badly it could go and when I combined that with some fairly sage advise from one of the country's top psychologists, I decided I couldn't not. It didn't feel right to me to not say anything."

"Is the thing you heard in the session one of those things you can't tell me?" Scotlyn asked.

"Pretty much."

Scotlyn paused for a moment. She understood the confidentiality thing. "I suddenly feel like a horrible friend for telling you to keep it from her. I feel like a pretty crummy girlfriend, too, to be honest with you," Scotlyn confessed.

"Not at all. Whatever your reasons, your intentions were in the best interest of Ellie. I know that."

"She's been doing so well lately. I just didn't want her to lose momentum. Losing the part in the movie and facing the possibility of never doing what she always dreamed of doing, really hit her hard. All of this John stuff is not helping, but I know she has a lot of hope invested in that guy. When Ellie falls in love, she falls hard," Scotlyn tried to explain, while also tending to the dinner she was cooking.

"I know and maybe your way would have been better, I can't say," Trent acknowledged. "All I do know is that I'm the one that saw something and personally it didn't feel right to me to wait. If it were me, I think I'd want to be told."

"I'm sorry. I royally suck right now," Scotlyn said, genuinely feeling badly that she asked the man she loved to do something that felt wrong to him, as well as not telling her best friend something that— maybe Trent was right— she had the right to know.

Trent walked over to Scotlyn and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind. "Hey babe, I'm not mad at you and neither would Ellie be," he whispered, before kissing her check, rocking ever so slightly. He slowly released her and gently took her arm, turning her to face him.

"Now, how about that dinner? I have about an hour of life left in me and I'd like to use half of it to eat whatever smells so good on that stove," he said, smiling as much as his tiredness would allow.

"I kind of wish I wasn't going to hang out with my cousins tonight," Scotlyn said, smiling at him.

"But you are," he said, as she got the plates out, "which gives me a whole night to catch up on my sleep so tomorrow night I can remind you of that wish."

"Very sly. I hope I'm remindable," she smirked.

"Oh, I think you will be," he parried.

They enjoyed a great dinner together and some light conversation, bouncing from one topic to another. After dinner, Trent started to help Scotlyn clean up, but his phone rang. It was the facility where his father lived.

"Mr. Evans? This is Carrie over at Willow Glen. I am calling to let you know that your father will be going in for some tests this week. There is nothing to be alarmed about. As you may know, he has been increasingly changeable and we want to make sure it isn't related to his original injury.

"If it isn't, will they run further tests to see exactly what it is?" Trent asked.

"As far as his insurance will allow, yes," she said.

Trent tensed at the absurdity, but continued calmly. "I am going to be visiting him sometime this week. I'd like you to keep me informed of the tests and results as they come up. I'd also like to be told what is recommended, whether his insurance covers it or not."

"Certainly, Mr. Evans."

"Call me Trent, please."

"Of course, Trent. I will call you with updates," she said.

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

Trent walked into the living room and fell into the couch, staring straight ahead, deep in thought. Scotlyn looked out from the kitchen. She closed the dishwasher and walked into the living room, sitting on the coffee table in front of Trent.

"Everything OK with your dad?"

"Yeah, they...uh...they want to run a bunch tests. He is still all over the charts and it isn't getting better. In fact, it's gotten worse," Trent said, somewhat distracted by the worry he felt.

"Then tests are a good thing, right? They can see what's really going on and—"

"Tests aren't going to show anything," he interjected.

"How do you know?"

"I don't know for certain. I just have a feeling. Even if the tests do show something, there is so much more they are not addressing. There are so many things they are just ignoring completely and I feel like I'm running out of time," Trent said, the last part of the sentence barely audible.

"Running out of time, did you say? Time for what?"

Trent tried to shrug it off and change the subject. "I have to pick up some extra shifts. Some of the tests might not be covered. At worst, I suppose I could just drop a class," he said, more thinking out loud than being a part of a conversation.

"Hey," Scotlyn said, in an effort to snap him out of it. "You aren't dropping a class. You've worked too hard. We will figure this out. My parents would help, if we asked," she said and continued quickly and in a louder voice to overcome the rebuttal he was about to throw in, "and I know you don't want to do that, but it is there if we need it. Now, why do you feel like you're running out of time?"

Trent sat up and leaned forward, his forearms leaning on his knees.

"I want to help him. I'm the reason he is how he is and _where_ he is. The relationship he and I had and the consequential outcome thereof, is the reason I chose to get into psychology. I thought maybe I could help people change course before they got to the point that he and I did; prevention was the goal. But the more I learned and the more I read...and not the mainstream stuff, but the theories that revolved around the core of who we are and how we function...the more I came to believe there might be a way I can actually help _him_ ," Trent confessed, sincerely.

"I thought there was physical damage though," Scotlyn said.

"There is and maybe that will be the reason it won't work, but there is an equally good chance that what I am talking about could be the very thing that heals the physical part. I know it is the opposite of what we are taught about how things work, but I have seen a lot better results from things that run contrary to those beliefs than with those methods that follow the rules. I must sound crazy, I know," he laughed under his breath.

Scotlyn reached out her arm and let her hand cup the back of his neck, empathetically.

"I just truly believe there is a way and I keep hoping I will learn what I need to before...while he is..." Trent couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. "I want to fix this, Scot. I don't want to spend the rest of my life having to tell this story. I want it to be different than this. I caused this; I want to be the one to fix it. Hell, I don't even care if it isn't me who fixes it. But if they don't, I will. Right now, it feels like they aren't even close. And neither am I."

"Hun, I know you blame yourself and I would, too. But he spent years treating you horribly—"

"He was hurting. Badly. He lost the love of his life, while _he_ was driving and on his way to pick _me_ up. Is it any wonder he hates himself and me?" Trent defended.

"I know. I can't even imagine. But how much could you take? What if you hadn't defended yourself? A day might have come when he hurt you badly, or even killed you, accidentally, of course." Scotlyn was trying to be the voice of reason, as gently as possible.

"I was on drugs for years. If I hadn't been I could have moved out of that situation after high school, got a job, my own place. But I didn't. I just kept using and escaping. I had become incredibly angry over those last couple years. If I hadn't been and if I hadn't been high when he came at me, it would have been different. I would have defended myself, but I wouldn't have fought back. I fought back, Scot! This didn't just happen. I did it," Trent insisted, the pain from years ago flooding back to the surface, tears filling his eyes. The stress of the day and the exhaustion he felt weren't helping him maintain the strong front he wanted to, but he wiped his eyes quickly with his palm and got right back to an even keel.

"Ya know, today, Dr. Rutherford took a stab at why I smoke."

"What did he say?"

"Just that I did it because I am not fully believing that I have escaped my past...that you can't fully fail at something you never fully embraced. And that I do something that hurts me to prove that nothing can. He was right on both counts. He knows I used to do it because I was rebelling and I think he also knows that at some point it was because I hated myself for what I had done, who I had become. Logically, I know it wasn't entirely me and I also know that I have become someone I can be proud of, but if he saw some tiny part of me that was still punishing myself, I wouldn't deny the possibility," Trent confessed.

"You want to hurt yourself?" Scotlyn asked, scared.

Trent brought his hand to her cheek and looked into her eyes. "No, Scot," he said, softly. "No. I don't. I want to be well and I want to be with you and I want to do good things in my life. I'm just saying I'm human and maybe there is some small part of myself that still hasn't completely forgiven me."

Trent brought his hand back to his lap and paused a few moments in thought. "He missed one thing. I doubt he could have known this," he said, thinking, before he continued. "My dad used to smoke, back when things were good. My parents had good jobs and we had a big house, nice car. They were great people. My dad always said it was his one bad habit." Trent smiled at the thought of the memory.

"I remember when he had to work late and he'd get home after I was already in bed. I used to lay awake until he got home. First I would hear the door, then I would smell the smoke from his cigarette, then he would kiss mom and then I knew he was on his way upstairs to say goodnight to me. That bad habit had a positive association in my mind." Trent was smiling, lost in the daze of the imagery. His face quickly became weary again.

"After the car accident, he started drinking and once he lost his job he couldn't afford both habits, so he gave up the tobacco. He became a sea of bad habits. Funny, he gave up the only one that reminded me of the great dad he used to be— the only thing that would have made him look familiar to me."

Trent looked at Scotlyn. "That's about when I started. I felt like I had lost everything else; I didn't want to lose the memory, too.

"You can't get a family more messed up than that, I know," Trent said, laughing sarcastically under his breath, as he started to stand up. "A perfect family that turned into such a horror that the kid hangs on to the scent of a bad habit just to remember his dad by. If that isn't a lousy chapter of a life, I don't know what it."

"Trent, you were just a kid trying to hold on to the good and you did what you had to do to survive when that stopped working," Scotlyn said, earnestly.

"Scot. Don't. I know, I just can't think about it anymore tonight. It's too much to understand or organize from the way I feel right now. It's something I have to do when my head is clearer. I need to get some sleep— a lot of it." Trent walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Scotlyn watched, wanting to help, wanting to say something that would make him feel better. She wished she had some wise words that could change his past into something other than the horrible experience it was. Other than it shaping Trent's decision to help others, she was hard-pressed to find the good in it, so how could she help him to?

Trent walked into the bedroom to change and crash for the night. Scotlyn hated to leave him alone, but she knew it's what he wanted. She knew it wasn't personal, he just wanted to sleep it off. She had her bags ready and by the door, so she began to gather them to head to her parents' when Trent walked out of the bedroom. He had some loose flannel pants on and a white t-shirt and looked like he was five minutes away from passing out. When he looked over to where she was, his walk became more purposeful and he headed directly to the bags, picked them up and put them in her car. He went back inside, walked up to her and gave her a hug, holding tightly as if allowing himself one moment of comfort. He kissed her cheek.

"Goodnight. Sorry about all that." Trent gestured loosely to the area where they had been sitting when they had the conversation. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun with your cousins," he said, walking back to the bedroom.

"Love you. Sleep well," Scotlyn said and headed out the door to her car.

Trent climbed into bed, laying down with his hands behind his head. As usual, he had a calm, controlled exterior, but inside, beneath the logic and the level-headedness, he was overwhelmed and angry and uneasy about the desperation he was now beginning to feel at the thought that he might be running out of time. Everything else in his life was going great and he had felt like he was on track with his dad. It wasn't until that evening's phone call that he began suddenly feeling like he might never be able to make amends in the way he wanted to— needed to. And for the first time, he really was feeling like his current life was in danger, everything he loved and had worked for.

He lay there hoping that his exhausted mind was blowing things all out of proportion and that in the morning, he would be able to see things more clearly, feel the confidence and the clarity he needed to stay on course, maintain his new life and also find a way to help his dad.

Within a couple minutes, he was out. He slept soundly for the next fourteen hours. When he did wake up the next day, he felt a lot better. He was clear on what he needed to do and more determined in his agenda, but as far as the previous twenty-four hours were concerned, he told Scotlyn, "Let's just chalk it up to a rough day."

# SATURDAY

~ 9 ~

Ellie woke up to the sound of a text. She rubbed her eyes and reached for her phone. It was from John.

Hey, are you around? I'll swing by.

Ellie texted that she needed a few minutes and leaped out of bed. She ran to the shower, excited by the fact that she would be seeing John in a little while. She had almost forgotten about Trent's visit last night and she was lost in the power of John's charm.

She took the world's fastest shower and threw on some clothes, mentally defining them as 'clothes that prove I can throw something on in a heartbeat and still look like I stepped out of a magazine.' At least that's what she was hoping they said, since she didn't have time to get ready the way she would have liked.

"Can I come in?" followed two brief knocks.

"Yeah, come in."

John walked in, exuding a strong presence that was in direct contrast to his actual level of confidence. He walked right up to Ellie, gently placing his hands on her waist and pulled her close to him. He wore a cocky smile and smelled fresh, as though he had just stepped out of the shower himself. His hands were so warm on her cool skin and she felt the heat radiate throughout her body. He leaned forward and kissed her, deeply, in the way she always desired him to, but which he hadn't since their first real date several months ago.

"What's gotten into you, Romeo?"

"Nothing. I'm just happy to see you. Would you want go out to dinner tonight? We can take my bike."

"Like a real date?" Ellie softly joked, hiding the growing excitement within her.

"Yes. A reeeaaal date." John smiled at her, his blue eyes almost sparkling. He seemed uncharacteristically relaxed and open.

"I would love that. Promise me you won't go 130mph though," she smiled.

"No faster than 125, promise."

The truth was that John's motorcycle scared Ellie, but the feeling of hanging on to him tightly, of placing her trust in his skill and strength, was too enticing to deny. She wanted to believe in him, despite a feeling within her that wasn't quite sure she could.

Ellie had seen how sincere, loving and open John could be. She had felt the powerful connection they had and she knew he felt it too. In fact, he was the one who felt it first and it grew much deeper. Having seen that, felt that, she had convinced herself that everything else was the anomaly and found herself always waiting for that natural, powerful connection they had to overcome everything else and become the norm. Every time it resurfaced, even the times it was just a glimpse, it gave her hope that...soon.

It didn't even matter to Ellie that John stayed all of five minutes. This was different. He came to ask her out to dinner. This was progress. This was positive. This meant there really was hope for them. And for the rest of the morning she allowed herself to believe that.

Ellie scrambled to get ready for work after John left. She threw a couple waffles in the toaster, put on her sneakers and grabbed her make-shift breakfast on the way out the door. It was Saturday, the day she mowed the lawn at the cemetery.

Normally there would be no reason to rush. The five acre cemetery was part of a historic church that was no longer used, so there was not actually anyone there to notice her arrival. As long as the grass got cut on Saturday, it didn't matter what time she did it. But the owner only provided her with a lawnmower fit for a small residential property, so it took the better part of 5 hours to complete. Ellie was not going to be late for her date and she was determined to have ample time to get ready and look her absolute best, which meant she couldn't waste a moment. On the way to the cemetery, she called Scotlyn.

"Guess what, guess what, guess what!" Ellie was nearly jumping in her seat.

"You won the lottery and you're on your way to my house to share!"

"Why does everyone guess the lottery?" She wrinkled her nose, then shook her head, as if clearing it and moving on. "Better than the lottery!"

"What's better than that? Ooh, I know, I won the lottery too so we don't _have_ to share?!"

Ellie ignored her friend, knowing this could go on for a while and got right to it. "John is taking me out to dinner tonight. An actual date!"

"How is that better than winning the lottery? More unlikely, yes, but better?"

"Would you stop and just be happy for me?"

"You know I am. That's incredible! What did you put in his drink?"

"Yeah, don't think that hadn't begun to cross my mind," Ellie laughed. "Can you believe it? I am soooo excited!"

"I am so, so happy for you! Maybe you were right. Maybe he just needed some time."

"He just has to see that I'm not _her._ I know he is happy with me, I just don't know if he trusts that it's real. But dinner...maybe he is believing it, finally?"

"I hope so. It's about time."

"I'm so crazy excited!"

"Crazy, CRAZY excited!" Scotlyn laughed, happy for her friend. "Do you want me to come over and help you get ready later?"

"YES!"

"See ya tonight," Scotlyn said, after a few more minutes of screeching, girl talk and laughter. They hung up and Ellie began driving in her own lane again.

She pulled up to the church and hopped out of her Jeep, still walking on air from the thought of the morning past and the evening ahead. She hauled out the mower and started on the job.

As she walked back and forth and around stones, she thought about what she would wear and how she would do her hair. She played out romantic scenarios in her mind. She fantasized that tonight might be a breakthrough. When they were together, life was light and easy. They were usually in perfect sync. She liked how much he laughed and how so much physical strength could be controlled to touch her so gently.

She thought back to before they started dating and how genuinely excited he always was to see her walk into class at the gym. It all started normally, with interest and flirting and then him pursuing her. It felt incredible. He was always trying to find a way to see her, even if it was for only five minutes of talk, working around her schedule in any way he needed to. It was flattering and a bit chivalrous. By far one of her favorite times was the night they sat talking and he opened up to her for the first time, speaking about harder times, his childhood, his ex. All of these things were difficult for him to express, making Ellie feel extremely close to him as she realized that he trusted her. She sat listening intently, empathy and compassion in her eyes, as he stared at nothing in particular, caught up in experiences long buried. He didn't show much emotion, but Ellie could always get the real story from his eyes. When he finished, he smiled and moved on quickly. When he was too deep for comfort, he would just close down and move on to something else. Any further prompting would just cause him to shut down further. It wasn't that Ellie was looking for a blubbery, overly-emotional man, it was just that it was difficult to get past that initial layer. Where emotions were concerned, he was a surface dweller. He would never cry or show sadness or even strong anger or jealousy. That night was the first and last time he really opened up about anything. Always the optimist, Ellie held on to that as proof that the potential was there. Now, with the proposed dinner, she felt that potential unfolding. For anyone else, dinner would have been a simple and obvious step, but not for John. With John, it was progress.

Ellie was so deep into her daydream that she didn't feel her phone vibrating, so when she eventually pulled it out of her pocket to see how she was doing on time, she noticed the text message notifications.

Hey, I can't make it tonight, sorry. I have to deal with some stuff with Susan. Trust me, I wish I didn't. I'll make it up to you.

Ellie read the words, a bit confused at how she could be both disappointed and not surprised at the same time. She just texted back, ' _K_.'

The last acre took as long to finish as the first four. Ellie dragged herself back and forth, around each headstone, allowing herself to slip further and further into that horrible dejected feeling she knew all too well. As she finished the last pass, she put the mower away and walked back out into the cemetery. She just felt like sitting under a tree and thinking for a while.

Ellie found herself deep in thought. The setting sun glistened through the leaves. A beautiful breeze moved softly past her. The air was warm and comfortable, but Ellie noticed none of it. She was removed from anything around her, hearing only the questions that echoed in her head, feeling only the self-doubt that was slowly consuming her. She wanted to run to him, fast forward through all of this distance to a time where he would allow himself to fully love her and stand up for that love. A time where she could know it and no longer question if that love would ever be. The more she thought, the more she hurt, but the hurt only exemplified how much she loved him. A tear ran down her face, her body weak from the hopelessness she felt and she starred numbly at a marker beside her. After a timeless span, her eyes focused the image before her:

Speak softly, for I dwell

In a world of shadow and light

Where in a moment, spoken or not

I succumb to my Earthly plight

And in this land of question,

Of hour-less thought-filled night

I clench to my chest one page yet unwritten

Per chance eve may not darken my sight.

# BEYOND THE STONE

~ 10 ~

Ellie stared up in disbelief as the air thickened before her. The faintest of colors began to take their place, riding on rippling wisps. Luminescent streaks pulsed randomly, finally synchronizing into a steady, glowing outline, revealing the figure of a woman and then slowly dimming into her growing opacity. Silken amber energy flowed from her head and down past her shoulders. A ghostly white adorned her figure, subtly hinting at a long, simple, feminine dress. A crystal clear blue glimmered in her eyes, beneath a grayness that dulled her entire presence. A slight transparency remained, but there was more being communicated than by her image alone.

It was as if looking at the most beautiful of days through a dusty old window. The physical representation of one last hope, a moment before it's extinguished. Ellie, transfixed and motionless, slowly tried to speak. As the first words rippled the air, it took her a moment to realize they were not her own.

The woman spoke, presenting sounds that seemed to fade away in the same moment they were created, yet Ellie received every word.

"I am beyond what you fear. You can relax."

"Wh-what does that mean?" Ellie's words barely a whisper, she feared they may not have been heard.

"It could not be understood at this time. I hope you will simply trust me. You may call me Arelyth."

Ellie's mind raced. She tried to quickly grasp what was happening so she would know how to proceed. She had always questioned death, unsettled by its merciless inevitability. Without a solid theory of what she was experiencing, Ellie decided to see if she could satisfy some of her own curiosities. She swallowed hard and tried to pull herself together, though hesitant to ask the question that burned brightest within her.

"Are you a ghost? How am I able to see you?"

"You may acknowledge me as a ghost for now. You can see me and that will have to be enough at the moment," Arelyth said.

Ellie heard her own words escape, as if by their own power. "How did you die?" It felt as though she had only just barely thought the question— not necessarily ready to ask it— before the words were already flowing from her. Still, she wasn't sure if she was actually speaking or not. The communication was instant, yet replayed itself, not like an echo, but like a humoring of an understood communication system.

"I cannot answer that yet." The woman's words were soft and kind. Ellie was nearly speechless, but felt no fear. Each time the woman spoke, Ellie could feel the words seem to disappear and then reappear within her own body, finding their place and becoming part of her. She found herself giving in to a relaxation, almost against her will.

Ellie thought for a moment before asking the next question that nagged at her in the strongest way, "What is it like where you are?"

"It changes. There is untold beauty and peace. But upon the same space, there is bondage and theft of our very existence." Arelyth looked solemn and sincere.

"Is that what it's like when we die," Ellie implored, a bit afraid to hear the answer after the woman's description.

"No, it is not. This is very different, but if you cannot find a way to resolve this, it _will_ be the way it is when you die."

Arelyth's answer sent chills up Ellie's spine and she felt fear for the first time since the woman appeared. "I...my...me...everyone? Die...I don't...sorry, what does that mean?" Ellie incoherently pleaded, in disbelief of what she thought she heard.

"It means this world is in serious danger. I am about to die and you are the last chance that exists for me," Arelyth said, gently but directly. There was no lie in her eyes. Her motion began to slow a bit. "You are the only hope for a safe future...for any future at all, at least for me."

"How can you be dead and about to die at the same time?" Ellie asked, eyes wide.

"Time is more fluid than you know. But that doesn't mean there is any to waste. You must do this; I beg you."

"Do what? How? What happens if I can't figure it out, or I don't do anything?" Ellie asked.

"If that is the case, then these answers you will come to on your own," Arelyth said, a sadness in her tone.

Ellie had always imagined what it would be like if she saw a ghost and got to ask questions. The daydream was always peaceful and ended with her being told things that erased her fears. This experience was turning out to be exactly the opposite.

"Why me?" Ellie asked, with quiet desperation.

"There is a reason it is you seeing me today and not someone else," the woman said. "I have come before, recently, but this is the first time you have been able to see me. Whether you understand now or not, you _can_ save me. I implore that you do."

"I am so confused. I thought you were already dead. How can I save you from dying if you are already dead? And how would I? How can I even believe all of this?" The questions flooded out of Ellie and she had to force herself to be quiet in order to give the woman a chance to answer some of them.

"Read the stone."

"I have. It's a poem," Ellie said, still confused.

"It describes your role," Arelyth said.

Ellie looked over it again, trying to focus her unsettled mind enough to find her place in its words. It seemed like there were only a couple things it could be. After racing over it again, she looked up at the woman.

"I'm the 'per chance'?" Ellie asked, highly uncertain. "I don't understand. How do I save you, if you are already dead?"

"It is not that I will die, but that I may cease to have lived at all," Arelyth said, her image beginning to dim. A grayness became her color and, if palpable, would have felt like sandpaper.

"Wait, you can't go!" Ellie begged. "I don't understand. If you want me to _save_ you, you have to tell me more, don't you? How can I find you?"

The woman was all but gone, with the exception of a thickness to the air and glint of blue where her eyes had been. She answered, "Seek me where I am."

With those last words, she was gone. Ellie felt cold, like a great inner warmth had left. She was breathing on her own, but could not recall when that had begun. She sat there for several minutes, stunned by what had transpired before her, not to mention within her. Finally, realizing it was far into twilight and would be completely dark in the next several minutes, Ellie snapped a picture of the grave marker before quickly standing up to head to the Jeep. She immediately fell to the ground. She lay there for a minute, unsure of what had happened. She flexed her foot, checking her ankle. Observing she was not injured or feeling anything unusual, she attempted the stand again, more slowly this time and was successful. She hurried off to the Jeep.

Ellie turned the key, buckled herself in, took a deep breath and sped off toward her cottage. When she got there, Scotlyn rushed to the sound of the opening front door, nearly scaring Ellie more than the apparition she had just seen.

Scotlyn put her hands on Ellie's shoulders. "Are you OK? I thought something was wrong. You weren't answering your phone and you have a date tonight that I know you would not miss."

Ellie, beginning to relax after seeing it was just Scotlyn, seemed to have stalled on one part of the sentence— the part about not answering her phone. She didn't remember it ever ringing. Before Scotlyn had finished her rant, she reached into her pocket and removed her phone, checking it for missed calls.

"My battery is dead," Ellie said, confused. "Really odd. It was fully charged when I got his text and I just took the picture and..." her words slurred off before she finished the sentence.

"Ellie, are you OK? What happened?"

Ellie wandered into her bedroom to plug her phone into the charger. Scotlyn followed her. When Ellie turned back around, Scotlyn guided Ellie to the bed and gestured for her to sit down. "El, talk to me."

Ellie was acting strangely and Scotlyn was sincerely concerned. She had seen her best friend down before, but tonight she was different. "What happened, Ellie? Where is John."

"He is with Susan."

"What? Why?"

"Probably more of those ties he is trying to sever gently," Ellie answered, almost unscathed by the fact that he stood her up for a tantrum from his ex. She seemed like her mind was elsewhere, in fact.

"El, you're kinda scaring me." Scotlyn brushed a strand of Ellie's hair out of her face with her hand.

"You aren't going to believe me if I tell you. Hell, I'm not even sure _I_ believe it and I was there."

"Try me. I've never seen you like this before and I know your practical jokes don't go to the point of seriously scaring someone, ever."

Ellie took a deep breath. It didn't do any good, but she began anyway. "I was at the cemetery and John texted me. He cancelled."

Scotlyn's expression changed quickly, half reading that she wanted to kill him and half conveying empathy for her friend. She held back the urge to say anything, thinking that it might be more important to let Ellie continue.

"I felt so awful. I just wanted to be alone, so I sat under the big oak tree near the fence. I don't...I think...it..." Ellie stuttered, struggling to find the words, uncertain of how to begin this crazy story and really worried about what her friend would think of her.

"It's all right," Scotlyn reassured her. "Take your time; I'm here."

"I don't want you to think I'm crazy."

"I already think you're crazy," Scotlyn said, trying to lighten the mood. Then becoming sincere, "I would never think badly of you. You are my best friend. You have been there for me through, like, everything. I know you don't like to show your hand, but you really can trust me. Please."

Ellie, poorly hiding her overwhelment, hesitantly continued in disjointed sentences, "I was crying and I don't know how much time passed. I was staring at this headstone and I don't know, it was there the whole time, but it was like I wasn't seeing it and then I was. The thing is, I've never seen it before."

Ellie had always liked the peacefulness of cemeteries and would sometimes go there to think when she was having a rough time, but since getting the job there, she took a much deeper interest in the place. She would read the stones as she passed, wondering about their stories and if they really were all right now. Scotlyn and John were the only ones who knew this and they each understood her curiosity, even if they didn't share it. They knew she was just curious about the inevitable and often found it hard to confide in anyone when it came to her deepest fears and emotions.

"I was reading it and then everything got very still. I don't even know how to describe it. There were sensations I have never had before, let alone tried to put words to." Ellie slowly raised her eyes to meet Scotlyn's. "I saw something. Someone."

"Someone....who?"

"She said her name was Arelyth. But, I could, kind of, um, see through her," Ellie said and proceeded to describe the entire event in great detail. When she finished, Ellie winced, waiting for Scotlyn's response.

Scotlyn stared at Ellie, giving her a chance to clarify or otherwise indicate that perhaps it wasn't what it sounded like. When Ellie offered nothing but a look of insecurity, Scotlyn replied, "Are you certain?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"So what you're saying is, you saw a ghost?"

"Well, I thought so, but she seemed to imply she wasn't dead yet and that I might have something to do with keeping her alive. Actually, that part she outright said. No, wait, it was more like, if I don't do something, she will cease to have lived. I don't even know what that _means_.

"Scot, I could feel her in me. It was like her words were coming out of _me_. I know it all sounds so crazy, but she wasn't lying. I can't explain how I know, but I do; I just know."

The further into detail Ellie got, the faster and more intensely she spoke. "And then I think about what she said about saving her. How long does she have? Am I supposed to be racing around, _like now_ , figuring this out? How long have I got? How do you save someone you can't see who doesn't even exist in your own reality? And I don't even know how to find her again. She just said something cryptic and disintegrated! I just used the word _disintegrated_ when referring to someone I spoke with. I feel insane and so, so confused! What am I going to do?"

"OK, slow down. At least you didn't see Bigfoot. A ghost I can work with," Scotlyn joked. Ellie cracked a smile, which was her friend's intention. "No one needs to know, so you don't have to worry about what anyone thinks. I am not working much right now, so I have lots of time to help you figure this out. Who knows, it could be fun. We will look her up, research her. Maybe we can find out something that way. She didn't happen to give you her cell, did she?"

Ellie chuckled, before tears filled her eyes.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

With words almost devoid of sound, she repeated the fact she had glossed over previously, "He cancelled." Ellie couldn't hold back the tears any longer, despite her continuing effort as they rolled down her cheeks. "What's wrong with me, Scot? I don't understand why I am not enough?"

This was only the second time Scotlyn had ever seen Ellie cry. It wasn't that she was unfeeling, but that she was embarrassed. Ellie felt like she would appear weak if she let down her guard. She believed that if she let someone see her like that, that their opinion of her would lower, as if she was damaged goods. She also secretly feared that if she trusted someone to catch her, they might not and that would hurt far more than the loneliness that sometimes came with keeping it all to herself. So for Ellie to allow all of this to be pouring from her now, she had to have been hit hard.

"Stop! It isn't _you_ who isn't enough. The fact that Susan has him wrapped around her little finger means he is either afraid or he just doesn't care about his own happiness. She is a real threat to certain things in his life. But have you noticed? He doesn't stand up for _anything_ that matters to him. My brother said that Susan called John and demanded that he 'deal with some things' right before his big ski trip...the one he had been planning for over a year and finally got the time off work to go on. Well, you know how that one turned out."

Ellie was still failing miserably at not crying. She could feel this was the build-up of several months of let-downs and aloofness. John had told her, in one very sincere moment, that she was like a dream. He was telling the truth. But when it came to his actions proving his words, it was as if he was paralyzed. Most of the time, Ellie felt that if a truck was barreling down on her, he would stand there, wanting to help but not being able to. His eyes said he was in love with her; five minutes later, they were staring at the floor. And that was their endless cycle. If she was any less in love with him, she would have ended it long ago.

"But how can he be willing to lose me for someone he claims to hate, someone who continues to make his life so miserable and puts him down at every turn? How can he love me and leave me at the curb at the same time?" Ellie sobbed.

"Not to make you feel worse, but he hasn't got much of a spine. If what he has with you isn't enough to make him put his foot down, then he never will. There will always be some 'monster' pulling the strings. And there isn't a mean bone in your body, so you will never get to be the puppet master."

Ellie leaned forward, crying into her hands. "But that's the thing. If I was enough, he _would_ put his foot down. I know he loves me. I have seen it so clearly in his eyes. He worked so hard to be with me and then it just stopped, like he found out I'm not as good as he thought or something. I feel like I'm bleeding on the ground and all he will do is stand there and watch. Why am I not enough?" Ellie sobbed, revealing the depth of her pain. Scotlyn just hugged her friend as tightly as she could, a growing anger within her at John.

At first, Scotlyn thought they were cute together, but shortly after Ellie and John began dating, she started seeing some telling signs that he might not be such a great catch. But when Ellie had injured her ankle and was in the hospital, John was the first one there. Scotlyn was the one who had called him. She remembered the deep concern in his voice and how he dropped everything and rushed to the hospital, beating Scotlyn, who was already halfway there when she called him. John sat with Ellie the entire night. He did not leave her side. It was a side of him that Scotlyn had not seen first hand before and she considered the possibility that she might have been wrong about him. Sadly, it soon became clear that only a real emergency brought out that side of him and it wasn't long before his lesser traits took the lead again.

"It's not you," Scotlyn said, softly. "It's not you. You are such a beautiful person. It's not you. We will figure it all out," she said, stroking Ellie's hair, comfortingly. "Shh, it's going to be all right."

Scotlyn was almost in tears herself at the sight of her best friend being so heartbroken. Ellie was such a grounded, stable person, but when a guy entered the picture, it got a little shaky. Despite that, she was usually the perfect girlfriend. She was loving to a fault, truthful and passionate. She held her own, she was lighthearted and fun and her beauty didn't come at the price of some high-maintenance attitude. But she seemed to always find the wrong guys and eventually began to believe the failures were her fault.

Scotlyn stayed with Ellie until she had cried herself exhausted and then she tucked her into bed, shut the light and went into the kitchen to make a phone call.

# TYLER

~ 11 ~

Scotlyn stood in Ellie's kitchen waiting as patiently as she could. Every few minutes, she'd check her phone, then the window, then return to her spot at the counter, leaning on it on her forearms. She wore a light, pink summer dress that came to mid-thigh and still she was warm because of the anger she felt inside. On her wrist was a delicate silver bracelet made of tiny hearts that clinked on the counter each time she tapped her fingers impatiently upon it.

Between periodically mumbling to herself, 'Where is he?' she let her mind wander to when her and Ellie were nine. They were having a sleep over and her mom had made them popcorn and let them watch a scary movie in Scotlyn's room. Of course, by the time it was over they were too afraid to sleep, so they had their very first pillow fight, something that would become a best friend tradition. During it, her big brother, Tyler, came into the room dressed like the monster in the movie they had just watched. He snuck up on them and scared the living daylight out of them.

Scotlyn now chuckled at the thought as she continued to reminisce. Tyler's stunt had compounded what fear the movie had caused, but he didn't leave it like that. He stayed with them, acting as their protector, until they fell asleep that night. He was that kind of person and about the best older brother Scotlyn could imagine having. Now, at 26, his maturity usually caused him to come off as older, but nothing had changed between them. He was still her protector and Ellie was like a sister to Scotlyn, and to Tyler as well.

Scotlyn ran her fingers through her long hair trying to keep from dialing her phone again. Finally, she heard a quiet knock at the door. She rushed around the counter and over to the entry. "Get in here," she said, at just above a whisper.

"Hey, so what's the urgency about?" Tyler tucked around the half open door and stood before Scotlyn.

"Ellie."

"Is she OK?" he asked, his eyes darting around the room rather than waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, yeah, she's OK. I mean, she is not injured or anything. She is just not herself." It wasn't like Scotlyn to panic and she wouldn't call him about Ellie for no reason. He knew that.

Concern replaced his smile. "Scot, look at me. What happened to Ellie?"

"John. Again."

"I'm gonna knock that guy out," Tyler said, his expression changing to reflect the growing anger. "But, I'm still not sure why you called me. Wait, what exactly did he do to her?"

"It's not like that. He cancelled on what she thought was an important date," Scotlyn clarified.

"Like an actual date?" Tyler was a little surprised, knowing John.

"There's more. But if she wants you to know, she is going to have to be the one to tell you. I have to run home. I have to submit my article by midnight and I haven't exactly started it yet. I can come back after that, but I just don't want her to be alone tonight. It was a very unusual day, let's just leave it at that. Will you trust me on this one?" Scotlyn asked, opening the front door.

"I trust you. It would just help to have a bit more info, so I know what I'm up against."

"Just be here. I'll call you when I'm done," Scotlyn said, hanging half in the door.

"No, go. Stay home. I'm here now; I'll stay. I can sleep on the couch and if she wakes up in the morning before I do, hopefully she looks before she swings."

Scotlyn chuckled. "You might want to take the baseball bat out of her room then. Just incase."

"She has a baseball bat, seriously?" Tyler looked at her, trying to mask his awe with concern and disbelief.

Scotlyn glanced at him with a smirk on her way out the door, pleased at this rare opportunity to see gullibility in her older brother and more pleased that she was the one who was able to cause it.

As the front door closed, Tyler went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge before sitting down on the couch. He pulled a book from his pocket and made it through 3 pages before hearing a noise that grabbed his attention. He looked around, unable to identify it and so went back to his book. A few sentences later he heard it again. He sat forward and looked around the room. From where he sat, he could see the rest of the living room, the kitchen to the left and down the left side of a very short hall between the two, off of which was a bathroom, a closet, and Ellie's bedroom. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Attempting to return to his book, he leaned back and began to read again, only to be interrupted a third time. Tyler stood up and walked around the room. He peaked into Ellie's room to make sure she was all right and then checked the bathroom. Nothing. Chalking it up to 'strange house, unknown sounds', he headed back to the couch. As he turned the corner, he stopped suddenly and stared straight ahead. There, on the coffee table, sat Michael mouse, pure white and sitting tall.

Tyler considered attempting to catch the mouse, but before he could finish the thought, Michael had run away into a small hole in the baseboard molding. "Oooookaaaay," Tyler thought to himself, returning to the couch, clearly option-less where it concerned the rodent. He took another drink of his beer before returning to his book. He made it through a couple full chapters before, over the top of his book, a figure caught his attention.

He jerked with a start. "Crap, you scared me!" he said, looking up at Ellie. She stood leaning against the wall where the hall met the living room, wearing short, light blue pajama boxers and a fitted white tank top. She looked beautiful but drained and in rare form, almost fragile. Tyler immediately began to stand to head over to her. It was just as Scotlyn had said. Something was not right with her and, just like his sister, Tyler knew Ellie well enough to see that right away.

When Ellie got the news that she had been chosen for the movie, her friends and family all celebrated with her that night. But before that, she had a visitor. When Ellie opened the door, she saw Tyler standing on the step. He was holding a beautiful bunch of wildflowers in his hand, which he stretched out to offer to Ellie.

"For you," he smiled. "Congratulations! I heard about the role."

"Thank you," Ellie grinned, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him.

"That's not all. I am taking you out for Thai food to celebrate, so get your stuff. Tonight it's all about you, Miss Ellie Mayfield." Tyler smiled widely, but there was something behind it he was compensating for.

"Yeah? You don't have to do that. Really."

"Are you kidding me? This is huge! You've been like my little sister since you were five and I was nine. I am so proud of you! So unless you have other plans, I am taking you out to celebrate."

Ellie looked at him humbly, "Who's better than you?"

"Uh...that would be no one," Tyler responded, appropriately, laughing coyly afterwards.

Ellie's complimentary joke didn't even begin to describe how good he had made her feel. It sounded silly, but to Ellie, Tyler really did feel like a knight in shining armor. He had always been there for her, just as much as for his own sister. There were few people who could surprise Ellie, but Tyler did so with regularity. He was extremely creative and always paying attention. He wanted the people around him to feel comfortable, which was nothing compared to what he would do for those he loved.

They had a great time that night. Thai food was her favorite. He let Ellie order an insane amount of food, arguing that she needed to get used to having everything she wanted, now that she was going to be famous. In actuality, he just wanted her to feel special. Afterwards he took her to her parent's house, where everyone else awaited her arrival for dessert and more celebrating. Most of the night Tyler was laughing and joking with everyone, but a few times Ellie caught him watching her with an odd expression on his face. It wasn't any one expression, so she couldn't easily sum it up. It reminded her of a movie she had seen where a man had rescued his granddaughter from a horrible living situation and was watching her dance and play with the good people whom she would now live with, though still unbeknownst to her. It was bittersweet because he knew he was watching her for the last time, being himself near the end of his life. He was hurt for the pain she had felt, happy at the joy she was now feeling and remorseful that he wouldn't be able to do more for her, all rolled into one well-acted expression. Tyler had a very similar look. She let it go for a while, but as she lay in her bed in her dorm room later that night, it played on her mind.

A couple days later, when she and Scotlyn were sitting on her bed doing homework, Ellie brought it up.

"Hey Scot? So, at the party you guys all threw for me the other night...your brother...I saw him looking at me a few times." She tried to describe the look.

"That's just Ty being Ty." Scotlyn tried to brush it off, but for someone who was a pro at being the comedic straight man, she couldn't lie very well at all.

"Come on, seriously. Something just didn't feel right," Ellie insisted.

"How am I supposed to know what's going through his head? He just thinks too much, if you ask me."

"Well, I am asking you, but you know more than you're telling me," Ellie said.

"I plead the fifth," Scotlyn joked, beginning to feel cornered.

Ellie whacked her in the face with a pillow and she fell back onto the bed. Laying there, she reached her arms up under the pillow and rolled it down onto her torso, her arms now stretched out on top of it. Her expression was more serious.

"It's nothing bad," she finally began confessing carefully. She wasn't sure if she was breaking a confidence with her brother by revealing what she knew, so she tried to walk that fine line between being a trustworthy sister and also a good friend.

"After you called me about getting the part, I told Ty." Scotlyn paused to consider her next words.

"Yeah, and...?"

"When I told him we were all going to your parent's house that night to celebrate and asked if he was going to come as well, he said, 'I thought John would be taking her out, no?'" Scotlyn looked over at Ellie. "I said John had to work and that's all I said about it, but...he knows John. He was pretty quiet after that until he popped back into my room a few minutes later to tell me he was taking you out and would have you back in time for the party at your house."

Ellie was silent for a moment, staring at the comforter on her bed.

Tyler had gone to high school with John. He was a couple years older, so he didn't know him well, but he knew _of_ him. When Tyler returned home after college, he would run into John from time to time, frequenting some of the places he worked. They also had a good friend in common, so Tyler got the 'scoop' occasionally. If asked, he would have said John is a pretty cool guy. But he would not have wanted someone he cared about to be dating him.

"Ty really thinks that badly of him?" Ellie asked. She cared about Tyler's opinion of her, but she was also genuinely not wanting the people in her life to hate the guy she was falling in love with.

"No. He doesn't. He just doesn't want to see you disappointed. I think he just wants whatever guy you are with to treat you right, that's all."

Ellie decided to share a lot less about John for a while. She appreciated the concern, but she believed John would come through; if she could just buy some time free of the scrutiny, then she could re-introduce him into her friend's lives when things finally start going really well between them. At least she better understood Tyler's stares.

As Tyler started to stand to head over to Ellie, she gestured to him to sit back down. "No, no, don't get up. It's fine. I'm good."

"You don't look good." Tyler cringed and immediately clarified himself. "I don't mean it like that. You just look like something's up. Care to enlighten me?"

His eyes didn't leave Ellie as she walked over to the fridge to grab a water and then walked back toward the couch where he was sitting, still poised as if about to stand. She walked around the coffee table and sat next to him, angled slightly toward him. After taking a sip of water, she replied, "It's a long story."

"I've got all night," he said, tossing his book on the coffee table.

Ellie looked down and smiled, though wearily.

"So how is work?" she asked, in an attempt to change the subject.

Tyler worked in construction. He loved to build, to create. He loved working with his hands and being outside. His plan was to eventually open his own construction and architectural design company. In college he studied architecture, but he had learned how to build from his father and grandfather. Given the profession, he could normally be seen in jeans and work boots.

"Work is good, oh holy queen of the non-sequetor."

Ellie smiled a little wider.

Realizing that hitting this head on was not going to get it there, he took another tact. "How is the ankle?"

It had been five months since the injury. She had been in physical therapy since shortly after the surgery, returning to the doctor periodically to check her progress.

"It's good," she said, half-heartedly. "I am at about 90%."

"That's great!"

"Yeah, it is. It just isn't enough to dance on. Not professionally, anyway." Her demeanor dipped a bit. "I had an audition a few days ago, but I didn't get it, because I couldn't dance on it in the way the role they wanted me in required."

"Give it time, El. The doctor didn't expect you to even be able to get it this far, aaaaand...?" He waited for her to finish the sentence.

"And, I have."

"Yeah. And you'll get it the rest of the way," he said, with such unwavering conviction that for a moment she almost believed it herself. Suddenly it occurred to her that she had no idea what Tyler was doing in her living room.

"Ty? Why are you here...in my house?"

Tyler lowered his head and smiled. "Yeah, I suppose that would warrant an explanation." It also gave him the perfect lead in to take another stab at his original question to Ellie. "Scotlyn called me. She had to finish something for work, but didn't want to leave you alone, so she asked me to hang here." Trying not to indict his sister, he continued, "Scot said your plans with John had fallen through, but she wouldn't tell me anything else." His tone became more sensitive, concerned. "I'm sorry about your date, I really am, but that by itself isn't usually reason enough to warrant a watch guard. What's going on, El?"

Tyler was beginning to understand his sister's concern more and more as his exchanges continued with Ellie. She was out of character. There was very little that Ellie did not bounce right back from and when there was something that brought her down, no one saw it. She would keep it to herself, letting on only in words, if at all, and only if prompted. While her current behavior might not have seemed like a big deal to someone else, he knew her well enough to know that it was.

She squirmed a little, wanting to tell him the story and feel his support, but also feeling very self-conscious about doing so because of the content of that story. She looked away at the floor and anywhere except at him, pulling on her wrist nervously, trying to see if she could find the words to begin or even the courage to speak them.

Tyler placed his hand softly on top of hers, stopping her fidgeting, and dipped his head so he was ready to look into her downcast eyes the moment she lifted them. He spoke tenderly, reassuring her, "Nothing changes, El. Whatever you tell me here tonight, nothing changes. I know you. Nothing you say is going to change who I know you to be. You can talk to me."

With that she lifted her eyes to meet his and believing in the sincerity she saw in them, decided to take the chance. Tyler listened intently, uncertain at times of what to make of it. The times when Ellie hesitated or paused with trepidation, he would gently squeeze her hand reassuringly, or rub her shoulder.

Ellie spoke, hearing her own words, but one step removed from the reality that she was actually speaking them. When she finished, she stared at Tyler, cringing with anxiety at the anticipation his forthcoming response. She was not used to feeling so exposed and it was too late to take any of it back. He knew now.

Tyler sat silent for a moment, starring down at the carpet, attempting to make sense out of what Ellie had just told him. He still had one hand on her shoulder, but his other rested over his chin and mouth in congruence with his pensive look, his elbow supported by his knee. Each moment he didn't speak was torture for Ellie.

It was cool in the apartment and she was beginning to get a little chilly. When he felt her shiver beneath his hand, it snapped him away from his thoughts and he turned back to her and rubbed up and down her arm briskly, with the sentiment of warming her up.

"Hey, you're cold. I'm sorry," he said, standing up and grabbing a blanket that was laying on another small sofa. He brought it back and draped it over her shoulders, crossing the two ends in front of her. "Better?"

She nodded, having to admit to herself that it was nice to be taken care of, something her independence and shyness rarely allowed her to experience. "Thank you."

"Forgive me, it's just not what I expected to hear."

"What did you expect to hear?" Ellie asked.

"It's not that I had a solid idea of what was wrong, it's just that I roughly thought it might be along the lines of something more..." he searched, "...everyday normal. A guy, or an accident or —"

She cut him off, "Or I got myself in trouble with John?"

"Well, I hoped not. That would pretty well land me in jail in short order."

"You really hate him that much?" Ellie asked, softly.

"I don't hate him, El. I just don't think he acts like a man should act."

Ellie considered his words, trying not to let herself acknowledge the fact that he was right. He quickly interrupted her mental wandering.

"Anyway, back to what you saw today. She gave you a name, so we have that. And she said that she would cease to have lived, which seems to imply that she _had_ lived, past tense, so I think it's safe to assume for now that she is dead, her history behind her. That also means it should be here for us to find."

"How does someone cease to have existed?" Ellie thought, out loud.

"I have no idea. I was going to tackle that one last," Tyler said.

"Seek me where I am!" Ellie blurted out the line, remembering suddenly the words as Arelyth had spoken them. "Where I am. She's in a cemetery. That doesn't make sense. If I could talk to her there anytime, why did she just vanish? Why wouldn't she just have said that?"

"Maybe cemetery isn't the 'where' that she meant. Maybe the 'where' meant the past...the history books, obituary records, etc."

"Then wouldn't she have said, 'Seek me _when_ I am?'"

"I don't know, El," he moaned and collapsed back into the couch, allowing his body and mind to go limp for a moment. "This is the first time I'm translating 'ghost.'"

She chuckled, feeling a bit of relief that he was genuinely trying to help her figure out something that she knew sounded utterly ridiculous. She watched as he put his hands behind his head and with a deep breath began letting his mind work on it again.

Though Ellie had known him most of her life, sitting next to him now, it was difficult to believe that the boy that once dressed up as a monster to scare Scotlyn and her only to then watch over them until they felt safe enough to fall asleep, was the same man that sat before her now, still looking out for her well-being. She didn't feel deserving of it, especially since Tyler was no longer a lanky young boy. He was 6'0" with stylishly-messy, medium-brown hair and hazel eyes. His complexion was tanner than Scotlyn's fair skin, possibly from all the time he spent outside. He usually had a five o'clock shadow which only added to the masculinity he exuded. His body was athletic and muscular. He wasn't bulging, but he was extremely toned and his muscles were well-defined. In moments of self-doubt, she wondered why he still spent time with her. She assumed he could be with any girl he wanted, but instead he was here playing make-believe with his little sister's friend.

"Did she say anything else?" Tyler's words broke her observant gaze.

"What?"

"Ghosty. Did she say anything else you haven't told me?"

Ellie thought back, beginning to question whether it was possible she imagined the whole thing, and then instantly knowing how much worse that would be at this point. They would surely lock her away. Still, deep inside she knew she hadn't imagined it.

"Not really. Something about me. I am the...OH!" She jumped up and in one of her least graceful moments, nearly tripped over the blanket and then over Tyler's legs on her race to her dresser. He sat up instantly, catching her in whatever way he could in the split seconds it took her to fumble through, preventing at least one or two bruises. Ellie ripped her phone from the charger and raced back to Tyler, throwing herself on the couch next to him. She turned on her phone and tapped eagerly.

"There!" She pointed to a picture in her phone. "I took a photo of the headstone."

She held the phone for him to see. He had to bring his hand up to steady it from her excited tremble. He zoomed in to it and read the words.

"Wow. That's different. I kinda like it."

"I know, right?" Ellie agreed.

"What were you starting to say before, about your part in this?" Tyler asked.

"Oh, yeah. She said I was her last chance and that the poem defined my role. I said 'I am the per chance?' She didn't actually answer, but I am guessing it was what she meant, or something along those lines anyway," Ellie recounted.

"I clench to my chest one page yet unwritten, Per chance eve may not darken my sight," Tyler repeated, carefully. "I think you're more the 'one page yet unwritten' than the 'per chance.'"

"Well that makes it all clear. Thanks for stopping by. Maybe tomorrow night we can find Hoffa," Ellie said, sarcastically.

Tyler squinted at her and suddenly lifted her from the left side of him where she now sat, over to the right side of him where she had sat before. He manipulated her in mid-air so that she would land on her back, where she would be defenseless against his tickling. She screamed and giggled, unsuccessfully trying to push away his hands. The strength of his arms and the warmth of his hands just accentuated how safe and cared for he had already made her feel and she welcomed the laughter and the distraction of the game. It was exactly what she needed. As he slowed, he pulled the bottom of her tank down where it had risen a little. He sat back, allowing her to catch her breath and sit up.

"By the way, you know you have mice?"

"Mouse," Ellie corrected.

"You have an infestation of _mouse_?"

"Yeah. Mouse. Just one. His name is Michael," Ellie clarified.

"Ghost. Mouse. Anything else I should know?"

"There's pizza in the fridge?"

"That and a beer sound just about right."

# RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENTS

~ 12 ~

Ellie woke up to the sun pouring in her bedroom window. She stretched and basked in the comfort of her bed until she remembered yesterday. Was it a dream?

She got out of bed and walked out of the room. Upon rounding the corner of the door frame, she saw Tyler sprawled out on the couch, the blanket half covering him. He was taller than the couch was long so one leg was on the arm of it and the other hung down to the floor. His right arm stretched unsupported off the edge and his other arm lay across his chest. His hair was a mess and his stubble a little darker. He looked comfortable despite the tight quarters.

He shifted a bit before slowly, groggily opening his eyes to see Ellie standing against the wall looking at him. In a raspy voice and squinting through the sunlight he said, "You gotta stop doin' that." His head dropped back again and he took a deep breath before attempting to sit up.

"For one peaceful moment I thought it was all a dream until I saw you on the couch," Ellie said.

"Yeah, well, that's me: ghost hunter by night, dream shatterer by day."

Ellie smiled. "I'm gonna find her today," she said, with a smirk of confidence as she turned to head to the shower.

"I call seconds on the shower," Tyler called out to her.

"Michael already called seconds."

Tyler remarked under his breath, "Michael? Who?" Louder upon recalling, "The _mouse_?!"

Ellie laughed a little as she closed the bathroom door. Through it she could hear him yell to her, "I'm helping you find her today." He flopped back on the sofa, content to get a few more minutes of sleep. Ellie smiled to herself and turned on the shower.

She stood under the warm stream of water, letting it run down her body while imagining it was washing away the events at the cemetery. She cringed at the thought of the things she confessed to her friends the night before. It almost felt like she could just ignore the whole meeting with Arelyth, except for the twinge she got in her gut every time she played with the idea.

Ellie realized she had to at least look into it. She washed her hair and finished showering. She grabbed the towel and dried herself off. Ellie almost walked out the door, but stopped suddenly, remembering Tyler was in the other room. She threw on the pajamas she wore when she entered and walked out and across the hall to her room.

Ellie stood before her mirror in the bedroom. Her auburn hair, now dry, had a beautiful, soft natural curl to it. She scooped it up into a cute ponytail so it would be out of her face as she researched. The good night's sleep had done her well and she had woken up feeling lighter and more positive, but slowly the events of the previous day were beginning to creep back in: John canceling their date, the apparition in the cemetery and then confessing to Tyler last night. She was also still trying to get her ankle back to 100% and newly on her own, supporting an apartment. As it started to overwhelm her, she shook her head as if clearing her mind and looked at herself in a determined way, hoping the face might prompt the feeling. Just then she heard the front door open and close.

"I have coffee!" Scotlyn's voice sang through the apartment. She was a self-professed coffee addict. It was about the only vice she had, so no one was exactly lecturing her. She whirled around the kitchen as if this wasn't her first cup, grabbing plates and napkins before opening up a bag with breakfast sandwiches in it. She was a strawberry blonde ball of energy, as radiant as a Nutrogena commercial and ready to do some ghost-busting.

Ellie smiled and, shaking her head, took a preparatory breath and headed out into the kitchen. She found Tyler and Scotlyn already enjoying breakfast. They pushed a plate toward her as she approached the counter.

"Here, eat," Scotlyn said. "Ready to find the dead chick?"

Tyler laughed under his breath and even Ellie had to smile.

"She was kinda begging for her life. Could you be any colder?" Ellie asked.

"Yeah, she could," Tyler answered, on her behalf.

"Sorry. I'll be good," Scotlyn swore. "Now, are you ready for my good news?"

Ellie and Tyler both looked at her, awaiting her announcement.

"I convinced my boss to let us have access to the archives. There should be tons of info and leads in there, so I thought it might be a good place to start."

"That's perfect!" Ellie exclaimed.

Scotlyn was a writer at a small company that put out a newspaper daily and a zine twice monthly. The building they operated out of was about two hundred years old. It was a ruddy brick with ornamental hand-carved molding and a lot of its original elements. It was historically accurate in its restoration. Inside the building, it was a brilliance of design. The structure, detail and even much of the way it was furnished, was original. The company had a decorator juxtaposition that with sleek, cutting edge technology. It was a seamless collaboration: a respectful nod to history combined with the functionality of today and a vision of the future.

The building had always housed a business having to do with writing and publishing. The company had access to a wealth of information within their database, from articles to resources to photographs. But by far the most interesting part of the building was the original underground archives. They were located in a basement type area under the main floor and contained floor-to-ceiling shelves throughout, each stacked full of boxes and aging books. The system by which it was all catalogued was archaic, but organized.

"All right, ladies," Tyler said, cleaning up their breakfast area, "are we ready to go?"

With that, they all headed out to Tyler's truck. He hopped in the driver's seat, Ellie sat in the middle and Scotlyn on the right. Tyler started up the F-250 and hit the road, heading to "E-Quill," the name of the company Scotlyn worked for.

The building was just inside the east border of the town of Isolde's Tyme. It was a charming town, very historic but containing some very distinct areas. It was largely bucolic on its outskirts. In the center of town, it had become more populated, though still quaint. Most of the town was a very nice, well-cared for place. But the northern section had become a little dicey. There was a sharp increase in crime and it had become very run down. Several committees had been organized to try to revitalize that part of town, fearing it may spread into the nicer sections, but despite continuing to fight the good fight, progress was slow. Ellie's apartment was on the western part of town, so they had to drive though the center of Isolde's Tyme to get to E-Quill.

When they arrived, Scotlyn led them through the building and past her desk. It was made of lucite and had a soft blue glow faintly spread throughout it, becoming bolder near the desk's edges. All of the accessories that sat neatly upon it were also lucite and absorbed some of the same glow. In the center was a MacBook Pro Retina. The lighting fixture above it was a masterfully curved piece of lucite, emitting a brilliant white glow from its edges, while hanging from a rusty antique pulley. The desk's side edge sat close to the brick wall, centered against a window. Gingham curtains primitively adorned the window and were reflected in the same fabric in her chair, which was a streamlined, super-thin, ergonomic piece of art. Scotlyn kept a small plant in the window and some pictures on her desk, each having an ornate ironwork frame surrounding it. One photo was of her, Tyler and their parents. Another was of her and Ellie. The third and fourth were her and Trent and Trent by himself.

Scotlyn continued, taking them to the back of the smallish main part of the building and then down some very old masonry steps. There was a definitive drop in temperature and Ellie wished she had brought a sweater. It was dark and dank, but everything about it excited Ellie. This room was a living, breathing time capsule, a keeper of secrets and the last remaining remnants of so many individual lifetimes. Her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped as they came down off the last step. She looked around in awe. A lot of people would have seen a dirty room with lots of junk and cobwebs, but Ellie saw stories and worlds.

Tyler brought his fingers to Ellie's chin, closing her mouth while feigning a mocking expression. In reality, he ate this stuff up too: the history and especially the rust and architecture. Ellie smiled sheepishly, having been caught gaping.

"OK, so here we are," Scotlyn announced the obvious. "All we have is her name...her first name really, which is nothing, except that there was a much smaller population here then and it doesn't sound like a very common name."

"Way to crush our hopes and then raise our spirits, all in the same sentence," Ellie complimented, sarcastically.

"Well, everyone has their talents," Scotlyn retorted.

Scotlyn deciphered what she knew of the system for them and they each took off in different directions, starting with the only clue they had: her name. They dug through books and drawers and boxes and files. They dug through time itself.

Ellie saw a label on the top shelf of the metal framework. She climbed up carefully. From the look of some of the items, she felt they might crumble or totally disintegrate if she were to accidentally step on them. As she neared the top, she confirmed the label read 'Residents of Isolde's Tyme.' Goosebumps covered her arms, now from excitement instead of the chill of the basement. Hanging onto the framework with one hand, she used the other to open the lid on the box that sat above the label.

"Whoa, careful El," Tyler said, as he came around the corner and caught the tail end of her Spider Man impression.

"The shelf is labeled 'Residents of Isolde's Tyme.' This is the only thing up here, so it must be referring to this box," Ellie said.

"Great! Let's see those residents," Tyler said.

Ellie removed the lid and looked into the box. It was empty.

"Aaaaaand...apparently, there weren't any," Ellie said, disappointed.

"No worries, there had to be residents and we will find them, eventually," Tyler said. He stood there as she descended, helping her down the last couple shelves. They both headed off to resume their search.

Everything they found seemed to be about the town, or shops within the town. There was all manner of paraphernalia from events that occurred in town throughout the decades. Occasionally, they would find something on an individual resident and then the information seemed endless. The further they dug and explored, the more they found. All of them, in the back of their minds, now had every intention of returning at a later time to explore the wealth of history that lay preserved within the brick walls of the archive. For now though, it was just frustrating to find everything except what they needed to find.

Scotlyn's yellow summer dress was a dingy greenish from all of the dust and filth. Tyler looked as though he had crawled out of a mine. And Ellie's face and arms were streaked with dirt, her hands covered in ink. They were a motley-looking crew. It would have been worth it if they had just found even one piece of this puzzle. But they didn't. Hours passed and with each one, Ellie became more and more frustrated, almost desperate. She wasn't entirely certain why it was becoming so important to her...but it was. It was fair to say she had a much larger stake in this than Tyler and Scotlyn. She had seen the woman. She had felt her words. The longer they were in the archives, the more vividly the cemetery experience returned to Ellie's memory.

"Ellie," Scotlyn said, considerately, peeking around a tall structure of shelves, "we are going to have to get going soon."

Ellie looked distressed. "I haven't gotten anywhere. I've been through everything that starts with an 'A' and nothing. I finally found these records for Well-Sweep Cemetery, but it's a labyrinth." Ellie's demeanor changed and her words were whispers as she shared with Scotlyn, "I keep seeing it. Her. Saturday. It's so clear now, it's like it just happened five minutes ago. It feels that close. I don't know what that means, but I do know I need to find something on her." She looked at Scotlyn with a seriousness that bordered on pleading.

"A few more minutes, OK?" Scotlyn offered.

Scotlyn wanted to let her stay as long as she wanted. It was Sunday so they had the place to themselves, but her boss had given her until 8pm and after that he would set the alarm remotely. She didn't let on, but she had a hard enough time getting him to let her be here unsupervised as it was. There was no way he was going to extend the 'curfew.'

"I'll take whatever I can get," Ellie said.

Twenty more minutes passed and it was nearly eight o'clock. Scotlyn, walked up behind Ellie and placed her hands on her shoulders. "El, we have to go now. I don't have any choice."

Ellie looked down at the mess before her and sighed.

"I'm sorry, El. We'll come back, I promise."

"I know. It's OK. I love you for making this happen and then spending your whole Sunday helping me," Ellie said, softly.

Scotlyn wrapped her arms around Ellie's shoulders and hugged her from behind. "Come on. Let's get going."

Ellie stood up and then paused. "My notes. I left them in the back aisle. Hang on, I'll be right back."

Ellie ran to the back of the room, between the last free-standing structure of shelves and the one that lined the brick wall. At the very top center, was a cut-out to allow the window to be accessible. Ellie looked back to make sure Scotlyn hadn't begun to make her way back there or that Tyler, whom she hadn't heard a peep from in a while, wasn't nearby. She quickly climbed the shelves as quietly as she could. When she got to the top, she unlocked the window and pushed it open a hair. It squeaked and she froze, cringing and hoping no one heard. As she pulled her hand back, her forearm caught a sharp piece of metal and sliced her skin open, not deeply, but it wasn't pretty either. "Crap," she mumbled, in a whisper. Without giving it another look, she climbed back down and hurried to where she had left Scotlyn.

"Get it?" Scotlyn asked.

"Um, no. I couldn't find them. I didn't have much written anyway, just my own thoughts. I'll find them next time," Ellie lied. She felt horrible about lying to her best friend, but there was a desperation in her that she could not explain; something about this Arelyth puzzle was unprecedented and demanding her cooperation.

"Ty," Scotlyn yelled out, "I'm driving your truck." And with that she started up the stairs. Immediately, Tyler ran out from behind one of the racks and appeared at the stairs. "Not gonna happen," he corrected.

They all made their way up the stairs and out to the truck and within a few minutes, were headed back to Ellie's place. She was quiet the entire drive back. She sat on the outside this time, staring out the window, the scene in the cemetery repeating itself within her mind, without her permission. Tyler pulled into the driveway of Ellie's apartment. She placed her hand on the door pull to open it and that's when Tyler noticed the nasty cut up her arm.

"What happened to your arm?" he asked, with some alarm.

"Oh," she said, looking down at it. She squinted with eyebrows and shoulders raised as she looked back up to answer Tyler. "Paper cut?"

"Was it still in tree form?" Tyler asked, pointedly.

Ellie was straight with him. "I cut it on a piece of metal when I was reaching up for something."

As she began getting out of the vehicle, she thanked them for the day, but when she turned, Tyler was already out of the truck and Scotlyn stepping down right behind Ellie. "You guys don't need to come in tonight. I'll be fine, really."

"How about we just take care of that paper cut and we'll be on our way," he said, with care but sternly.

"How about I take care of it and I will see you guys tomorrow. You can't baby me forever. I saw something weird, I didn't have a stroke. I appreciate it more than you know, but I have this. I'm good, really."

They accepted that and climbed back into the truck. Tyler backed up, switched into drive and yelled out the window to Ellie before taking off. "You have our cells." It was his way of letting her know not to hesitate if she needed them. Or him.

Ellie waved and went inside. She dropped her things on the floor and headed right for the shower. More than even getting the grime off her skin, she wanted to hear the water and hopefully be able to let her mind relax. As the water ran down her face, she tried to focus on the warmth of it, the smooth wet feel, and imagine it washing the day away, as she often did when things got tough. Once clean, the cut on her arm was barely noticeable.

She stepped out and toweled herself off, noticing that she did feel better, lighter. After putting some peroxide and a bandaid on her arm, Ellie walked down the short hall to her bedroom and threw on light sweats and a little cami. She pulled her wet hair up into a messy bun and went to the kitchen to make dinner. As she was cooking, she felt an uneasiness in her stomach. She tried to brush it off as hunger or tension, but it returned in waves, becoming quite steady by the time she had finished eating. It was subtle, but there. It was also responsible for her not finishing her meal.

She paced in the living room, a little nervous about the oddness she was feeling but mostly caught up in a growing determination to do something proactive. Ellie didn't understand anything of the past couple days. Often she would think about just stepping away and getting back into her own life. She didn't want to be responsible for the life of a dead woman. And she especially didn't want to keep uttering phrases like that, which made her feel completely certifiable. But there was something more to it that kept drawing her back in. It wasn't simple interest or morbid curiosity. It started as a nagging but had already become more of an urgency within her. Just one more thing she didn't understand. But she also couldn't deny it. If she could just find the name, it would be a start and maybe it would suppress the uneasiness within.

She grabbed her laptop and climbed onto the couch, crossing her legs under her. As she began to type Arelyth into the search bar, her phone rang.

"Hi, John."

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?"

"Research, actually. It's kind of important." She remembered she hadn't told John about any of this yet and she wasn't sure she should. He didn't need yet one more reason to be distant.

"I could stop by just for a little while. I really want to see you." He usually didn't say things like that anymore, unless it tipped the scale in his favor and helped him to get his way.

She wanted to get online and find the info she sought. If it weren't for those damn butterflies in her stomach every time she heard his voice.

"All right, just for a bit." She really did want to see him, but now she would have to share all this madness with him or find a way to keep it from him and she still wasn't sure which was the best bet. She had been too pre-occupied to dwell on the way he cancelled on her the night before, but now that he was coming over, the feelings were resurfacing. She wanted some resolve and maybe talking in person would help. Of course there was also a new layer forming. As much as she loved John, she was beginning to fear their meetings. She found herself afraid of what he would say, or what he wouldn't say, afraid that he would confirm her fears, especially the ones she wouldn't admit to having, not even to herself.

She closed the laptop and grabbed a water from the fridge. Within ten minutes he was standing at her door. He walked in and smiled widely at Ellie. She felt the uncertainty of the recent happenings, the stress of the day and the remnants of the disappointment she had felt just yesterday when he cancelled their date, yet part of her was instantly lost in his charm. He walked closer to her and she laid her head against his chest. He hugged her sweetly and she felt herself surrendering to the love she had for him, wishing he would stay and never leave.

Without trying to be, Ellie was a bit distracted and less spirited than usual. John noticed, but he didn't question it directly, on the chance it had to do with him. Instead he wrestled with her and tickled her and tried to get her to relax back into the fun Ellie she usually was. She did laugh and they did have fun, but something was still missing. He sat back on the couch and massaged her ankle.

"Hey, El. I know I'm not moving as fast as you would like," John said, solemnly.

Ellie's heart stopped at the possibility that he might finally let her in a little, that he might let her know she was important to him so she could stop second-guessing if it was all in her head. John's face became serious.

"I'm sorry about that. I don't like that about myself, but it's just how I am. I don't know why. I mean, I was with Susan for a long time and so she's seen a lot of crap and now she's basically trying to ruin my life."

"Why?"

"She's mad, because she didn't want to break up. I don't know why the hell she wants me. We don't get along. I don't love her. She doesn't love me and if she does, it's definitely her own brand of love. I don't get it. All I know is it's a nightmare and when I think of getting serious again, I get all locked up inside," John admitted.

"I'm not her," Ellie pointed out the obvious.

"I know you're not. You're like a dream, Ellie. When we are together, everything is perfect. But I don't know what you see in me either and maybe that's part of it."

"You're afraid I might not be real? Or it might not last?" Ellie asked, trying to understand. These were thoughts she had the last time he described her as a dream, but hadn't vocalized.

"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know," John faltered.

"So..." Ellie chose her words very careful, wanting to understand and solidify some hope, but very aware that the wrong question could shut him down, "...do you want us to take it down a notch...give you some time to figure things out?" she asked, praying he didn't take her up on it.

"No, I don't. I know I don't want to stop seeing you. I don't want to piss Susan off more either, though. If I can just get things squared away with her and figure something out so I don't have so many jobs," John said, becoming overwhelmed at the thought of it all.

She watched his thoughts forming the very maze that he was getting lost in. The most frustrating part was that he knew that. He saw things very clearly, but there was a gap between seeing it clearly and doing something about it, where he eternally dwelled. He just couldn't make the jump for some reason.

He continued, "This happened before. When she and I first got together, we were all right. I was really just tired of dating, but I probably never should have gotten into a relationship with her. We had a big fight and we broke up. Then I met someone that I absolutely fell in love with, but when Susan found out, she starting making trouble. The girl's name was Melanie and she was in love with me too, but eventually, she just had it with all of Susan's shit and broke up with me. She said I could call her if I settled everything, but by the time I thought I had— which in her defense was about a year later— she was already engaged to another guy."

"Why did you wait so long if you were really in love with her?" Ellie asked.

"I don't know. I don't know why I do that. I know I am doing the same thing with you and I feel even more for you than I did for Melanie," John said, sincerely.

Ellie asked softly and as if walking on glass, "You are...in love with me...? I mean you said you were in love with her and then you said you feel more for me than you did for her."

John's eyes began to glaze over, but he actually turned it back and answered. "I was in the beginning." Ellie's heart dropped until he quickly added, "I do love you, Ellie. It's not that I don't, it's that everything else keeps getting in the way of how I want it to be. A different time and it wouldn't be like this. I am trying though."

That was the end of the conversation. He was talked out and she knew it, but he had given her hope again and she felt it more powerfully than ever. That's all she had wanted: hope...and for him to trust her. He didn't have to be everything all at once. He, himself— John— was really what was in the way and he didn't have to instantly change that; he just had to want to...and he did. She just wanted him to let her love him. Her heart was so full that it almost blocked out the worry in her mind and the uneasiness in her stomach. Almost.

She touched his face and then straddling his legs, kissed his temple. She ran both hands through the baby soft hair on either side of his head and upon reaching the back of his head, pulled him to her, kissing his lips with growing passion as she felt his hands running over her body. He interrupted the kiss just long enough to slide her cami up over her head, revealing her bare femininity. He continued to kiss her for another minute before surrendering to the impulses of their mutual attraction.

More powerful than any physical act was just being in John's presence. She could be content just to be in the same room with him. But due to his hot and cold personality, she always questioned his permanence in her life and her importance in his. Consequently, it was the physicality that reassured her; it made it real. She knew there was something out of balance about that, but she also believed it was temporary and that once he let her into his heart more completely, the physicality would become for her a consequence of their love instead of a means by which to be sure it existed.

As he stood in the living room, putting on his t-shirt, Ellie thought about the story he told earlier.

"Hey, John? After Melanie moved on, what made you get back together again with Susan?"

"We already had some ties. It wasn't all bad with her back then. After Mel, she started acting differently. We talked and she said some things that made me feel good about giving it a second chance."

"Did you ever love her?"

"To a point. I think it was all more about convenience though and then, eventually, about not dealing with her temper."

"Doesn't exactly sound like a healthy reason to be with someone," Ellie said.

"It's not. I never used to be like that, either. I'm not sure what changed, I just got tired." He walked over to the couch where she lay. "I'm gonna head out." He took another step toward her, reaching out his hand to help her up so he could hug her. As he took her wrist and began to pull, she cringed and recoiled with a gasp.

"What? What happened? Did I hurt your wrist?" John asked, alarmed.

Ellie didn't know what had just happened or how to explain it, so she tried to quickly dismiss it, fearing it would lead to other ghostly confessions.

"No, I'm OK. Just a pain in my wrist when you pulled. You didn't do anything. It feels fine now." She wrapped her arms around John and he loosely reciprocated.

"I'll see you later, OK?" John asked, rhetorically.

"'Night, John."

She closed the door behind him and then leaned up against it. She had lied to him. It wasn't exactly pain in her wrist when he pulled it, but something did happen and it was beyond unsettling. Ellie hated it, whatever it was. Why did it have to happen on the night John told her he loved her? That was what she wanted to play over and over in her mind. That was the thought she wanted to daydream about, not the growing weirdness that was encroaching upon her formally normal world.

With strong reservation, she returned to her laptop to resume the search she was about to begin before John had come over. The name was there in the search bar, half-written. She added the remaining letters and hit enter.

Ellie sat there, sifting through the scant and irrelevant results her search returned. She tried to find info on the cemetery, the town, and even wandered into paranormal studies. Arelyth was no where to be found, except within the imagery that was beginning to force its way into Ellie's mind again.

# CREATURE DISCOMFORTS

~ 13 ~

Ellie woke up the next morning on the couch, with a dead laptop laying on her stomach and all the lights in the cottage on. She didn't remember falling asleep on the sofa, but the rest of the evening was clear as could be.

Ellie only had a few more days off before she had to go back to work and she wanted to use them to get as much research done as possible. That wasn't actually true. She wanted to have fun and do things she enjoyed, but Arelyth's appearance a few days ago had put a damper on that and the feeling of urgency was growing within her. So research it had to be.

The archives were not available today and the internet had proven a big disappointment, so she planned to try the library. It just happened to be near her favorite coffee shop and she figured she could throw in a jog at Miner's Park before that. She thought it might help burn off some of the nervous energy.

Ellie plugged in her laptop to recharge it and turned off some of the lights. She ran around in a blur, showering, getting dressed and toasting a quick breakfast in record time. She grabbed her phone and flew out the door.

When she got to Miner's Park, there were no parking spaces left anywhere near it. She circled a couple times before widening her driving circumference. Finally she found a spot nearly four blocks away. Ellie didn't mind walking, she just didn't like leaving her Jeep parked that far from the park. It wasn't the best area and though she didn't normally worry about such things, the thought was in the back of her mind.

As she made the trek to the park, she passed two blocks of shops that were being completely renovated. Three of the shops were finished and looked like they would be opening soon. A new sidewalk was going in, as well as new lamp posts and benches. Looking at it, you couldn't even tell that you were in the northern part of town. The rows of renovation ran right up to the park and on the other side of the park there were two blocks of brand new townhouses.

Ellie was glad she had to park further away and walk. She would not have gotten to see how beautiful the progress was otherwise. They had a ways to go, but it was definitely coming along.

Ellie reached the park and walked through the massive iron gates. She put in her ear buds, turned on her mp3 player and started running. Ellie knew almost every path, combination of paths and the distance of each variation she had run before. She tried to run a different one each time she was there to keep it fresh. Occasionally she would try to carve out a brand new running course, using an app on her phone to figure the distance as she ran. Then she would name it, add some description so she knew which paths it followed and save it in her phone until she could memorize it. Each course had a different feel to it and she had an idea to make a different mix of music for each one, but she hadn't gotten around to it yet. For all of the good ideas she had, she wasn't the most organized person or the best at following through on things, mainly because ideas came faster than she had time to act on them.

As the end of her run brought her back near the front gates, she put her mp3 player away and started to walk back to her Jeep. Again, she got to see the construction taking place. It was odd to see the last building in the project, as immediately after it the next building was falling apart and boarded up. The one after it wasn't nearly as bad and it made her wonder why they didn't just include one more in the project instead of having such a stark difference. Who would lease the shop next to the scary building?

Ellie hopped in her Jeep and drove to Gracie's Grind for her chai before heading to the library. When she arrived, as usual the place was busy. It was normally more of an in and out kind of busy, so there wasn't usually a long line, but today there was. It was nearly out the door.

Ellie was reconsidering how badly she needed that chai when Beth saw her and gave her a wave and then indicated for her to wait a minute. The line inched forward, which at least brought Ellie into the door frame.

Within a couple minutes, Beth was walking out from behind the counter and past the line of people over to Ellie. She handed her a medium cup and patted her shoulder. "How ya doin' kiddo? Pay me next time," Beth said, in two seconds flat, winking and rushing back to the counter.

That made Ellie's day. Beth was a really great person, but there were certain people whom she treated especially well, like Ellie. Beth knew Ellie was a good person and Ellie was usually very sweet at first and only grew more likable the more you got to know her. She always tried to be kind and treat people with respect and for that, Beth respected her. Ellie didn't always feel deserving, but she always felt appreciative.

She took her chai and walked down the sidewalk to the library, which was only a few blocks from the coffee shop. As she reached the building, a new store across the street caught her eye. The sign across the stucco front said 'The Spirit Realm.'

Ellie was curious— really curious. She wondered what was inside and if, possibly, it could help her understand her encounter with Arelyth. She wanted to check it out, but was a little self-conscious, not only about who would see her go in, but also about what she would say to the person who was working there. She decided to wait and go to the library for now, as planned.

Ellie walked up the brick steps to the door of the library. She opened the right of two wooden doors that looked like they had been painted over a few dozen times in the past one hundred fifty years. Once inside, not knowing exactly what to look up, she decided to just walk the aisles to see if anything stood out.

As Ellie turned a corner, she nearly took out a librarian carrying a stack of books. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Ellie said, trying to steady the books in the woman's arms.

"It's all right. I should be using the cart, but I think it's more direct to just carry them instead of loading them only to unload them again a few minutes later," the librarian said.

"Makes sense to me," Ellie replied.

"Can I help you find something?" The librarian set the stack of books down on a nearby table. Ellie's mind quickly searched for an answer, filtering out all words like ghost, graveyard, spirit and apparition and landing safely on the town.

"Isolde's Tyme!" Ellie blurted out.

The woman looked at her strangely.

"Sorry," Ellie said, shyly. "I mean, do you have any books on the history of Isolde's Tyme and perhaps its residents?"

"We don't, but I do know of a place that does. It is an old newspaper building, still used for the same purpose. They have archives in the lower level that contain all manner of information on the town. The building is now called E-Quill. Do you know of it?"

Feeling like she was back at square one, Ellie politely answered, "Yeah, I do. My friend works there. We couldn't get into the archives today, so I thought I would try here."

"They are very strict about who uses the archives and when. They insist an employee accompany you while down there," the librarian explained.

"Yes, exactly. Well, thank you, anyway. I will just wander around a bit and see if anything else catches my eye, as long as I'm here," Ellie said, eager to return to her browsing.

"Sure. If you need anything else, just come find me," the librarian said, before picking up her stack of books again and weaving through the aisles.

Ellie perused the genres, glimpsing at book titles and finally stopped at a shelf of books under the subject heading of 'Paranormal Studies.' She picked out a book with a title that sounded like it could hold some information that might help.

She began skimming a chapter that described what people felt when they were about to see a ghost. It stated that in almost all accounts the perceiver felt a drop in temperature or a wave of very cold air. That wasn't what Ellie felt at all. Continuing, she read that ghosts were usually only seen for a few seconds. Arelyth had been there for at least a couple minutes, unless there was some weird time-slowing thing that happened, Ellie thought. She didn't even want to go there. Reading further, it said that ghosts seldom appeared in graveyards. Ellie wasn't sure if the book was wrong or if she, perhaps, didn't have the solid perspective she thought she had.

Despite believing this was getting her nowhere, she gave it one more chance and continued to read. _Ghosts are rarely recognizable as known people._ Well that didn't apply as Ellie had no idea what Arelyth looked like in her time and when she saw her at the cemetery, she couldn't make out the details of her face, only the hint of her eyes and her expressions. _Ghosts rarely move or communicate with the witness._ Ellie slammed the book shut. They must be kidding, she thought. She actually wondered if she was losing her mind. Perhaps it wasn't as remembered? Could something else have happened? It felt too real, as much as any other event that happened that day.

Ellie was even more determined now to find something on Arelyth, if only to prove she really had seen her. She ran her finger across the spines of the books until she saw another interesting one about interacting with ghosts. The title gave her some hope. Just as she took the book out and opened it up, she heard an unmistakably shrill voice to her right.

"Planning on talking to any ghosts, Elbow?" Gretchen said, in a mean and mocking tone.

Gretchen was not alone this time. Beside her stood a tall, oafish, muscularly bulging man in a football jersey. It was Gretchen's boyfriend, Tank. He was twenty four now, two years out of college where he played football, but was never picked up by a team. Ellie supposed he was trying to hold on to his glory days, especially since it was his actual college jersey he was wearing and not a professional team's. He currently worked as a bag boy at the local supermarket.

Tank and Gretchen were prom king and queen in high school and continued dating through college. She only attended that college because it was the one to which he got a football scholarship. Unfortunately, it happened to be the college that Ellie had applied to for the exceptional dance program, so she had to spend four years avoiding Gretchen. Now, a month after they graduated from college, Gretchen and Tank were apparently still together, which made this particular meeting even more special for Ellie.

"Hello, Gretchen," Ellie said, through her teeth.

"Why am I not surprised that you believe in ghosts," Gretchen taunted.

"Talking ghosts!" Tank contributed, laughing dully.

"Can I help you with something, Gretchen?" Ellie said, wanting to avoid the matter entirely.

"Like what, a seance? I knew there was something really weird about you and now you've confirmed it. Who else knows? Miss Lori? Does she know? How about your parents, do they know what a weird-ass daughter they have? Because I feel like maybe I should let everyone know...you know, so they can get you the help you need."

Ellie was growing furious inside. She had overcome enough hurdles recently, she didn't need Gretchen adding more, insignificant or not. She didn't really care about Gretchen's threats, as most people knew the girl was obnoxious, but Ellie didn't need to be tormented either. At the moment, she just wanted her to go away. She didn't have too many days before work started again to find something on Arelyth.

"If you're finished, I really do need to get back to my research. I have a brunch planned for some of the soldiers of the Union army tomorrow and I want to be sure I know how to keep the conversation flowing," Ellie threw in, ensuring that even if a person couldn't tell that Gretchen had no credibility as a human being, that it was absurd enough that no one would believe her anyway.

Ellie's comment achieved a whole three seconds of silence from Gretchen, who, not entirely sure what to make of it, became even meaner.

"You are insane, Elbow Mayfreak," Gretchen said, stepping closer, almost as if she were going to push her. She didn't, but the advance did catch Ellie off guard and made her wonder just how much more was wrong about Gretchen that she didn't already know about.

Tank stepped forward and reached for Gretchen's arm, pulling her back toward him.

"Stay away from her Gretch. She isn't right. Let's go," Tank said, taking his girlfriend and beginning to turn away to leave. Before he did, he added his own comments to Ellie. "Get help, you loser! And if you steal another role from my girlfriend, you _will_ be seeing me again."

As Tank and Gretchen walked away, anger and attitude in their stride, she wondered a couple things. She wondered what could possibly be so off inside of them that the book another person was reading would upset them to that degree. She also wondered how two people she did not care about at all had succeeded in making her feel even a little bad.

In the back of her mind, it continued to bother her. Despite that, she kept looking through book after book for any information that might help her in even the smallest way. Instead, she kept finding accounts that were in direct contrast to what she had experienced. It was unnerving and all the while she kept thinking about the store she had seen across the street, only now she was of two minds about it. On the one hand, she thought maybe they could shed some much needed light on the matter. On the other hand, she wasn't sure if she could handle hearing it if they said all the same things as the library books she was reading.

Ellie closed the book she was holding and slid it back into the vacant space on the shelf. She had no idea where else to look and felt like she was getting nowhere. She was hungry and frustrated and needed to clear her head in hopes of salvaging the day by thinking of another avenue by which to find something on Arelyth.

She walked out of the aisle and through the maze of bookshelves. She threw a quick glance toward the psychology section on her way to the door, but decided it was a little premature for that. Besides, if she wanted to know if she was certifiable, Scotlyn could certainly get Trent to tell her. Ellie exited the library and jogged back down the brick steps. She looked at the shop across the street again and as she did, she felt that feeling of urgency in her body, stronger than before. She had to try.

Ellie looked both ways down the busy street and headed across, but when she reached the other sidewalk, she saw the big closed sign in the window. Ellie felt a moment of devastation. She was surprised it was that strong and she almost felt like an observer of herself, one step removed, but that was definitely the feeling: devastation. It only lasted a moment and she was back to frustration, but she couldn't deny that she was tied to this in ways she did not understand.

Ellie walked back across the street. She was parked near the coffee shop so she had a few blocks to walk. It was a beautiful day and normally she wouldn't mind, but today she felt like she hadn't accomplished anything yet. The walk did serve a purpose, though. The warmth of the air and the bright blue sky above her did make her feel a little better. She loved being outside. When a little bird swooped down and landed on the bench she was walking past, she had to smile. For a moment, she felt like maybe she could turn the day around...until she reached her Jeep.

Ellie closed her eyes and let her head fall back in defeat, sighing, "No," to no one in particular. When she opened them again, she was starring at two flat tires.

Ellie sat on a bench outside the coffee shop and starred down at her phone, trying to think of who she would be bothering the least by calling. Her parents were working. Scotlyn and Trent were supposed to be taking a day trip somewhere, but she didn't remember what time that was happening or for how long, so she took a chance.

"Hey, Scot. I'm really sorry to be calling for the reason I am, but I am outside the coffee shop and my Jeep has two flats," Ellie explained, feeling like more of a burden with every word.

"Two?!" Scotlyn exclaimed. "How did you get two flats?"

"I have no idea. Maybe I drove over a bottle when I was parking. I'm kind of stuck here. I know you said you and Trent were spending the day out before his internship starts tomorrow, but I didn't know if you had left yet. Is there any way you can come get me?"

"You know I would, but we are like two hours from there, so even if we left now— " Scotlyn began, before Ellie cut her off.

"No, no, I get it. You don't have to explain. I hate even having to ask. I will try John," Ellie said.

"El, just out of curiosity, why didn't you call John first?"

"I haven't told him about Arelyth, yet. So if he comes out here, I figured I would either have to tell him about her, or lie and I really didn't want to do either," Ellie explained.

"Gotcha. Let me try something and call you back. If you find someone first, text me."

"All right, thanks, I will. Have fun, you guys!" Ellie said.

She looked down at her phone again, this time starring at the name John. She really didn't want to lie to him and she wasn't ready to tell him about Arelyth. She knew she could, in honesty, say that she went for a jog and a coffee. It wasn't the full day's events, but it wasn't a lie either. Ellie knew that the other part of the reason she didn't call him was because she didn't want to hear him say he couldn't come get her, especially if it was for some trivial reason that was just going to make her feel worthless.

A tow truck would cost a fortune, so she scrolled through the other names in her phone. There were plenty of people who probably would have picked her up, but most of them she didn't feel like she talked to regularly enough or in a way that gave her the right to ask. It just made Ellie uncomfortable to ask for help and the more it required someone to go out of their way, the more uncomfortable the asking.

Before she could settle on the next person she would call, Scotlyn's incoming call appeared on Ellie's phone.

"Hi again, you," Ellie said.

"Hey, listen, Ty has a friend that lives near there. He is going to give him a call and have him drive over to where you are. He'll fix your tire situation so you can drive your Jeep," Scotlyn said.

"That's so great! Thanks, Scot and tell Ty I said thanks, too!" Ellie replied.

"Will do. The guy's name is Jack," Scotlyn said. "I'll talk to ya tonight. Bye, El."

"Bye, Scot. Thanks, again!"

Ellie waited on the bench for about fifteen minutes before a vehicle pulled up alongside her Jeep. A guy inside reached over and rolled down the passenger side window and leaning across the seat asked, "Hey, are you Ellie?"

"Yeah, that's me," Ellie said.

"Hi, I'm Jack. Ty sent me. I'm gonna try to find a place to park and I'll come have a look at those tires for you. Be right back."

Jack began driving down the street again. He drove a few blocks before circling back and passing the Jeep. As he turned back down the street again, someone pulled out a couple cars behind Ellie's and he quickly swung in.

Jack jumped out of his Cherokee, stepped onto the sidewalk and walked over to Ellie. He looked down at the tires and began visually exploring the ground behind, in front of and around them. He squatted near the rear wheel and examined it closely. He made a sound like he found something and then jumped over to the front wheel, examining it in the same way.

Jack stood up, his hands on his waist and looked at Ellie. "Piss off anyone lately?" Jack asked.

"What?" Ellie was surprised by his question.

"Your tires were slashed. Both of them. I was just joking with my question. It was probably a random act by some punk. I'll change them out for you," Jack said and smiled.

He grabbed the things he needed, jacked up the Jeep and began removing the tires. He clearly knew what he was doing. He had on some stylishly worn jeans and a t-shirt and there was already a bit of grease on his hands before he started, so Ellie guessed that working on cars was something he did for work or as a hobby.

"I really appreciate you coming out here to help. Can I get you a coffee or something?" Ellied asked, gesturing to the coffee shop behind her.

"Thanks, a coffee would be great!"

Ellie went inside and looked for Beth. Fortunately, the line was a lot shorter now than earlier. She walked to the counter, looking down toward the back kitchen when Beth came up from behind her, having been serving some customers at a table.

"Hey, sweetie. You just can't get enough of our chai, huh?" Beth joked.

Ellie chuckled. "Actually, could I get two small coffees, please? To go."

"Sure thing, but since when do you drink coffee?" Beth asked, her nose crinkling a bit as she squinted at the oddity of the order.

"I know. One is for the guy who is changing my tires out front and as for me, I thought I'd just keep it simple, that's all," Ellie explained.

"Oh, I see," Beth said, in a tone that suggested something might be going on out there. Ellie smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Two coffees, coming up." Beth swung around to the other side of the counter and grabbed two paper cups. "Your timing is excellent. Thirty minutes earlier and you would have run into Gretchen. She was in here with that mammoth boyfriend of hers."

Ellie froze. She must have been a million miles away as it was just dawning on her that it had to have been Gretchen and Tank who slashed her tires. She didn't have a way to prove it, but the moment the realization occurred to her, she could feel that it was dead on.

"Hey there, kiddo. You well? I lost you for a second there," Beth said, with a slight concern. Assuming Ellie's phase-out was due to what she was just saying, she added, "Don't let those two get to you. They will move on, eventually. They aren't worth the energy."

"Oh, yeah, no, I know," Ellie said, snapping herself out of it. "I was just thinking of something."

"Something...someone?" Beth implied, smiling mischievously.

"I have a boyfriend."

"Well bring him in next time. I always see you in here alone. You're making me sad," Beth joked.

Ellie laid some money on the counter and grabbed the coffees, thanking Beth on her way out. She stepped outside and walked over to Jack, handing him one of the coffees. The thought of Gretchen and Tank actually taking an action against her was unsettling and disturbing, so much so that she had forgotten to pay Beth for the chai from earlier. Ellie hardly knew Jack and she didn't want to let on or look upset in front of him.

"Here you go," Ellie said, kindly.

"Thank you!" Jack took the cup appreciatively. "So how long have you known Ty?"

"Since I was about four or five. His sister, Scotlyn, and I are best friends, so we all pretty much grew up together."

"I'm surprised I've never met you then. Ty and I have been friends since the second grade. He is the reason I got into fixing cars. When we were fourteen, we decided to 'borrow' my grandmother's car and try driving. We ended up crashing it into a tree in the backyard," Jack laughed. "It wasn't actually banged up, it just wouldn't start after that. I was terrified of what I had coming to me, so I tinkered with that car until I got it running again. Afterwards I realized how much I had enjoyed the challenge. Still doing it today...the working on cars, not so much the crashing them."

Ellie laughed and then she heard her phone ringing. It was Tyler.

"Hi, Ty."

"El, did Jack get there? Is everything going all right?"

"Yeah, he's here fixing the tires. Thanks for setting this up for me."

"It's not a problem at all. Did he—" Tyler began, but Jack interrupted by speaking to Ellie. He did so in a quick, hushed tone, in an effort not to be rude.

"Ellie, I'll be right back. I'm going to scrap these. No one is going to be able to use tires that are slashed." Jack grabbed a tire in each arm and walked down the street to recycle the rubber. Ellie nodded and returned to her call, but Tyler had heard Jack's comments.

"Slashed?" Tyler said, with disconcert. "Who slashed your tires?"

"I actually think I know, but I can't prove it. I was in the library today, trying to find something, anything, on you-know-who and ran into Gretchen and Tank. They were pretty horrible, as usual, but before they left," Ellie hesitated, "they were almost...threatening."

"Threatening, how?" Tyler asked.

"Just their body language and the things they said. I don't really want to repeat it. I don't even want to remember it. It was all pretty irrational though. Anyway, I just have a feeling they did this. When Beth mentioned they were here in the coffee shop half an hour ago, that pretty much confirmed it for me."

Tyler was silent for a moment. "I'm not going to press for it, but what they said might be important, so maybe some other time, if you feel like letting me know," Tyler said, with reserve. "This is not all right, El...what they have done, it's criminal. If it really was them, they have just crossed a serious line. Just do me a favor and try to keep your distance from them, OK?"

"When do I ever go seeking them out?"

"I know. I'll let you go. Jack's a good guy; he'll fix up the Jeep, so you can drive home. I'll give him a call later to thank him."

"All right, thanks again, Ty," Ellie said, before hanging up.

Jack continued to work on the Jeep for the next thirty minutes, he and Ellie making casual conversation as he did. When he finished up, Ellie thanked him again and climbed into the driver's seat. Jack leaned in her passenger side window.

"It was nice meeting you," Jack said, honestly. But it was his next statement that made Ellie realize that he knew more than he let on earlier; he knew it wasn't a random punk. "Whoever they are, stay away from them. Stay safe."

With that he tapped the top of the door a couple times where he had been leaning and backed up from the car, so she could pull out of the parking space.

Ellie was already uneasy about the new lengths that Gretchen had gone to, not to mention her large and equally angry sidekick now bearing down on Ellie, as well. But the warning from two men within a thirty minute period had caused real fear to set in. For a girl who always believed that all was essentially well, she did not enjoy the departure from that feeling.

Considering her enemys' irrationality, she wasn't even sure of what she should or could do. She did know avoiding them wasn't a long term answer and as she drove home, she wished she knew what was. But for now, it was back to finding whatever information was going to settle the growing queasiness in her stomach.

# MOVIE NIGHT

~ 14 ~

Tyler stood on the large concrete slab, framing one of the walls of the new museum that was being built in the center of Isolde's Tyme. He took a couple nails from his tool belt, slipped one between his lips and held the other on the stud. He hammered it into the wood, took the nail from his mouth and did the same with it. TJ, a new guy, walked past him with a pneumatic nail gun.

"Whoa there, TJ. Where are you working with that?" Tyler asked, ready to enlighten the new guy.

"You can't seriously expect me to use a hammer? Who does that anymore?" TJ asked, thinking he was making a valid argument.

"That may be true enough, but this is period build and I have yet to find a pneumatic gun that shoots antique square-head nails. If you manage to find one of those, then let me know!" Tyler said.

"Antique nails? So they don't care how long the structure remains standing?"

Tyler laughed under his breath.

"They are reclaimed nails. If they are solid, they are re-used. The rest are reproductions, but they are made in basically the same manner as they used to be, so when it comes to getting them in the wood, they may as well be antique," Tyler explained, while continuing to frame the wall.

"This is going to be one of those fun jobs, I can see," TJ said, sarcastically.

"It's going to be frickin' awesome, TJ, unless you like history, in which case, it actually is fun," Tyler retorted.

TJ walked away to put his nail gun back in his truck. A few of the other guys were heading over to work in the same area as Tyler. They caught sight of TJ and his air gun.

"Duck hunting, TJ?" Jim yelled out.

"You planning on cheating at darts again, TJ?" Tyrone shouted.

"Hey, TJ. I think you got the wrong site. You're about 200 years early." Mike hollered.

The guys all laughed as, one by one, they ripped on him. It was his first period build, not to mention his first experience with the quirky small-town ways of Isolde's Tyme.

"Easy on him there, fellas. We don't want him quitting. That would mean longer hours for us," Tyler joked.

"I say we mess with him. We'll tell him to go clear the field out back. Anybody got a scythe," Tyrone asked, cracking up the guys, including himself.

As TJ made his way back to the job site, they started up again, in newbie-initiation tradition, occasionally patting him on the back to let him know it was all in fun.

"No job has ever insisted I use methods that are harder and slower, so somebody is gonna have to fill me in on your neanderthal ways," TJ said, with sarcastic earnestness. "Would you like these stairs to creak when we're finished?"

"Only if its a primitive creak," Mike came back.

"What the fuck is a _primitive_ creak?" TJ asked. "Oh, wait, maybe one of us should hang himself from the beams, provide a turn-key haunting. It'll be a bonus."

"Ropes in the toolbox, TJ," Tyler said, managing to keep a straight face.

They all laughed, including TJ, albeit sarcastically. He knew he had to earn his place. Many of the guys had worked with each other several times before on various sites.

Marc stepped onto the slab carrying some lumber. "What's going on? It sounds like you guys are at a comedy club," Marc said.

"TJs gonna hang himself, so the new museum can have a ghost," Jim said. "You're just in time."

"No thank you," Marc said. "I have no desire to see a ghost again."

The guys laughed, but Tyler turned serious upon hearing the statement.

"Again? _Again_? Tell me you're joking or drunk," Tyrone said.

Marc placed the lumber down and moved a ladder over to where he was going to start working.

"Say what you will, but I spent sixteen years working on restorations and I have seen my share of oddities, usually in the form of _no_ form," Marc said, impervious to their jeers.

"Maybe you should talk to TJ before he offs himself; give him some pointers. I'm guessing he's new to the ghosting business," Mike laughed.

"Very funny, guys. Very funny," TJ said.

Tyler slid his hammer into his belt and walked over to the ladder that Marc was about to ascend. "Hey, Marc. Boss wanted me to go over some things with you. Can I talk to you in the office?"

Marc followed Tyler, the guys continuing their sitcom as they walked away. "Hey, Ty. When Marc's talking, make sure he's looking at you. If he's staring off into space while he's talking, run!" Jim said.

"Unless she's a pretty ghost and then bring her back here with ya," Mike added, laughing hard.

Tyler and Marc walked into the small mobile office. Tyler was still serious and Marc began to wonder if there was a problem with his work. Tyler had one arm crossed over his stomach and the other resting perpendicular over it. His thumb under his chin, his fist covered his mouth. He turned and leaned back, sitting on the edge of a metal desk, facing Marc, but still looking down with a hard stare for a few more seconds before finally raising his eyes to Marc.

"Is something wrong?" Marc asked.

"No, no. Sorry, man. It's not about work," Tyler informed him. "I just wanted to get away from the guys and avoid them giving us a hard time. You know how they are, clearly. I'd like this conversation to stay between you and I."

"Sure thing," Marc agreed.

"I have this friend who might have seen something. I don't know much yet, but I thought maybe if I asked you some questions about what you saw, I might be able to offer her some answers or at least a starting point," Tyler explained.

"Yeah, sure, ask away. I don't mind," Marc said, openly.

"I'm not totally sure how to begin a conversation like this." Tyler never in his life thought he'd be having this conversation. "You said you _saw_ something?"

"I did. It was a restoration project of a 1750's Victorian mansion. Some of the guys would joke about unexplained noises and the like. To me, that just sounded like par for the course for such an old house. So I went about my work, expecting to occasionally hear creaks or the wind whistling through the drafty attic.

"One night I was working late in one of the master bedrooms. Most of the other guys had gone home already, but I was doing some fine detail work and I wanted to finish it up. I heard a noise like someone sitting on an old bed, except there was no bed in the room. The furniture had all been moved out until the job was completed. I didn't know it at the time, but the sound came from where the bed had been.

"The noise didn't bother me much and I just went back to my work. In the moment I turned my attention back to the job, a music box began to play. This time, I was a little unnerved, since there was no music box in the room, but I assumed it was just one of the guys trying to give me a stir.

"When it stopped a few moments later, I took a look around and peeked my head out the door, but no one was there. When I turned back to the room, I saw a woman. She was as solid as you or I, so although I was startled, I quickly assumed she must be the wife of one of the men and was looking for him or there to drive him home.

"Just as I began to ask if I could help her find someone, she disappeared. I mean vanished— instantly."

"But she was solid you said? No transparency at all?" Tyler asked, well caught up in the story.

"None whatsoever. It wasn't until later that it even occurred to me that her clothes were vintage and her hair style was beautiful, but not in a way you see today."

"Did she say anything? Was she aware of you?" Tyler questioned further.

"No, she didn't say anything. She was absolutely aware of me though. She looked directly at me," Marc said, with certainty.

Tyler had both of his hands on the edge of the metal desk upon which he sat. He leaned forward a bit, looking at the floor and thinking of what he could ask that might be helpful in their understanding of Arelyth. "Did you ever see her again or find out anything about her?"

"No. I told one fellow, whom I had heard saw something once. He said he had seen her twice. The first time, it was similar to my experience in its unexpectedness. The second time, he swore was his own doing," Marc recounted.

"How?" Tyler blurted. "How did he say he did it?"

"I don't know if it was really his doing. It could just be coincidence. He said he lit a certain type of candles and had a specific thing he said. I couldn't tell you what it was. I don't exactly go looking to see things like that. He seemed utterly convinced it was his own doing though."

"Did he say what happened the second time?"

"He said he saw her again, maybe a bit longer that time. To be honest, the whole thing made me a little unsettled, so I was really only half listening and probably thinking even that was more than what I wanted to be doing," Marc confessed. "I really didn't look into any aspect of it further."

Tyler let out an extended exhale, his mouth set in a hard line. He had hoped he could get something that would be useful, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen. He nodded sharply in acceptance.

"All right, well thank you for the account. I appreciate it," Tyler said, slapping his hand on Marc's shoulder, both to support the verbal thanks and as a gesture to signal he could get back to work now.

"That's OK. I don't mind at all. I hope it helps your friend some," Marc said, on his way out the door.

Tyler walked back to the metal desk and sat down. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and laid his face in his hands for a moment. He sat up, running his hands through his hair and over his head and then with a sharp exhale, sent his palms down, hitting the top of the desk. So much for being helpful, he thought. On top of that, he just discussed ghosts with a crew member, in a serious manner. If any of the guys ever caught wind of that, he would never live it down. He stood up, shaking his head in disbelief and left the office to go back to work.

Tyler continued work on the museum until his nine hour work day ended at four o'clock. He made one stop at a store and then drove to Ellie's place.

Ellie answered his knock on the door. "Hi," she said, surprised to see him.

"Hi. I'm glad to see you got home all right," Tyler said.

Ellie stepped aside, letting him come into the cottage. He was still in his work clothes, though from the look of them it was an easy day. He held a white bag in one hand.

"Yeah, thanks for saving me today...or sending someone to save me, I mean."

"Of course. Jack's a good guy and knows pretty much everything there is to know about cars."

"Like how to get them started after they crash into a tree?" Ellie smiled, knowingly.

"Ah, he told you about that, huh?" Tyler ran his hand through his hair, as if to brush away the awkwardness of her knowing about his childhood blunder. "I'll have to remember to thank him for that."

"Oh, don't even worry about it, it's fine. I just know that if I ever go anywhere with you, to make sure I drive," she teased.

"Ha, ha!" he said, in an exaggerated way. "I am an expert behind the wheel. I had help crashing that car, don't forget. Plus, if I recall correctly, I don't remember any trees flying through the windshield when I took you out for Thai food a few months ago."

Ellie cocked her head in thought, the corners of her mouth slightly turned up. "True, though I do recollect you taking a lot of backroads, the ones that pass farms and fields, where there aren't many trees near the road line. I had thought you were just enhancing an already nice gesture by taking the scenic route, but now I see you were just decreasing the likelihood of arbor-cide," Ellie said, in a comically deductive way.

" _Arbor-cide_?" Tyler questioned, abjectly.

Ellie could not hold back her laughter any longer and the more he chided her, the harder she laughed.

"Arbor-cide! That's awful! Wow, remind me to make a request in my will that you not be the one to give my eulogy. A mind that can conceive such a pitiful linguistic analogy, is not someone I want speaking on my behalf," Tyler teased.

Ellie was so in stitches, she could barely catch her breath. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed so hard and for the first time since Saturday, she wasn't feeling uneasy in her body or any of the other physical off-ness that had been such a frequent player.

"Hey there, breathe," Tyler said, with playful concern. "I don't want you passing out on me. Not only is that boring, but I don't have any friends on the EMT."

She did slowly settle and walked over to the fridge. "Want something to drink?"

"Sure. I'd love a water if you've got one."

Ellie tossed Tyler a bottle of water and grabbed one for herself as well. Tyler sat on one of the stools at the counter, placing the bag on the next chair. "So do you want to hear something interesting? Well, I should say, something that was _supposed_ to be interesting," he corrected himself.

"Yeah, sure." Ellie leaned on the other side of the counter, readying herself for his story.

"I was working over at the museum build today and some of the guys were joking about..." Tyler stopped and rethought his starting place for the story. "I'm actually gonna skip that part. Some weird humor there. Anyway, one of the guys mentioned that he used to work on restorations a lot and that he saw a ghost once."

Ellie's jaw went slack and her eyes rounded.

"Of course, the guys gave him a hard time, so I pulled him aside and asked him about it, hoping I could find out something that might help us with Arelyth."

"Did you? What did he say?" Ellie asked, eagerly.

"Not much. He saw a lady in the room he was working in one night. Get this— she wasn't transparent, at all. He said she was as solid as you or I. He thought she was completely aware of him, though. Anyway, she was only there a few seconds and she disappeared."

"Disappeared how?"

"Instantly, he said. There's more. He said he talked to a guy there about it and that this guy had apparently also seen her, twice. The man said the first time was unexpected, but that the second time he saw her, he swore it was a result of his deliberate conjuring."

"How?!" Ellie blurted, just as Tyler had earlier, upon hearing that same part of the story. "How did he get her to come back?"

"He hadn't been interested enough to listen when the guy told him. Something about candles and a specific thing he said. I don't know. I wish he'd had more information. I can't even be certain how credible the whole thing is," Tyler added, a bit of the disappointment returning in his voice.

"That's great, though! It means maybe it IS possible!" Ellie exclaimed, almost shouting in her enthusiasm. "This is equally crazy, but guess what?"

Tyler raised his eyebrows to her, waiting for the verbal reveal.

"When I was at the library this morning, I saw a store across the street called 'The Spirit Realm.' I wanted to go in, but I was too embarrassed and then when I finally did get up the nerve, they were closed. I wonder if they might know something in there?"

"I know two people who aren't working tomorrow, who would be glad to drive up there with you to find out," Tyler said, the right corner of his mouth slowing turning up.

"Really? Are you serious?"

"Ellie, today I asked a man to describe his run-in with a ghost to me. I'm invested," he laughed.

Ellie laughed, shyly. After a few moments, still leaning on the counter, though more relaxed, she looked up at Tyler, raising her eyebrows and squinting. "Not transparent, huh?"

"Nope. Sorry."

"That pretty much fits in with the theme of my day," she acknowledged. "Every book I looked through in the library was in total contrast with what I experienced. They said they don't move. Mine moved. They said they don't talk. Mine definitely talked. They said they are unaware. Mine was very much aware."

"The guy at the site said his was aware. So that's good, at least."

"Yeah, that's one thing, anyway. The books said the witness usually feels cold air first. I didn't. It said they only appear for a few seconds. Mine was there for a few _minutes_. And, get this— it said they rarely appear in a graveyard. By the time I left, I really wondered if I was nuts...or drugged or something," Ellie admitted.

"I seriously doubt you were drugged."

"Thanks a lot!" Ellie said, splashing water on him. He promptly responded in like manner and had they not drank most of their water by that point, they probably would have gotten fairly drenched. It was a lot of fun, regardless.

"Hey, do you have burgers in that freezer?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah, I think I do." Ellie checked and then confirmed, "Yep, I do."

"I'm starving. How about I grill us up some burgers and then we dive into the research I brought over?"

Ellie had no idea how to use a grill, so his offer sounded really good. "The burger part sounds great, yeah, but what is the research part about?"

"Ah, it's plan B." Tyler grabbed his white plastic bag from the chair. He pulled out DVD's, one at a time. As he did, Ellie read them off.

"The Sixth Sense, The Others, Poltergeist...oh, part one _and_ two. The Orphanage, An American Haunting and Stir of Echoes?" Ellie said, curiously amused.

"Yep. Like I said, research." Tyler had a sincere and entertaining bent.

"How long were you planning on staying?" Ellie joked. "There's like twelve hours worth of movies here."

"We'll start with the one that stands out the most to you and see where we get," he said, logically.

"Seriously? We're going to learn about ghosts from movies?" Ellie asked, with a quirky smile.

"Sure, why not? You tried to learn about ghosts from books. At least my idea is in color," he pointed out, making her laugh. "Maybe we'll get an idea."

Ellie smiled widely, thoroughly amused by his sweet, insane and fun thought.

"Besides," he added, "if nothing else, we let the ghosts be someone else's problem for a night."

# STILL HERE

~ 15 ~

Ellie woke up after five hours of sleep. The sun was shining in her eyes. Tyler and her had been doing movie research until the middle of the morning. She lay there, wanting to go back to sleep, but knowing that Scotlyn and Tyler were meeting her at the new store she had seen yesterday. Ellie tried to remember if Tyler had left last night.

She dragged herself out of bed and tiptoed out the door, peaking around the corner into the living room. It was empty, so she assumed he must have left when they finally shut the television off last night. Everything about the last movie they watched was a blur. She vaguely remembered falling asleep during it twice and Tyler waking her to see if she wanted to call it quits. She tried to fight to stay awake but, eventually, she just couldn't. After that, Ellie had no recollection.

It was a particularly warm morning, so Ellie grabbed a summer dress from her closet and laid it on the bed. She climbed into the shower and as the warm water rained down upon her face, she felt as though she could fall asleep right there in the shower. Ellie knew that today was going to be another one of those coffee exception days.

Ellie continued through most of her shower with her eyes closed, still half asleep as she toweled herself off. She went back to her bedroom and put on the summer dress she had picked out. She twisted a length of hair on either side of her face and joined them together with a clip in the back of her head. The rest of her hair was wet and wavy, but the hot sun would dry it soon enough.

With a little light makeup and a pair of sandals, she was as ready as she was going to be. She looked back to her bed longingly and then reluctantly left her bedroom.

Ellie picked up her phone and texted Scotlyn. _COFFEE!!_ She grabbed her bag and got in the Jeep to drive up to 'The Spirit Realm.' She hadn't eaten; when she was overly tired, she didn't usually have an appetite. Now, as she drove, she was beginning to wish she had, as she listened to her stomach churning.

Within twenty five minutes she was on the street where the store was located, looking for a parking spot. She saw Scotlyn's car and an empty space just a few stores in front of it. Ellie pulled in and as she got out of the Jeep, she heard her best friend's voice.

"Here you are! I got you coffee." Scotlyn extended the cup out in front of her.

"Bless you," Ellie moaned.

"Yeah, Ty filled me in on the ghost movie marathon. So did you guys learn anything? Wait, let me guess— you learned not to say Beetlejuice more than two times in a row?" Scotlyn teased.

"No," Ellie said, shaking her head and waving her hand for emphasis. "Of course not."

"We didn't even have Beetlejuice on our viewing list," Tyler said, in tag-team fashion with Ellie.

"Yeah, it was only relevant movies, not the ones that were clearly for entertainment only," Ellie added, building off of Tyler's answer.

"Relevant movies? You guys are nuts. Was there alcohol involved?" Scotlyn asked, now clearly making fun of them.

"Ty had a beer or two. I had water. If we learned anything, though, I honestly don't remember. Ty, did we learn anything?" Ellie looked to him in question.

"I...I don't remember either," he admitted.

"Wait, no," Ellie jumped in. "I learned that I need more than five hours of sleep."

Tyler laughed under his breath and Scotlyn rolled her eyes and shook her head, half smiling. Without looking at him, Scotlyn shoved Tyler with one hand, saying, "You are a bad influence." With the other hand she took Ellie's elbow and started walking toward the shop.

"I am not a bad influence," Tyler said, in a jokingly wounded tone.

They were a few blocks from the shop and though early, it was already very hot out. The sun was beating down upon them. Ellie was glad she wore a light dress. Then she noticed Scotlyn was wearing a skirt and a nice blouse, almost too nice for a day off. Ellie looked at Tyler. He was wearing khaki shorts that came to just above his knees and his sneakers looked brand new. He had a golf shirt on, the kind that had the little polo player on the pocket. It suddenly occurred to her that they all had the same thought on some level; they were all attempting to look like they had it together, like they were healthy, sane, upstanding people, in hopes that it might somehow counter-balance the fact that they were about to inquire about a ghost they had seen and needed to contact again. She smiled to herself.

"Do we even know if they're open?" Ellie asked, as it suddenly occurred to her.

"Yeah, I called them," Scotlyn answered.

"Thank God for you," Ellie said.

Ellie still felt like her head was in a fog. At least she didn't have the headache this morning that had woken her in the middle of the night. She was happy for that, but the uneasy feeling in her stomach was still there. A sense of urgency lingered, as if hovering a few steps behind and gaining on her slowly but consistently.

They reached the store. The sign above their heads was an indigo blue with stars and symbols around the edges, all surrounding the words 'The Spirit Realm.' They paused a moment to look at the display windows and then proceeded to enter.

As they passed through the entryway, chimes played an ethereal melody. There was a strong scent of incense. The walls were painted in deep but colorful tones, with most of the lighting coming from candles and therefore providing a dimmer ambiance.

Every shelf and counter and table were covered in sale items and decorations. It was well-arranged, but there was hardly an empty space in the entire shop. It was a lot to take in. Tyler, Scotlyn and Ellie gazed around the store, intrigued but uncertain of what to make of it or of where to even begin.

A woman appeared from behind a beaded curtain, smiling brightly. She wore a long skirt and a loose blouse that flowed down over the waist of the skirt. Her hair was tightly waved, long and reddish, with streaks of purple running through it. She wore a large amulet around her neck and was completely barefoot.

"Welcome! Welcome to my shop! This is your first time here. Please, let me help you find what you are looking for today. My name is Mira," she said, in a warm and radiant tone. She exuded an energy that was contagious and extremely positive.

"Hi, I'm Ellie and these are my friends, Ty and Scotlyn. We were actually wondering— or hoping— that you might be able to give us some information. It's a subject we aren't familiar with at all and when I saw the name of your store yesterday, I thought, possibly, that you might be the person to ask," Ellie fumbled through her words hesitantly, a shyness in her demeanor.

"I will assume you are speaking about a non-physical presence or encounter?" Mira asked.

Ellie took a deep breath, drew back the sides of her mouth clenching her teeth and admitted bashfully, "Yeah."

"Come, sit down around my table," Mira invited.

They each pulled out a chair, no one seat matching another, and sat. The table was covered with items, so they could not rest their arms upon it. Tyler and Scotlyn looked to be relaxed enough sitting there, yet Ellie just felt awkward.

"Tell me what you experienced and what you are seeking to learn," Mira instructed.

"Well, I was at a graveyard the other day and I saw a woman...like a ghost. I went to the library yesterday to try to learn more, but everything I found almost alluded to the idea that I couldn't have seen what I saw." Ellie began feeling uncomfortable.

"Which was what?" Mira asked.

"A woman. She was...I could see through her. Everything about her was more suggestive than clear and it was all...flowing, for lack of a better word. She spoke to me for a good three minutes and I wondered how I could...or if it's possible, I mean...to see her again...and how?" Ellie asked, deciding at the last minute not to introduce the part about her having to save this ghost.

"Forget the books in the library. Most of them were written by scientists and skeptics. There are far more books on the topic than what you will find in the library. Now, as for what you saw, there are no rules. Each encounter is specific to the observer, even if there are several people all seeing the same exact thing. So have no worries about that," Mira smiled, warmly.

"Yes, is the answer to your question. You can see her again, which is to say it is possible. Beyond that, it is up to the woman. You cannot force your will. The fact that she remained and interacted with you for so long makes it much more likely that you would be able to connect with her again.

"That's great news," Tyler said. "How do we do that...connect with her?"

"Well I would suggest returning to the place where you first saw her. The rest of what I am going to tell you is a little different than what most would advise, but I devised my method a long time ago and I not only have found it to be extremely successful, but I have also found that those I entrust it to, also seem to have higher than usual success rates. Now, that is not to say that I, or anyone else, can guarantee success," Mira explained.

She went on to tell them what they would need. Some of the items they already had and were common household items. The items they didn't already own, they bought at her shop. There weren't many and her instructions were very simple.

"There is one other option. It increases your chances significantly but also increases the chances that you may see others that you are not specifically attempting to contact. It is a completely safe and legal plant-based mixture and it relaxes your mind to such an extent that you are thoroughly in a receptive state of mind. It is not something I would recommend doing on your own. If you opted to try it, I would say your friends should definitely be with you, although I would strongly suggest it be done here. Despite it not being the location you first encountered the spirit, the chances are still extremely high that you would make contact again," Mira explained.

"Thank you," Tyler interjected. "I think we will pass and try your first suggestion for now.

Scotlyn looked at her brother. She knew he basically just said, 'Over my dead body,' but anyone else would have just heard a polite decline.

"Thank you so much for your help. I'm so glad we came in here and got to meet you," Ellie said, appreciatively.

"You are most welcome! Please do return anytime. I would like to know how it turns out for you," Mira said, sincerely.

On the way out the door, Ellie saw a sign that said 'Psychic readings by Mira.' Though she had no experience with such things, nor did she know if they were actually accurate, a part of her wanted to turn right around and ask Mira all of the questions she was harboring within, both about Arelyth...and about John. Had her friends not been with her, she may have done just that. For now, she fought the urge and walked out the door, triggering the chimes to sing their heavenly song again.

Coming from the coolness of the store, when they stepped outside the heat hit them full on. They started back to their vehicles.

"So what's the plan?" Scotlyn asked.

"Well, Mira said between 11:30pm and midnight is the best time, so why don't we meet at the bridge at eleven," Tyler proposed, "and we can walk over to the cemetery from there. In fact, I may as well pick up you and El, so we don't have three vehicles there."

"You guys are really going to do this with me?" Ellie asked, almost in disbelief of how great her friends were to her.

"El, who else could give us stories like this?" Scotlyn joked. "Of course we're doing this with you!"

"Ditto," Tyler said.

"All right. It sounds like a plan, then. So, you'll come get me around quarter to eleven?" Ellie confirmed.

"Right-oh, Mac," Tyler said.

"Indubitably, Tosh," Scotlyn said, completing the skit.

"You guys make ghosts seem not so weird," Ellie laughed. "See ya tonight."

Ellie got into her Jeep and Tyler and Scotlyn got into Scotlyn's car and they all went back to their day. It was still early but definitely too uncomfortable to be outside for any length of time. Ellie decided she was going to attempt to spend some time doing something normal, like finishing unpacking and decorating her new apartment. Tyler went jet skiing with some friends. Scotlyn went shopping with her mom, a mother/daughter outing that would also happen to take advantage of the mall's air conditioning. Each of them were able to let Arelyth slip from their minds, but it was especially nice for Ellie, who rarely got a break from the questions or the worry or the imagery. They had a plan and it offered some relief. For Ellie, it offered a lot of relief.

The day went by and as it got closer to 10:00pm, Ellie was fading. She realized she should have taken a nap during the day, but after the trip to Mira's store, she was feeling lighter and more energetic, so she took advantage of that and finished all of her unpacking and even painted the bathroom. She felt good about what she had accomplished, but after having only gotten five hours of sleep the night before, now she was paying for it and it was too late to do anything about it.

When she finally heard Tyler's truck pull into the driveway, she grabbed a small bag with a few items they had purchased that morning and she was out the door.

"Hi guys," Ellie said, climbing into the truck. They both responded the same, in turn.

At first they joked and had some fun conversation, but as they got closer to the cemetery, it faded into silence as they all became lost in their own individual thoughts.

Scotlyn was a lot more afraid than she was admitting. It was fine to hear about someone else seeing a ghost and even to be researching someone she would never personally see, but to instigate a visit from a spirit in a graveyard just sent chills up her spine and made her want to run.

Tyler had an open mind. He thought it would be interesting to understand more about what is beyond that which he knew. There was a little uncertainty about whether it would be scary once he was actually seeing a ghost before him, but he was pretty good at not letting that uncertainty get the better of him. His biggest fear was that it wouldn't work. He wasn't sure what that would mean for Ellie, who had become quite invested in finding Arelyth and fulfilling her request. He didn't know what to make of any of that either, but he did know there was a reality in the way it affected Ellie.

Ellie was not afraid of calling Arelyth. She was afraid of Arelyth not appearing again to speak with her. The first reason was that even though her friends were being great and gracious, she knew it was a strange territory and she wanted them to see with their own eyes that she wasn't making it up. Secondly, if she couldn't talk to Arelyth, she didn't know how she was going to save her and it was becoming more apparent with each passing day that not saving Arelyth carried with it a set of consequences for Ellie, though she did not fully understand what or why or to what extent.

Tyler parked at the bridge, as planned. It was a small bridge overlooking a scenic river and a nature preserve. There was a modest dirt parking area that was rarely patrolled. It was less than a quarter of a mile from the cemetery, so it made the perfect place to leave the truck.

The three of them started walking up the dark street toward the church. It was a very country-like area and like many streets outside of the center of town, this one had no street lights. There were very few homes around, which was to their benefit in this particular instance. It was just the warm air, the dark, the sounds of crickets and their own footsteps.

"Somebody say something," Scotlyn said, beginning to get creeped out.

Tyler put an arm around his sister and squeezed her to him. "There is nothing to be afraid of. This is no ordinary, scary ghost. This is Ellie's ghost," Tyler said, trying to keep things light. "You are going to be fine. Do you think I'd let a ghost hurt you?"

"No, but so much about it is unknown. Would you even know how to stop one if it tried to hurt me?" Scotlyn raised a good point.

Ellie stopped walking, guilty that her best friend was doing something that clearly scared her a lot. Tyler and Scotlyn stopped a few steps after her and turned to see what was up.

"I'm sorry, Scot. This isn't something you have to do. You are an amazing friend for always helping me, even with something as insane as all of this, but I don't want you to be terrified," Ellie said, apologetically. "You don't have to do this. I won't think you bailed on me or anything like that. If you want to stay at the truck, I understand."

"No, it's OK, El. I'm scared, but I'm doing this with you, whether Ty can beat up a ghost or not. Just bear with me. I'm trying not to be spooked, but I am." Scotlyn said, sincerely.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"C'mon you two. It's nearly 11:20pm. Just think of it as four friends on a midnight picnic," Tyler said.

"Four?" Scotlyn questioned. A second later she realized what he meant and hit him in the arm. "Ty! Don't do that!"

"Remember all those scary movies we used to watch when we had sleepovers at your house, Scot? Those were always your idea; you loved them. I remember being absolutely terrified by the end of every one of them," Ellie recollected.

"Yeah, but that was our imagination. This is the prospect of actually coming face to face with something."

"Just be thankful I'm being nice," Tyler said, a devious tone to his voice. "You know how much I love scaring you two and tonight...well...there isn't any better set up than this. It's taking every bit of self restraint I have not to milk this for all it's worth."

"Don't you dare!" Scotlyn threatened. "Not tonight. Don't even think about it!"

They had reached the entrance of Well-Sweep Cemetery. Ellie took a deep breath and stepped out in front of the group, walking to the big oak where Arelyth's stone was and where she first appeared to Ellie.

"Hey there, ranger," Tyler said, as she took the lead. "Remember you're not alone in this."

"I know," Ellie said, her smile a whisper.

Despite her response, Ellie did feel alone. She knew her friends were there for her in every way they could be, but she couldn't help feeling that ultimately this was something that was with her and no one else. They had a choice and Ellie was beginning to feel as if she didn't.

They crept as quietly as they could through the blackened grounds. Finally, they reached the large oak tree. Ellie kneeled before the grave marker and opened the bag she had brought. Scotlyn and Tyler took their cue from Ellie. They began setting up the area as Mira had described.

Scotlyn placed a white candle on the ground and lit it. Ellie started the incense burning. There were only a few items and instructions, but one by one they followed them. When they were ready, with sincere intentions, Ellie called Arelyth's name. They waited. And waited.

After a few minutes, Ellie spoke again to Arelyth. They were silent as they awaited her arrival. Tyler and Scotlyn had no idea what to expect, but Ellie knew that it didn't feel the same as the first time it happened. Nothing was changing around her and she felt nothing changing within her. If she was completely honest with herself, she felt nothing, period. Even earlier in the day, she felt hopeful, but as she sat now, she knew that she had been leaning on that hope, as if it was the only chance she had to find Arelyth again. Ellie realized it hadn't been hope, but desperation. She knew nothing was going to happen tonight.

Ellie cupped her face in her hands, inhaling and exhaling long and deep. Tyler put his hand on her shoulder. "You OK, El?" he asked, with quiet concern.

She immediately dropped her hands, blew out the candle and stood up. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," she said, just above a whisper, her tone short.

"Don't give up, El. Mira said it might take some time. It's only been about twenty minutes," Scotlyn said.

"It's not going to happen. Just trust me. I'm so sorry you guys came out here in the middle of the night. I feel horrible about that," Ellie said, the words racing from her. She brushed the grass from her knees and straightened her dress quickly. "She isn't coming tonight, I just know."

Ellie turned, wanting to run out of the cemetery, out of this whole nightmare. "Please, can we just leave?" Ellie whispered, a slight quiver in her voice.

Tyler stood up and walked toward Ellie, but she took a step away, falsely assuring him that she was fine. Scotlyn was picking up the items on the ground. Tyler waited for her while Ellie slowly began walking through the cemetery. Scotlyn and Tyler were close enough behind that they quickly caught up and the three of them left the grounds, no one saying a word.

When they got back to the truck, Tyler walked up to the driver's side door and Scotlyn and Ellie headed toward the passenger side, but Ellie stopped at the front of the truck. She stood there, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes down. Scotlyn stopped and turned and Tyler took a step toward Ellie.

"El? El, what is it?" Tyler asked, more than a little concerned.

Ellie brought her eyes up, looking first at Scotlyn and then over to Tyler. "I am so, so sorry," she said, softly and slowly, almost in tears.

The emotion seemed to come out of nowhere once they reached the truck. The walk from the cemetery gave Ellie just enough time to go over all of the things she had been experiencing since she saw Arelyth. At first, it was too subtle to be cause for concern, but then it grew, daily— hourly. During that time, she had options: the archives, library, even a reappearance. After those searches all came up fruitless, she found Mira. She had clung to this evening's attempt, because she saw no other avenues beyond it. When she finally left the graveyard, the reality of the failure finally hit. The uneasiness inside her was greater than in the days past and she, and she alone, was caught up in something she did not understand at all. Even her run-ins with Gretchen and her slashed tires began to weigh in. Fright took her over and she was just tired enough and confused enough that she couldn't fight it or hide it like she usually did with her emotions. She just wanted to run away. She knew she couldn't without embarrassing herself further, but she just wanted to run. She was frozen in option-less overwhelment.

Neither of her friends had ever seen her like this. In no time, Tyler was in front of her, pulling her to him. Ellie shyed away from his arms, not wanting to break down in front of them. She couldn't speak. She wanted to go home, to go hide, to sleep and pray that upon waking it would all have been a bad dream, but she couldn't steady her voice enough to even say, 'let's go home.' She turned her head, trapped in the moment.

Tyler stepped forward again, taking her shoulders and leading her to the truck. He didn't say a word, but as he guided her to the door of his truck, he rubbed her shoulder compassionately with his thumb, making her think that maybe he understood. She wanted that, maybe even more than she wanted it to all be over; she wanted someone to understand.

She climbed into the truck and slid past the steering wheel. Scotlyn slid in from the other side and Tyler got behind the wheel and headed to Ellie's place to get her home. No one spoke and Ellie just fought the whole drive back to not fall apart and to not fall asleep.

When they got to Ellie's, Scotlyn got out of the truck to let her friend slide out. She wanted to hug her, to let her know that everything was going to be all right and that she didn't need to feel ashamed. Scotlyn didn't though. She knew Ellie. As much as she wanted to be there for her, Ellie wasn't going to allow her to be, at that moment.

Tyler got out of the truck and gestured to Scotlyn to wait there. He walked toward Ellie and despite her non-verbally letting him know he didn't need to, he continued determinedly to the door with her. She walked in and he followed right behind her, closing the door. Ellie turned toward him, not knowing what he was going to do. He stood there silent for a moment, one hand on his waist and one hand running through his hair as he gazed down at the floor, while gathering his thoughts. He dropped his arms and looked up at her. His voice was more direct than she was used to.

"Look, El, I get that you're going through something that we can't claim to fully understand. I don't know everything you're feeling, but the only time people are ashamed is when they are looking at themselves through someone else's eyes...or rather, the way they _think_ someone else is viewing them. El, I don't deserve that."

Hearing Tyler speaking to her like this was the last straw and her eyes welled up with tears. She wasn't able to hold them back any longer.

"I...Scot and I care about you and are here for you; we always have been. Do you think that just because I see you scared or crying that I am really going to think less of you?"

Tyler took a hard step forward, grabbing her shoulders firmly.

"El, you're crying right now. You are crying and where am I, El? Where am I?" He loosened his grip in empathy. "I'm right here." Tyler continued in a softer tone, "I'm still here, El."

Tyler dropped his head and exhaled before looking back up at her, his tone becoming more direct again.

"So you are hurt or you're scared or you're crying. Who the hell gave you the idea that that makes you less of person or a burden to your friends? Don't lay those thoughts in my mind, El. In case you haven't noticed, we don't mind going the extra mile for you. I don't doubt for a minute that you would do the same for us, so why the hell do you push us away every time we try to do it for you?

"We're not ashamed, El. And we're not going anywhere. So whatever fear you have invested in all of that, put it to rest."

Tyler's hands still on her shoulders, Ellie stood there with her arms at her sides, trembling beneath his fingers. Silent tears streamed endlessly down her face. Tyler's expression still looked tired and angry, or maybe it was let down and betrayed. It ultimately didn't stop Tyler from being Tyler. He pulled Ellie to him, pressing one arm across her back while, with the other, he held her head tightly to his chest. She let herself fall, not that she could really help it. She didn't want to fight it anymore; she didn't _want_ to be afraid to feel.

She sobbed into his chest and he held her tighter. She felt like she would collapse from exhaustion and he held her tighter still, but he didn't say a word. For several minutes, she was lost in a fear and exhaustion she had never known before. As she eventually began to catch her breath, he loosened his arms and placed his hands on her shoulders again, gently pushing her back a foot, as if returning her to her original place. He stared down at the floor again and swallowed hard. Without looking at her, he nodded a couple of times and let his arms fall from her shoulders and back to his sides. Tyler turned and walked to the front door, looking back once more, as if to check on her, before exiting the cottage.

What had she done? It was one of her biggest fears, that she would alienate the people who cared most about her, because of her inability to share her emotion like a normal human being. Often she just didn't understand. What right did she have to assume he was her friend? Even if he was, how did that make it acceptable for her to be weak or cause them stress. She truly didn't want to make her problems anyone else's and she had always thought that was noble. But maybe there was more. Maybe she really didn't feel like she was enough. Perhaps she feared that she was only worth so much effort and she never wanted to find out where that line was. Contrarily, Ellie could also see how much she might miss out on if she didn't trust what Tyler had said. It wasn't always easy handling everything on her own, suffering in silence. If he was right— even on the chance of it— she would gladly risk it not to lose them.

Suddenly, the fear of losing Tyler or Scotlyn was greater than any doomsday tale from any ghost. Just as she was ready to run outside in hopes of catching his truck, in hopes of apologizing, of crying as openly as she needed to to prove to them that they were more important to her than her fears...a text came in on her phone. It was Tyler.

I'm still here, El.

# DREAMS

~ 16 ~

Ellie slid the thin straps off her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor. It was such a warm night and she was so exhausted, she didn't even bother to put anything else on. She fell onto the bed and within a minute she was sound asleep.

Tyler and Scotlyn were still driving. They hadn't said much after dropping off Ellie. Eventually, Tyler broke the silence, though in a drained and almost monotone voice. "Well, the bright side is at least you didn't get scared to death by seeing a ghost."

"Yeah, now I almost wish that I had," Scotlyn replied, after an attempt at chuckling. "I didn't know what to make of this when Ellie first told me about it, but I have to admit, I didn't think it was that serious. I mean, who ever heard of a ghost appearing from the dead and telling someone to save it from never having lived. I wasn't humoring her or anything; I really was trying to help, but I don't think it ever fully registered as something serious...or something that could affect Ellie in the real world."

"I know. I think I did the same," Tyler empathized.

"The thing is, I am beginning to think there is a lot more to this than Ellie has told us. What she saw on Saturday alone wouldn't be enough to scare her to this degree. I've literally never seen someone so petrified in my life," Scotlyn said.

"I know that, too. She has to talk to us though. How can we help her if she keeps hiding it all away? I really think she feels like she threatened our friendship just because we were dragged out at midnight for a fruitless attempt at something weird. I just don't get how something so absurd could even cross her mind."

"She's always been like that," Scotlyn explained. "It's odd too, because usually you expect there to be a backstory, like something tragic happened or someone left her, but she has had a storybook childhood and everybody loves her. Yet, it's still a real fear for her. When something makes her feel bad or worried or sad, she retreats and deals with it herself."

"That can't feel good," Tyler said.

"Just don't be mad at her, all right?"

"I'm not mad at her, Scot." Tyler stopped himself from elaborating. "I'm not mad."

He dropped off Scotlyn at the house that Trent and her shared. "Does Trent know about any of this?"

"Not yet. Why?"

"Just wondering. Sometimes I think maybe those two should chat for a while. I just have a feeling it might do some good," Tyler answered.

Scotlyn nodded, closed the door of the truck and went inside quietly, as Trent was already asleep. She put down her things and put the bag of conjuring paraphernalia in a closet to save herself a very weird conversation, at least until she brought Trent up to speed.

She was worried about Ellie, so she tried texting her. Ellie's phone chimed. It didn't wake her. She was too deeply asleep, steeped in a dream:

He was after her. He was relentless. Ellie ran as fast as she could, shielding her face from the branches that sped towards her. The forest ground suddenly took a sharp incline, slowing her down, allowing him to get closer. She had no choice but to hide. Ellie jumped over a fallen tree and laid up against the back of it, piling branches and leaves over herself as quickly as she could.

His footsteps came nearer...louder...heavy enough that she could feel their vibration through the earth. Then they fell silent for an instant, that silence then broken as his massive boot hit the tree trunk with a powerful thud, rolling the tree into Ellie's back and causing intense pain. She was frozen and he knew where she was. She heard his breathing, felt his presence. He was just above the leaves that covered her. She fought with everything she had against the paralysis and just before he reached in and grabbed her throat, she felt her leg come free and kick him harder than she knew she could. He stumbled backwards, but in the process he stepped on her ankle and broke it— shattered it. Ellie screamed her cries, but they made no sound and she had no time to cry anyway. She had to escape, run, before he made a second attempt at her.

She leapt forward, narrowly dodging his grasp and ran in absolute agony, limping at full speed. She knew he was behind her, but she could no longer cause her head to turn, so she could not see his exact position.

Ellie came up over a hill. The woods were gone and the man pursuing her, as well. She was in a wide open field, knowing she should keep walking, but she stood still. There was something amiss and it showed itself in the form of a man with a rifle, and another, and another. They continued appearing, one after the other. Their fire would start soon, but Ellie was still standing motionless, unable to run until the first of them actually fired.

A shower of lead came straight for her and she ran, somehow escaping un-hit. She looked down the other side of the hill to a city below. It seemed made of sand and clay. She turned to her immediate right instead and was inside a house.

It was pitch black inside and she fumbled around until she found a light switch. It was dim, but she could see. It was dingy and the rooms were small. The items and furniture made for a functional dwelling, but it was on the messy side.

There was a stage in the living room and Ellie walked closer to it. The couch was only six feet long, but meant to hold several thousand people. Ellie could see the lights from the marquee outside reflecting in the window. The lights inside were growing ever dimmer. She struggled to see where the stairs to the stage were. She was supposed to dance and it was almost showtime. As the light continued to fade, she stumbled upon the steps. As she raised her foot to the first step, she saw her ankle was shattered and fragmented. But she had been running on it and walking. She reasoned that it must be able to hold her anyway, so she placed it on the first step, but the second was much shallower, only able to accommodate her toes. The third was barely a ledge and she could not get a footing. The top of the stage was still just as far as it had been.

The light was nearly out and she could barely see anything at all. She turned around and saw the big oak tree. Ellie hobbled to it, her shattered ankle spreading up her leg. Scotlyn was across the street and Ellie called out to her. When Scotlyn answered, she was directly in front of Ellie, not two feet away.

"Did you find her?" Ellie asked in desperation.

"I can't find her," Scotlyn answered.

"What about Ty? Where is Ty?" Ellie begged.

"He is on the hill, looking for you," Scotlyn replied, taking Ellie's hand. Ellie's hand immediately became sweaty and it increased until Scotlyn could no longer keep a grip. Ellie tried to dry off her hand, but it wasn't doing any good.

"Scot, there is gunfire up there. He can't be there. He'll get shot!" Ellie screamed.

"Don't worry, he won't find you," Scotlyn said, carving something into the oak tree.

"Scot, we have to get him. Can you call him on your phone? What time does he go to work? Maybe he is there?"

Scotlyn walked away. Ellie looked at the tree where she had been carving. There was nothing there. It said nothing. When Ellie looked up, Scotlyn was across the street again.

"Scot, don't go, please! Who is going to teach Bryar?" Ellie shouted.

Ellie ran back toward the hill, so she wouldn't get wet from the rain that would be starting soon. When she reached the top, she ducked down and crawled quietly, knowing the gunmen were just over the crest. She felt drops from the sky and grabbed a towel from the night stand. Tyler was standing there in her room. He had been shot in the ribs and was bleeding.

Ellie ran out of her bedroom to get some bandages, but she didn't have any. She ran out the front door and got into his truck, which was still running, fortunately. Ellie drove to the store, speeding at first but losing power in the truck the further she drove. She realized she had gone too far. She was in the next state. It would be too late if she didn't hurry. Ellie started to turn the truck around to go back, but it started to slide off the road. She couldn't control it and she had no traction. It spun around heading directly for the cliff at the edge of the road. The tires hit the edge and remained topside only for a moment before dipping down into the abyss. Ellie jumped from the truck onto the road, but she began to slip too. She fell to her knees and then down onto her stomach. She was only feet from the edge.

John walked across the road toward her, eating a sandwich.

"John!" Ellie screamed, at the top of her lungs. "John, help me! I'm slipping. I can't hold on!"

John agreed, but he just stood there, continuing to eat his chicken leg.

"John, please!" Ellie pleaded.

"I'm going to find a rope," he said, as he walked back to the other side of the street. There, he continued to eat his cereal. When he finished, he walked back to Ellie, who was still sliding toward the edge.

Ellie pleaded with John to save her, crying and sweating, her hands bloody from attempting to grip the road.

"I'm going to El. I want to," John said, looking down at her.

Ellie slipped further off the ledge, her legs dangling in the air. She watched as he stood there wanting to help her. Ellie dug her hands into the pavement as hard as she could, but her fingers just slipped off and she fell over the edge.

Ellie woke up screaming. It was 2am. She reached for her phone and called Scotlyn.

Scotlyn was asleep. She tossed and turned, lost in a dream of her own:

Scotlyn was at church. It was a beautiful day and outside people were arriving. The pews were adorned with bows of toile and white candles covered the alter.

Ellie walked in and looked around. She adjusted her dress and continued up the aisle. "How do I look, Scot? I wasn't sure how to dress. Is all of this for Arelyth or Trent?"

"I don't know," Scotlyn answered, confused all of a sudden. "Trent got promoted, so it must be for him. I'm so proud of him."

"I thought _you_ got promoted, Scot?"

"I did. We both did. We're going to have a party to celebrate," Scotlyn announced.

People began filing in and sitting at desks, typing. Just then Scotlyn's mother walked in the church.

"Scotlyn, honey, it's so loud in here. Can't your guests work someplace else. I won't be able to hear what you have to say to Trent. You want me to like him, don't you?" Scotlyn's mother asked. "Your father is just parking the car at the dock. We're going to take a quick cruise before the party."

"Mom, but it's starting soon. He's worked so hard. I want you to be here. I want him to see how wonderful you and Dad are and I want him to feel like he is really part of a loving family. I want him to know people are proud of him. Please stay," Scotlyn pleaded.

"All right, honey. We'll just get a hot dog and be right back," her mother said.

Scotlyn was relieved and happy. She went to her desk to finish her article on time. There was just one more page to add. She sat there typing furiously until upon looking at the clock above the alter, she saw that several hours had passed. Hoping the guests had not left, she ran to the window, but they were all still there. The church had grown darker and the candles were almost burned out. Just then, Trent walked in with a white bag.

"Hey, I brought more candles!" Trent announced.

Scotlyn ran up to him and hugged him. "You saved the day! And look," she said, dragging him by the arm to her vintage typewriter, "I finally wrote a story. Not just an article but a full book, a story. Look, it's seven thousand twenty pages. I just finished," she said, proudly.

She looked at Trent and noticed his strange attire.

"Why are you wearing two ties?" she asked.

"The one you bought me and the other one," he said.

"I have to get ready. I have to find my dress. The people have been here for hours, so we are going to have to start letting them in really soon. My parents should be right back, as well. They just took a quick cruise to get a hot dog," Scotlyn rambled.

Scotlyn walked up to the side of the alter and began looking through the alter boy robes. She lifted one and there was Ellie.

"Ellie, good. I need you to be my best friend for the party. Will you be my best friend?" Scotlyn asked.

"I'm not dressed well enough. I just have this ripped dress on and I was about to change into jeans," Ellie said, sadly.

"It's OK. You don't have to dress up," Scotlyn assured.

"But my boots are all muddy and this t-shirt is stained with paint," Ellie insisted.

"Please, El, I don't care. I just need you to be my best friend. You can wear anything you like."

"But I will be laughed at and I don't want to ruin your party. I can't find my shoes. Do you have something I could wear?"

"Yeah, you can wear my dress," Scotlyn said, pulling one of the alter boy robes down. "Here, I have another." She handed the robe to Ellie. Once Ellie took it, it was on her, yellow and sparkling. She looked like a princess. Scotlyn was wearing a new dress as well, pink and sparkling and just like Ellie's.

"You look beautiful, El. Now can you be my best friend?" Scotlyn asked, with a smile.

Ellie wasn't there. Scotlyn rifled through the robes again, trying to find her. She called out to Trent, but there was no answer. She ran to the window and looked out to find all the people had left. Scotlyn couldn't wait for her parents to return from their cruise so she could tell them what happened. The problem was, they would want to take her home. She loved home, but she wanted the party, too. The new candles Trent brought were almost burned out. Scotlyn saw Ellie's dress on the floor and the church went dark.

Scotlyn awoke and sat up abruptly, waking Trent up in the process. She was in a cold sweat. He immediately sat up and turned to her to see what was wrong.

"Scot, are you all right?" His arms hovered about her gently, until he felt he could hold her without startling her further.

She caught her breath and said, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Bad dream. I have to call El." But she realized her phone was already vibrating on the night stand. It was Ellie.

"El?!"

"Scot?!"

"I just had the worst dream," they said, almost in unison.

"Scot, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to push people away, especially you and Ty. You guys are amazing to stand with me in this insane situation. I just felt so bad dragging you through it for like a week now and I already feel crazy," Ellie apologized.

"El, I don't care how insane it is. You're my best friend. The more you need me, the more I'll be there. Just let me be; trust me," Scotlyn implored.

"I know. I will try more, I promise. I have to call Ty now, too. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yes. 'Night, El."

Ellie hung up the phone and then called Tyler.

Tyler had already had a couple nights without enough sleep, so when he got home after dropping off Ellie and Scotlyn, he more or less passed out on the bed and had not moved since. Within, he also was tormented by a dream:

"He's hurting her. Badly," Scotlyn said to Tyler. "I have to finish my article, but I'll meet up with you after."

She didn't even have to say anything. He knew who. Tyler ran outside his house to his truck. It was parked in the middle of the construction site. He had no idea how it had gotten there. He jumped in and revved the engine. There was no easy way out. Tyler put the truck in drive and headed for the concrete highway divider. He angled the truck slightly and hit it with one of the wheels, which took the front end up it. He somehow maneuvered the rest of the vehicle over it.

Tyler sped up over the stretch of flat concrete, slowing as it took a sharp dip. He travelled down the steep decline and then took a sharp right to avoid a house. The truck bounced and jerked over boulders and jack hammers that someone had not put away. He finally reached a new extension that he didn't know they had added. It was sixteen levels, but only part of the floor had been finished on each level, making for a concrete stairway. There were no vertical supports and the slabs seemed to be floating there, though solid as could be.

Tyler used to jump his bike over anything and everything and knew he could do the same with his truck. In like fashion, he began pulling wheelies, which not only got the front end up, but also pulled the rest of the vehicle up with it. He continued this until he was over two hundred feet in the air. Once at the top, he could see no way off and he couldn't remember why he'd gone this way.

Time was running out. He needed to get to her and every second counted. He decided to drive it off the edge in hopes that there was a road being built just a couple stories down. Tyler hit the gas hard, leaving skid marks on the slab, and drove off the edge into the air. Within seconds he could feel the tires hit the pavement and he sped down the road at a hundred fifty miles per hour. As he got closer, he saw a red light and screeched to a stop. He proceeded at green, only to hit another red light twenty feet later. Then another and another. The stop and go momentum was maddening and he finally could not let these lights keep him from what might be his only chance to save her. He floored it, flying through light after light, not a single car in sight until he got to her apartment.

There, outside, was John's car, so he knew he was still inside. There was still time. Tyler ran to the door, only to find it locked. He pounded on it with his fist, then both fists.

"Ellie!" he shouted, at the top of his lungs. "Ellie, let me in!"

He ran to the back of the house, but could not get in there either. Tyler rushed to a window, breaking it with one of the plethora of lawn ornaments. He climbed in, cutting his arms and stomach on the broken shards of glass still lodged in the window frame. Blood dripped to the floor.

He stormed from room to room, looking for her, but could not find them. He heard their voices, but could not see where they were.

"Ellie! Ellie, please! Tell me where you are! John, if you touch her, I'll kill you!" Tyler yelled.

She didn't answer. He continued from room to room. Though her cottage only had four rooms, each time he entered a new room it was different than the last time he was in it.

His phone rang. It was instantly in his hand. It was Scotlyn, so he answered immediately.

"Scot, what is it? Are you all right?" Tyler asked. There was no answer on the other end. "Scot! Hello? Scotlyn, answer me!" Tyler exclaimed, loudly, so he would be heard over all of the noise that suddenly filled Ellie's cottage.

"Hello?" Trent said, calmly.

"Trent? Where is Scot? She didn't answer me. Why are you on her phone?" Tyler questioned, forcefully.

"She's here. We just had an argument," Trent said, slurring his words and sounding as if he were nearly asleep.

"Trent, tell me you are not on anything right now. We were past that!" Tyler demanded. There was no answer. "Trent? Trent!!"

"Hi, Ty," Scotlyn said, in a tone he had never heard from her before.

"Scot! Scot, are you all right? Tell me he isn't using again! I will come there and take you away from him, Scot!" Tyler shouted.

"He's not. He's working really hard. Promise me you will give him a chance. Please, Ty," Scotlyn cried.

Tyler heard a scream from the other room. His cell phone fell out of his hand and dropped in between the floor boards which were cracking and buckling beneath his feet. He climbed and maneuvered through the room as it came to life around him. The screams got louder and more dire.

"Ellie!" Tyler screamed, at the top of his lungs, as he scaled a plank of flooring that was angled nearly all the way to the upper part of the door frame. Blood was pouring from his cuts and his hands were bruised and torn up. As he dove over the edge of the plank, he landed hard on the wood floor of the hallway.

Tyler stood up to find himself in an open field for as far as the eye could see. Panic gripped his chest followed by an overwhelming urgency to get back to the cottage. As her screams echoed and faded in the vastness, Tyler threw his head back and his fisted arms down and shouted, "Elllllllllieeeeee!!"

Tyler woke up severely. His eyes darted around the room and then at his hands. He exhaled sharply and held his head. That's when he heard his phone ringing.

"El."

"Hi. I'm sorry to call so late. I had a horrible dream and I woke up needing to tell you and Scot how sorry I am. I didn't mean to...I am not sure how...I just, I try..." Ellie fumbled for the words.

"I know, El. I know. We'll figure it out. I just need you to trust me and to know I'm here for you. Have I ever not been?"

Ellie answered, softly, "No. I'm sorry, Ty."

"It's all right. It's all going to be all right. Someway, somehow, we will figure this all out. The ghost...you know," he said. Under his breath, he added, "Everything." That part wasn't inaudible to Ellie.

"OK. Thanks," Ellie said, at nearly a whisper.

"Are you OK right now? The dream?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah. I still have the awful feeling of it lingering, but I'm OK. I kind of wish Bry was still right next door. I know that sounds silly," Ellie confessed.

"It doesn't. It doesn't sound silly at all. Just because we become adults doesn't mean that suddenly nothing phases us," Tyler said, understandingly.

"'Night, Ty."

"Goodnight, El."

Tyler put his phone back on the night stand. He stood up and paced around the room for a moment, trying to get things straight in his head and shake the horrible feeling of the dream he'd just had. It was still very muggy and his t-shirt was soaked, though he was relived that it was not with blood. He pulled the shirt up over his head and tossed it into the hamper.

He sat on the edge of the bed. Come morning, Scotlyn and Ellie would be heading back into the archives and Tyler had agreed to help them after work, if he got done early enough. Another random, fruitless search was not going to cut it, though. He wanted something concrete. He wanted to have a plan or, at the very least, an idea. He leaned over, his knees supporting his elbows, his hands on his head.

For the next half hour, he thought. He let his mind scavenge through every possible option for acquiring the information they sought. Tyler remained stead-fast in his focus until he could not keep his eyes open any longer. He laid back on the bed and let himself fall asleep.

He had something he wanted to check out the next day.

# REVELATION

~ 17 ~

"Good morning, hon."

Scotlyn carried a breakfast tray to the bed where Trent lay. She had gotten up early and made his favorites: scrambled eggs with cayenne pepper, southern home fries topped with sour cream, bacon, toast with strawberry preserves and coffee, black.

He rubbed his eyes and gave a crooked smile as he propped himself up against the headboard. "You made me breakfast in bed?"

"Of course I did. It's your first day of your internship. I am beyond proud of you!" She placed the tray over his legs.

He leaned forward and kissed her. "I love you, babe." She was beaming. "This looks delicious," he added.

Trent was now 27. He had just finished his fourth year of college and had competed for a prestigious internship that would last through the summer. In the fall he would be returning to college to continue his education, ultimately working toward a masters in psychology. To pay for college, Trent worked full time managing a surf shop. The store handled mainly board sports, like surfing, paddle boarding, and snow boarding but dabbled in other gear as well. Trent looked like a surfer with his spiky, dirty-blonde hair, nice tan and thin, cut physique. The irony was he had never surfed in his life. It was something he said he was going to change one day.

In the little time he had between school and work, he managed to volunteer from time to time in programs that would educate kids on the dangers of drugs. Having been down that dark road, he decided that if he could keep even one kid from experiencing the hell that drugs caused in his own life, that it would be worth it.

Trent had come a long way. He had been clean and sober for almost five years, starting roughly the time he met Scotlyn. He had one setback after a few weeks of being clean, but never again. Once he cleared that hurdle, he kept going forward and never looked back. It took him a year to gather the means to start college and during the summers he would usually double up on jobs to get ahead before the next year of schooling. It didn't leave a lot of time to see Scotlyn, but she supported his journey fully. She was also in college during most of that time, so time apart was a mutually understood sacrifice. They saw each other as often as could be managed. When Scotlyn graduated from college, she was finally able to move in with Trent. That was four weeks ago and it was a dream come true for both of them.

"Are you nervous?"

"Nah," Trent said. "I've worked too hard for this to be anything but confident. This is what I want and I'll find a way to do it well. Who knows, if it goes well, maybe they'll offer me a position there in the fall?"

"That would be amazing!" Scotlyn exclaimed.

Trent moved the tray and got out of bed to find some appropriate clothes for his first day.

"I know. It's kind of what I'm hoping for at this point. It's a great place. They have a much more open approach than most I've interviewed with. They aren't stuck in the fucking dark ages."

"You still have to wear a monkey suit?" Scotlyn teased.

"Yeah. No getting around that one, unfortunately. Not yet, anyway."

"It's OK, just think— one day that monkey suit will give way to a white beard and a Mister Rogers sweater. Oh, and some loafers," Scotlyn mocked.

"And you'll be all alone, crocheting toilet paper cozies and chatting it up with Siri," Trent retaliated.

She gasped, feigning disbelief. "You would leave me for making fun of your old man sweater?"

He swept her off the bed, his arms around her waist, holding her off the ground and tightly against his bare chest as he spun her around once. His eyes peering sharply into hers, with a sexy gruffness he whispered, "I wouldn't leave you for anything in the world, babe." He kissed her with passionate conviction. Their lips still locked, Trent slowly lowered her to the ground, lovingly touching the side of her face before heading into the bathroom to shower.

Scotlyn smiled, warm with content. She changed for work. She wasn't supposed to go in today, but she had volunteered so Ellie could have access to the basement archives again. She put on a classy black skirt, a pale blue silken shirt and a black suit jacket that tapered down until it reached her waist. The sleeves were 3/4 length and it was young and fresh while still looking professional. She usually wore her long hair straight, but today she curled it loosely, giving her red and golden locks a voluminous look that waved over one eye, before continuing almost to the small of her back. A single flower adorning a barrette, summed up her youthfulness and pure nature, while punctuating her beauty. She stepped into a sandal with a slight heel to it, put on some lip gloss and walked into the kitchen of their apartment. She had made lunches for both of them the night before and as she got them out of the refrigerator, Trent called out, "Scot, have you seen my tie?"

"Your tie? Like a _specific_ one?"

She walked to the bedroom where he was. Trent took a cigarette from the pack of Camels on his night stand and lit it.

"Like the specific one you gave me the night we found out I got the internship, so I would...wait, how did you put it...'Have something more appropriate to wear than ripped jeans or surfer shorts.' _That_ tie," he said, smiling his crooked smile.

She looked through the closet and in a couple drawers and finally came across it. She brought it over to him holding it out and staring at him blankly to make a point. "I don't know how to tie one of these," she confessed.

He laughed under his breath, finding her endearing and took the tie. He moved the cigarette to his mouth and manipulated the tie with both hands, transforming himself into a ruggedly professional-looking man. Scotlyn stood in awe.

"I thought you weren't a suit and tie fan," he said, raising one eyebrow.

"I'm not, but I'm fairly certain that you, Dr. Evans, would look good in anything."

He laughed. "Not a doctor, yet."

"Hey, I made lunches for us," Scotlyn said, on her way out of the bedroom. "I have to get to work."

Trent followed her out, grabbing his keys and the lunch she made for him. They walked outside and he locked the door. She turned to him, proudly. "Good luck today!"

"Thank you."

She headed to her car.

"Wait up," he yelled. He jogged the few yards over to her. He leaned over and kissed her. "You look beautiful."

Scotlyn was happy. She was truly happy. She got into her car and pulled out of the driveway, as he waited in his truck for her to go first. They both headed off to work. About a mile down the road, Scotlyn said, "Hey, Siri. Call Ellie."

Ellie had woken up with a headache, but she got up to go to work anyway. She had just gotten her apartment and she didn't want to lose it in record time. Her boss had given her a week and a half off for her move and today was her first day back.

Ellie's job was as a teacher at a local dance studio, but when she hurt her ankle, the owner had let Ellie begin working the desk as well, so she could keep an income. Ellie hated desk work. Teaching wasn't her dream either, but at least she got to dance and to instill that love of dance in the girls she taught. She enjoyed watching them improve and seeing their self-confidence rising. Ellie could easily joke and play with them as if she were twelve herself, but she could also switch back instantly and become a respected role model. Because of her great dynamic, the girls in her classes thrived. They were the highest-scoring competition team in the whole studio. She did take a certain pride in that and it was important to her to be a positive influence. But she knew that teaching was just an intermediary step, a means to get by until she could live her dream full time.

She threw on the appropriate attire for instructing and grabbed an apple on her way out the door. As she drove the ten miles to the dance studio, her head was pounding. It wasn't unbearable, yet she could barely form a thought without the vivid imagery of that past Saturday at the cemetery flooding her mind's eye. The uneasiness in her stomach persisted and she felt a little off. She was almost singularly driven to find Arelyth, whether in history or in person again. It didn't feel like she had any choice and that was continuing to worry her.

Ellie decided to stop at the cemetery on her way to work to look around in the daylight. Maybe she had missed something on the stone, so it couldn't hurt to take another look. The bright rays of the morning sun flooded the graveyard, making it difficult to be afraid. Then again, the first time she had seen Arelyth was in the daylight, or the last thereof. She put it out of her mind and purposefully marched to the back half of the property near the old oak. She squatted before the marker, viewing it exactly as she remembered it. Ellie ran her hand over the letters, across the top, along every section of the stone. Aside from normal wear due to its age, there was nothing unusual and no words she had missed. And no Arelyth.

Ellie looked around to make sure no one else was there before whispering her name, "Arelyth? Are you here? Please, I need more info." Beginning to feel foolish, she stood up to leave. It didn't feel real. She was standing here before the only physical piece of this whole puzzle and it didn't feel real. The images in her mind, the queasiness, the name and even the woman's words all felt very real to Ellie, but standing in the grass before the headstone just felt like standing in the grass before a headstone. It was almost a comfort to feel like everything was normal for a moment... like ghosts don't appear above their headstones and tell young women to save their lives.

As Ellie got back into the car, she saw Scotlyn's name on her ringing phone. "Hey, Scot."

"Hey. What time are you coming by the archives?"

"I have to work until two and then I am going directly there," Ellie answered.

"Awesome, I am working until three, so I can head down and join you after that."

"They are OK with me being down there on my own for an hour before you join me?"

"Probably not, so let's hope it goes OK."

"You're crazy, but you're the best. See ya later!"

"Ciao."

Ellie drove to work and pulled into the parking lot of the dance studio. She walked in and saw her class already in progress. Confused, she peeked into the owner's office.

"Hi, Paige. What's going on with my class?"

"We had a guest choreographer agree to a request I had sent him several months ago. He is extremely in demand and today was the only slot he had available for the next couple of months. They literally called me last night. I left a message on your cell. You didn't get it?"

Ellie, on very little sleep, had such a long, late and harrowing night, that when she finally crawled into bed, she crashed pretty quickly. At Paige's mention, she did vaguely remember seeing a missed call and a voicemail, but she hadn't been able to get it at the time and afterwards forgot about it. This morning she hadn't even thought about it.

"No, I must have missed it. It's OK." Ellie was beginning to see this as a good thing. Another day off would be perfect. The only place she wanted to be right now was in the archives. "So...should I...."

"Work the desk? Yes, that would be great!" Within two seconds, Paige was hurriedly multi-tasking again.

Ellie faked a smile and dragged herself to the front desk. There wasn't anyplace less important she felt she could be at that moment. The desk was a disorganized mess with notes scribbled on bright pink sticky paper, doodles on the documents of actual importance and a screensaver of two fourteen year olds making weird faces floating around making it hard to see any of the icons on the desktop. Ellie tried to keep everything in order and even developed her own system that actually made the studio run like it was a real business. But Ellie was only at the desk a couple days a week now. The other days it was usually Chloe, a fourteen year old dance student, who liked to pretend that she could work an adult's job...except that she couldn't.

Ellie sat down, attempting to sort the loom band bracelets from the enrollment forms, when the phone rang. She cringed. Ellie was usually a very friendly and energetic person, but today she felt worn out, edgy and her headache was not helping. She picked it up, hoping it would be something simple like someone checking a class time or scheduling a make-up class.

"Hello, Paige's Ballet Barre, Ellie speaking." She always hoped Paige would hear her greeting one day, since it was in direct contrast with 'It's Chloe, what's up.' Ellie didn't dislike Chloe, she just found her to be a bit obnoxious.

"My daughter, Hannah, dances there — "

"Yes, we know Hannah."

"Yes, well she came home yesterday with gum in her hair. Now, I didn't think gum was allowed in class, so I am having a hard time understanding how my daughter comes home with gum wadded up in her hair?"

"I can't be certain. Occasionally, a child will break a rule, like sneaking gum in, but I'm sure that the moment the teacher noticed it she would have asked her to throw it in the trash," Ellie explained, in a pleasant tone.

"Well how did it get from the trash to her hair?" The woman asked.

"Ma'am I didn't mean —"

"I paid a lot of money for her to have her hair cut in the latest style so she can fit in with all her little friends and now I have to get it cut again to cover up where we had to cut the gum out. I think the studio should pay for that," the woman demanded.

"I will have to talk to —"

"And I want the name of the little girl who did this. I think I should speak to her mother. What kind of parent lets their kid put gum in another child's hair?"

"I, I don't know — "

"Is she being bullied? Because I want to know if she is being bullied." The woman continued, insistently.

"I —"

"And do you know what kind of gum it was? It was that new one that blows the big bubbles. That's the hardest kind to get out. Now, when I send my child to..."

Ellie placed the phone down on the desk to let the lady rant into the wood instead of her ear. Her head was pounding and she felt almost nauseous. More disturbing though was the feeling of urgency that seemed to hover just behind her, as if peering over her shoulder and tapping a clock. She was also feeling her patience running out. She decided she needed to leave. Still able to hear the woman complaining to the desk, Ellie walked swiftly to where Paige worked.

"Paige, I am so sorry, but I don't feel well at all. Would it be all right if I left?"

"Yes, of course. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do?" Paige asked.

"No, no, I just need to lie down. Oh and there is a woman on the phone. I had to leave her talking on her own." Paige stood up quickly to go rescue the woman from talking to herself. "Something about gum," Ellie added, as Paige whisked past her.

Ellie grabbed her things and could hear the caller's voice as Paige lifted the handset.

"...and what if it had gotten on the seats. We have a Lexus, you know. They are not cheap to—"

"Yes, hello, ma'am. Ma'am, if you could just let me—" Paige efforted to get a word in edgewise.

Ellie tried to walk out slowly to support her excuse of not feeling well. It wasn't completely a lie, which quieted Ellie's conscience a bit, but still she knew she had the ability and the desire to sprint out of there and would have if Paige was not present.

She got in her car and headed straight to E-Quill. Her hands had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. It had only been several days since Arelyth appeared, but it felt like much longer. The part that was really getting to Ellie regarded the changes she was feeling within herself. They were subtle but quickly becoming relentless and that was beginning to scare her. She closed her eyes tightly for a second and then tried to re-focus them. Instead she saw the ghostly white that flowed around Arelyth's waist and legs, the misty essence of a long skirt. Her mind's eye followed it down to the ground, peering sharply at the bottom of the skirt in an effort to see if her feet were upon the ground or within it. Just another random detail appearing so vividly that it could just as easily have been right there in front of Ellie.

Ellie slammed on her brakes, cut her wheel and went screeching around a corner, nearly flipping the Jeep, before regaining control. All she could see for a moment was the image. She broke free of it just before the road took a sharp right, past a forest of trees that would have ended her drive quickly. Her stomach was in her chest and she was in a cold sweat. Ellie tried to regain her composure before she pulled into the parking lot where Scotlyn worked. She sat there for a moment giving herself a pep-talk before parking and heading inside. "Ellie, chill. You're OK. Near miss, you're fine. Everything is going to be fine. Just go in there, find a ghost, save it from extinction and get back to reality. Great. Not a problem," Ellie said to herself, unconvinced and suddenly realizing she sucked at pep talks.

She walked inside and quietly over to Scotlyn's desk. "Hey, Scotlyn, I know I'm early." Ellie whispered, not wanting to disturb the people typing furiously on their keyboards. "Things at the dance studio got shifted around and I could not hear about gum for one second longer. Is it possible I can sneak down now?"

Scotlyn stood, taking Ellie by the arm, so she would follow her quickly. "I have no idea what you were saying about gum but yeah, yeah, come on. I'll let you down there. I can't say how long you'll be able to stay, but we'll give it a try. Just be as quiet as you can," Scotlyn warned.

"You can't get in trouble for this, can you?"

"I honestly don't know what the penalty is for letting someone do honest research without the oversight of a babysitter. I prefer not to find out, but I doubt if I couldn't talk my way out of it once," Scotlyn assured.

They got to the door to the basement and as Scotlyn opened it, she caught another glimpse of Ellie. "Do you feel well? You look a little pale."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ellie brushed it off.

Ellie headed down the stairs. Scotlyn called quietly down to her, "Let me know if you need anything. Or find anything."

"I will, thanks."

Ellie looked around at the labyrinth of rusty metal towers that supported a deteriorating past. It could easily have been the inside of a chimney for a ginormous fireplace. Even the few rays of sunlight that streamed in from the windows had to fight their way through dust and soot and time itself. She looked to the back, to see if the window was still cracked open. It was.

Ellie brought her gaze back to the area before her. She didn't know where to start, so she just headed to where she had left off last time. She kicked herself for, again, not remembering to bring a jacket.

Upstairs, Scotlyn walked back to her desk, but she couldn't concentrate on her writing. Ellie still seemed off to her and it was getting worse. She wanted to call Trent, but he didn't know about any of this yet, so she called Tyler.

"Ty, got a second?"

"Yeah, sure. Shoot," he said.

"I was just wondering if you were still going to come help in the archives today?"

"I don't know yet. It depends on how early I can get done here. You are there until, what, five? Six?"

"Yeah, I have until they close today at six," Scotlyn answered.

"I will do my best. I was looking online a couple nights ago, because I knew I might not get down there today."

"Did you find out anything?"

"Not a thing. I was thinking though, it's strange that the headstone doesn't have a name on it, or a date, for that matter. I don't mean deteriorated away. I mean just not there... _at all_. Maybe it was because I was looking at a photo on a screen the first time and it was pitch black the second time, I don't know, but I was thinking about heading over there later and taking a look at the stone for myself." Neither he nor Scotlyn were aware that Ellie had stopped there that morning.

"OK, that might be good idea," Scotlyn agreed, doing a lousy job of hiding the fact that something was on her mind.

"Do you need something? Is El there?" Tyler asked.

"I'm good. She's in the archives now. She...she looks like..." Scotlyn searched for the right description.

"Scot, spit it out."

"She's just not herself but even more than when I asked you to hang out at her place on Saturday. I can't really describe it."

"No, I know what you mean. I saw it, too."

"Ty, she looks kinda pale this morning."

"Did you ask her if she feels all right?"

"Yeah, she said she was fine. I know she and I both had bad dreams last night, but this isn't just from that."

"Right. Well, keep an eye on her and let me know if you need me. I'll do my best to try to finish up here earlier tonight," Tyler said.

"Yep. Thanks."

"Oh, hey. Today is Trent's first day of the internship, right?" Tyler asked.

"Yes."

"Tell him I said good luck, all right?"

"I will. Thanks, Ty."

Tyler slid his phone into his back pocket. He was working at the construction site for the museum the town had commissioned. It was designed to have a historic feel to it and many of the materials were salvaged from pre-nineteenth century buildings that had been torn down. It was being built in the center of a very large lot, which would also be home to paths, gardens and benches. There was a rendering of the finished project on a pedestal just outside the temporary chain link fence that surrounded part the construction site. A section of it was only taped off.

"Tyler," the foreman called out, in a gruff voice.

"Yeah, Pete?"

"I'd like you to meet Rensen." Tyler reached out his hand as the foreman continued, "He'll be replacing Tony. Show him around, will ya?"

"Yeah, sure thing."

Pete walked off, yelling orders to one of the guys in the structure and Tyler turned to the new guy. "So, Rensen, huh? Unusual name."

"Nah, that's my last name. My first name is Chris, but there are usually so many Chris's on the sites that they always end up calling me Rensen."

Tyler gave a quick laugh, but then it dawned on him. "Hey Ren, can you give me a quick second?"

"No problem."

"Cool, I'll be right with you, bro," Tyler said, turning and quickly walking out of earshot.

Tyler whipped his phone out faster than a cowboy with his gun in a western. He found Ellie's name and tapped on it. As he waited for her to answer, he kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

Ellie was knee deep in cemetery records. She had finally cracked the system, or lack thereof, and was able to organize them to coincide with a plot map she'd found. Excitedly, she went full steam trying to place the names with the locations. She had it about seventy percent filled in, but most of the gaps were around the area of the oak tree and that was exactly the area she needed to fill in. She reached into the box and pulled out a record, cross-referenced it against the chart she created and placed it on the copy of the plot map that Scotlyn had run off for her. She reached back into the box and repeated the process. Neither of them were anywhere near the tree. She went to get the next record but realized the box was empty. There had to be another box, she deduced.

Ellie went to the place she had found the first box. Nothing. She looked at the other boxes on that shelf and then in that area. Nothing. She followed the primitive labels of a system that had been outgrown long ago by sheer accumulation, hoping they might actually be where it said they'd be. Nothing. Ellie brought her hands to her face, smudging her cheeks and forehead with one hundred years of dirt. She couldn't accept that she had come so close only to hit a dead end. Ellie became more determined and started to look for a box that looked like the first box of records. Nothing. She looked randomly in boxes and in unlabeled piles. Nothing. She searched the area she was working in as well as the filing cabinets nearby. Nothing. _No_.

In that moment, Ellie felt a blunt force to her back, like she had been hit with a lead-filled mattress. She hit the ground hard, landing on her knees and then catching herself with her hands. Large, blurred shapes hurried around on a canvas of blackness. She wasn't breathing and she fought to inhale air into her lungs. The moment she succeeded, the heaviness lifted and the room returned around her. She knew this feeling. It was a different experience, but the same bane ran through it as what she had felt the other night when John grabbed her wrist.

Ellie's phone rang. She heard it but didn't move. She was still feeling the shock of the stone floor reverberating and burning in her bones. It fell silent, but twenty seconds later, it was ringing again. Ellie managed to get it and answer.

"Hello?"

"El, it's me, Ty."

She was breathing rapidly as if out of breath. She didn't even realize she was doing it.

"Hey, what's going on? Are you OK?" Tyler asked.

She struggled to maintain a steadiness in her voice. "Yeah, I'm OK."

"You're out of breath."

"I have been searching the archives," Ellie said. She meant to just say that, but her rampant frustration seemed to pour out involuntarily. "I can't find the other box. There has to be one. I am so close to having some further info on her. I can't find the stupid other box," she rambled.

"Hey, slow down," Tyler said. "The stupid other box can wait. I just realized something. Her name: Arelyth. What if it isn't her first name? What if it's her last name, a family name? She did tell you that you could _call_ her Arelyth...she didn't say 'My name is Arelyth.'" Ellie listened, open to the theory, but not understanding how it would help.

Tyler continued, "El, when we were all there the other day, I found a whole census of surnames from the town. Since it didn't contain first names and that was all I thought we had, I didn't look into it any further. But it did contain other information and it wouldn't make sense to not connect the last name to the first name at some point in the records. If I'm right, then her name might be in that book." Her eyes began to light up.

"It was in the row of shelves closet to the wall at the front of the building. It was a faded blue book, titled Surname Census. You should see some loose printer's drawers with typeset still in them. The box is on the shelf above that," Tyler described.

Ellie was already headed over there as she listened closely to Tyler.

"Check that book, El. I have a stop to make once I get off the site and then I'm going to try to get there before they boot you guys."

"Thanks, Ty."

"All right. I'll see you later."

Ellie stood before the shelf he spoke of, her heart beating heavy in her chest. She pulled down a couple of boxes from above the printer's drawers and there in one of them was the faded blue ledger. She lifted it gingerly and slowly opened the book. 'Surname Census of 1862, town of Abingdon West.' Ellie paused when she saw the name of the town. She looked down at the box on the floor to see if maybe there was another ledger in there, but there wasn't. Deciding to explore further, she turned the page. Her eyes quickly skimmed the column of names. Her hands turned page after page, but the 'A's' quickly ran out. She sighed.

Hours had passed and she hadn't found a single thing to help her locate Arelyth or know anything more about her. It was nearly three o'clock and she was running out of time. The pounding in her head was making it impossible to imagine leaving without finding at least something. Feeling drained and overwhelmed and having no good idea of how to approach it now, she began randomly searching. Ellie ruffled through papers, explored the contents of boxes and read every label she came across. She was focused so intently on finding a piece of the puzzle that Scotlyn nearly scared her half to death when she bounced down the stairs.

"Hey, any luck? I'm done with work. I can help now. Did you finish the plot map?" Scotlyn asked.

"No. It was filling in perfectly and then I ran out of records. There is a huge hole around the oak tree," Ellie explained, in a huff.

"So you're looking for a second box?"

"I tried that. I didn't see one in any logical place. Then Ty told me to check a book of surnames incase Arelyth was actually her last name."

"Ooh, good idea."

"Yeah, it was, but it didn't pan out, at least not as far as the Census was concerned. So now I am entertaining the chaos of not having a plan and looking at absolutely anything, anywhere, in the hopes that I stumble upon something out of sheer dumb luck," Ellie explained.

"I see. Well, I will start mining the back row then," Scotlyn said.

"You are going to dig wearing that?" Ellie gestured to Scotlyn's attire.

"This is what I'm wearing and I'm going to dig, so...yes, I'm going to dig wearing this." Scotlyn smiled, "I thought you knew me better than that."

"Yeah, I do. You would play football in a ball gown if that's what you happen to be wearing when a game broke out," Ellie joked.

It felt good to Ellie to laugh and her head seemed to hurt a little less after she did. But her mood quickly drifted south again the longer she endured the fruitlessness of the search.

At 5:37, Scotlyn's phone made a melodic chiming sound. "It's Ty. He texted that he just left the site and is headed here."

Tyler loved his work, but today he was chomping at the bit to get out of there and check into that headstone at the cemetery. Since it was getting close to six o'clock, he decided to meet the girls at the archives first, before they closed.

As he parked his truck, Ellie and Scotlyn were just leaving the building. Ellie was doing her very best to hold in everything she was feeling. It was the ever-growing uneasiness, the fatigue, and a desperation who's origin she did not understand. She was invested at first by curiosity and the strong impression that Arelyth had left her with, but now she knew, albeit illogical, that her involvement was not optional and she could feel the growing detriment to her own well-being. Ellie didn't dare tell her friends. She didn't want to worry them or become some crazy element of drama in their lives, though given the unfolding of the previous night, she knew she should tell them. They wanted to be in the loop and she did say she would try.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here any sooner. I really wanted to catch you before you had to leave." Tyler looked to Ellie. "El, did you find anything in that book?"

"No, I didn't," she said, discouraged.

"All right, well I have something I want to check out. Don't give up, El. We'll figure it out," Tyler said, supportively.

"Yeah, this might be the most interesting thing that's ever happened in this town and we get to be a part of it," Scotlyn said, trying to be encouraging but fearing she just sounded cheesy.

Ellie thinly smiled. She was staring at her car, drained and just wanting to get home to lie down in her own bed.

"I'm going to go, guys. Thank you for helping me again. I'm sorry you had to go in to work, Scot, just so I could use the archives."

Ellie's tone was telling, but her friend's didn't know of what. The only seriousness they had originally attributed to any of this was the way in which it seemed to be affecting Ellie. But even that they chalked up to fear or possibly even the guilt that comes with being someone's only hope and failing them. But between last night and today she was taking it a little too seriously.

"El, I know you want to help this woman, but— "

Tyler was interrupted by Ellie's shriek as she pulled her forearm tight to her stomach, covering her wrist with her other hand. Scotlyn reached for Ellie. Tyler jumped out of his truck and ran to her, bracing her as she dropped to her knees, still clenching her wrist. As they tried to talk to her, frantically trying to find out what was happening, they had no idea that she could not see or feel them. She was back in that world of blurs and shapes that danced over darkness and told her nothing. There was pain in her wrist that echoed throughout her body and her ears were filled with the words, 'Let me, let me.' As if a slave to their hypnotic possession, she screamed out, "Let me!"

Ellie opened her eyes, surprised to see she was kneeling on the pavement with Ty holding her tightly and Scotlyn staring at her with tears running down her face.

"El?" Scotlyn said, in a shaky voice.

"El, what just happened," Tyler asked, sharply.

Ellie was terrified beyond words, not to mention embarrassed and confused. She scrambled for the words to say in response, but it felt as though her mind was functioning in slow motion.

"El," Tyler said, in a sterner tone, "what was that? What just happened?"

She swallowed hard. "Arelyth. It has something to do with Arelyth."

Tyler and Scotlyn looked at each other. Ellie was spent. The two blackouts weakened her significantly.

"Scot, take her to your place," Tyler directed. "You call me if," he hesitated to speak it bluntly, "anything. If anything at all. I will be back as soon as I can."

He helped Ellie into Scotlyn's car. As soon as they drove off, he jumped back into his truck and sped off to the cemetery. He made it there quite a bit sooner than he would have at the suggested speed limits and immediately began surveying the area. Having only been there at night, he hadn't gotten much of a visual on the exact location. Ellie had mentioned a big oak tree. He saw a few of them, but moved toward the largest. He jumped from marker to marker, quickly eliminating them, until he saw the poem.

Resentfully, he said, "Hello, Arelyth," as he kneeled down and began to study the stone. He ran his hand along its face and edges. He checked the back and the stones that immediately surrounded it. His linear mind scrutinized every line and angle. Then, as he kneeled there with his hands pressed in the grass, he saw an indentation at the base of the stone. It was just above the blades of grass that grew up against it. Tyler flattened the grass to reveal it continued downward. He scraped the dirt from the base of the stone, digging a small trench with his hand. Letters slowly began to reveal themselves with each pass of his fingers. He grabbed a rock and used it to dig deeper to see just how many more words were buried. A second line appeared, a few centimeters at a time, and he continued until he was a few inches below their bottom and certain enough that there were not more.

Blue lights flashed and a loud warning sound alerted Tyler to the men who were about to crash his party. A police car stopped abruptly at the gate of the cemetery. Two cops got out and proceeded to make their way to Tyler. He quickly turned back to the stone, committing to memory the lines he unearthed before they were upon him:

Isolde Arelyth Abingdon

1832 - 1893

# A SMALL ARMY

~ 18 ~

Scotlyn stood against the door frame, watching Ellie as she slept. She was deep in thought, trying to piece it all together. Ellie was like a sister to Scotlyn and she loved her deeply. It frightened her to think that her best friend might be in danger from something they couldn't even identify, let alone fight. It had never occurred to her that Arelyth might be bad.

Scotlyn heard a truck pull into the driveway. She knew it had to be either Trent or Tyler, so she made her way to the door. She opened it up and saw Trent headed straight toward her, a spring in his step and a huge smile on his face. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her in the air, kissing her hello.

"That was quite the welcome," she said, and for a moment feeling like all was right with the world.

"Today was amazing! Everything about the company is just as I hoped it would be. The founder, Dr. Gregis, is a genius. He is taking leading edge thought and introducing it into traditional therapies in a way that is significantly affecting improvements among patients. He is structuring a groundwork that could revolutionize the field."

"Wow, that sounds incredible!" Scotlyn hugged him tightly. "I am so happy it's what you wanted!"

"I'm going to do great things here, Scot."

They walked inside together. As Trent closed the door and turned around, Scotlyn stepped closer to him and spoke quietly, "Ellie is in the bedroom. She's asleep. I have to talk to you." She walked into the kitchen and started making hot chocolate.

"Uh-oh, it's a hot chocolate conversation," Trent joked, as he loosened his tie and sat down in the living room.

Scotlyn always made hot chocolate when there was something serious to talk about. It didn't even matter if it was summer. She felt like by having a comfort item it automatically made the conversation lighter and easier. It became sincere instead of serious. Trent loved hot chocolate, so he had subscribed to her reasoning without argument.

She walked into the living room and handed him a mug before sitting on the coffee table facing him. "I know you're probably starving. It's been a crazy day, so I ordered a pizza. Cool?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm good with pizza."

"Great." She quickly moved on. "OK, so Ellie. I'm not even sure how to start this conversation...."

"The pizza was a good opener. You're doing well!" Trent rubbed her knee as he made fun of her.

She smirked. "Good, you keep that bright, cheery attitude. Maybe then you won't want to commit me after I tell you this." Before she began, she noticed something about Trent. "Hey, you're not smoking."

"Nope. It's time to quit. That was the last crutch and it's time to kick it to the curb."

Scotlyn brightened up instantly. "Every time you speak tonight, you make me happier and happier, Trent. That is truly awesome!" Scotlyn had never nagged Trent about anything he had gone through or anything he used in order to rise above it, but she wanted him to be healthy. And even more than that, she wanted him to feel so good that he didn't need a vice to cope.

"This sucks," she added, out of the blue, her expression suddenly troubled. "I don't want anything to change how great today is for you."

"Scot, I'm happy. I can handle whatever it is you have to tell me about Ellie. You're not ruining my night."

"All right, here goes. The other day, she was at the cemetery and she sat under a tree for a while, because she was feeling like crap about John canceling on a big night with her," Scotlyn began.

"That guy is a jerk," Trent interjected.

"Yeah, but not the point I was going for this time, though. So anyway, she was there and down and I was at her place and she didn't get there on time, so I was worried and then when she did arrive, there was something really off and I don't just mean because of John and—"

"Whoa there, cowgirl. You want to rope in that run-on sentence? Just hit me with it."

"She might've seen a ghost."

"A what?"

"And it might've talked to her."

"I'm not so sure I want her sleeping in my bed anymore," Trent said, jokingly.

Scotlyn chuckled, "Stop, she's not contagious. Tyler and I started helping her find the ghost who, by the way, needs Ellie to save her life. It was interesting and kind of a cool mystery to solve. But lately she has been different. Like today, she basically screamed out in the parking lot like she was in pain or something. Ty and I were trying to help her, but it's like we weren't even there to her. I know it sounds crazy, but something is going on and she seems to believe it is Arelyth that is responsible."

"Arelyth?"

"Yeah, that's the ghost."

"Scot?"

"Trent, please. I know how it sounds and I don't know if she really saw it, but I do know her and I know that something is really wrong."

"All right, all right, but is it possible that we might be helping her more if we brought her to talk to someone?"

"I don't have time for that," Ellie said, appearing from around the corner. "None of this makes any sense to me either, but what I can't understand logically, I can feel— intensely. Right now, all I know is that I am tied up in this and that I am running out of time."

"Time for what?" Trent questioned, sitting forward on the couch.

"I don't know. I wish I did," Ellie answered, earnestly.

"El, I know Scot and I know she knows you well. I believe what she tells me, especially when it comes to things that are important to her. I've known you almost as long as I've known her and I know you are not flighty. Imaginative, but not flighty," Trent assured.

"I didn't imagine this."

"That's not where I'm going. I am just putting out there that from what is known of ghosts and spirits, that they can't actually possess you or force upon you their will. They can influence, but only if you are receptive," Trent explained.

Scotlyn gave Trent a side-long glare, teetering between shock and awe. "How do you know so much about ghosts?"

"You really do just like me for my looks," he teased, straight-faced, acting a bit wounded.

Ellie interrupted their exchange, eager to hear where this was leading. "So what would that mean?"

"I'm just saying that I am not certain how this could affect you if you didn't participate."

"She said I was her only hope," Ellie explained.

"For what?"

"She wasn't specific. She just said that if I didn't help, she would cease to have existed."

Trent leaned on his knees, clasped his hands and stared up at her, inadvertently making her feel very self-conscious. He was considering the new details and weighing them against any knowledge he had on the subject in order to form a stronger theory.

"Could it be a loop?" he asked, almost as if thinking out loud. "The thought patterns of those departed, especially the strong ones, do continue to re-play, as if on a loop and they can be tapped into." He clarified, "It isn't that they re-play, it's that they exist and the stronger the thought form, the more influential, which just means it is easier to pick up on by anyone within the range. Is it possible that she was once pleading for her life? In the past?"

"If that's true, how would I still be feeling the way I am?" Ellie was vague, remembering she hadn't told anyone about the uneasiness, pain or images she was experiencing.

"Thought patterns are not isolated to their place...or time...of origin. Quick example is when something happens to one person and it is instantly known by another person a great distance away. It wasn't known to everyone, just the person who was in the vicinity of the thought form, which, in this example, usually refers to someone deeply involved with them or who cares greatly for them. Basically they have a tie. So, if you picked up on the thought forms around this woman's life when she was here, you could continue to feel them as long as you are receptive to them. The more attention you give it, the more receptive you continue to make yourself. Like a tuning fork, basically."

Ellie began to feel some relief at the thought that this might all really just be in her head. But it wasn't all relief. "So, how would that separate me from people who are truly mentally unstable?"

"Energy is all around us. People are energy. Thoughts are energy. Tapping into them doesn't make you crazy. The people they house and treat are the ones who let it take them over. They become so obsessed that they can no longer distinguish between the thoughts that are their own and the thoughts that aren't. They tune primarily to that which most of us have been trained to dismiss— and trained to such an extent that few ever experience much of what should be normal perception," Trent further explained.

"You mean we are _supposed_ to see ghosts?" Ellie asked, taken aback at the thought.

"I mean, you are meant to translate things on a much deeper level than most of us do. Animals have not lost that perception."

"So if it really is a loop, how do I get out of it? What made me receptive in the first place?"

"Scot said you were feeling down. Probably depressed almost? Depression is a giving up. It's a letting down of your guard, which would not be a bad thing except that it's out of exhaustion, not trust. So, think about it— what was this Arelyth's message? Did it feel like joy and well-being, or did it feel like desperation and being trapped? I'd be willing to bet you could relate to those latter feelings at that time," Trent surmised.

"Have I told you lately how brilliant you are?" Scotlyn said, looking at Trent, attracted to him in all new ways.

"So I was able to see her, because the way I was feeling was the same as the way she was feeling? Or the way her message felt?" Ellie said, not at all confident that she was fully understanding what he was explaining.

"Well, sort of. There's a bit more to it than that. Let's just say that if you were walking on a cloud, life is great, happy as can be, you probably would not have seen her. I'm not saying she isn't real, or wasn't at one time, but it's possible that you just tapped into some residual energy. I think you were just on the same wavelength and your guard was down. I would find out who she is and what events may have transpired during her lifetime. That would probably turn out to be very revealing," Trent suggested.

"Yeah, easier said than done," Scotlyn threw in.

"It was so real though," Ellie said, understanding what he meant, but unable to shake the feeling that there might be more to it. "I saw her standing in front of me and I just...I mean I know what you are saying can explain away what I am about to say, but it doesn't explain what my gut is telling me. How do I know for certain if your theory is right? If I am wrong, maybe something bad really will happen to her. How can I be certain if she is real or just a residual thought?"

"I think I can answer that," Tyler interjected, suddenly walking in the door.

"Ty," Scotlyn said, surprised, "you're a lot later than I thought you'd be. Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, sorry. I had a little run in with the cops."

"What?" Ellie reacted, knowing it had something to do with his helping her and already beginning to feel the guilt creeping in. "What happened?"

"It's nothing. I went to the cemetery to check out the stone, just to see if we had missed anything. I looked over every inch of that thing until I finally realized there were markings at the base of the stone that extended beneath the ground. So I started digging away the dirt directly in front of it...enter the cops. After a bit of explaining that I was just trying to read the rest of the info and not actually interring a body with my bare hands in broad daylight, they allowed me to show them the uncovered words. Then we were all good friends," Tyler said, sarcastically. He continued, first filling in Trent. "The stone had no visible name on it when Ellie saw it, just a poem. Yet, Ellie had her name." Tyler addressed everyone in the room, "There were two more lines." He paused before speaking them clearly, "Isolde Arelyth Abingdon. 1832-1893." Tyler paused again before adding, "She's real, or at least she was. I don't mean to blow your theory to pieces, bro, but I'm pretty sure a loop doesn't know it's dead."

Ellie felt fear take over her body. Scotlyn was truly spooked for the first time since this began. Trent was intrigued and was ready to delve into this puzzle. Tyler was on a mission, but for now it would have to be to open the door because the pizzas had arrived. He paid the delivery guy and took the boxes, bringing them over to the counter. As they each reached in to take a slice, Ellie's phone rang.

"I'm gonna take this, guys. I'll be right back." She walked into the bedroom and answered her phone. "John, hi."

"Hey, what's going on? I'm at your apartment."

"I'm having dinner at Scot's tonight. Sorry, I didn't know you were coming over."

"That sucks. I was hoping I could see you tonight."

"Possibly later?"

"I can't. I have a meeting."

"A meeting? At like ten o'clock at night?"

"She just wants to go over some financial stuff. I'm not happy about it, trust me."

"I should get back to dinner."

"Maybe I'll call you tomorrow."

"Yep. 'Night," Ellie said, with little feeling. She didn't have an attitude, but she also didn't have the energy to build herself up with positive thoughts in the face of a situation that just didn't feel right. She gave herself permission to not let her imagination get the best of her, as it concerned John. She had enough going on with incorporeal beings. She didn't need to deal with physical ghosts, too.

Ellie felt flushed and unsteady. She inhaled deeply, trying to breath away the faintness. She hadn't eaten since the apple that morning, but it wasn't the hunger that was causing this. In fact, her stomach was so unsettled that she didn't even want to eat. This had to end.

She pulled her phone back out of her pocket and hit call. "John. Pick me up."

"What?"

"Pick me up at Scotlyn's place. It's important."

"Now? OK, I'm on my way."

Ellie hung up the phone and headed back to the kitchen.

"El, grab a slice before Trent eats it all," Tyler goaded.

Ellie smiled sheepishly. "Actually, I'm not that hungry. I think I am going head home."

"El, come on. You need to eat something," Scotlyn argued.

"And we have a lot to figure out," Trent added. "I'm still not sold on my theory being dead in the water, no offense Ty. El, did the woman say anything that would infer that she knew she was dead?"

Ellie went over the conversation again in her head and slowly began verbalizing anything relevant. "I asked her how she died and she said she could not answer that yet. I asked her if she was a ghost and she said basically that I could think of her that way for now if it helped," Ellie recounted. She rambled through key words until arriving at a thought. "Cease to exist...way I'll die...Oh, wait, near the end of the conversation she did say that she would die if I did not save her. She said I was her only hope."

"See! Right there. She doesn't know she's dead. She's begging for her life. It probably happened a long time ago," Trent pointed out.

"No," Ellie blurted out, unable to deny the feeling. "She was here and now. She was having a full blown discussion with me, answering my questions, explaining things to me. You are right, it sounds like she clearly feels she is still living, but maybe that refers back to the first thing she said...that she would not die, but rather cease to have lived. Maybe her meaning when she used the word 'die' was just different than the one we would normally assign to it?"

"But wait," Tyler jumped in, his brow furrowed as he recalled the night Ellie told him about seeing Arelyth. "Ellie, didn't you say she told you to read the stone? You and I were debating whether you were the 'per chance,' or the 'one page yet unwritten.' Trent, she had to have known she was dead; she referenced her own headstone."

Trent twisted his mouth, thinking for a moment. "All right, you have me on that one," he admitted.

There was one item they had not discussed yet, that surely needed to be. "El, what happened in the parking lot?" Tyler asked.

Ellie hesitantly responded, not wanting to be looked upon like a victim. "I don't know. There was just a pain in my wrist and darkness around me. It's hard to describe."

"Try," Trent said.

"There were shapes in the darkness. I don't even know how that's possible, but there were. They were forms, just barely, and if I had to guess I would say human forms."

"You screamed. Your wrist hurt that badly?" Tyler questioned.

"It was so painful that I could feel it throughout my entire body. Honestly, I didn't know I screamed," Ellie admitted, embarrassed. "I'm fine now. I'll be OK, I just want to get home and do some research before getting a good night's sleep."

None of them were on board with the idea, but they couldn't hold her hostage either.

"I am going to try online again," Ellie reassured.

"Are you sure you don't want to just stay here tonight?" Scotlyn floated the idea, concerned about her friend.

"I'm good. John is going to pick me up. It's been a long day."

Last night's dream fresh in his head, Tyler felt himself tense just upon hearing John's name, let alone that Ellie was leaving with him.

"Call me later," Scotlyn said.

"OK." With that Ellie left and walked to the end of the driveway just as John was pulling up. She climbed into his car and buckled herself in.

"I need your help." Ellie knew she was going to have to fill him in now, as she needed to do something that could get Scotlyn in trouble if she was a part of it. She needed to break into E-Quill. "I need you to take me to E-Quill."

"It's almost eight o'clock. Are they even open?" John asked.

"No."

"OK, are you going to tell me why I'm driving you to someplace that isn't open?"

"I'm working on that one," Ellie said, fidgeting at the thought of revealing her crazy experience to yet another person, especially the one she was dating.

"El, you know I'm not the most patient person. Can you please tell me why we are driving to E-Quill?" John asked, getting slightly agitated.

She gave John the cliff notes version, but kept looking at him to see if he thought she was crazy. He was the first person she was telling about the headaches and uneasiness and pain.

"Wait, so this person is physically hurting you?" John asked.

"I don't think _she_ is hurting me, no. I think what I'm experiencing has something to do with the whole matter though," Ellie said, honestly.

"So the other night when I thought I hurt your wrist—?"

"It was not you; it was part of this whole crazy experience."

"That's good. I thought I hurt you."

Ellie's heart warmed to hear John say something that showed he cared. It wasn't often he did that. The only thing that made it OK was that she had always suspected that he cared deeply for her. Now with him telling her that he was in love with her the other night, and with his sentiment tonight, maybe he was finally coming around. Ellie tried to leave it at that, but her mind kept alluding to the fact that he was meeting with Susan later that night.

"So what do we need to get from this place?" John asked.

"A book. It should have her name in it and maybe give me some additional information on her. I already looked through it today, but now I have her last name."

"And how might we be getting inside?" John asked the obvious.

"I left a window cracked open."

"You're quite the little criminal in the making."

"Hardly. So, you believe me about all of this?"

"I believe it's possible, but it is a little hard to swallow. It's the kind of thing you think only happens in movies, ya know?"

"Trust me, I know."

John drove past the parking lot and parked along the street a block further up. He looked over to her, "We don't want to give anyone reason to check in at E-Quill."

"Now who's revealing their mad criminal skills?" She said with a smirk.

"Smart ass. Get out."

They got out of the car and walked up the grass, following the tree line until they arrived at the front of the building. The side of the brick structure was lit by the lights in its parking lot but the front was nearly in darkness. Ellie pointed out the open window and John crouched in front of it, widening the gap.

"Come on, I'll lower you in. Here, take the flashlight on my keychain. Keep it low," he whispered.

Ellie slid her legs in the window and John took her arms and lowered her in until her feet touched one of the shelves. He continued to hold onto one of her arms for a moment longer.

"Hey are you grabbing this and coming right back out or am I crawling in there with you?"

"No, I'll be right back. I know exactly where it is."

"All right, hurry up." He released her wrist and looked around to make sure no one was near.

Ellie climbed down the shelves and carefully maneuvered down the aisle in the dark, keeping the flashlight pointed low, like John had told her. It didn't help that she was still feeling unsteady. Just as she came upon the box, she heard the sirens wail outside and she froze in her tracks. Her heart pounded in her throat. This was the first time she had ever done something this wrong and she knew she was in a lot of trouble.

The police unlocked the front door. Ellie stared down at the book in the box right in front of her. The lights flickered on and she could see it there as clearly as could be. The police made their way to her and she finally released her eyes from the book as they escorted her out. She had wanted to hide it under her clothing, but she knew they would find it and even worse than having theft added to the charges against her would be if the book was held somewhere that she could not get to it for several days or longer. At least this way it was here and available.

"I'm sorry," Ellie said to John, as they sat in the cell.

"Don't apologize. I'm the one who is going to have to apologize."

"I don't understand. What did you do?"

"Look, El, I know this isn't going to sound good, but my friends who could bail me out are in Colorado right now and my friends that are here don't have that kind of cash."

Ellie waited for the bad part, not completely understanding how this could get worse and not exactly anxious to find out.

"I called Susan. I had to El. She has the money to get me out of here."

Ellie stared at the floor, her mind numb from what she was hearing. She didn't want to sound insecure and neither she nor John were really the type to argue, so she tried, with what little energy she had left, to be rational. She softly voiced her concern, "How can you ask a favor of someone you are trying to break ties with? Doesn't that pull you right back into her web?"

"You didn't really give me a choice here, El."

She felt an unparalleled frustration welling up inside of her as his thoroughly ridiculous statement passed through her ears. She felt hope slipping away, desperation setting in and finally anger at herself for giving of herself so completely to someone who was so quick to sacrifice her and their future together. It was a vicious circle that kept repeating itself within her.

"The thing is, she doesn't know about you," John continued.

"She what? You didn't...after all this...she...what?" Verbal wasn't currently Ellie's strong suit.

"She can be vicious. When she wants something, she doesn't care who she has to hurt to get it. I was trying to protect you. But that means that she is going to be coming here to bail me out...just me," John rationalized.

Ellie just stared at him in disbelief.

"I really think it's best if she doesn't know about you. Once I'm out I can call your parents for you," John said.

"No. Are you kidding? I don't want my parents to know about this," Ellie said.

"All right, then Scotlyn."

"No. I don't want that either. Just don't tell anyone."

"How are you going to get out of here?"

"I don't know."

"I can't just leave you here."

"Apparently you can."

"El, don't be like that. Come on. I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll come back later and get you out myself. I'm not just going to let you sit in here."

"Fine."

"El—"

"It's fine. Come back later. I am tired, I'm in a lot of trouble and I just have to think."

A guard walked up to the cell door. "John Bezkregowiec," he said, in a low, emotionless tone. "You've made bail. Come with me."

He looked back over his shoulder at Ellie as he walked down the hall. She fought to hold back the tears she felt surfacing. To her great relief she was successful. The only thing worse than John leaving her in jail as he left with his ex would be if he walked away from her as she was crying. With him gone, she brought her knees to her chest and rested her head upon them, closing her eyes tightly. She must have nodded off, because the next sound she heard was her name.

"Ellie Mayfield. You made bail. Come with me."

Ellie stood, steadying herself on the wall until she felt she could walk without falling over. The guard lead her down the hall and through a door that lead out to the public area. A man behind a window handed her a bag of her possessions and rattled off some information she needed before letting her know she was free to go.

As she turned, her heart stopped. It was Tyler who had bailed her out and he stood before her now. He didn't say a word, but she could read him loud and clear. He simply gestured for her to head toward the exit. He followed closely behind her as she walked to his truck, maintaining his silence. Tyler opened the door for her and then closed it behind her once she was situated inside. He walked around to the other side, climbed in and placed his hands on the wheel, but he didn't start the engine. Instead he sat there, his eyes low, his breathing slow, deep and long. Before he said anything Ellie spoke up.

"I'm so sorry. Ty, I just had to get that book."

"But why tonight, El? Why like this?"

She realized she was finally going to have to let him know how much this was actually affecting her. "I couldn't feel this way anymore," she said, solemnly.

Tyler turned to her, a mix of sincerity and concern in his voice, "What way, El?"

"Like I'm going to pass out. My head hurts, my stomach is so uneasy that I can't even bring myself to eat and I keep flashing into someplace dark and painful— physically painful, like you saw in the parking lot."

Ellie paused a moment, looking down at her lap and taking a deep breath. "It happened inside the archives, too," she said, quietly.

"What did?"

"I felt like something slammed into me from behind, like a wall. It knocked the wind out of me and everything was dark, except for the forms within the darkness. When it stopped, I was on the floor and just catching my breath. That's when you called."

"El, why didn't you tell me?"

Ellie rambled, flustered, "Because I knew you were at work and I know you can't keep missing work to run to my rescue. And because I didn't know what had happened. I hadn't even processed it myself. Not to mention, it isn't exactly casual phone conversation." Slowing down, almost in defeat, she added, "Plus, I hate that feeling— that feeling like I need help. I hate feeling helpless. I try so hard never to be in that position and I rarely ever am. Now-a-days, it seems like I live in that position," Ellie explained, cringing inside. "It's almost like I'm trying to ration my help passes, otherwise I will use them all up; you will all get tired of rescuing me daily and soon I will be in it all alone...and I know I am in over my head, which makes that thought even more terrifying."

"Where do I even begin with that?" Tyler asked, rhetorically, shaking his head. "First, how long has this been happening?"

"Since I saw her, I have felt this uneasiness in my stomach. It increased to dizziness and the occasional headache. There is also this urgency that I can't describe except to say that I feel like I am running out of time and my part in all of this is not optional. All of these things were slight at first, but it's getting worse almost hourly now. That's what happened in the parking lot and in the archives today and the other day when John grabbed my wrist."

"Whoa, what? Go back to that part," Tyler insisted.

"Nothing. He grabbed my wrist to help me up from the couch and I felt a pain like he had put a knife through it. But no darkness. It was the first time it happened and it was for a couple seconds at most. It kinda freaked him out," Ellie elaborated. "And on the way to E-Quill this morning, I almost drove my car into a tree because all I could see was Arelyth."

"Whoa, wait a minute! That's pretty serious, El," Tyler said, hating what he was hearing.

Ellie's tone became more frightened and desperate. "Ty, I have to get that book. I have to find out what this is all about. I can't work like this and I can't imagine this feeling continuing to get worse. It has to end. I have to get out of this somehow."

"All right, all right," Ty said, soothingly.

"It's not. It's not all right. I am sorry about tonight. I am sorry I keep saying sorry. I had to try to get that book. I don't ever again want to feel what I felt at the archives," Ellie pleaded.

He took her hand and reassured her, "El, I am here for you and so is Scotlyn and Trent. You have a small army on your side. We are going to figure this out. We WILL get you out of this."

"What if you can't? What if it's beyond what any of us can do?"

"Then whatever it is will have to take us all out. El, I don't believe there is no way out. She came to you with a message. There had to be a reason for it and there had to be something you could do or she wouldn't have come to you," Tyler said, logically.

"El, I doubt if she would tell you she needed you to save her life and then try to harm you before you could," Tyler pointed out. He tapped on the steering wheel, thinking out loud. "Why are you feeling this? I don't see how the two can be tied. It's like something is missing. Did she say anything else?"

"Arelyth...can't answer...term ghost OK," Ellie began running through each part of the conversation speaking key words out loud. "Where you are...peaceful...stealing existence...how you died..." Ellie straightened up. "How she died...did I tell you that part? I'm not even sure I remembered it until now, it was so unnerving. She had said it is peaceful and beautiful where she is, but also something about theft of people's very existence and bondage. I asked her if that is what it's like when we die and she said no, but then she said if I can't solve this, it will be what it's like when _I_ die. I tried to get her to clarify, but her next words were that she is about to die and I am the only one who can save her...save the whole future, for that matter, but I think she was just referring to her own...I _hope_ she was just referring to her own!"

Wow, yeah, that was a pretty important piece. I still don't understand how you are connected, but we need to start looking into that too, since clearly you are," Tyler said, uneasily.

"I am so scared," she struggled to say, feeling self-conscious at such vulnerability. It was so true that she could not hold it back though.

"I know, I know. But you have to let us in. You have to let us be here for you. You can't go running off getting arrested and experiencing pain that sends you off the road, and not let us know what's going on," Tyler reminded her.

"I'm so sorry, Ty. Scot works here. I knew she could lose her job if she was involved and I didn't want to ask you or Trent to have to betray her by going behind her back. I knew you couldn't do that. I would never have done this if it didn't feel so dire. I feel like I'm being attacked by something I don't even know how to fight," Ellie said, the words flowing out a mile a minute. She took a breath and slowed before adding, "I don't even know how the cops knew we were there."

"There is a silent alarm," Tyler answered. "And what do you mean by 'we'?"

Ellie swallowed hard. "John."

"He helped you? Is he still in jail?"

"No. He left."

"Excuse me?"

"He left. He called Susan—"

"His ex?!"

"Yeah, and she came and bailed him out. He said she doesn't know about me and he thought it would be better if he kept it that way."

"So he left you in jail and took off with his ex. Unreal." Tyler slammed his palm against the steering wheel.

"He said I gave him no choice."

"Oh, he had a choice and he made it. Let me guess, he said he'd come back later to get you out?" She nodded. "Well, let him come. You're not going to be here for him to pick up." Shaking his head, "He left you?!" Tyler repeated, still enraged with disbelief.

Ellie was so choked up that she dared not speak. Tyler calmed down and looked back to Ellie.

"El, I am not leaving this fight until you are free of this. I am all in. I need you to promise me that you will tell me everything from now on. Promise me, El."

She let her eyes meet his only for a second, so he could not see the tears in them, and nodded.

"Good. Now we have to figure out how to tell Scotlyn. And then we have to get you out of this nightmare."

He turned the key and looked to Ellie.

"You're going to be all right, El. I promise you."

# DUST, RUST AND ENGLISH TEA

~ 19 ~

"You are buying me coffee today."

Scotlyn sat on the side of the bed where Ellie lay just waking up. She had stayed at Scotlyn and Trent's place in a small spare bedroom. Tyler, in Ellie's best interest, had made them all aware of how seriously this ordeal's undercurrents were affecting her. Scotlyn had insisted Ellie stay with them, arguing that in the morning they could grab the book and hopefully make some headway with this mystery.

"Because I owe you for last night?" Ellie guessed.

"Because you owe me for this morning. I saved your ass."

Ellie sat up a little, eager to hear any good news at this point.

"I talked to the owner of E-Quill and explained to him that when you were in the archives yesterday, you forgot your inhaler down there. I said that when you realized it was missing, you panicked, knowing you couldn't get another until the next day and that an asthma attack could be life-threatening for you, so you just wanted to run in and get it."

"He bought that?" Ellie asked, surprised.

"Well, no. He talked to the cops who said they didn't find an inhaler on you. Of course, him making that call bought me time to plant one in the archives, so when we went down there to look for an inhaler to legitimize the story and found it...THAT he bought," Scotlyn said, a little proud of her cunning.

"Where did you get an inhaler?" Ellie asked, curiously.

"Remember that play I did in second grade for health class?"

Ellie laughed. "You _kept_ that?"

"Yep. I kept my plastic half-eaten Ho-ho from third grade, too."

"You're crazy," Ellie said, as they laughed.

"Yeah, well, my crazy got Mr. Sanderson to drop the charges against you, so there."

Ellie sat up the rest of the way and threw her arms around Scotlyn. "Oh my God, Scot! Thank you! You are incredible! Crazy, but incredible." Ellie sat up. "I can't believe he bought that. I feel kind of bad."

"So do I. He's a really nice man. But we shouldn't feel bad. It isn't like you were doing anything to damage the place. You just needed information."

Scotlyn tugged at the covers pointedly, stood up and walked out of the room, saying, "Come on, we have a mystery to solve before pea soup starts shooting out of your mouth."

Ellie chuckled, though not entirely doubting the possibility. She got herself together as Scotlyn made breakfast. Tyler arrived shortly thereafter and joined them. They each had their parts. Trent would find out what he could from his boss, who had some background in the paranormal. Scotlyn would let Tyler and Ellie into the archives and then drive out to talk to the town historian. They all made a pact — no more cops!

The day was actually starting off in their favor. Mr. Sanderson, the proprietor of E-Quill, had left early that morning for a two day business trip and the manager had called out sick the day before. That meant the assistant manager was in charge and she was normally glued to her phone, oblivious to everything going on around her. Scotlyn had no doubt she could leave Tyler and Ellie in the archives alone, without anyone being any the wiser.

"Hop in, El," Tyler said, unlocking his truck. Once she was belted in, he put it in gear and backed out of the driveway. Ellie was deep in thought, so it was a bit quiet in the truck. After a few minutes, a question occurred to her. "Hey, Ty?"

"Yeah?"

"The book in the archives...it said 'Town of Abingdon West.' You said the gravestone said Arelyth's full name was Isolde Arelyth Abingdon. I'm guessing that's not a coincidence."

"After everything that's transpired in the past few days, I don't even believe in coincidences any more," Tyler replied.

"It's weird though. I mean, her name was Isolde and this town is Islode's Tyme. But her last name is Abingdon and the book was about Abingdon. Did she have two towns named after her?" Ellie asked.

"One town. Isolde's Tyme used to be Abingdon East and West. I only recently learned about it. It's one of the perks of working on the construction crew that's building a local museum. The town's name changed in 1893."

They both fell silent at the realization and Ellie spoke what they were both thinking. "The year Arelyth died."

"Well, we know one thing — she was very tied to this town...or this town to her. You know what that means though?" Tyler asked Ellie. She looked to him awaiting his answer. He finished, "Someone's got to know something about her."

His truck pulled into the parking lot at E-Quill and Ellie nearly jumped out before he even came to a full stop. Scotlyn had pulled in just before them. She let them down into the archives before taking off to meet with the historian. Ellie immediately dashed to the faded blue book. She was feeling better, as was usually the case each morning. It would normally get worse as the day progressed. Scotlyn had insisted Ellie eat something that morning, which, she had to admit, felt better despite the slight uneasiness she was still feeling.

Ellie picked up the book and turned to the first page. Immediately she saw the name 'Abingdon.' A huge relief flooded over her. It was something and something felt like everything. They had their starting point!

"Ty! Ty, it's here!"

Tyler moved in to look. "OK, great. Now see if there is any info on the name or the family."

She turned the pages until the list of names ended. From there it went into facts on each family: births, deaths, marriages, property deeds. As she rifled through pages, Tyler began to look around, visually probing each rusty shelf. They had been looking specifically for a name the last time he was here, so it was possible they missed other things that could be equally helpful.

"Hey, Ty? Why do you think Arelyth only gave me her middle name?"

"Good question. I think you should ask her that the next time you see her," Ty answered, half jokingly.

"At this point, I wish she would just appear again. It would be a lot easier to just ask her about all of this. Maybe I should visit the cemetery again later, just on the off-chance she randomly appears again." Ellie was without much hope that she would, though. The last two times she was there were fruitless.

"As long as you don't displace tiny handfuls of dirt, you should be good," Tyler said, shaking his head at the absurdity the memory conjured.

That got a smile out of Ellie. The cop association brought another question to her mind though. "Ty, how did you know I was in jail?"

"When the police called the owner, he called the manager, who knew Scotlyn had been using the archives, so he called her to see if she knew anything. She saw his number and thought he was calling to ask her to work the next day, so she asked me to answer it because her hands were dripping wet from washing a glass. That's when he told me the basement had been broken into. It didn't take great deductive skills for me to know it was you."

Twenty minutes passed before Ellie spoke again. "I found something!" Tyler raced over to Ellie and crouched down beside the crate she was sitting on. "Look, Malachi Bartholomew Abingdon. Her husband, you think?"

"Yeah, look there," Tyler pointed. "They were married in 1848. That would have made her sixteen."

"I know that was common then, but I can't even imagine." Ellie continued to examine the page. "Ty, look!"

"Yeah, I see it. Arelyth Abingdon, 1849-1856."

"It had to be her daughter, right? And here, William August Abingdon, born 1851," Ellie read.

"Died 1901," Tyler said, picking up where Ellie left off. "A son, perhaps? He outlived his mother by a little bit, anyway."

"Here is the land Malachi owned. Can you understand where it is?" Ellie asked Tyler.

The book had a small map, titled 'The holdings of Malachi Abingdon,' with handwritten descriptions on small boxes that represented buildings. She moved the book closer to Tyler.

"Wow, no wonder the town was named after him. He owned most of it." He studied the map for a while, occasionally making a sound that indicated further understanding.

"All right, here is the river that runs behind the park. The cemetery is here, which, by the way, he owned too. These two farms along this road are now all single family homes." Tyler continued examining it. "Wow, you know, I think some of these buildings are still here. This one is now an antique shop and this one," he said, pointing each place out, "is still a tailor. That's incredible. I'm guessing that this one up here that just states his name, is his residence. It makes sense too. Do you know which house this is?"

Ellie looked closely, trying to compare it to the images of the town she had in her mind. "It's that huge victorian at the top of the hill, isn't it?"

"Yup. He would have been wealthy, so it all works. I wonder if the current owners know anything about it's history? You wanna take a ride?" Tyler asked Ellie, with a wily smile.

Ellie shook her head eagerly. She tucked the book safely into the box and Tyler lifted it back onto the shelf. He grabbed a marker out of his pocket and wrote on the side of the box 'Census.'

"You always carry a marker with you?" Ellie asked, mockingly.

"I do when we're researching something. You didn't bring anything to write with?"

"I have my phone."

"Oh. Right. A lot of good that would have done just then," he said, making fun of her.

Tyler and Ellie drove up to the old victorian house at the top of the hill. The home was enormous, a victorian mansion. It was three stories, with its two turrets extending even higher. The color palette was historically accurate and consisted of four colors. It was adorned in gingerbread detail and surrounded by english gardens. The house displayed the beauty of character of a by-gone era, though its excellent condition betrayed its age. A plaque next to the door read '1844.'

They knocked on the front door and were greeted by an older woman. She wore pleated light blue slacks and an off-white silk blouse. Her hair was white and it followed a subtle wave before circling into a bun. She wore gold, ornate, antique jewelry that appeared as though it hadn't aged a day. She was a small-framed woman who emanated refinement, but not at the price of arrogance.

"May I help you?" The woman asked, kindly and with perfect enunciation.

"Hi, my name is Ellie Mayfield and this is Tyler McKenna. Tyler is part of the construction effort to build a local museum right here in Isolde's Tyme and I am helping with some of the research. We noticed that this home is one of the older ones in the area and that it was owned by the town's namesake. If it isn't an inconvenience, we wondered if you might be able to tell us anything more about the house or the family that originally owned it?"

"Oh, certainly. It would be my pleasure. Won't you come in?"

As they entered and followed her to the parlor, Tyler whispered to Ellie, "Nicely spoken. The whole way here I was trying to figure out what we were going to say. I'm glad you took the lead."

As they walked down the entry hall and into the parlor, they noticed the house was just as well-cared for on the inside. Tyler was taking in every architectural detail. Ellie thought it was delicate and beautiful. Everything was tastefully decorated with expensive period furnishings and drapery. Even the knick-knacks seemed to be carefully chosen. Tyler examined the hand-carved, ornate woodwork of the massive staircase and as his eyes followed it upwards, he gently but urgently grabbed Ellie's shoulder, gesturing to the painting that hung on the wall at the top of the first landing of stairs. Ellie gasped. There hung a very large painting of a family: man, woman, young girl and young boy. Ellie turned to Tyler and subtly acknowledged the thought his eyes revealed about that being the family of Arelyth. She looked very different in the portrait, opaqueness aside, but it must have been them, so Ellie silently agreed.

"Here we are. Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

Before Ellie could politely decline, Tyler stepped forward in response, "Yes, that would be very nice, thank you."

Once the woman left the room, Tyler looked to Ellie. "I'm just being polite. Let it be more of a social visit with a neighbor than a hard inquisition. She isn't just some piece of info you grab on your way to the next. She is a living, breathing part of the history of this town and we may need to talk to her again in the future. People invite friends over a second time. Nobody invites a reporter back to their house. Trust me on this."

Ellie knew he was right and she was a little embarrassed that she came off so cold. She wasn't really like that, but this puzzle had her so desperate to find answers that she was admittedly acting out of character from time to time but never intentionally and never without feeling guilt upon realizing it.

When the woman returned, Ellie and Tyler took the tea cups she handed them and relaxed into their visit with her. This needed to be more of an act for Ellie, since it was very difficult for her to relax. She never knew when she was going to flash into some painful darkness or begin feeling faint. Not to mention, she needed to get back to her normal life and keep the commitments she had there.

Tyler started the conversation. "Your home is beautiful, ma'am."

"You may call me Helen."

"Helen. Very nice to meet you. How long have you lived here?" he asked.

"Oh, I was born right here in this house."

"Were you, really? That is something. So you have a real connection with this place," Tyler acknowledged, sincerely interested.

"I certainly do. It has been in my family for six generations, if you include me."

Ellie and Tyler both sat up a little straighter. Ellie tempered her eagerness before asking, "Are you related to the original owner?"

"I am. The original owner was Malachi Bartholomew Abingdon, my great, great, great, grandfather. He married a young bride by the name of Isolde Carrington. She was only sixteen when they married, which was common in those days, but he was almost fifteen years older than she."

Tyler pulled out a pen and a small notepad and began taking notes. This time Ellie was grateful he was so much more prepared than she.

Helen continued, "Malachi was a very loving and kind man, but also a very sharp business man. He began working in the general store when he was just eight years old. Between that and his chores on the farm, he didn't have much time left for schooling, so he stopped attending when he was eleven. For the better part of ten years he shadowed the proprietor of the general store, acting as his right hand and learning the business inside and out. When the owner passed, he left the entire business to Malachi. Within a few years, Malachi had more than doubled the store's profits. He began buying land and building new businesses. Eventually he even bought some of the existing businesses, improved them and then hired on their former owners to run them. By the time he was twenty six, he owned over forty percent of the town and had become very wealthy.

"The residents loved Malachi. Due to his devotion, the town prospered and became home to many in high society. They eventually re-named the town after him, the river running down its center dividing it into Abingdon East and Abingdon West."

Helen took a sip of her tea before continuing. "At twenty seven years of age he bought the house that sat atop this hill, built in the 1750's and altered and added on to it until it was the Victorian mansion you see now. When he was twenty nine, he took a bride. Her name was Eliza and she was seventeen on their wedding day. For a short time they were very happy, but seven short months later, she died of the influenza. That was the inception of Well-Sweep Cemetery. He built it for her. Do you know how it got its name?" Helen asked them.

Ellie and Tyler were almost in a trance, lost in the words of her story and the gentle tone with which she delivered them. The question jolted them out of that peacefulness for a moment.

Tyler answered, "No, I'm afraid we don't."

"Malachi hired a man to plant a lovely garden of flowers all around her grave. To be certain they would always be healthy and beautiful, he had the well dug and it had a well-sweep, which was a device used to get the water from the well. Everyday for a year, Malachi would bring up water from the well and water the flowers around where she lay. He hired people to do most things for him but not that. That he did himself," Helen said, with a poignant nod of her head.

"And that's how it got its name," Ellie softly concluded.

"That's how it got its name," Helen nodded affirmatively. "He was deeply depressed and it was Isolde who saved him from it. He treasured her for that, among other things and they fell deeply in love. Within the year, they were married. He treated her like a queen, doting on her, escorting her to all the finest engagements and indulging her with every refinement money could buy. Malachi also employed a small staff to wait on Isolde but, more importantly, a weekly doctor visit to ensure her continued health. In fact, throughout their marriage, he would decide what Isolde would wear, what she would eat and often he would confine her to her room if he felt there was any danger of her contracting something. It was a very regimented life, but some thought he more than made up for it with the extravagance with which her surrounded her, both inside and outside of this house. And of course, his love for her was in no short supply."

Helen took another sip of her tea and then gestured to a small plate of tea biscuits on the coffee table, "Please, take a biscuit."

"Thank you, Helen," Tyler said, as he and Ellie obliged, each taking one of the cookies and a napkin.

"Would you like to see her bedroom?" Helen offered.

Caught off guard by the random suggestion, Ellie stuttered for a moment before clearly answering, "Yes, please. That would be wonderful, thank you."

Helen set her tea cup on the table and ushered them up the grand staircase to the third floor. They walked down a long carpeted hallway until they reached the door at the end. Helen opened the ornate, solid wood door to reveal a large bedroom with twelve foot ceilings. Very thick, heavy, full length drapes blocked much of the sunlight that otherwise would have filled the room. The leaded windows were clearly original to the house. A large oriental rug lay beneath the four poster canopy bed.

"The furniture is the very same that was used by Isolde," Helen informed them. The room had clearly become storage for some of the home's overflow, yet in between the out of place elements gleaned the delicate treasures of Isolde, as bestowed upon her by Malachi. The chandelier had been electrified and a computer sat on a small desk, yet the essence of how the room would have appeared to Isolde, was evident.

"It is very odd," Tyler finally said, breaking the silence, "to be standing in the room she stood in over one hundred fifty years ago. It feels much closer than that."

"I get that very same feeling every time I walk in here," Helen said. "The distance of the past collapses upon itself; it is all simply yesterday."

"That's beautiful," Ellie said.

"Oh, not my words, dear, not my words. Isolde quoted them, but there was more. Unfortunately it has been lost, along with many of the treasures she owned. There was a fire here when my grandfather was a boy. Much of the history was lost then, though some of it was preserved: the pieces which were not too badly damaged," Helen said, with a tone of pity. She breathed it away and asked, "Shall we return to the parlor?"

They turned to follow Helen out of the room when suddenly Ellie felt an enormous pressure all around her, as if the walls were closing in and crushing her. A powerful heaviness exerted itself upon her, seemingly from above her head, though invisible during its translation. She watched through closed eyes as all of the color from all of the textiles in the room ran from their place and disappeared into the floorboards, leaving a grayscale abode. The oxygen all but used up until she could hardly force her lungs to expand. All at once, air burst into her lungs and all of the room's missing colors reappeared within her, battling the still compressing walls. Just as quickly as it began, it stopped. Ellie opened her eyes to realize Tyler was holding her up. He had one arm around her waist and the other held her arm. He was gazing down at her as if waiting for something. Ellie abashedly asked Tyler, "Did I fall?"

"No, but you looked like you were about to, so I grabbed you."

Helen was only one step closer to the door, her back still to them. It appeared as though only a second had passed and that she had not attracted any attention to herself, other than Tyler noticing she looked a bit off balance when she closed her eyes.

"Would you like to see their portrait?" Helen offered.

"Yes, please," Tyler answered on Ellie's behalf. Tyler continued to hold on to Ellie until he was certain she was stable, as they followed their host. Helen led them down one flight of stairs onto a large landing before pointing up at the painting that Tyler had noticed earlier. It was over six feet from top to bottom and embellished by a massive gold frame. Within its borders posed the family. Malachi stood nobly, his head held high. He looked strong and dignified and despite the seriousness of his expression, his eyes looked warm, proud. To his right and slightly in the foreground, sat Isolde. She was resplendent, her gown a crimson red with every embellishment of the era. She appeared prominent yet gentle. Upon Isolde's lap sat a bright-eyed little girl with golden hair and in front of Malachi stood a young boy, regal for his age. Helen named each of them and gave a recount of the time they had the portrait painted, as it had been conveyed to her. She then led them back downstairs to the parlor and once they each found their respective seats, continued her story.

"Now, where was I?" Helen asked, in an effort to spark her own memory.

"Malachi had just married Isolde," Ellie reminded Helen.

"Oh, yes. Well, one year after their marriage, Isolde gave birth to a baby girl, whom they named Arelyth. She was happy and healthy, a radiant child. Malachi and Isolde loved her deeply and created a life for her which was as lovely as she. Two years later, Isolde gave birth to a son, whom they named William August, after Malachi's father. The children lived a life of privilege. All the town adored Arelyth and William was the pride of his father. Each Sunday, they would picnic together in the gardens and Malachi would play with the children while Isolde watched joyfully, there to catch them in her arms when they would run to her to escape Malachi's capture in the game.

"Malachi was a busy man, but he always made time for his family. He would tuck in his children each night to tales of fantasy and eat breakfast with them each morning to lessons about the world they would one day enter. He would often return home for tea in the afternoons and stroll through the gardens with Isolde at his side, holding her hand in his, matching the pace of her gentle glide. He had it all: a lovely wife, handsome children, power and prestige. It was almost enough to make him forget about Eliza, or rather, the fear she instilled within him.

"Arelyth's seventh birthday was an unusually brisk and damp day. Malachi ordered Isolde to stay in her room and the servants were to keep the children in the house, as well. As Isolde sat at her window, she observed how bits of sunlight pierced the clouds and danced among the leaves and flowers. There was a magical quality to it, resembling the lands of the faeries that filled some of her daughter's bedtime stories. Isolde longed to share the misty, sparkling gardens with Arelyth on her birthday, so she disobeyed Malachi's order for the very first time.

"She and Arelyth walked among the flowers, feeling the tiny particles of water in the air kiss their cheeks, the breeze turning their shawls into beautiful flowing wings. She lost track of the time as the hours passed by them. Before long, Malachi returned home for afternoon tea and spotted them outdoors. A fury swelled within him at the thought of his wife's betrayal combined with the fear of her falling ill. He stormed out, picking up his daughter and taking Isolde forcefully by the arm. Malachi threw Isolde into her quarters and brought the child into the nursery, where he set her down for a nap, insisting she required rest. When he returned to Isolde's room, she began to plead with him, explaining her desires for the child on her birthday, promising never to betray his trust in the future. Malachi could hear none of it, an effectual servant to the sovereignty of his nightmares. He forced Isolde against the wall, threatening her severely. It was the first time Malachi had ever touched Isolde with anything but gentleness and it would turn out to be a crucial and pivotal moment in not only their relationship but in their lives.

"It was not cruelty that day that Malachi intended to display to Isolde. His threats were the guardians of his fear of losing her, as he did Eliza.

"Much of that was documented by Isolde herself in her journals, some of the words and phrases I used, of her very own mind. Did you know that?" Helen asked, tickled to be sharing her family's history with a new generation.

Ellie, shaking her head as if to free herself of the trance-like intensity with which she listened, replied, "No, I didn't. Do the journals still exist?"

"No, dear, not all of them," Helen answered. "Sadly, most of them were burned in the fire, except for one that was missing at the time. But no one knows what became of it. Fortunately, most of them had been read and their contents retold. I have begun writing the stories, as I remember them, so they will not be lost once I am gone."

"That is a lovely sentiment, Helen," Tyler acknowledged.

"Yes. Shall I continue?" Helen asked.

"Yes, please," Ellie and Tyler said, in unison.

"Very well. From that day on, Malachi was different. He loved Isolde, but he could not look at her in the same way after that. It was as if she had become part of the fear that terrorized him instead of one whom he was protecting from it. He continued to dote on her, but his demands became more frequent and exaggerated, as if greater means were necessary to ensure her continued well-being. As a result, she spent more time in the house, received more visits from the doctor and was often asked to consume concoctions of quackery in the name of well-being.

"Her change was only slight, unnoticeable to most. Her life was still one of extravagance and privilege. Isolde and Malachi shared a passionate relationship, which only grew. But Isolde could see the change in his eyes and she blamed herself for destroying the trust of the man she loved so dearly. Her every day was spent trying to repair it.

"It was five months later that Arelyth took ill. Isolde sat at her side day and night and the doctor was there daily. As the days passed and Arelyth did not improve, Malachi felt the all-too-familiar pain within his heart. He insisted Isolde remain in her quarters, as he himself cared for Arelyth. Isolde was beside herself, crying in desperation to be with her daughter. By the morning, Arelyth had passed. Malachi was instantly and permanently drawn into a world he had for years fought so hard to stave off. He no longer lived in the fear of the nightmare but in the reality of it.

"From that day forward, he was a very different man. The strolls and picnics ended. Work became his heartbeat and his son was an heir to be groomed, not a child to be coddled. His demeanor became direct, demanding and hollow. His relationship with Isolde became a source of further torment. He deeply loved her, but he also despised her, blaming her for the death of their daughter due to their time spent in the unfavorable weather the morning of Arelyth's birthday.

"A great distance divided them, even when attending the same function or dancing at a ball. But parties were rare, a thing of the past. Malachi's protection of Isolde reached levels proportionate to his growing fear. As a result, much of her life was spent within the house and, in later years, within the four walls of her bedroom. The only time she would see Malachi was when he lusted for her. It was then, as Isolde recalled in the journals, that he would allow himself to feel the deep love he held for her. She saw this not through his forceful need for her body, but through a softening in his eyes. It was there she could see the truth. But she also lived in a contradiction. She would forever be tormented that she was not with her daughter during her last hours, a direct result of Malachi's order; at the same time she felt she was responsible for the emptiness of a heart she once knew to be so full, and which she loved so entirely. The warmth she could feel from him in that occasional hour was torturous in its brevity.

"Malachi continued to groom William, often treating him more like an apprentice than a son, though in recesses of his mind he would not allow himself to access, he was very proud of William and loathed himself for the love he could not express to the boy. By the time William was sixteen, he was his father's right hand man, overseeing many of the businesses his father owned. But his loyalty was becoming ever more threatened by the abhorrence he held for the way Malachi treated his mother. When he was a boy, he believed his father's explanations of keeping Isolde well, but as he grew and took note of all the woman out in the town, healthy and thriving, he became more and more conflicted."

"It was quite a history, was it not?" Helen exclaimed.

"It definitely was," Tyler agreed.

"What happened to them? Did Isolde ever leave the house again?" Ellie questioned, needing to know the end of the story.

"She did, but not for many years. In 1885, William killed his father. Malachi was sixty eight. He had become increasingly bitter as the years went on and the way he spoke to Isolde could no longer be tolerated by their son. William was thirty four. He had a wife and five children. He spent the rest of his life in prison, where he died at the hand of another inmate at age fifty.

"Isolde was finally able to leave her room, but she seldom did. The contrast between the life she once knew and the tragedy that befell each of them, took its toll. Her eyes were lifeless. She sat at her window for the better part of each day, writing, until eight years later, at a very old sixty one, Isolde passed away in her sleep. As she wrote on her last day, 'I, at last, may let my quill rest and see if some peace does not await me amongst those for whom I ache.'"

"That is quite possibly the saddest story I have ever heard," Tyler expressed.

"Ma'am, why does Isolde have her daughter's name as her middle name also?" Ellie asked.

"She added it after Arelyth died to symbolize that she was always in her heart. It was one of the ways she kept her close," Helen answered.

"Helen, we can't thank you enough for the time you spent with us today. Your stories and information are priceless. I would very much like to read that book when you finish it," Tyler said.

"Oh, you are most welcome, young man. I hope I was able to help you find what you were looking for today."

"Yes, you did, thank you so much," Ellie added.

Helen stood to show them out, a maid entering the parlor to take the tea cups away as they left the room. "You may return, if I may be of further assistance."

"We appreciate that, Helen. It's been a pleasure," Tyler said, sincerely.

Ellie and Tyler walked back to the truck and climbed in. They sat silent for a moment, still feeling a slight detachment from reality.

Tyler spoke first, "I was hoping we might get the next piece or two, but we hit the mother load there, ya know?"

"I like how you can refrain from using the phrase 'mother load' when talking with more refined individuals," Ellie joked.

"Well, thank you for noticing that, Miss Mayfield," he responded, in a southern-gentleman-type drawl.

Tyler looked up at the palatial residence and allowed the last hour to sink in more fully.

"El, what happened to you upstairs in Isolde's room?"

"I don't know. I saw the room go colorless. I felt like there was no more oxygen and then suddenly it was like the oxygen I was fighting for just exploded into my lungs and all the color of the room was inside and around me, but the room was still gray. The entire time I felt like I was being crushed. Then I was back and you were...you said I looked off."

"That's really weird. This has to stop though. Hit in the back, extreme pain, being crushed? It's _not_ all right, not even a little bit. Did anything you saw or felt during that moment give you any indication of what Arelyth wants you to do?" Tyler asked.

Ellie was lost in the previous moments until Tyler said that. It suddenly hit her hard and she looked to him. "Ty. Everything Helen said to us...all of that information...Ty, I don't know how to save her. I don't know what I am supposed to do. I'm no closer to being out of this than I was this morning."

"I know," he said, his simple statement lending no comfort. "I know."

Tyler's phone rang. "Hello?"

"Ty, it's Scot. I found out some basic info. How are you guys coming along?"

"We found out a lot more than basic info. Ellie and I found her house and spoke with the lady living there, who is the great great great granddaughter of Arelyth's husband. We basically just stepped into the woman's life."

"You're kidding! Perfect. Did you find the box?"

"What box?" Tyler asked.

Ellie turned sharply to Tyler, hoping to decipher this news of a box from his expression.

"The woman I spoke to today told me about the house as well and she said there was a fire—"

"Yeah, we heard about the fire."

"—and that a lot of things were lost, but there is one box of very personal items that was saved that is either in the house still or in the archives. Supposedly the fire was started by the widow of Malachi and Isolde's son, William. By the way, Malachi was her husband."

"Yeah, yeah, we know that, too. About the box..." Tyler said, redirecting the conversation back to the item of most interest.

"OK, so apparently she was so angry that her husband was taken from her, first by prison and then by death that she later set the house on fire to destroy the horrible legacy of her late husband's family. But her son, wanting some justification for his father's actions, did not want that past incinerated. He collected anything that remained undamaged and hid it away. The fire only consumed a small section of the house but it was where a lot of her personal effects had been stored, so I suppose that was why she started the fire there."

"Wow, you got some info, too." Tyler interjected. "So what about this box, then?"

Ellie waited, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, so if the box isn't in the house, then it's in the archives. I will call work now. You guys can go right back down there and I will meet you," Scotlyn said.

"We're on our way. Thanks, Scot."

Tyler looked to Ellie as he started the truck and threw it in gear. "Box. Personal belongings. Arelyth. Archives."

Ellie was right up to speed.

# SILKEN SHADOWS

~ 20 ~

Tyler and Ellie pulled into the parking lot at E-Quill just moments before Scotlyn did. The three of them hurried inside and headed downstairs. Without needing to confer, they each began searching for the box of Arelyth's personal belongings.

"Hey guys," Scotlyn said, "is it possible that the woman in the cemetery was Isolde's daughter?"

"I've been thinking about that myself," Tyler shared.

"I don't think it is," Ellie said. "She was literally above the headstone with the poem and when Ty uncovered the rest of the writing it had said Isolde Arelyth Abingdon. Why would she come out of her mother's grave?"

"I don't know. None of this is at the point of actually making sense to me yet," Tyler pointed out.

"Just thinking out loud, guys," Scotlyn said, continuing to search. She made her way over to Ellie, turning every box in her wake upside down. "El, what happened with John?"

"He went back to the jail at 3am to bail me out, but called me when he saw I wasn't there. Then he just apologized again," Ellie said, not really wanting to think about it.

"3am?!" Scotlyn made the tough decision to not say anymore of what she was thinking. 3am would have meant Ellie would have been sitting in jail for four and a half hours.

"I know. I don't want to think about him right now," Ellie said, swallowing hard.

"Hey, Scot," Tyler yelled out, "was there any kind of description of this box we're looking for? Anything at all that could help us to identify it or help it to stand out? Is it even a _box_?"

"She just said a box of her stuff. She had never personally seen it. I immediately thought cardboard box, but did they even have cardboard boxes then? When did they come into use?"

"Not sure. I'll keep an open mind in my search over here," Tyler decided.

They scoured the archives, shelf by shelf, row by row, until they were each covered in dust and dirt. After three long hours in the cavernous collection, Ellie kneeled to explore a bottom shelf and that's when she saw something shimmering in a box behind the one she was about to open. She pulled the first box out so quickly that she didn't realize how heavy it was. As it reached the edge of the shelf, gravity took it and it toppled over, loudly spilling the contents into a small mess. Tyler darted around the corner and headed to Ellie. "Hey, you OK?" Ellie didn't answer. She was fixated on the box at the back of the shelf and crawled in to reach it. Scotlyn appeared from the other end of the aisle, also in question of the noise. Ellie grabbed the box with one hand and tugged on it, using the other hand for support. She lifted her head out and sat up, taking the box in both hands and placing it on the floor where she kneeled. Tyler and Scotlyn now also saw the shimmering. They came closer as Ellie pulled out a long, deep crimson fabric, buried beneath decades of dust, with a magnificent brooch pinned to it that still managed to shine through the grime. She stood up and shook it out, creating a cloud of particles that the single ray of light through the window illuminated. Tyler and Scotlyn stood silent as Ellie held the dress against her body. It was magnificent and commanded a presence of its own despite its obsolescence. It was surreal for the three of them to have learned so much about Isolde and now be touching the gown she wore in the portrait. It made her that much more real.

Ellie delicately laid the dress upon a shelf and went back to the box to explore its contents further. She pulled out some bank records, followed by an inventory sheet and some antique desk items.

"This can't be right," Ellie argued, to no one in particular.

"It's not. Look here," Tyler pointed to the label on the side of the box. "The Abingdon West Trust Company."

"That can't be all there is. We can't have come this far for one dress, even if it is the most elegant garment I have ever seen," Ellie said, refusing to give in to discouragement. "There has to be more."

With that she continued to search the area near where she found the box. Tyler and Scotlyn began removing boxes from shelves to reveal the items stored behind them. Within minutes, Ellie came upon a chest. It was completely out of place amongst the cardboard boxes and rustic storage options. This was an expensive dome topped chest with large mahogany slats and a pressed tin floral design embellished with gold. It was perfectly befitting a family of such status and wealth. As heavy as it was beautiful, Ellie asked Tyler's help to remove the trunk. He leaned in and dragged it to the edge of the shelf before lowering it to the ground.

"Would you like to do the honors?" Tyler gestured to Ellie.

Ellie brought her hand to the rusty, escalloped latches on either side of the chest's front and slowly flipped them open. As she raised the lid, the scent of violet wafted into the air and it competed with the mustiness that was simultaneously released. Within lay fragments of a once lovely life, prepossessing symbols of a powerful love before, in extremeness, it changed form and tormented its captives. These were pieces of Isolde's world. It saddened Ellie that they now resided here, in a dark, cold, dusty basement, un-cherished and forgotten. She delicately lifted a photograph, fragile and faded.

"It's her. It has to be. It's Isolde," Ellie shared with Scotlyn and Tyler, lightly handing the photograph to them.

"It's dated," Scotlyn said. "1892. That was the year before she died, so she was 60 here."

"She looks so old and so alone," Ellie commented, compassionately. "I can't imagine her life."

Ellie looked back to the chest and the vintage garment that laid folded within. She let her hand glide over the fabric and immediately the darkness was gone. The mustiness was replaced with the scent of violets, roses and honeysuckle. The shelf lined windows were now much larger and obscured by opulent drapery. Beneath her feet, carpet crushed between her toes. The chill was replaced by the warmth of a fire, the flicker evident peripherally to Ellie. A large chandelier's candles added light to the lavish room. As her head turned slightly right, she stared at a four poster bed with drapes half open on three sides. Luxurious linens and pillows covered the bed, the light from the fire dancing upon their alabaster tones. Ellie felt a hand upon her back. She turned her head to the left only to see herself in a long mirror that stood before her. Behind her a chambermaid unfastened her corset. It was evening. Surrounding her were the gifts of Malachi, new and sparkling, scattered thoughtfully throughout the room. She felt the corset come off and an excess of air almost euphorically fill her lungs.

She stared at the image in the mirror. Her skin was untouched by the sun and as fair as could be, but for the hint of pink upon her cheeks, subtle as a whisper. Her hair appeared much darker than usual and not for the dimness of the room. Large, natural looking waves were woven over and about each other, puffed into a chestnut crown upon her head. The rest of her thick hair wound up into a chignon at the back of her head from which long, soft ringlets cascaded down her back. Delicately ornate combs adorned the sides of the chignon. Hazel-green eyes stared back at her instead of the blue she knew. Her gaze was interrupted by the chemise passing up over her face and head. As her eyes returned to her body's reflection, she was looking upon her own natural form, except that it was not. She was shorter but with perfect posture. Her hips were more endowed, her waist unusually petite, though not freakishly so.

Ellie stood bare, wondering why she felt no urgency to cover up. She felt demure, cared for but also deeply happy and powerfully secure. This place was her own and she could feel that ownership extend down every hall and into every room, as if they were a part of her very body.

Appearing behind her once again, the chambermaid carried a long flowing nightgown, a cream-colored silken chiffon trimmed in lace of a rose hue, as fair as that upon her cheeks. As the diaphanous fabric first touched her skin, she swooned, melting into a comfort both heavenly and sinful. She felt her delicate arms enter each sleeve and the caretaker lacing the bodice, an intertwining of silken ribbon, joining each half in both back and front; a decorous floral bodice of golden luster was hugging her gently, quietly lending enhancement. The chiffon floated downward from its waistline. Skillful pleating of the edges, once tied, created a singular length of almost opaque lace that ran down her center, from waist to ankle. The fabric whispered the scent of jasmine. She was Ellie, but she was of two minds.

She remained. As the maid left her chamber, she knew that tonight Malachi would visit her abode. Dressed for him, in threads imagined by him, fabricated by the most skillful of hands; this was not her usual nightgown, nor usual for the period. This was Malachi; it was his passion for Isolde, his independent thought, his effusive gift to her exquisiteness. Though when she first received it she was abashed, Malachi's clout was undeniable and in her deep love for him, she found it contrarily gratifying to give in to his image of her.

Two taps on the door and the knob began to turn. It slowly opened to reveal Malachi. Ellie felt butterflies. His presence was commanding, his eyes loving. He moved toward her with confidence. She felt herself glide to meet him. As his strong hand gently touched her face, she closed her eyes, as if to lend enhanced perception to her sense of touch. He heightened her pleasure by caressing her forearm. Her skin felt soft and supple. Ellie, as if a spectator in her own body, was going through the motions and emotions of Isolde, while at the same time processing them in direct comparison with her own experiences. Every detail lent itself to the deeper understanding of both time and person.

Within his masculine arms, she felt wholly a lady; she was delicate and beautiful, poised and graceful, and demure in a way that did not subtract from or betray who she was as a person. It was such a harmonic melding of antitheses that she had absolute appreciation for each role, that of man and woman, and the way in which one supported the other.

Ellie could feel the depth of his love, undeniably. It became the very atmosphere from which she breathed. She also felt Isolde's heart and how beloved he was to her. Malachi moved her to him. He kissed her passionately and endlessly before lifting her effortlessly in his arms and carrying her to the bed. He placed her down upon the mattress. In his every touch he handled Isolde as if she were an angel. She felt adored and protected and positively enchanting. As she lay in silken luxury in the fire-warmed chamber, Malachi pulled the ribbon ties. She could feel the slightest resistance in the material moments before it fell willingly and openly free. The amber light of the fire flickered as Malachi and Isolde burned brightly.

Ellie let out a hushed scream as the metal of the trunk's edge cut her hand. The warmth became instantly chill and the light became dark. She looked up to see Tyler and Scotlyn.

"What is it? Scotlyn asked, alarmed.

"El, your hand is bleeding." Tyler reached for it and applied pressure to the cut, lacking for any kind of bandage. "I'm going to have to start carrying around a first aid kit when I'm with you."

"So what else is in here?" Scotlyn said, lifting the nightgown and opening it up. "Wow! Isolde had it going on. That is not what I would have expected a refined lady of the 1800's to have worn. Looks like there is more to her than we know."

"No," Ellie corrected, softly, still hypnotized by the world she had just glimpsed. "It's not like that. She _was_ refined. She wore that with total decorum. Their passion and lust was not of a sinful vein. It was more like an honoring of their love and of their natural selves. I know it sounds lame, but that's what I could feel from inside of her."

Scotlyn and Tyler hesitated to speak, first choosing their words carefully.

"What do you mean by that last part?" Scotlyn asked.

Ellie was now unsure of what they had perceived while she was away. "When I touched the nightgown, did you guys see anything?" Ellie questioned.

"Like what?" Scotlyn asked.

Ellie, self-conscious, rephrased it instead of answering.

"How long was I sitting there with my hand on the nightgown?" Ellie asked.

"Like two seconds," Scotlyn answered.

Ellie sat back, desperately wishing she understood this new progression and how it fit into Arelyth's graveyard request.

Hesitantly, she divulged, "When I touched the nightgown, I was in Isolde's room. I was in her body...or that was my point of view anyway. I saw it the way it was. I felt what she felt and what it was like to be her. Malachi was there. He was so in love with her. It felt like hours. I was completely there."

"We're closing in five," a voice from the top of the stairway announced down to them.

"We'll be right up, thank you," Scotlyn returned.

"Scot, I have to figure this out. There's more."

"Quick, let's see what else is in here," Scotlyn said and began taking items out one at a time to gather a speedy inventory of the contents. Ellie and Tyler jumped into the rhythm as well. Hair brush, necklace, music box, hair comb. Ellie grabbed Scotlyn's hand as she lifted an old book out.

"Wait! Is that it? Is that the missing journal?" Ellie asked, enthusiastically.

"The what?" Scotlyn had not heard about the journal.

Ellie opened it and found herself gazing down upon Isolde's handwriting, her words, her thoughts.

"It is. It's her writings!" Ellie looked to Scotlyn with desperation in her eyes. "I've got to read this. And the nightgown. Scot, please." Ellie knew nothing was allowed to leave the archives.

Scotlyn looked down at the floor, closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and then exhaled sharply, before looking back at Ellie. "You're lucky I carry a monstrous purse," Scotlyn said, with a craftiness that betrayed her moral inhibition to betray the trust of the people she worked for.

"Ellie brightened up instantly, "Thank you! Thank you! I owe you."

"Yeah, like a kidney or two. The nightgown and the book. The rest stay. Fair?" Scotlyn asked, more telling than asking.

"Yes. Perfect," Ellie responded.

"They have to come back. Soon. And just as they are now," Scotlyn added.

"I know. I promise," Ellie said.

Scotlyn folded the garment as tightly as she could and pushed it into her bag and then wedged the journal in behind it. They quickly put all the other items back into the chest and Tyler tucked it deep on the shelf, piling other boxes in front of it to keep it hidden, not that anyone else ever used the archives. They dusted themselves off and swiftly ascended the staircase, exiting the building with a calculated nonchalantness. Tyler got in his truck and Ellie jumped in the car with Scotlyn to stay near the items. They agreed to meet at Ellie's place.

When they arrived, Ellie climbed out and let them in the apartment. Once inside, Scotlyn took the two items out of her bag. She began to hand them over to Ellie before pulling them back at the last minute. "Maybe I should just put these in your room. Don't want you flashing through time again while you have company. That would be rude," Scotlyn joked, dryly.

"You know what? I feel better. A lot better. I don't know what that experience I had today was about, but I'm guessing it's the reason I feel almost back to normal."

"That is awesome," Scotlyn said and hugged Ellie. "Maybe she just wanted her memory preserved? Maybe she just needed to know her story wouldn't die, or she wanted the journal found? I mean, if no one remembers you, it's sort of like ceasing to have existed, right? It would be nice if that's all she meant, anyway."

"You have no idea how much I hope you are right about that," Ellie agreed.

"All right, I'm going to take off," Tyler said, heading to the door. "I know you are dying to dive into that journal."

Ellie smiled widely. Tyler opened the door and Michael mouse ran out into the yard. Tyler looked back at Ellie. "No charge for the extermination." With that, he closed the door behind him.

"That was my brother's subtle way of saying, 'Scotlyn, time to go.' So I will, because I know he is right about you and that book." She grabbed her purse and took Ellie's hand. "Call me if you need anything or find out anything really cool that I would be wounded not to hear about."

"Will do," Ellie assured, laughing.

"God, I wish I could borrow that nightgown," Scotlyn said, as if thinking out loud, as she closed the door behind herself. Ellie laughed and then headed to the bedroom where the items were, to connect more dots. As she entered the room, she got a text message and after reading it, called John back.

"Hi. How are you?" Ellie asked, reserved.

"Good. I never heard back from you. Everything OK?"

After John had gone back to the jail to get Ellie and saw she wasn't there, he had called her. It was so late, it had woken her from her sleep, so she just replied that she was fine and would explain everything later. She was so wrapped up in the unfolding of the day that she had never gotten back to him. She wasn't exactly eager to talk to him, which was new and didn't feel good.

"Yeah, my friends got me out. The owner had called Scotlyn because he thought she might know something, since it is so rare that anyone uses the archives anymore," Ellie explained, somewhat matter-of-factly.

"Good, I'm glad it worked out. I'm sorry again for leaving you. I didn't feel like I had a choice."

"I'm sorry for asking you to help me break into a building and getting you in trouble. The charges were all dropped, by the way," Ellie informed.

"Yeah, I heard. I was worried about that."

Ellie didn't like feeling a coldness toward him, but she didn't completely feel great about herself for wanting to be in a good place with him so much that she was willing to accept the way he handled it and let it go. But she did let it go; she wanted to be in love with him, not mad at him. She didn't know how they were going to work, but with everything that was going on, she wanted their relationship to be unproblematic. As always, she reasoned that if she could just hold on until he got Susan to release her talons, maybe everything would become normal. Maybe it would all become the way she had so often dreamed it would be.

"So...can you come over? I found out so much today that I want to tell you about," Ellie asked, allowing a little enthusiasm to slip through.

"I would love to, but I can't. Another time?" John asked.

"Um, yeah, sure."

"I'll call you tomorrow, all right?"

"Yep. Have a good night," Ellie said.

"You, too."

Feeling a little dip in her enthusiasm, she tried to quickly turn her attention back to the nightgown and the journal. Not ready for another trip back in time, she picked up the book and flopped onto the bed, laying on her stomach. She placed the journal on the bed in front of her and carefully opened the cover. The pages were yellowed but not overly brittle. The handwriting was feminine and exaggerated, though very detailed and uniform. The words jumped off the page, as if the air hitting them breathed life back into their message.

September 16, 1884. He does not look upon me today even as yesterday. The anguish has taken such hold that it washes what little love remains from him daily now. Where his hand lay upon my skin, the color deepens and shall remain so for several days to come. The better of the sting comes with that remembrance of days when he would not touch me lest it be as if glass, as if a treasure he longed for and toiled for and at long last did reap. Where I grow in emptiness, he is occupied relentlessly by a foe which does reside in heart and mind, and which is both grief and fear. It surprises me that he still fears for my safety, still protects a love that he can no longer show me nor barely feel himself. Through these long years, even as his light became dim, he yet would look upon me with the very same endearment as of our younger days, before my folly took her. Though that stare he did gift to me in the moments of an hour, whence he would call upon my affection, and never between, now that moment grows so brief I dare not blink or I shall miss it entirely.

I do not know what power keeps us here, nor helps us not, to find mended way. It is as if we breath for there is air and see for we have eyes, but we do not seek the air and we do not seek to see. There is irony in his ways. He goes to great lengths to protect me from that which his despisement hath brought directly upon me. If it were not for William, my dear William, I could not be certain of my verses tomorrow.

Ellie rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She recalled clearly the feelings of Isolde and Malachi that she had experienced only hours before. This was nothing like that experience. She didn't want to believe that a powerful love could take such an extreme departure. Ellie rolled her head to her left and looked at the nightgown. She needed to understand and she knew how to. Ellie just wasn't sure she wanted to experience that transition first hand. But she had to understand. She lifted her arm and reached toward the nightgown.

# THOROUGHLY ENGAGED

~ 21 ~

Scotlyn walked in the door of the dimly lit house to a candlelight dinner, as prepared by Trent. There were roses on the table and one in his hand. He made his way to the door and gave her the rose. Her smile was the brightest thing in the room. He kissed her softly and escorted her to the table, taking her things and pulling out the chair for her.

"Trent, this is amazing. What's the occasion?"

Trent sat at the table and uncovered the serving dishes. "I have been thinking a lot about these last five years lately. When you met me, I was pretty rough. I had been through some tough years and was at a critical point. I was volatile: a mess of guilt, self-destruction and determination. When I hit you with my bike that night, I just could not endure one more thing to condemn myself for. All I kept thinking was that you had to be all right. My head was such a mess that it was like I was on a delay. I was holding your arm and a few moments later I realized how soft your skin was. Then I looked into your eyes and several moments later realized how beautiful you were. When you spoke, your voice carried such warmth that I felt myself fighting to keep my defenses up. You asked me nothing and I ended up telling you everything and when I realized you were still sitting beside me afterwards, I let myself fall into the love I felt for you. I have never fallen out, only deeper.

"Scotlyn, you are the brightest, loveliest, truest woman I have ever known. You've been my support and my cheering section and I don't think I would be where I am today if it weren't for you. Every day I wake up eager to see you. Every night I thank God you're by my side. You granted a wish I didn't know I'd made and now I want to spend my life granting yours. I love you in a way that leaves only one question in my heart...Will you be my wife, Scotlyn McKenna?"

Scotlyn's face was wet from the tears flowing down it. She jumped out of her seat and threw her arms around him tightly.

"Yes, I will be your wife. Yes! A million times yes!"

They held each other enduringly, both of them invigorated and invincible. Scotlyn still heard his words repeating in her mind and saw every image of the path they'd travelled together.

+break+

Trent pulled up to the college campus, exactly to the spot Scotlyn had told him. When she saw the car, she ran over to it and hopped in. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Ready?"

"Definitely!" Scotlyn replied.

Trent drove her to a restaurant. He had called her the day before and said he had news and it was the kind that you tell over a celebratory dinner. Scotlyn didn't exactly need a reason when it came to seeing Trent, but she was excited about how upbeat he sounded. She became even more intrigued when she saw which restaurant he was pulling into. It was Bon Vie de Paris, the finest, most expensive restaurant in town. The trees lining the street in front of the building were tastefully covered in tiny white lights. The building was a cream colored stucco, with several large windows that gave preview to the magnificent interior. Inside, hung several large chandeliers as well as a small crystal chandelier over each individual table. The fabrics were rich and the lighting warm. A musician played the accordion and two others accompanied him in creating soft, romantic, traditional French music.

Trent handed his keys to the valet and then escorted Scotlyn inside. Without thinking she let her hand slide under his right arm and rest on his bicep. Upon realizing it, she was relieved that he brought his left hand across his body and placed it on top of hers. Scotlyn was still reserved with Trent, not because she questioned her feelings for him, but because they had been taking it slowly while he dealt with his own recovery. Their time so far had been more of a preamble to a relationship, which they mutually understood and felt wise.

"Bon soir, Mademoiselle et Monsieur. Let me escort you to your table."

The waiter led them to a table for two and placed the menus upon it. Trent slid Scotlyn's chair out for her, remaining until she was seated and then sat down across from her. A candle flickered between them in a beautiful crystal votive that scattered the light in a hundred different directions around its base.

"Would you like to order a bottle of wine?"

"Thank you, not tonight. Two sparkling ciders, s'il vous plait?" Trent ordered.

"Oui, très bon. Merci."

Scotlyn unfolded her napkin and draped the cloth over her lap. She looked up at Trent, nervous and anxious but also perfectly at peace. It was a contrary state that made perfect sense within her.

"Can I ask?" she inquired, when he smiled at her.

"You can ask. It doesn't ensure an answer," he joked, "but you can ask."

"Trent," Scotlyn said, coyly, though she was hardly shy.

He smirked. "All right, I will tell you now." He looked at his hands for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.

"You've been patient for seven months. You've put up with me while I cleaned up, worked and took care of my dad and it hasn't left a whole lot of time for us, I'm aware. Tonight is kind of a turning point. I have been clean for over six months and working two jobs, as you know. Well, today I was accepted into a college and I have enough put away that I can manage the costs. More good news — I got a promotion at my full time job and they are willing to work with my school schedule.

"I did it, Scot. And you are a huge part of that."

"Trent, that is awesome! I knew you could do it! I'm so happy for you. Good news? That is the greatest news!"

"There's a little more. I would like for us to make our relationship official. Of everything, those are the words I've wanted to speak most these past seven months. What do you think?" Trent asked, hopefully.

"What do I think? I think yes," she smiled, warmly. "I would be proud to be your girlfriend."

"It was important to me that we did this when you could honestly say that."

"Trent, I could have honestly said that seven months ago."

He smiled at her, believing that she meant it. "Yes, but I would not have felt I was living up to that pride. Thank you for waiting."

They had a wonderful dinner, with more courses than Scotlyn had ever been served at a single meal. They talked easily for hours. Trent had been wonderful the past few months, but that night it really was as if he was finally fully there. It was as if he was truly free of the struggle. He was relaxed and had come into the confidence that used to be expressed as anger or determination or focus, though he rarely allowed her to see anything extreme and never did he misdirect any darker emotions toward her. He saw clearly where she was concerned and it was his goal to keep her away from any flack.

After dinner they went back to his apartment. On the drive there, it had come up that Trent didn't know how to dance so, once in his living room, they put on some music and Scotlyn taught him. Though he caught on quickly, they were both enjoying the time in each other's arms far too much to let the lesson end prematurely. They eventually fell into a perfect rhythm, swaying with such sync that they were nearly one. She felt weightless in his arms which wrapped lightly around her waist. Her hands graced the back of his neck with occasional caress. His eyes took in every nuance: the sheen in her hair, the softness of her skin, the way she felt in his arms. Every so often she would look into his eyes, breaking his deep gaze and he would smile a crooked smile at her, falling in love with the lines of her lips as she smiled back at him. Her eyes glistened with the beauty of adoration. She lowered her eyes and he softly kissed her forehead. He dipped his head until his lips hovered near hers, their breath deepening as it warmed the space between them, further innervating the growing passion. She let one of her hands fall to his chest, where she crumpled his shirt in responsive waves. Trent slid his hand over her shoulder, following the soft, bare curve. They had stopped dancing and had entered into a rhythm all their own.

Scotlyn felt Trent's hand slide up her back, pressing her to him as he unzipped her dress. He gradually released his hold, allowing the dress to slowly slip to the floor. This was as far as Scotlyn had ever gone with a guy, not by pact or principle, but because it had to feel right and until now, it never had. She felt no self-doubt. Instead, she loved being seen by him.

She felt her fingers unbuttoning his shirt. Before she finished, he tore it up over his head and dropped it onto the floor. Her hands ran over his chest, over every firm muscle, and traced portions of the celtic cross that he had tattooed on the outside of his right shoulder. He unfastened his belt and removed it, before tightening his hold on her again, pulling her body to his and slightly releasing her so he could again look upon her. He ran his fingers down her back and then past her waist, before running them back up her sides and cupping her breasts. He squeezed them gently and she softly moaned. He slid one arm around her back and the other behind her knees and lifted her in the air. As he held her securely in his arms, he brought his mouth to her chest and she let her head fall back in surrender to the sensuality that electrified her body and mind.

He carried her to the bed and placed her tenderly upon it, removing her panties. She lay there watching him unzip and remove his pants, waiting to feel his body on hers. He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself over her and leaned in to kiss her, passionately and for an eternity, empowering the fire that coursed through them until she thought she would die from the intensity. Fully in tune with her, that was the very moment he let himself slide inside of her, rapturous and satisfying in ways her imagination never could have pretended.

Afterwards, they lay in bed, Trent holding her tightly. She felt at perfect peace. Nestled safely within his arms, she raised her head to look into his eyes. Her voice faint and delicate, her eyes wide and clear, she said, "I love you."

Trent slowly allowed himself to smile and he kissed her lips once more. He caressed her face with his hand and stared into her eyes, before saying "I love you, Scotlyn."

She smiled and let her head once again rest upon his chest, swaddled even tighter within his arms. She drifted to sleep.

The rays of the morning sun peered through the smoky room. Scotlyn opened her eyes. She saw Trent standing at the window. Between knowing he was there with her and the coziness of the thick down covers, she realized intense comfort that she half wished would never end. Trent quickly finished his cigarette and hurried back to the bed, kissing her before sitting beside her and rubbing her leg through the comforter.

"Morning," Trent said, warmly.

"Good morning," she said, smiling back at him.

"You don't have to get up if you don't want to. You can sleep as long as you like."

"That sounds perfect." She stretched her arms and snuggled back into the warmth and softness. "What time is it?"

"7:30."

She was so content that it took her a minute to remember. "Oh, no. Tyler is picking me up at the campus this morning to have breakfast with my parents." She sat up and scrambled for her clothes.

"Whoa, slow down there. Just call him and tell him I'll drive you to your parents house."

She looked at him with a telling face.

"Ty's not so sold on me yet, is he?"

"Sorry."

"No, I get it. I wouldn't want my sister dating a guy like me either. At least not as I was."

"Exactly. When he sees how you've turned your life around—"

"Hey, you don't have to explain. I know. It'll take some time, though. So, tell him a friend is giving you a ride. I'll drop you off a block away."

"All right, let me try." Scotlyn grabbed her phone from the night table and called Tyler. "Hey, Ty. You don't need to pick me up. A friend is giving me a ride." Her voice was a little uncertain and she was speaking a little faster than usual. "No, everything's fine. I will just see you at the house, OK? It saves you a trip, because my friend is already here." She listened a few moments before speaking again, "I know you don't mind, but it's just easier this time for me to meet you there. OK, great. See you in a bit. Bye."

"See, that wasn't so bad," Trent remarked.

She let her head drop into the blankets on her lap, sighing. Trent rubbed her back. He joked, "Hey, so we wouldn't have time for— "

Scotlyn cut him off, with a chuckle, "No," before hitting him in the face with a pillow. He made a remark of disbelief before scooping her up and tossing her back onto the bed. She laughed and then screamed as he pretended to jump on top of her, catching himself on either side of her body at the last minute. He lowered himself the rest of the way and kissed her deeply, touching her body one last time before letting her get ready to go.

"You know I was going to make you breakfast," he pitched.

"Thank you. I promise I will let you next time," Scotlyn said, gathering her clothes.

He flopped back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head and saying, "Oh, holy next time. I am already eager for that."

He surrendered his wistful daydreaming to get dressed and take Scotlyn to her parent's house. They both got themselves together and headed to his car. He opened the door for her and she immediately felt butterflies. Even in their haste, he was thinking of her and it made her feel genuinely appreciated.

"I am so in love with you, Trent Evans." She kissed him, her hands holding his face as she did, before hopping into the car. Trent smiled widely and felt a rush of pride, followed immediately by humbleness, as he walked swiftly to the driver's side.

"All right, let's get you there," he said.

"We have to stop at my dorm." He looked at her questioningly. "I can't go to breakfast in a formal dress."

"Right. Good point. 7:30am does not become me." She laughed.

Trent took her to her dorm and waited in the car as she ran inside and changed her clothes. When she returned, he drove her to Isolde's Tyme and pulled up to the curb a couple blocks from her parent's house to let her out.

"You're sure this is good?" he asked.

"Yeah, perfect. Thanks!"

They kissed.

"I will see you very soon," Trent said, assuringly. Scotlyn smiled and waved and walked down the sidewalk. He waited a few moments and turned the car around. Scotlyn walked in the door. She was twenty minutes late and hoping no one would notice. As she walked into the kitchen she saw they were just finishing the cooking.

"Good morning, honey," her mother said. "Breakfast is almost ready. Come on in and catch up with us. How's school been going?"

"Pretty good. Once I found a rhythm, it all fell into place easily."

"Good, I'm glad to hear you're doing well. What about the test you told me about last week? How did that go?" her mother asked, interested in her daughter's life.

"Aced it."

"Very good!" her father chimed in. "We knew you would excel. Good genes...on your mother's side."

Scotlyn's mother gave her husband a loving glance. The family brought the food to the breakfast table and they had a nice Sunday morning together, though Tyler was quieter than usual. It seemed to go unnoticed to all but Scotlyn.

Immediately following breakfast, their parents began clearing the plates and Tyler excused himself for a moment, leading Scotlyn by the arm once his parents had turned their backs. She glared at him, her eyebrows furrowed and tugged to get her arm back. He let go and motioned for her to follow. He led her into his old room, quietly closed the door and turned to face her.

"You were with Trent, weren't you?" he said, sternly.

"What?"

"Scot, I know you were. You wreak of smoke, you were weird on the phone and what college friend is wide awake at 7:30 on a Sunday morning and eager to drive you across the county?"

"All right, I was with Trent. Ty, he has been clean for six months. He just got promoted AND he got into college. He is going to be a doctor."

"Six months isn't long enough, he has done some serious shit and he's a lot older than you."

"Four years."

"He's seen a lot in those four years."

"Ty, I'm not a kid."

"You're _my_ kid sister. I've always looked out for you and that doesn't change just because you turn eighteen. Why was he at your dorm so early?" Tyler's expression almost instantly changed. "You have a roommate. He wasn't at your dorm, was he? You were at his place. You spent the night didn't you?"

Scotlyn looked away.

"Scot," he said, delicately, lowering his voice, "first time?"

She twisted her mouth awkwardly and then slowly nodded, making sure not to make eye contact. Tyler put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in defeat. She hugged him back. She secretly loved that she had such an amazing brother, even when it was embarrassing and oppositional. He was on her side far more often than he was not.

He spoke softly, "I just want everything in your life to happen at the right time. I don't want you to have anything taken from you, especially that amazing spirit of yours, and I don't want you to have regrets."

"I know," Scotlyn said, softly. She stepped back. "Ty, please trust me on this one. Give him a chance. Please." Scotlyn felt she knew what she was doing in this case and despite her often gentle nature, she had a strong character and stood firmly by what she believed in. She was going to see Trent whether Tyler wanted her to or not, but she would rather he was amiable to the relationship. Her family was important to her and very close-knit. She did not want that to change. "Ty...please?"

"I'll try. I would like to know he really has turned a corner, but I am going to need to see it."

"That's all I ask."

Scotlyn reached for the knob to open the door. As she did Tyler added, "Just be safe, all right?"

"Ty! Please don't go there."

"I know, I know. I'm just saying," Tyler said, shrugging his shoulders and holding up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

"Don't," Scotlyn insisted.

"Yeah," he mumbled, begrudgingly. They left and returned to the kitchen to finish helping their parents. The entire morning, it was all Scotlyn could do to keep a dreamy look off her face. All she wanted to do was replay the last twelve hours in her head. Her parents still didn't know about Trent. She figured she would slowly introduce him once he felt he was in a good place and had some consistency there. That point was getting close now. It didn't worry her. It made her happy. She wanted the world to know that Trent Evans was her boyfriend.

+break+

Scotlyn let go of Trent's neck and sat back in her chair in front of the incredible dinner he had cooked for her. The box with the ring still sat on the table before her. She had been so focused on his words, her eyes so filled with tears, she hadn't even seen him take it out.

"Are you going to let me put this on your finger now?" he asked, enamored by her emotion.

"Yes," she laughed. "I'm so sorry. Yes, absolutely!"

He slid the ring onto her finger, "I love you Scotlyn. I will _always_ love you, Scotlyn."

She got up and sat on his lap, her legs straddling his, and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. He held her as she cried, knowing it was in joy and loving her all the more for it. They did eventually get to the meal and it was delicious. It took Scotlyn a while to finish it for all the time she spent wonderstruck by her ring and the proposal.

After dinner, Scotlyn called her parents and Tyler to let them know the good news. She wanted to call Ellie, but she didn't know if she should, the rules being so hazy on if you should disturb a friend who may or may not be experiencing a different time in history though the perception of another person's body by touching a historical garment. She decided to wait and tell Ellie in person or at least call her in the morning instead. So after her other calls, her and Trent turned in.

It was a beautiful night. They left the windows open and a light breeze filled the room with the sweet scents of late spring. The moon shone brightly in the sky and illuminated the bed in a blueish-white glow. That evening they lay awake most of the night, talking and dreaming together.

# TIMING

~ 22 ~

Ellie reached her arm toward the nightgown, which lay beside her on the bed, and slowly let her the back of her hand touch it. Ellie felt a pain in her chest. She saw nothing at first. Gradually, she became aware of the carpet beneath her hand, the layers of her dress bound up beneath her shins and the tears running down her face. Her own cries were the first thing she heard. It was an odd feeling at first, to be experiencing such deep suffering and not know why. But the longer Ellie lingered in Isolde's world, the more she found herself immersed in the understanding of her mind.

She was on the floor, hunched over and sobbing heavily to the point of desperately gasping for air. She heard the door being unlocked and looked up to see it opening. There, through the distortion of tears, she saw Malachi. He quickly walked to her and loosened the strings of the corset. Suddenly, she drew in all the oxygen her lungs would allow. He lifted her to her feet, but she was weak and could not stand on her own. His eyes reflected an internal struggle and he looked as though he was one weak moment away from becoming very dangerous. She felt his hands holding her arms with a gentleness that betrayed the rage in his expression. At last, he spoke, "You will stay here. We will have the burial, but you will remain here."

"Malachi, I must be there. Let me. She is my daughter. Please do not deny me my own daughter's burial. Let me, please!" Isolde pleaded, his grip on her wrist tightening as she did.

"You were outdoors with Arelyth on that very same day. We do not yet know if you carry the same affliction that stole our child's breath. I will not chance your well-being. You will remain here," Malachi said, with impenetrable decisiveness.

Ellie felt herself, Isolde, trying to form words but too overtaken to succeed. He helped her to a chair and departed the room coldly. Ellie felt trapped, powerless, grief-stricken. She experienced the tragedy of Arelyth's death and the fault that Malachi had thrust upon her. Isolde felt not only the loss of her daughter but the contempt of her beloved husband. To be locked away from her child's burial, from her last goodbye to her earthly form, was unbearable.

Ellie sat up abruptly, with a sudden powerful and vocal gasp of air. Someone was knocking on the door. She couldn't be certain if it was that or the intense emotion that jarred her out of the visit, but she tried to catch her breath and regain her composure before she made it to the door. It was not easy. It felt like a nightmare that was so real you couldn't shake it. She opened the front door.

"Hey, am I interrupting something?"

"Um, no. Why do you ask?"

"You took forever to answer the door," John said, walking in.

"I didn't realize." Ellie decided that a brief answer sounded better than, 'I was in the body of a dead woman experiencing her grief during the mid-1800's, so I can understand how I might now save her from the impending fate of never having lived.'

"You didn't realize someone was knocking on your door?" John asked.

"No, I was caught up in something." Ellie answered, shortly, and tried changing the subject. She had wanted to let John know about the nightgown but she was not prepared to at the moment.

"What are you doing here? I thought you said you couldn't come by tonight?" Ellie inquired.

"I can't. I just had to tell you something." John had a serious look on his face.

Ellie got a feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she knew she didn't want to hear what he was about to say. "OK," she said, tentatively. "What is it?"

"I have a meeting."

"You drove out here to tell me you have a meeting?"

"It's in Nevada."

"For...work?"

"I have to go to Nevada...with Susan."

Ellie was silent for a moment as her mind raced. She didn't want to jump to conclusions and over-react, but it was feeling rather over-reaction-worthy.

"El, I know what you're going to say, but it's not a big deal. I just have to do this and she will get off my case, mostly."

"Mostly? John, you can't be serious?"

"I am. It's just a week—"

"A week?! You are going across the country with your ex-girlfriend for a week. She's just trying to get back together with you."

"I know. She's not going to though," John assured Ellie.

"She doesn't have to, you never left." The words had slipped out involuntarily and she immediately felt like apologizing. There was no attitude in her voice and she knew she was justified in the frustration and shock she was feeling inside, but she wasn't used to calling people out harshly, especially not John...and she was already afraid that she was losing him. There was a part of her that was angry at herself for wanting to apologize, though.

John raised his voice a bit. "I am not with her, El. I am with you. Where am I right now?"

Ellie spoke softly but firmly, "You are in my apartment to tell me that you are taking a trip across the country with your ex-girlfriend."

"To get her off my back. I know how it sounds, but I've already told her this is the last thing."

Ellie was quiet. She stared at a spot on the floor and did not divert her eyes from it. Her body language was that of defeat more than confrontation. When she finally spoke, she did so in a hushed tone.

"John, I feel like I'm waiting for a guy who is never going to come to me." The words betrayed the anguish she was feeling inside in that the more she felt she was losing him, the more she wanted to run to him, at almost any cost. She knew it was irrational, but the pain made it a constant struggle to listen to her rational mind. Even her statement was more about hoping he would fear losing her and come closer than it was about really standing up for herself.

John stepped closer to her and placed his hands around her upper arms. "El, I'm trying. She can mess up a lot of things for me. I don't want to lose you. I'm doing this for us. At least I told you. Would you rather I hadn't?" John asked, trying to hide behind imagined nobility.

Ellie couldn't believe what she was hearing and how infuriatingly ridiculous his argument was. "Maybe I should just step back for a little while and let you figure things out with her," she said, earnestly.

"No, El. No. That's not what I want."

"John, this hurts. I don't want to keep hurting."

"I don't want to hurt you. Look, El, let's just hang out for a while. I don't have to meet her for another hour."

"You're meeting her tonight, too?" Ellie was numb. "John, I can't." He took her wrist to lead her to the couch. "John, you can't just make it OK like that."

"How can I make it OK then?" John asked, not wanting to lose Ellie.

"Don't go with her. Tell her no. Stay here with me. Make a clean break, cut your losses, and start fresh with me."

"El, you know I can't do that. I thought you understood."

"I did, but it has been over a year and a half and nothing has changed."

"I can't talk about this again. Just sit down, please? I don't want to leave with you like this."

"I hope your trip resolves everything for you," she said, sincerely, ready for him to leave. It was less humiliating to find comfort in solitude than to stand there wishing he would comfort her, but knowing he wouldn't, at least not in any lasting way.

"El, I'm not leaving until I know we are fine."

She moved her arm a little, simply wanting to have her wrist back and he tightened his grip considerably. "John, just go on your trip. We'll see how that goes and if it really does settle things between you two."

"It will, but you don't believe that," John said, not giving up, his grip unconsciously tightening.

"Ow! John, let go."

The door slammed open and two hands ripped John away from Ellie. Before John could say two words, Tyler had punched him in the eye.

"Dude, are you crazy?" John shouted, bent over and holding his eye.

"Funny, I was just going to ask you the same thing," Tyler retorted.

"I wasn't hurting her."

"Yeah? Why is she holding her wrist?"

"I didn't _mean_ to hurt her. I would never do that," John swore.

"Well, you _did_ do that, but you won't ever do it again. You need to go now," Tyler said, inarguably.

"Who are you to get to tell me to go?"

"John, please, just go. I will call you another night," Ellie begged, wanting it all to stop.

John hesitated for a moment, looking at Ellie and then Tyler and then Ellie again. Tyler stood strongly, ready to forcibly remove John if need be.

"I'm telling you the truth, El," John stressed, before reluctantly leaving, glaring at Tyler on the way out.

Tyler hurried to Ellie, taking her wrist in his hands and feeling to make sure it wasn't injured. She was a little pale from having experienced two nightmares, both within a twenty minute period.

"Why don't you sit down for a minute?" Tyler suggested. He followed her to the couch and sat down next to her. "What is going on, El? Why can't you see what everybody else sees?"

Ellie avoided the question. She felt badly enough without having the reality spelled out for her. "How did you happen to be there at just that moment?" Ellie asked Tyler.

"I have remarkable timing," he said, wryly. "As for why was I here at all...I left my cell here when we dropped you off. I was just coming by to get it. I was about to knock when I heard you yell."

"I didn't yell," she mumbled.

"No, you're right. Michael mouse ran out from behind a shrub and started acting out the problem, charades-style, until I deciphered his mousy gestures and beat down the door in response."

"All right, I yelled."

"El—"

"Please, Tyler. I know. Just not tonight, please? It's only been a short time since we got back here, but it feels like it's been a really long night already."

"You touched the dress again," Tyler deduced. "What did you see?"

Ellie was actually relieved to have someone to share it with, not to mention having someone she trusted in the apartment until the creepy feelings faded a bit.

"Ty, they were so in love. I mean, it was unworldly!"

"Isolde and Malachi?"

"Yeah. He loved her so powerfully. It was genuine, I could feel it. Her love for him was no less. It was like constantly being in love with someone, no waxing and waning to it. I don't think he ever took her for granted, not one single day. Is that possible?" Ellie wondered aloud.

Tyler dipped his head and half smiled. "I believe it is, yes."

"When I returned there tonight, it was completely different. His love was still there, but that only made it worse, because it was buried under resentment. It was torturous in comparison. I could also feel how trapped she was. The submissiveness that was beautifully feminine and potent in its own right, became her stolen voice."

"No one could steal her voice," Tyler corrected. "She could only choose not to use it."

"But she couldn't. If she left him, she would have nothing, not even her children. Where would she go? It was a different time."

"Maybe. I can't know for sure, I didn't live then. I live now and what I am seeing with you doesn't appear a whole lot different than what you are describing with her," he said, bluntly.

Ellie had made no connection between herself and Isolde, especially not between their situations. She thought about it for a moment, but was too closely involved to see it on all the levels that Tyler could.

"I'm not like her. Why would you say that?" Ellie asked, defensively.

"She was being treated wrongly and she accepted it," Tyler said, connecting the most obvious dots.

"She had to," Ellie insisted.

"But _you_ don't. It isn't 1850 and you aren't married to John."

Ellie wanted to argue the point, but she couldn't with any conviction. "I'm just going to see if anything changes after his trip," she said, her tone revealing how beat up it had her feeling.

"Care to fill me in?"

She wasn't aware that he hadn't heard that part. She realized he must literally have arrived at the door as she yelled out. "I'd rather not think about it again, if you don't mind."

Tyler didn't want to distress her further. He knew she wasn't ready to hear it anyway. Tyler patted her leg a couple times and said, "OK, tell me what else you saw."

"Not much. Their daughter Arelyth had just died and Malachi wouldn't let Isolde go to the burial." Tyler made a face, but resisted the urge to speak its meaning. "She was so distraught. As I felt what she felt, I didn't understand how...how...it was unendurable...the sadness and deprivation of that last moment...and there were stabbing pains in my chest— she cried so fiercely.

"Then when he spoke to her, it was cold. He held her from falling and came to her aid, but it was in complete contrast with his callous words. There was love in his embrace; I could feel it as undeniably as anything. His touch was as caring as could be. Well, except for when he squeezed her wrist too tightly. But I felt her shock, like it had never happened before. I don't think he ever physically hurt her, but his unaffectionate ways hurt her enough, emotionally."

Tyler slid his thumb across Ellie's wrist, wrapping his fingers around the back and raising it up in front of her eyes. Chills ran up her spine.

"You saw that minutes before John did the very same to you?" Tyler asked, pointedly.

Those fading creepy feelings flooded right back into Ellie's being. "It has to be a coincidence." Ellie spoke the words, but she was unconvinced of their truth. The entire situation, since the cemetery, had been increasingly unnerving. She knew, at this point, that she couldn't dismiss any possibility. "Ty...what are you thinking it might be?"

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. "I am not insinuating anything. I am not saying that what you see has any power over what happens now. Did what you see during the time in the archives, happen?"

She smiled, shyly. "No, it definitely didn't." Ellie had not described that portion of the vision to anyone, but the point he was making did lend her some comfort.

"See? I am simply saying there are some similarities that maybe, possibly, it wouldn't hurt to take note of. Avoid some of the same mistakes, if you will." He could hear himself and he wanted to cringe. "El, I'm not trying to lecture. I just see certain things, that's all— things that make me a little nervous."

"Do you think this has anything to do with how I am connected in all of this?"

"I don't know yet. I keep running over it all in my head and then I repeat the process every time we get a new piece, but I don't know yet. I think it's something to stay open to," Tyler answered.

"Ty?"

"Yeah?"

"Half of the time I am intrigued by her and the other half of the time..." she stopped and looked down.

"El?"

"I hate this," Ellie confessed.

"I know, El. I'm right there with ya," Tyler reassured her. "I don't know why ghosts have to be so fucking cryptic."

Ellie finally laughed, which made Tyler smile too.

"All right, let's finish this." Tyler stood up, determined. "Where is the nightgown? I will stay right here with you while you go peek in on the rest of her life. What do you say?"

Ellie took his hand and stood. "I say, let's do it."

Tyler followed her to her room where the nightgown lay. Beside it rested the journal. "You might want to move that book, incase Malachi throws me across the room or something," she joked. "It's kind of fragile."

"If he does, I'll time travel over there and give him a black eye, too," Tyler said, implying he was much more of a fighter than he actually was.

Ellie was so used to doing things on her own, she hadn't realized how nice it was to have someone on her side. Opening up wasn't as scary as she had thought, at least not with Tyler. She felt bad that she was never as open with Scotlyn as Scotlyn was with her. Somehow she always feared she'd lose her best friend. After all this time, it stood to reason that she would probably be all right to let that fear go but, somehow, it was so much deeper than that, so much more than a conscious decision would fix. For all her talents, Ellie always thought she paled in comparison with Scotlyn, though Scotlyn would have disagreed with her completely. But Scotlyn had a lot more self-confidence. Ellie admired that.

Tyler moved the journal to the night stand and sat on the bed. Ellie kneeled on the bed next to the nightgown and raised her hand, letting it hover above the garment.

"Do you want me to count down?" Tyler said, wryly.

"Stop," Ellie laughed.

She began to let her hand lower onto the garment. Just before she touched it, she stopped, her hand poised an inch from it.

"What it is?" Tyler asked.

"I still feel the horrible feelings of when I was there half an hour ago. You know when you have a nightmare and you can't shake the feeling for a while? It's like that. But it was really bad. I've never felt so much agony. What if it's worse this time? I'm a little afraid to do this incase it's worse. I don't want to feel that."

"You don't have to touch it. We can keep looking for another way. So far, none of this has revealed to you how to help Arelyth anyway. Or Isolde. What are we calling her now?"

"Isolde, I guess. I was still using Arelyth because that's what she said at the cemetery. It does seem like she was Isolde, though," Ellie reasoned.

Tyler agreed. "All right, Isolde it is."

"I don't know what else to try. I have to do this," Ellie decided.

Ellie looked back to the nightgown and took a deep breath. She allowed her hand to touch the gown. Tyler was gone and Malachi was before her. His arm was tightly around her waist and his other held her face. He kissed her forcefully. When he removed his lips, she felt terror. His face was branded by his internal conflict. The cruelty of the uncontrollable forever tormented him, like an enemy always at his back. His eyes, beneath the glaze of a thousand sleepless nights, were like a dark room with a single candle that was at the end of it's wick; that light, the only thing ensuring her safety, was so very fragile. She saw a man ruled by a monster, one he could not in his lifetime slay and which would be unleashed upon her when that last light of love was extinguished. Her terror was in that sight, in not knowing when or if or what.

He was gray and much older. His imposing stance now merely an autonomic vigil to the man he once was. The strength in his arms no longer protected her, but tolerated her instead. His kiss was both a need and an outlet.

There was no fascination in the way his hands untied her corset, no caution in the way he put her on the bed. Ellie felt Isolde fight back a tear, in avoidance of the merciless apathy by which it would be greeted. As she looked upon Malachi through Isolde's eyes, he began to morph. The gray in his hair lessened. The lines in his face thinned. His hand no longer touched her skin, but felt it. His eyes were warm and there was devotion within them, a softness. He scooped Isolde up into his arms and adored her with his words and his lips and his hands. It was as before Arelyth died, except for a slight weakness that all but his body kept secret, as if the comfort he once looked to provide, he now needed some of in return. There was a sadness in seeing it. But he showed love to Isolde and held her dearly.

Malachi stood to leave and Isolde turned to look at him. It stung to do so. His eyes had gone cold. His demeanor staunch, anesthetized. Without even a glance in her direction, he left the room. Isolde sat there, empty.

As she turned her head, Malachi once again leaned over her body. Ellie realized it must have been a memory...a memory within a memory. She was now back with this far-gone version. His presence, his excessive, unrestrained movements— they were painful. His hands like vices, gripping and pulling. Tears now streamed down Isolde's face, but she refused to make a sound. He would not look at her. He spoke no words. His manner, unfeeling, was anguishing. Malachi did not intentionally cause her any distress. He had become intensity without caution. He was there for only a few minutes and again, as in the memory, he was gone— but this time he left behind a distress of her body.

Ellie lay there within Isolde, feeling all of her suffering, but very confused as to why she allowed it. With her son grown, she would have been better off just leaving him and living humbly somewhere. In answer, Ellie could feel the complete compliance within Isolde. In the memory, it was as if she had hope that his heart would fully return to her, but at this stage it was as if she was using him as much as he was using her. Unlike Malachi, she was looking for an end or at least a way to experience the pain physically instead of emotionally for a while. She almost hoped he would hurt her.

Isolde stood up, but a sharp twinge caused her knees to buckle. As she reached for a small table to catch herself, she hit the drip pan of the chamberstick, splashing hot wax on her neck and shoulder.

Ellie recoiled from the burning and fell backwards off the bed, landing on her back and neck. Tyler leaped off the bed.

"Slowly," he insisted, as she moved. "How is your neck?"

She turned it side to side and rubbed it with her hand, "It's fine."

Tyler sat back against the night stand. "So, what was the backflip about?"

"Hot wax."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, one hundred fifty years in the future when someone touches my sweatshirt and gets transported back to my life now, at least they will have electricity."

Tyler laughed to himself, as he helped her sit up. Several moments passed in silence and then Tyler spoke up. "Waiting for my postcard..."

Ellie knew what he meant, she just hadn't found the words. She finally gave up on accurate and shot for gist. "It was...painful. My body hurts right now, badly."

"You just fell off the bed onto your neck," Tyler reminded her.

"No, not from that. And not...there," she alluded.

Tyler gave her a look of comprehension, followed by an expression she had only ever seen on his face at the mention of John.

"Malachi was...forceful...very...and without evidence of any love left within him. It would have been horrendous except that she was OK with it on some level and I could feel how tortured he was. They were both just so far gone. There was nothing rational or salvageable about it."

Ellie hid well how shook up she was. She was no longer in Isolde and Malachi's world, but it felt malleable, like instead of being far in the past, it was brushing up against her cheek.

"Ty, how could they go from being so in love to being so dead inside?"

"I don't know, El. We didn't live what they lived. We don't know the fears they harbored or the beliefs they held. We have no idea how society impacted their options. Some people get divorced. Some are abused. Some people are killed or tortured in wars. We don't usually get to know why, even if they tell us themselves. We didn't live it. There are no rules, El. Don't let their fate scare you."

But it did scare her. It terrified her. He was right in what he said but, to a degree, she did live Isolde's life, or parts of it. She was thrown into it without the years of transition that could have at least made it bearable. It was so far outside of anything she had experienced in her own life, that its impact was piercing.

"How long was I out?" Ellie asked.

"Not a second. You touched the nightgown and fell off the bed," Tyler answered. "If it didn't scare the crap out of me, it would have been hilarious— Vaudevillian genius."

Ellie walked over to her mirror and discreetly looked at herself to make sure there weren't any marks. It just felt too real. She turned around to face Tyler. "I still don't know what my part in this is," she said, concerned.

"How do you feel?"

"I told you before, I hurt."

"No, I mean in comparison with how you were feeling the first few days after the cemetery," he clarified.

"Oh, good, actually. I think. These flashbacky things are intense, for good or bad. It's possible that some of what I was feeling might be masked by or wrapped up in this, though."

"So the uneasiness and the headaches, the urgency you described?" he asked, in further clarification.

"Not since this afternoon. When I touched the nightgown for the first time in the archives, it was life-giving. I know the whole thing is weird, but what I saw and felt was incredible. I haven't felt any of the things you just mentioned since then. But, in the spirit of full disclosure, these last two...umm...visits, were very different from the first and there are all new uneasinesses making themselves known."

"Such as?"

"Such as the residual emotion of the impression left. Such as physical pain that matches what I, as Isolde, experience in the visit. Such as _it_ isn't _there_ anymore," Ellie answered, growing more serious with each example.

" _What_ isn't _where_ anymore?" Tyler asked, with concern.

"Something. I can't yet put a name to it, but it feels like something didn't stay there. Not like a person or entity, but the entire time or situation or _something_. It feels like it came back here with me and it's right up against me," Ellie said, the fear making it difficult for her to speak the last words of the sentence.

Tyler stared at her with a seriousness that just frightened her further. He laid his face in his hand, covering his eyes. His stomach was literally sick at the continually amending realization of what Ellie was going through and his feeling of complete powerless to help her.

"Are you OK?" Ellie asked, softly.

He rubbed both hands slowly over his eyes and tried to rub it off, in essence. He dropped his arms and stood up.

"I say let it go for tonight. We'll grab some dinner. Then you should get some sleep. Anything you felt today should be distant by the morning, so you can see how you feel then," Tyler suggested. "Maybe...hopefully, it will have faded."

Ellie fidgeted uneasily.

"What?"

"This is going to make me sound like I'm five, but I don't want to be alone here tonight." Wincing, she asked, "Will you stay?"

Tyler gave a half-smile and said, "You have some extra blankets for the couch?"

She nodded.

"Well, then, as long as they aren't My Little Pony or Rainbow Bright...I'll stay."

Ellie smiled as relief overtook her.

"Thank you, Ty." She smiled sweetly and went to the linen closet where she made sure to grab the Hello Kitty sheets.

# A GHOST BY ANY OTHER NAME

~ 23 ~

Ellie awoke from a restless night's sleep, her dreams infiltrated by portions of what she had experienced of Isolde's life. She heard a noise from the kitchen and sat up quickly in her bed until, at the smell of coffee, she remembered Tyler had stayed last night. She felt a little embarrassed at having asked him but, secretly, she was still glad she did. Yesterday felt like it stayed until morning as well.

She got out of bed and went to join the noise in the kitchen.

"You are a very loud cook," she said, with a smirk.

"Ah, but is this omelette not music to your eyes?" Tyler whirled around, presenting the egg and tipping an imaginary hat.

Ellie laughed. "That doesn't even make sense."

"I only _made_ the coffee. I haven't drank it yet," he retorted. "How did you sleep?"

Ellie brought the coffee mug near her lips and sighed behind it. "I'd rather talk about the omelette, if you don't mind."

"That well, huh?" Tyler made Ellie a plate and slid it in front of her. "Eat. I'm going to take a shower. I've actually got to show up for work today," he joked.

"Yeah, me too," Ellie grumbled, as Tyler headed down the hall. Work was about the last place she wanted to be while still in the middle of all of this, but she occasionally found herself eager for the distraction that it could provide. She took a sip of her coffee and heard the bathroom door close.

Tyler took off his shirt and opened the shower curtain. His attention was immediately drawn down to the floor of the shower. "El," he yelled, calmly, through the door.

"Yeah?"

"Michael's back."

Ellie laughed quietly to herself and took another sip of her coffee.

+break+

An hour later, as Ellie was driving to work, Scotlyn called her. "Hey, Scot."

"Good morning!" Scotlyn said, as if all was right with the world.

"Wow, you're cheery...even for you."

"That is because I have news, but I can't tell you right now. We're taking you out for dinner tonight. Adamo's at seven, yes? Say yes," Scotlyn joyfully insisted.

"OK, yes," Ellie obeyed, smiling from this happy contagion. "Is it about Isolde?"

"No. Ghost-free night," Scotlyn assured.

"Sounds good to me!"

"Great, see you later!"

Ellie pulled into the parking lot of the dance studio and headed inside. As she passed the front desk, where Chloe sat chatting on the phone and doing her nails while her chocolate bar melted on the mouse pad, she was infinitely glad she wasn't working the desk today. Her ankle could use the movement, anyway.

She walked into the dance room and got ready for her class. As the girls entered, she greeted each by name and had them start some light stretching on their own until everyone arrived.

Ellie had begun lining up the music she wanted to use when Paige entered the dance room and walked over to her. "Ellie, we are closed next week on the day that was scheduled as an observation day, so I had to push it up to today. A lot of the parents are used to it being on Saturday because they work during the week, so the fact that they came out on a Friday, some of them missing work, means I've got to deliver. Can you swing it?"

"Yeah, sure. I can put together a nice class quickly," Ellie said, despite feeling less than prepared due to current matters.

"Great, thanks. I will bring the chairs in and start lining them up," Paige said, disappearing into the lobby.

Ellie didn't have the best night's sleep. She never knew when something bad or strange was going to happen to her and she couldn't help but have John on her mind. She hated the way things had gotten in their relationship. Ellie figured she could at least see how his eye was. She quickly grabbed her phone and called him while Paige was setting up chairs and parents were entering and chatting with each other.

"Hello?" said a voice on the other end. It was a woman's voice.

"Hello? I'm sorry, maybe I have the wrong number. Who is this?" Ellie asked.

"This is Susan. Who is this?"

"Wrong number," Ellie blurted out, hanging up instantly.

She turned the phone off and quickly tucked it into her bag. Her heart dropped into her stomach. She was white as a ghost. Ellie had never talked to Susan or heard her voice. Hearing it on John's phone, knowing he was in Nevada with her, made it disturbingly real.

Paige's voice broke Ellie's trance. She stood up, a little clumsily, and turned toward Paige with a smile. "Ready to go," she lied.

The rest of the parents filed in and took their seats. Ellie felt slightly faint. She kept going, while silently praying that no one would notice anything was off.

She put on the music, but when she hit play, it accidentally played the song before the one she had intended— the song her and John first danced to. 'Figures,' she thought to herself. Hearing that song didn't help at all and neither did goofing in front of everybody.

Ellie swiftly hit 'next' and the correct music began to play. She took the kids through a group stretch, assigning two of the girls to lead them. After that she had them run some across-the-floor exercises to more upbeat music. The routine they were working on for the recital followed that.

Ellie slipped into auto-pilot and somehow executed the teaching of the class with skill. She even had the girls and parents laughing a couple times, without losing the overall discipline. It didn't matter how she was doing it, she was just relieved that she was. Dance was such a huge part of Ellie that it wasn't a shock that she could run on auto-pilot. It didn't stop the empty feeling she had inside, as her thoughts continued to churn over her relationship with John. For the first time, the feeling that it was not just not going to work out, but that it was actually over, was fighting its way through her refusal to accept it.

The class came to an end with applause from the parents for their children and the teacher, Miss Ellie. Paige rushed over to Ellie to thank her for such a great class demonstration. She then asked her if she could come in the next day, Saturday. Ellie was already on the schedule, so she assumed Paige was just confused by all the last minutes changes to the day or, perhaps, just being thorough and confirming the schedule. Ellie agreed.

She worked for three more classes before packing up her things and leaving. It was an easy day, as the classes were all in the morning. That wasn't normally the case on a Friday, but schools were closed due to an annual meeting. In addition, Paige was a master scheduler and she had things worked out very well with the parents of the dancers, so no one ever questioned her changes. The next couple of days would be easier too. The studio was only open for half a day on Saturdays and Sunday they were closed, so Ellie would have most of the weekend to figure out her next move with Isolde.

Before Ellie reached her Jeep, her phone started vibrating. She realized she had forgotten to turn the volume back on. As she took it out of her bag, she saw it was from John. She almost clicked answer eagerly, but then it occurred to her that it could be Susan again. Ellie went back and forth in her mind, trying to decide whether she should answer it or not. There was a chance Susan didn't know who Ellie was, but if she heard Ellie's voicemail she would. That decided it. She answered.

"Hello?" she said, visibly cringing.

"Are you insane?" John asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Why would you call me? You knew I was going to have Susan around."

"Around, yes; answering your phone, no. How does that happen?" Ellie asked, hurt and annoyed.

Before John could make up an excuse she didn't want to hear, she continued, "I am supposed to be your girlfriend. Are you seriously telling me that your girlfriend is the one who has to not call when your _Ex_ is around?"

"El, its more complicated than—"

"Something about this doesn't feel right John. I have to go," Ellie said and hung up. All of her dreams, all of the love she had for him— she felt like she was never going to have him and it was eating her up inside.

She had never been short with him before, it wasn't who she was, but she just couldn't be talking to him any more. It hurt too much to hear another lame, nonsensical reason why his situation was such an exception.

The faint feeling returned, but she got in her Jeep anyway. There was no way she was asking for help from any of her friends, yet again. She drove off toward the park. A run was definitely in order.

Finding a parking spot near the entrance was impossible. Ellie finally gave up and parked in the first space she found, which was eight blocks away, on a street that she had no business being on. She jogged all the way to the park and when she got there, she jogged inside and ran even faster. For twenty minutes, Ellie ran hard. She ran the hurt out of her heart. She ran the fear out of her mind. She ran from John's reasons and the worthlessness he made her feel. She ran from Isolde and the horrible responsibility she had given to Ellie. She ran from her injury and the uncertainty of her career. She ran from the terror that any minute she would be thrown into a world of darkness and pain, without even understanding why. Ellie ran. She ran hard. And when her legs could no longer carry her and her lungs were screaming for reprieve, she realized everything she was running from was moving with her and none of it was going away.

Ellie bent over, her hands on her knees, and steadied her breathing. She then stood and looked to the sky. There were no clouds, just blue. The sun was blaring down upon her. People all around her walked and jogged, biked and skated. It would be summer in a few weeks. Ellie couldn't feel it. It felt the same wherever she was.

Ellie walked back to her Jeep, oblivious to the area around her. As she got in, she received a text from John. ' _I'm sorry._ ' Ellie tossed the phone on the seat and left. She didn't stop for chai, but she did drive down that street.

Ellie didn't even try to find a good spot on a Friday in the town of Isolde's Tyme. She just grabbed the first one she saw. This time it was over thirteen blocks away. Ellie didn't care. She was focused on one thing— talking to Mira at 'The Spirit Realm.'

She jogged some of the distance and walked the rest. When she got there, she didn't even check to see if it was open, she just pushed the door open with purpose. The chimes began to sing and Mira stepped out from behind a beaded curtain.

"Ellie, it's wonderful to see you again. How did it go? I was hoping you would visit again to let me know," Mira said, her words flowing so melodically from her mouth that she was nearly singing.

"Not so well. She didn't come," Ellie answered.

"Well, don't lose heart. I would try it again, a few more times if need be. It isn't magic and there are no guarantees, but as she did appear to you once of her own accord, I feel very good about her doing it again."

"Actually, I was hoping you could do a reading for me. I saw the sign on the way out the other day and I thought maybe you could see something that might help me understand. Is that possible?"

"It is, yes. Are you sure you would like me to look before you try contacting her again?" Mira asked.

"Yes. I need to know now," Ellie replied, certain she needed to know but not certain she believed in psychic readings.

"Follow me," Mira said.

She led Ellie around a corner and into a small, dark room. It couldn't have been more than eight feet square. There was a little round table in the center and a chair on two opposite sides. A tablecloth covered it and upon it were a few random items. She could barely make them out in the dark, but there appeared to be crystals all around the room.

"Have a seat, please."

Ellie silenced her phone and sat. Mira dipped her head and closed her eyes. She began taking slow, deep breaths. "What specifically would you like me to tune into?" Mira asked.

Ellie thought about it for a moment. She wanted to make sure she asked the right thing. The truth was, she had so many questions that it was hard to choose just one.

"I need Isolde to tell me what I have to do to help her and to get myself out of this," Ellie said, knowing how odd it must sound considering she hadn't filled Mira in on anything that had occurred. She also realized she didn't phrase it as a question, but Mira didn't raise any objection.

Minutes passed in silence. Finally, Mira raised her head, her eyes still closed. "I see a woman with a long, flowing white dress. She is bound in a cell and her path is unclear, but the possibility of a sudden ending is growing nearer," Mira began. She furrowed her brow, cocking her head ever so slightly. "I see another woman. She was very tortured within and suffered a great loss...her daughter...her husband...and another, a son."

Ellie's hands were sweating. She had goosebumps on her arms and was feeling both excitement and disbelief at the same time.

"This woman lived a long time ago. She is very tied to this town," Mira continued. "Does this sound familiar so far?" Mira asked Ellie.

"Yes! Yes, that's Isolde," Ellie answered, her eyes wide.

"Which one?" Mira asked.

"I'm sorry? I'm not sure what you mean.

"Which woman that I described is Isolde? Is it the first woman or the second?" Mira clarified.

"They are the same woman," Ellie said.

"They are not. They have ties, but those are distant. They are two entirely different people. It is odd, though...they share much of the same energy, but there is no mistaking they are two separate identities," Mira said, confidently.

"How can that be?" Ellie asked, almost to herself. She wasn't sure what to say, or even how invested she should be in Mira's reading. "So you mean to say that the woman I saw in the cemetery is not Isolde?"

"Yes, that is correct," Mira confirmed.

Ellie was speechless. Was Mira correct? She did describe each of them clearly enough and Ellie had not told her any details at all. If she was correct, Ellie had not even considered this as a possibility. Why would Isolde, or whoever she was, appear over Isolde's grave marker and pretend to be someone she wasn't?

"So she is alive? The first woman, with the flowing white skirt?" Ellie asked.

"She is, but I cannot say for how long. Her life is in danger. I keep seeing her in a cell, though often that is just a representation. In this case, I can't tell," Mira explained.

Mira seemed to have those details correct, too, at least as far as the woman in the cemetery had said. That would cause her plea for help to make sense. There were so many details that Ellie was trying to quickly run over in her mind. Mira interrupted her thoughts.

"As for the other part of your question, the answer is that you can't get out of it," Mira said, opening her eyes and slowly allowing her bubbly personality to seep back to the surface.

"What? I can't get out of it? Ever? Can you ask more on that?" Ellie begged.

"I'm sorry, Ellie. I usually only come out of that state when I have received all of the information I am going to get from the session. I am not saying we cannot try at another time, but right now, I am not feeling anything further," Mira said, compassionately.

Ellie was more confused than when she came in. She was happy to have more information, but the content of that information left her feeling like she knew even less than before. Why would the woman pretend to be Isolde? And why did she use the name Arelyth instead? Was she supposed to keep researching Isolde's life? Did it have something to do with the woman's situation? If the woman is not dead, how did she appear to Ellie?

"Mira? Do you know how someone who isn't dead might appear to someone in a ghost-like fashion?"

"I've heard of it. Usually it's a warning. The mind can do incredible things when faced with extreme challenges," Mira answered.

"A warning for the person they appear to?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes it's a warning that the person appearing is the one in trouble. Would you like to tell me what this woman said to you?" Mira asked.

Ellie figured she had nothing more to lose at this point. Besides that, she had already tried a seance and a psychic reading, both with Mira's help, so she probably didn't have to fear her judgment. Ellie told Mira what happened at the cemetery. She probably should have told her the things she had been feeling since then, but she just couldn't keep telling that story. It was disturbing enough living it.

"Well that is special, isn't it?" Mira said, intrigued.

"Special?" Ellie thought that was about the worst word ever to describe what this was.

"I wish it had happened to me. I would love to see that through personally," Mira said, still lost in Ellie's description.

Ellie tried not to let her expression reflect her thoughts. Was Mira insane? She would love to be in this position? Ellie wished Mira had some magic to make that happen!

"I don't understand why she would tell me her name was someone else's and then to seek her where she is, if what little info she gave me would only lead me to someone who is not her." Ellie's head spun just from speaking the words of the confusion.

"She must have had a reason. If it is _her_ that needs to be saved, but she gave you another's name, there must either be necessary information you will gain from the research or, perhaps, the other woman _IS_ the way to get to her," Mira said. "Either way, I would follow it out as far as you can."

"Is it possible for her to hurt me?" Ellie asked, hesitantly.

"I don't know. The dead ones are my area of expertise. The living ones confuse me, which is why I choose to work with the dead ones," Mira answered.

Now, Ellie really had a headache and there was nothing supernatural about it. She pulled out some cash and paid Mira. Ellie thanked her and said that if she couldn't figure things out on her own, she would return. Mira was eager to be kept in the loop. As Ellie was about to walk out the door, Mira called her name, but it was not in the upbeat, flowery tone to which Ellie had become accustomed.

"Ellie. What I felt, it was not pleasant. Be careful," Mira warned. If that wasn't enough to send chills up Ellie's spine, then the feeling she had that Mira was holding back in her description of what she felt, was. Ellie smiled thinly and walked out.

Ellie grabbed her phone to find out why it had been going off all through the session. There were six text messages from John, which was six more messages than Ellie felt like dealing with at that moment. She was supposed to be going to dinner with Scotlyn and Trent and she needed to get home to get ready for that. Scotlyn had said she had news and, from her tone, it had sounded like it was very good news. Since Ellie was not about to ruin Scotlyn's evening, it meant she would have to keep these new details to herself for now.

On her way home, she called Scotlyn to see if she was supposed to meet her at the restaurant, as well as who else was going. It was only going to be Scotlyn, Trent and Ellie there and possibly Tyler if he got off the job early enough.

Ellie got home and began getting ready. She tried to push everything out of her mind. It wasn't easy, but she just needed to keep it all at bay long enough to get through dinner. She had never before viewed hanging out with her best friend as something to just get through and that left her feeling guilty, on top of everything else.

It was a nice restaurant, so Ellie put on a black dress and a pair of low heels. She added some curl to her long locks and put on a little more make-up than usual. Ellie grabbed a sweater in case it was air conditioned and stopped one last time in front of the mirror. Remembering how bad she was at self-pep talks, she took a deep breath, gave a quick nod of approval to her outer appearance and prayed the inner appearance would behave as well.

When Ellie got to the restaurant, Scotlyn and Trent were waiting for her outside. They all walked past the line that stretched out the door since they had made a reservation. A waiter seated them at a small table in the center of a large dining area and handed them their menus. Trent ordered a bottle of champagne and the waiter hurried off.

"Champagne? Now I know it's something important. What's going on, you two?" Ellie asked, smiling.

Scotlyn was beaming and more radiant than usual. She grinned widely, unable to help herself. She reached her hand across the table to reveal the shimmering diamond ring on her finger. Ellie gasped when she saw it. She jumped out of her seat and rushed over to Scotlyn and then to Trent, giving them each a huge hug.

"Wow, you guys! I am so happy for you! Congratulations! You are perfect together. This is the greatest news!" Ellie gushed, genuinely excited for them. For a moment, she didn't feel any of her former angst or unease.

"Did you set a date?"

"Not yet," Scotlyn said. "We are thinking in the fall. El, I wanted to tell you first, but it happened last night when you were home with the nightgown and I didn't know if I should call." Scotlyn spoke apologetically. Ellie brushed it off, understandingly. "So that's why we wanted to do something special to let you know the good news."

"Order whatever you want, El— it's on me," Trent said, placing the cloth napkin on his lap.

"Thanks. Don't feel bad though. I'm just so thrilled that you guys are getting married!"

"I would like you to be my maid of honor. Will you be?" Scotlyn asked Ellie.

"I would be honored, Scot," Ellie accepted, sincerely. "I get final approval on my dress!" she joked.

"Do you think I would ever pick out ugly bridesmaid dresses? It would never happen. I'm breaking all the rules on this one." Scotlyn said.

The waiter returned with a bottle of champagne. He opened it and poured a glass for everyone. As he did, Tyler walked up to the table. Trent told the waiter to make it four glasses.

"Hi. Is there room for a big brother at this table," Tyler asked, leaning over and kissing Scotlyn on the cheek. He held out his hand to Trent. "Congratulations, man. I'm really happy for you two." Tyler turned to Ellie, momentarily at a loss for words. He wasn't used to seeing her so dressed up. "Hi, El. You look beautiful."

"Thanks," Ellie said, shyly.

The waiter had finished pouring the champagne and said he would be back shortly for their orders. Scotlyn, Trent, Tyler and Ellie raised their glasses in a toast.

"To Scotlyn and Trent: may your new life together be filled with laughter, love, happiness and health," Tyler toasted.

"To the perfect couple. I love you guys," Ellie said.

"To the most beautiful woman I never dreamed I'd get the honor of marrying," Trent said.

They clinked their glasses and took a sip. They each watered up a little but were purely and incredibly happy. When the waiter returned, they each ordered a gourmet meal from an enticing selection. The waiter returned twenty minutes later with their orders, placing them appropriately without interrupting the conversation of the table.

"So Ty, how's the new museum project coming along?" Trent asked.

"Really good. It would move faster if the foreman didn't lose his temper and fire someone every week. I think half my time is spent bringing new guys up to speed."

"Don't they already have a background in construction? Shouldn't they be able to jump right in?

"Ordinarily, yes, for the most part. This, being a period build, is a little different. They actually have to be introduced to the methods we are using for each aspect of the build. It isn't what they are used to; we are literally using the same methods used during the time of the town's inception. Let's just say there's a lot of grumbling and complaining. That, by the way, is also slowing things down," Tyler explained.

"But you're loving learning and using old methods, aren't you?" Scotlyn asked, knowing her brother.

"Oh, God, yeah," Tyler said, without lifting his eyes from his plate. It was the best steak he had ever tasted in his life. "Mmm, I'm going to tell everyone I know who gets engaged, that we should celebrate by coming here to eat."

"Tell you what, we'll have the rehearsal dinner here. How's that?" Trent joked.

"Perfect, I'll be there," Tyler said, instantly.

"Yeah, you will," Trent said to Tyler. "I know you didn't want Scot anywhere near me when I met her, and I don't blame you. You gave me a chance and I appreciate that. We've become good friends. In fact, you're one of my best. I'd like you to be my best man."

Tyler stood up and extended his hand to Trent, which Trent, standing up, shook strongly. "I'd be honored, bro," Tyler said, definitively.

"So we do know that we are going to get married right here in Isolde's Tyme," Scotlyn said, "at the little white church on the edge of town. It looks like the really light work schedule Mr. Sanderson gave me is perfectly timed and work will pick up to full time after the wedding. It's all coming together! I can use this off time to plan the wedding. Oh, and El, don't worry, I am still here for you 100% until we figure out this Isolde thing."

# THE BUILD-UP

~ 24 ~

Ellie hugged Scotlyn and Trent one more time, congratulating them again before heading to her vehicle.

"Hey, wait up," Tyler said, jogging behind her. "Let me walk you to your Jeep."

Ellie smiled. Tyler was also more dressed up than usual. He was one jacket shy of a full suit, tie included, though two seconds after he walked out of the restaurant, he loosened it. Ellie liked that, though.

"So how are you feeling today? Any better?" Tyler asked.

"That's a long story. Right now I feel great, though. It's almost as if it isn't happening or isn't real...this whole Isolde thing. I feel like I'm back to normal."

"That's great!" Tyler exclaimed. "Now back to the long story."

Ellie stopped in the parking lot and turned to Tyler. "You're going to think I'm insane."

"This situation is insane; you're not," Tyler said.

Ellie had already decided to tell him. She didn't want to keep this to herself, especially since it had taken a chilling turn. First, Ellie put on her sweater. The temperature had dropped once the sun set. Then she began to tell him about her morning, though in hushed tones. For some reason, no matter where she was, Ellie felt like someone was going to hear her and have her committed.

"So you remember Mira at that little shop further north?" Ellie asked. Tyler nodded. "Well, I went back there today."

"We don't have to cast a spell next or something, do we?" Tyler asked, sarcastically.

"No. I kind of went there for a psychic reading. At this point, I'm willing to try anything. Anyway, Mira saw the woman at the cemetery and she described her and even her predicament. She nailed Isolde's description and life. Here's the thing— she said they are two different women. Mira said she was absolutely certain that they were not the same person. At first, I wondered if I could believe her, but she was so accurate in everything else she said," Ellie justified.

"Two different women? Explain that further."

"She said Isolde is exactly as we have been finding, but that the woman who appeared at the cemetery is not Isolde. The real kicker? She isn't even dead, which at least explains how she could ask me to save her."

"She's not Isolde and she's not dead. So not only did she not give us her first name, but it wasn't even her name at all?" Tyler clarified, trying to settle into the new information.

"Right, which I guess also explains why nothing that happened was congruent with the way every ghost book I read said it should have," Ellie rationalized.

"How did she appear to you semi-transparently if she is alive?" Tyler asked, his brow furrowed as he processed the situation from this new vantage point. The questions were flowing into his mind faster than he could ask them.

"Mira said it happens sometimes when there is a dire need, usually as a warning."

"A warning to you?" Tyler asked, concerned.

"Maybe, yeah. It could also be her warning me that she is in danger—"

"Which she more or less did. But that doesn't even begin to explain why it has you feeling physical discomfort," he pointed out.

"I know and Mira didn't know if the Isolde imposter could hurt me, or not. She thought there was a reason why the woman gave Isolde's name and suggested I follow the trail until I find that reason."

"You feel fine now?" Tyler asked, again.

"Yeah, I feel like normal right now."

"Do you think maybe it ended? Whether by life or death, do you think maybe it doesn't require you anymore?" he asked, hopefully, even if only grasping at straws.

"That would be a dream come true. I guess I'll know if I start feeling badly again. How would someone cause another person to feel so off without actually being part of their experience?" Ellie wondered, aloud.

"How does someone haunt you without being dead? Your guess is as good as mine," Tyler added.

Ellie laughed. "It's funny, but it's not, ya know?"

"Oh, believe me, I know," Tyler assured her. He gently touched her arm, indicating to her to turn around. He placed his hands on her shoulders from behind and started her walking as he followed behind for a few feet before dropping his arms and moving up beside her.

"So what's next? We have the nightgown and the journal and possibly even Helen. Is there juice left in any of those?" Tyler asked.

"I'm not sure. I suppose I could try the nightgown again tonight. I have come to dread those visits," Ellie confessed.

"Hey, did you ask Mira about the time-travel-inducing nightgown?"

"No."

"Do you want company while you travel?"

"Yes, but no. At dinner, you said you have to be on the site at 6am. Get some sleep tonight. I'm off tomorrow. I'll be all right for one quick visit. Maybe I'll read the journal after that— that's safe, at least," Ellie joked.

"All right, but if you need me..." Tyler began.

"I know. Thanks!"

Ellie climbed in her Jeep and Tyler stood there until she drove off. She came to a red light and used the opportunity to take a quick account of how she felt. She felt pretty good. There was no uneasiness or urgency. Isolde wasn't filling her thoughts. Maybe Ty was right? Maybe the woman found what she needed...or didn't find it. Either way, perhaps Ellie was off the hook, after all.

She stopped at a convenience store. They carried the best churros anywhere and Ellie was wishing for one. She walked inside and straight to the place where they were. Ellie helped herself to one and placed it in one of the bags provided. As she turned to walk to the register, she bumped right into Gretchen, who spilled her coffee all over Ellie. She screamed from the heat but, fortunately, Gretchen used a lot of cream, so it wasn't scalding.

"Watch where you're going!" Gretchen yelled. "Oh, well if it isn't Smelly. You are buying me another coffee," Gretchen demanded.

"Those names are just getting so creative, Gretchen. You didn't even pay for that coffee yet. Just go make yourself another one." Ellie was annoyed that she would run into Gretchen just as she was feeling good again.

"How do you know I didn't pay for it yet? Maybe I did and I want you to buy me another one," Gretchen demanded, with more anger.

Ellie saw Gretchen's boyfriend in the back of the store and not wanting to deal with this any further, let alone both of them, she pushed past Gretchen and ran up to the register. She threw down more money on the counter than the churro cost and ran out the door. As she turned the key and put the Jeep in gear, she saw Gretchen's boyfriend making a dash for the door. Ellie drove away quickly.

She couldn't believe things had gotten so out of hand with them. She felt that uneasiness in her stomach again, but she couldn't be sure if it was Isolde or Gretchen. She wanted to get Gretchen off her back almost as much as she wanted to conclude the Isolde business. Gretchen's hatred for her was just not natural and it had reached the point of being disturbing.

Ellie got lost in thoughts of the day, the new information, the inconvenience store incident. She thought about the fact that she hadn't seen her sister in almost two weeks. Ellie also hadn't done anything for her ankle in almost as long. She felt like her life was passing by as she tried to solve a problem she didn't even want to be a part of. Then there was John. She didn't even know what to think in that department. She wanted to believe that beneath all his issues, he really was in love with her and could fully commit to her one day. She wanted to believe that the guy people warned her about was not really the guy he was. Ellie had seen differently and if she saw it even once, it must be there and part of his real self.

She turned right onto Walnut Street. A few seconds later, a large truck turned onto the road behind her. It was loud as it sped quickly up to her Jeep. The truck swerved back and forth, as if wanting to get around her, flashing its high beams and honking the horn. Ellie's eyes widened and she had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. She looked for a place to pull over to let them pass, but it was very dark and the only thing to her right was a small ditch.

The truck inched closer, riding her tail with less than a foot between the two vehicles. Finally the truck veered hard, hit the gas and sped up along side Ellie. The stop sign was coming up and Ellie still had no place to pull over and the truck was pacing her, inching closer and closer. Ellie's stomach was in knots. She hit her brakes but the truck mimicked. The stop sign was only feet away and Ellie ran through it making a hard right turn just as the truck was about to run her off the road. She missed hitting the stop sign by only inches. The truck sped off straight ahead, nearly clipping a car who had the right of way. Two young, drunk men hung out the windows, screaming and laughing.

Ellie fishtailed and finally got control of her Jeep, pulling into the first parking lot she came across to calm down. She was so scared she was shaking; she had never experienced anything like that before, where her life felt threatened.

Ellie tried to calm down enough that the horrible feeling inside would lessen but on some level it subsisted. At least it was random, that helped a little. She pulled back onto the road and drove to her cottage. When she got there, she grabbed the bag with her churro and went inside, happy to be home.

She relaxed on the couch for a few minutes and ate her churro. For those few moments Ellie tried not to think about anything. She just wanted to enjoy her snack— she deserved that.

Ellie wandered into the bedroom and stared at the nightgown. She decided to venture into Isolde's wonderland one more time. This had to end. First, Ellie changed into a summer nightgown. It felt good to be out of heels and feeling the carpet under her bare feet. She sat on the edge of the bed and then, remembering her Cirque du Soleil audition from last time, decided she better sit on the floor.

She lifted her hand to where the garment sat on the night stand and let her fingers fall upon it. Night became day and she stood at her window, staring out over the front lawn and the street down below that ran in front of it. It was a lovely summer day and the grass was green with life. A woman walked down the sidewalk with a parasol in hand. A horse and carriage sat in front of a house on the other side of the street; the doctor was there for a visit. Everywhere, life.

"Mother, I beseech you. Come to live with Elizabeth and I, away from the restriction which father has placed upon you. Live out your days walking amongst the flowers of the gardens and laughing with your grandchildren," William said.

"You are a good son, William. It is well of you to ask, but I cannot leave your father. I have watched as pain robbed him of his spirit and I have played my role within it, but I know, as none other, the love which is deep within him...and the fear which does keep it buried. To leave him would cause further grief, grief which he would not bear, but break under," Isolde answered.

"He will not change, Mother. He will get worse. All my life he has gotten worse. He will take all that is left of your life and he will break upon that same grief. It is not you who brings it upon him. You have family who loves you and wishes to spend these days with you. Would you forsake us to remain within these walls, within a cold embrace which protects you only from shadows?" William asked, raising his voice.

"What of your relationship with your father? If I were to leave him to live with you and Elizabeth, he would not forgive you and your relationship would forever be broken. I do not wish that," Isolde said.

"It is already broken. There will be no mending. He is too far gone. He cannot see, but through his fear and anger. These he will turn upon us all. Mother, come with us. Be free of this life, of this penance; it was never deserved," William said.

He walked over to his mother, placing his hands on either side of her shoulders and speaking softly. "Do not be afraid, Mother. I will protect you. What love he has left for you, what belief you have left in him, you may keep in your heart, a token of honor for the man you once knew him to be. Outside this window there is life, Mother. There are children, grandchildren. There are warm summer breezes and shops and fairs. There is a good life outside these walls, Mother. Come, do not let him steal you from us; let us not endure without you whilst you wait for a man who will not return," William implored.

Isolde turned from her window, the sunlight catching her gray hair. Though only in her late fifties, she appeared much older. As she looked upon William, a smile began rustily forming and Ellie could feel Isolde's love for her son rise up within her and give her the courage she did not formerly feel.

"I will come to live with you, William. I will need help with my belongings and then we will leave within the hour," Isolde said, a bit of life beginning to grow within her.

William packed Isolde's belongings and escorted her to his carriage. Her skin, so fair, had been untouched by the sun for many years. She wore a covering over her head that dipped low on her forehead to help shield her eyes from the light. She was thin and delicate. As Ellie felt the fresh air fill Isolde's lungs, it was as if the past met her right where they had left off. Isolde smiled, weakly but purely.

Ellie as Isolde, heard a knock at the door. It was dark around her and she was lying down. It was as if a short time was skipped over and Ellie did not know where she was. Isolde listened carefully and then, with the opening of a door, she heard Malachi's voice, thunderous with rage. William's voice met his with equal volume. They argued over William's taking of Isolde until Malachi became quite unruly. Malachi tried to push past William. Elizabeth dropped the kettle she held and it struck a large, heavy bell that was to be hung outside the coming week. Its deep tone resonated long and loud and became the soundtrack of the fate to follow.

William pushed Malachi back toward the door. There was a loud slam. Elizabeth screamed. A moment later, their ears were all deafened by a gun shot, their minds numbed by a reality that could not be undone.

William settled Elizabeth before running into the room where Isolde lay in bed. He kneeled at her bedside, wiping the tears that ran from her eyes. "Mother, I am sorry, Mother. I did not mean to. I know I will be made to pay for my crime, but you are free now, Mother. You are free!" William pronounced.

"William, I am not free. I am the prisoner who will suffer for your crime, a crime which has cost me both my husband and my son. I will not see either again in the time which is mine," Isolde said.

"Mother, I am sorry. Do not hate me for what I have done," William pleaded.

Isolde's eyes softened and she ran her hand upon William's cheek. Her words were hushed, but in sincerity instead of weariness. "A mother could never hate her son. I know you sought only to protect me. Malachi was breathing, but he has not been alive for many years. It is not the fate I wished for him nor for you. It is an ending that will bear further endings. It will touch your wife and your children and their children," Isolde said, sorrowfully hypnotized by the future that had just made itself visible.

The time was all too short until the sheriff was at the house, taking William to jail. Elizabeth held the crying children tightly to her until the men had left and for over an hour afterwards. Once the children were asleep, Elizabeth entered Isolde's room.

"I'll not have you in my house. You will return to your home in the morning. Until my husband is free, I will not allow you to be a part of these children's lives. The curse will end with you," Elizabeth said, with hurt and anger.

Ellie could feel through Isolde, a pain that bore itself so deeply into her soul that she could not believe she awoke the next morning.

A text message shocked Ellie out of it. She could still feel all of it as if it was her, as if it was then. She grabbed her phone to see that it was John, again. _'El, we need to talk. I don't like when it's like this. Susan didn't figure out who you are, so everything is OK.'_ And with that, Ellie was officially nauseous.

Ellie tossed her phone on the bed and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was getting late and she was exhausted, as had become the norm in recent weeks. She had to meet Paige at the dance studio in the morning, so she decided to call it a night.

She climbed into bed. The sheets were fresh and clean. Ellie loved that feeling of her skin against the cool clean sheets, more than usual tonight, because she was just happy she could feel something good, something that felt like home, that felt safe. As she went to put her phone on the night stand, it rang. Ellie was just about to decline the call, thinking it was John again but before she did she saw Tyler's name.

"Hi. I thought you were supposed to be sleeping," Ellie said.

"Yeah, well, the neighbors had a thing and then my friend, Jack, suddenly decided now would be a great time to return something I lent him last year. And there you have it— one very awake Ty," he explained.

"OK," Ellie laughed, "sorry about that."

"So, did you traverse the sands of time?"

"You make it sound so magical...if only. I did touch that awful nightgown, if that's what you mean," Ellie answered.

"And...?"

"And Isolde did leave Malachi. Her son, William, begged her to go live with him and she finally agreed. Malachi went to William's house that night in a rage and that's when and why William killed him. Elizabeth, William's wife, forbid Isolde to ever see her own grandkids and sent her back to the mansion. I am guessing that was a few years before she died. She knew then that she would never see her son again. Not getting to see her grandkids was just a lovely bonus," Ellie said, sarcastically.

"Wow, what a bedtime story that is." Tyler joked but he understood the severity of it.

"Seriously! It still didn't tell me anything about how I am supposed to save this other woman, whoever she is."

"Why don't you get some sleep, El? You can pick it up again tomorrow, but better to come at it fresh. Hey, did Trent ever get anything from his professor? When we went to the archives a couple days ago, he was supposed to be talking to his professor, who had some experience in this type of thing, right?"

"Yeah, but I guess with the engagement and all, maybe he forgot. Besides, now that it's possibly not a ghost, his input may not even be relevant anyway. I'll ask Scot in a day or two, just incase. I'll take whatever I can get at this point. Anything beats being haunted by a live woman," Ellie said, joking but not.

Tyler laughed. "I'll talk to you soon. Good night, El."

"'Night, Ty."

Her phone vibrated again. It was John.

'El, just text me that everything is OK. Please.'

She wasn't ready to talk to John. Hurting for Isolde was hard enough without facing her own breaking heart. She felt like she was in an impossible situation with him and the hope inside of her that always burned so strongly was barely flickering. Even at its strongest it was more desperation than hope. She wasn't ready to face that. Ellie shut off her phone completely.

She closed her eyes and drifted off, the breeze gently touching her skin. For an hour, it was peace and comfort. After that, Ellie was woken by unpleasant dreams and tossed and turned, rolled in thoughts for long periods before falling back to sleep each time. When morning came, she was more tired than when she had gone to sleep. It was all she could do to make herself get out of bed.

# PLEA FOR HELP

~ 25 ~

Ellie dragged herself out of bed. It was a cool morning, so she threw on some yoga pants and a cami, threw her hair up in a messy ponytail, grabbed a waffle and her dance gear and drove out to see Paige at the dance studio. Her eyes kept wanting to close on her. All of the unpleasant things she had been feeling seemed to have all morphed together into one merciless blah-feeling.

She pulled into the parking lot of the dance studio and went inside. Paige was busy moving boxes of programs for the upcoming recital. The woman seemed to have one speed: rushed.

"Ellie, good morning. Thanks for coming in today," Paige said, moving a couple more boxes before giving her full attention to the conversation.

"It's OK. Did you want to go over the schedule?" Ellie asked.

"Well, sort of, yes. As you know, we are coming to the end of our dance year. Now, normally, we would have two weeks off and then jump right into our camps and summer intensives. Due to some drop-off in the enrollment and my desire to do some traveling, I have decide to close for the entire summer," Paige explained.

Ellie stood there, wondering if she had heard correctly. Paige was closing for the summer, which would mean Ellie was out of a job for three months. Even during the recovery from her injury, while still in college, Ellie had maintained a twenty hour work week, with few exceptions. She also had the cemetery that she mowed, but that was extra and certainly not enough on its own. Now she had an apartment to support and living expenses. She couldn't be without a job for three months.

Normally she would not even worry about it. She would start looking for a new job right away and have one before the studio closed, but with all that was going on, she was really doubting her ability to do that. In reality, she didn't have a choice though.

"I understand. So a couple more weeks and I will resume in September?" Ellie asked.

"Yes, absolutely. In fact, you can come in the last couple of weeks in August and help me get ready for registration and the fall season," Paige said, happy to be able to offer that to Ellie.

"I do appreciate that." Ellie noticed that the dance rooms were all dark. Saturday was normally a big day for classes. "Paige, is there a change in today's schedule?"

"Oh, yes. I am sorry! Huge conflict, long story! Anyway, there aren't any classes today."

"All right, well I will see you Monday then," Ellie said, trying not to sound deflated.

"Actually," Paige corrected, "I have guest choreographers this week and I have Chloe working the desk until all of the melted chocolate is off of it, so I won't need you here until Thursday. I'll see you then, Ellie."

Before Ellie could say anything, Paige was back to moving boxes. Ellie left and decided to go grab a chai. A dose of Beth's positive attitude was exactly what Ellie needed. A little caffeine wouldn't hurt either, considering it was Saturday and Ellie had to mow the cemetery.

She drove up there and dragged her zombie-self into the coffee shop. Beth waved to her from across the cafe. She was waiting on customers. Being the weekend, it was a full house.

Ellie climbed onto a stool at the counter and laid her head down upon her elbow. She thought she only blinked but the next thing she knew Beth was standing in front of her, asking if she wanted a pillow to go with her chai.

"Oh, sorry, Beth. I didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night and I've been running on overdrive lately."

"Well, that's not good. How about I add a little extra caffeine to your chai this morning?" Beth asked, smiling.

"Yes, please."

Beth whipped her up a delicious chai latte with an added boost and topped it with whipped cream and nutmeg.

"Here you go, sweetie! I'd say go home and get some rest but after drinking that you won't be able to." Beth chuckled.

"Thanks, Beth. This looks amazing!" Ellie handed her the exact amount of cash for two drinks, plus a tip.

"Wait, wait, hun. You gave me too much," Beth said, extending some of the money toward Ellie.

"Nope, that's for last time, remember?"

Beth shook her head and smiled. "You are one honest kid. Now stop trying to save the world and go get some sleep...when that wears off." Beth wasn't far off in that analogy.

"I'll see you later," Ellie said. She took the cup and walked her weary self back to the Jeep. She took a few sips of the beverage before realizing she had left her keys inside. She placed the chai in the cup holder and went back into the coffee shop. Beth was standing behind the counter, dangling Ellie's keys from her finger.

Ellie walked over and got them, shyly saying, "Thanks, Beth."

As Ellie pushed the door open and stepped onto the sidewalk, a woman who was pre-occupied with her phone walked right into her. Ellie, caught off guard and tired, fell to the ground before catching herself. She quickly stood up and dusted herself off. Ellie said sorry out of habit, even though the woman had run into her. The lady had spilled coffee all over herself and her white silk blouse and was standing there distorting her face in ways that gave warning of what was to come. Ellie mentally braced herself.

"What have you done?!" the woman shrieked in disbelief. "How could you be so reckless?! Do you have any idea how much this shirt cost?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but you walked into me," Ellie said, politely, not wanting to fan the flames of an argument.

"Excuse me? How dare you speak to me like that! You ruin my shirt, you nearly give me third degree burns and you have the nerve to tell me this is MY fault?! the woman exclaimed.

It was so completely irrational and Ellie was so tired, she wasn't sure what to do. She just wanted to get back to her beautiful chai and go mow a lawn, where she was almost certain no one would speak to her.

"You come with me!" the woman snapped, grabbing Ellie's arm and yanking on it so she would follow. "We are going right over to the dry cleaner and you are going to give him the money to clean this shirt!"

Ellie pulled her arm away. Her eyes narrowed. She thought surely she was in the Twilight Zone. She wondered where on her skin-tight pants and cami top did the woman think Ellie was carrying money.

"I am sorry that you spilled coffee on yourself, but you knocked me down. You walked into me. Now if you'd like to take a ballet class, I can help you with that, but I am not going to be paying for your dry cleaning," Ellie said, the words coming from a place not familiar to her.

Just as the woman's expression reached new levels of contortion and she thrust her hand toward Ellie's arm again, a hand deflected the woman's reach.

"Whoa there. I would suggest you leave this girl alone. That isn't the way we handle things in this town," Jack said.

He had a short sleeved plaid shirt on and a loose-fitting pair of jeans. His pants and arms had some grease marks on them, though she suspected both had been washed. He looked like he had just crawled out from under an engine, but he was a welcome sight for Ellie.

"Young man, do not touch my hand. I will call the cops right this minute," she said, angrily.

"You do what you have to ma'am, but you will not touch this girl again. That isn't how we handle things," Jack repeated.

"You weren't here. You didn't see how this destructive, clumsy girl, who looks like she just crawled out of bed, attacked me. I have burns all over my body and my very expensive shirt is ruined," the woman argued, loudly.

Ellie knew her accusations were ridiculous and that the woman was either having a really bad day or was a pretty rotten human being, but it was getting to her. The words were reaching her, somehow. Ellie could feel each hurtful, angry syllable enter her consciousness and affect her mood, her confidence, her self image. She knew it made no sense and yet the words were reaching her.

A lady peeked her head out of the coffee shop door. She said she was sitting at the window table and saw everything. She vouched for Ellie, stating that the woman was looking at her phone and not at where she was going and she knocked Ellie down and spilled the coffee all over herself.

Ellie barely heard the words, the noises all blending together into a muted roar all around her and yet distant. She stood there half behind Jack, letting the people around her work it out, a heaviness growing in her chest.

"C'mon, Ellie. Let's go," Jack said. Ellie heard him sometime after the fact but felt herself walking, following his lead. He took her down the sidewalk a couple blocks and stopped at a bench, where he let her sit down. He stood there, with one foot on the bench, sizing up the area they just left. He leaned over his knee on both forearms and looked at Ellie.

"Every time I see you, I am rescuing you from some pretty bad situation where someone is not happy with you...and that's putting it lightly. These aren't situations I would expect you to even be in the vicinity of, let alone the middle of, from the way Ty described you. What's going on?" Jack asked, as if he knew her better than he did.

"It's a long story and a very strange week. Nothing like this or the other day has ever happened to me before, I swear," she said, feeling like she was in real time again.

Jack looked at her like he believed her but was trying to figure out the something that was missing. "All right, all right. Well, they seem to all be going their separate ways down there, so it should be all right to head back in a couple minutes," he said. "I figured it was probably best she didn't know which car was yours, you know?"

Ellie hadn't thought of that. She had been unclear in her thinking but not just in the way lack of sleep causes. It was more than that. She was thankful Jack happened to be there and step in on her behalf. Ellie really didn't want him to think this was how she usually was: helpless and air-headed.

"Thank you for rescuing me, again. Someday we are going to have to meet all over again, once this dark cloud over my head goes away."

"Don't worry about it. I just hope you're all right," Jack said. He walked Ellie to her Jeep and gave a quick wave as she drove off. He looked around once more to make sure the woman was no where in sight before getting back to his morning.

"What is going on?" Ellie said, right out loud to herself. The temperature had risen to seventy two degrees, but Ellie was cold. She sipped her chai, which brought some warmth to her body. Maybe mowing five acres would warm her up, she thought.

By the time she arrived at Well-Sweep Cemetery, Ellie was eager to do the work. Beth's caffeine shot was kicking in, the sun was shining brightly and she looked forward to have it beating down upon her. She also felt some hope when she entertained the thought that the Isolde-imposter might return.

She pulled the mower out, filled it with gas and began cutting the large parcel. Her legs felt weak, her heart was pounding. Thoughts from the day, yesterday, the week, flooded her mind. Images of the woman were so vivid, a couple of times she thought she had actually returned. If she could conjure it in her mind that realistically, she wondered if she really did see the woman in the first place. But how could Mira pick up on her if she didn't exist? She was something— whether Ellie actually saw her or not, she was something— she had relevance.

Every now and then Ellie's eyes would shoot over to the headstone in hopes that she was there, transparent and flowing. There were answers she needed that she just wasn't finding on her own. Each time she glanced, she saw only the stone and the oak and the place her life changed, a life she wanted back.

Almost six hours later, Ellie was finished. She peered out over the acreage, giving it just one more minute before she let the idea go and drove back to her cottage. She did her best to ignore the fact that she was feeling awful; it wasn't a sick-awful and not entirely a tried-awful and it continued to morph. There was no rhyme or reason to it.

When she got back to the cottage, she went into her room to charge her phone. As she passed the nightgown, an emptiness overtook her. Suddenly it felt like she was screaming from the inside, but on the outside she couldn't make a sound; she was petrified with fear. A loud bang went off. She ran to the window to see what it was, but there was nothing there. It had sounded too close to be further than her own yard. She knew she had heard a bang...or did she? She couldn't tell what was accurate anymore.

Ellie felt the air thinning and her breathing becoming more labored. She was pale and her legs barely supported her. She felt herself tensing, terrified that she was going to feel something knock the wind out of her again or feel intense pain; she silently pleaded for it not to.

Ellie leapt toward her desk, grabbing a notebook and pen and falling to her knees. She opened the notebook to a blank page and, leaning over it, began to write furiously.

I am sorry. If you find this, I did not get to tell you in person. I swear it was not for keeping it from you. It is the day after Scotlyn and Trent told me they got engaged. I didn't want to ruin your moment.

I don't know what is happening to me. Since I met the woman who called herself Arelyth, I have felt uneasy, sometimes tired or queasy, sometimes dizzy. It became blackouts and pain, then urgency and fear. Now, I feel intense emptiness, terror and sensations that I cannot describe; those are the ones that scare me the most.

So many things have happened in the past week. It might seem like a string of bad luck but their intensity and foreignness lead me to believe they, too, are related to Isolde and the unknown woman.

Mira warned me to be careful. She said what she felt was not pleasant and I think she was putting it mildly to not scare me. I think I am beginning to understand what she meant, though trapped in this mystery that I do not understand. I do not understand what I am supposed to do, or how. If I did, I would do it. I do not understand my part in this, or why it is creating such a nightmare inside me— body and mind.

Forgive me if anything happens to me before I figure this all out. At this moment, I feel truly threatened and in danger. I don't know what is happening. I need to make sure you know how much I appreciate what you all tried to do for me. Thank you for standing by me through something so entirely unbelievable. You are the greatest friends ever. Make sure my parents and Bryar understand what happened, at least in as much as we do. I hope I never have to hurt you all in the way this letter suggests I will. It is just incase. I just wanted someone to know what is happening. Just incase.

Ellie folded the letter in three and placed it in an envelope. She stood and as she left the room, she caught a glimpse of the journal. As she glanced back at the letter in her hand, chills ran up her spine, but she had to follow through on this one.

Ellie got in her Jeep and drove to the lake. She parked a few blocks away, which for the summer, was close. She wanted to jog, she wanted to run, but she felt like her legs would collapse. When she reached the break in the trees, she walked down the path that led to the lake.

There was a secret place in the woods that surrounded the lake, that was located on the east side. It was the least utilized side of the lake due to the fact that it was almost always muddy and much of the vegetation that grew there was covered in thorns or prickers. Ellie and Scotlyn had discovered when they were kids that if you made it through all of that, there was a beautiful section in the center, where the trees were shorter and less dense and opened up to the beautiful sky above. Wildflowers grew and butterflies, dragonflies and hummingbirds were everywhere. There were large boulders to sit on and even some grass grew in there. It was a magical place that only they used and it continued to be their place all the way into the present, though as adults, their visits were few.

In this place there were three small stones, under which Ellie and Scotlyn had a wooden box buried. They used to exchange messages in it and use it in games of their imagination. The moment Ellie finished writing the letter, she got the impulse to bring it there. Scotlyn would find it there and that was the way Ellie justified the feeling to hide it there. No one would find it prematurely, but if it needed to be found, it would be and by the right person.

The lake was shimmering in the sunlight and all around it people enjoyed the day. Ellie rushed past it and into the woods on the east side. It did not disappoint. There was mud throughout the lower, shady sections and Ellie needed to cross through it to get to where she was going. It didn't matter that it hadn't rained in several days, as there was other run off that made its way down the hill and to that very section.

Ellie walked carefully, running a fine line between getting to their place quickly and not getting completely covered in mud. Even as such, by the time she had made her way through it, her sneakers were covered and the cuffs of her pants as well.

Next, she carefully maneuvered through the thick, prickly overgrowth. Feeling worse than before, the sense of urgency returning full force, Ellie forced her way through as fast as was possible, suffering the infliction of a couple dozen small scratches, mainly on her arms and hands.

Finally clearing the overgrowth, she hiked up the steep slope and through the various topography before arriving at the clearing. Ellie went directly for the three stones, moving them and digging through the soil under them with a sharp rock she found laying on the ground nearby. She dug and dug until, about six inches down, she uncovered the top of the wooden box. Ellie carved out the dirt around it until it was loose enough for her to remove. She felt the slightest bit of relief as she held the box in her hands.

Ellie, kneeling there on the ground, placed the box on her lap. She opened the tiny latch and lifted the lid so she could place her letter inside, but—there was something already inside. Ellie took it out to see that it was a piece of paper, folded in half. Ellie unfolded the paper and gasped. On it was written her words— her exact words that she just wrote in the letter she had brought to bury. The handwriting was very different on the other letter, but it read identically.

Ellie's hand trembled and the pressure in her chest returned. She dropped the box, leaving both letters on the ground with the box and its hiding place, exposed. She ran. She ran despite the feeling that her legs would momentarily give out on her. Ellie just ran and as fast as she could down the slope and through the prickers and across the mud. Covered in dirt and mud, wearing the blood of a hundred tiny scratches on her face and arms and hands, she ran past the lake and up the path back to her Jeep. She jumped in the vehicle and sped to the cemetery.

Ellie pulled into Well-Sweep Cemetery way too fast and slammed on the brakes just before skidding into the gate. She leaped out and ran to the oak tree where Isolde's marker was and where she had seen the ghostly woman last Saturday.

Ellie sat on the ground, right where she had last weekend. As she spoke the name Arelyth, her voice cracked and the tears finally broke free.

"Arelyth, please! I know you said I am the only one that can save you, but I feel like I am the one dying. Please, PLEASE, I don't know what I have to do. Help me, Arelyth. Please, help me!" Ellie cried out loud.

She stared at the name that Tyler had unburied and the words of the poem above it. Then she closed her eyes tightly and remembered the appearance of Arelyth, every detail she could from start to finish. Her fists were clenched so tightly, blood barely reached her fingers and tears fell onto the freshly cut blades of grass.

Ellie continued pleading silently, repeating her request with growing desperation and power, until her phone shattered the silence of her plea. It was Tyler. She couldn't do it alone; she was terrified she would not even make it home. Ellie had to answer. She needed him.

"Ellie?" Tyler said, calling her to see how things were going.

"Ty?" With that one word he could hear all she did not say.

"Ellie where are you?" Tyler asked, forcefully.

"Well-Sweep. Ty..." Ellie stood up, her breathing heavy, her words weak.

"I'm on my way. Ellie, what has happened?"

"It was already there..."

"What was where?" Tyler asked, insistently.

Ellie screamed and then there was silence.

"Ellie? Ellie! Ellllllllliiiiiieeee!!"

Tyler floored it, his voice still coming through Ellie's cell phone, which lay on the ground, unheld, at Well-Sweep Cemetery.

Get the next book in the series to continue the journey!

Available NOW!

# ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ADELINE BLUE discovered her talent for writing when she was about 10 years old, though for many years it was poetry and short stories and usually just an outlet for dealing with difficult things. Her greatest proclivity has always been for chasing shiny objects, which has led her though a variety of interests: juggling and magic, gymnastics, video production, acting, dance, sports, drawing, as well as an extensive list of projects and ventures...and all with very little coffee! But writing a book was always something she knew she would do one day.

Adeline loves a fairy-tale romance and that happily-ever-after, but she also likes to explore the extremes and subtleties of human emotion through her characters. She is intrigued by sci-fi, fantasy, paranormal and quantum physics. Forever imagining stories and creating worlds in her mind, she finally found a way to sit still long enough to pen The Entanglement Series: Eidolon, Twice Be and Entangled.

A life-long resident of New Jersey, Adeline is working on her next books, when she isn't seeking out ice cream or falling down the rabbit hole of her imagination.

