Adam stops on the side of the just a few blocks from school to sling his backpack onto a garden wall and take out a piece of paper. His dark circles intensify his glare, and I back up a little, but ask, slowly, "What's that?"

He thrusts the paper out to me. "You have English with Evan Drake, right? I need you to give this to him."

"Yes...?" I ask. "This seems a little old fashioned. Did he block you? Can't you... you know, talk?"

"That's all part of my cryptic, mysterious backstory, Will." Adam says dully as I stare down at the envelope, lips pursed. "Don't even think about opening it."

I narrow my eyes. "No problem. Call me up next time you want a carrier pigeon."

Adam is already disappearing into the crowds. The Adam I knew (what, before this school year?) at least put up a facade of interest, but this man is a stranger with a dull face, and he cleaves crowds like butter.

My phone buzzes, so I pick it up and receive my mom's daily message. Did you and your brother make it to school okay?

We're fine, mom! I say, topping it off with a smile which hopefully reads as more genuine than sarcastic. There haven't been disappearances for a while now, long enough for the public to calm, but coverage continues and only one body, with no real leads to show for it, has been found. While it's only ever been adults, my mom's concern over the events has been compounded by Adam's emotional state.

The first bell rings, signalling five minutes before we'll be called tardy. People continue to rush by around me as I veer to the side of the halls, invisible and thankful for it. I close my eyes, resenting myself, and find two pieces of paper inside. The first one is written on notebook paper: Stay out of my business, Will. I roll my eyes and crumple it up, ignoring the quick uptick in my heartbeat as I open the other: There has to be some way for me to reach you.

Is this evidence for my brother being involved, somehow, in all the chaos my life has become? Against it? I can taste smoke in my throat, the forewarning of the psychic grip of secrecy. No matter what the truth is, I don't know if I'd be able to reach him. I don't even know if I'd want to.

Another bell rings: I run for class.

The day is boring enough that I'm looking forwards to giving Evan the letter (say nothing of a later meeting in the Veins, that's mainly fear, not anticipation). All that excitement drains when I'm in the room, sitting next to him, and Shiloh is of no help. Evan is everything that intimidates me about my brother turned up to eleven, including an air of disinterest, bags beneath his eyes black as soot, and a perpetual snarl. He also possesses a set of headphones that the teacher hasn't called him on and looks like he couldn't care less about the class if he tried.

He looks like a different person now. I try easing up to him throughout class, to almost no reaction, and with a glance towards the clock I realize I'm running out of time. Taking a breath to steady myself, I slide the paper onto his desk.

He takes both headphones out and his left eye twitches. I see something play at his mouth, and then, after eying the teacher, he looks back to me, apparently incapable of speech.

"It's from Adam." I say.

Evan opens the envelope and reads the letter in one quick sweep of the page. "You look too much like him," mutters Evan, averting his eyes. His hands twitch on the table. He looks at the teacher again. The room is abuzz with noise- we're supposed to be working on something- but he's coming around.

"What is up with you? Are you exes?" I ask.

"Back off," Evan tries to pull his hoodie around himself.

This really is like talking to Adam.

"Please," chokes Evan.

At that moment, the teacher comes around with papers. "And it looks like you two will be paired up for the project as well. In the future, please try to pay attention, alright?"

"Sorry," I whisper, catching a flash of Evan's middle finger from under the desk. When our teacher returns to the corner, idly sitting down at the computer, I say, "Look. I know you don't trust me. I know I have no part in all this, but this is the first time my brother has so much as looked my way all month. This is important. You must be important to him."

Evan's breath is labored. "We should get working on that project. Can you... open a document?" He pulls out his school-ordered laptop, which is beaten up as he is, and ducks his head, trying far too hard to appear invested.

There is no way this isn't something unnatural.

The bell rings moments later, leaving our untitled, unnamed document about Romeo and Juliet (this is going to be a fun project for the two of us, let me tell you) barren as it will remain until we inevitably fail the project. That isn't to say today has been a total bust- as he walks out of the classroom, he takes the note.

I slip into the Veins without Amanda. It's a Naval Brigade day, but I can't distract myself any longer, nor do I think I can stand another day of that classroom, filled with muttering but without any of the vivacious conversation that once characterized it, of all the questions I get asked about the brother who won't talk to me, won't confide in me, and looks at me like he wishes I was dead.

I walk in to find Garrett caught in Karen's arm. She's standing on the tips of her toes, or perhaps he's bending, but the two of them are engrossed in a passionate kiss. They don't stop when I enter, or for half of a minute, and when Karen draws back Garrett is so red you can hardly see the developing acne on his face. Karen wipes her lips and mutters beneath her breath. When she turns, dark, curled locks bouncing, she steps away from Garrett.

"Damnit, Will."

I search for something to say, but Karen strides over and puts a hand on my shoulder, running it down my arm. "There's no one for you to tell," she says, "Glad you came back, though. We've been doing all the stressing for you, given that you and Amanda are mourning."

"Yeah. Stressing." Garrett says, scratching his head. He lets out a nervous laugh. "And that. F-first kiss."

"Unsurprising," Karen mumbles. "Not that you're half bad, but you're not half good, either."

Garrett's face goes from scarlet to almost plum. I think he might be about to pass out from lack of oxygen.

"We've been going over what you got from Shiloh, best ways to beat Ignatius, what that map means... sent in that anonymous tip, hasn't come up on the news, no doubt because the civilian population is still panicking about the missing persons incident. Not to be rude, but if you have the time, I think you should ask him what the point of my powers are, anyways." Karen's hands crackle.

"That's a lot," I say. "Sorry, Karen, sounds like I've missed a bit. Thank you for covering for us, and as for 'the point', I think powers might be inherent." I lift the moon shield. "It would explain a lot."

Karen shakes her head. "Then why choose me? You're practically Shiloh's boy scout, Garrett has an insanely useful power, and Amanda is a beast. The three of you would be able to cover fine without me, and it cuts another person out of the loop."

"She's been like this," Garrett offers.

"Are you trying to reason yourself out of this?" I ask.

Karen grits her teeth, sucking in a breath, and then decides, "No. I think I have to be missing something, and honest, I' a little desperate. It's harder than you think to make this plans, especially when we have no clue what power Ignatius actually lost. I wish Shiloh could be a little more upfront about all this, seeing as he's been a little useless without you."

"You don't need to talk about me. I'm right here." Shiloh says, leaping down from the bannister. He hits the floor and keeps walking, with only a bounce of his ears and tails to indicate the fifteen-foot fall. "You don't trust me, Karen. I have offered assistance. It has fallen on deaf ears. I don't see what's so difficult about this."

Karen looks to me, instead. "Are we going to try again?"

"It might be a week before we can, but before we even consider handing our Diosite over-" As Shiloh's fur ruffles, I add, "Not that we would, but as a kind of ploy, we could come in... I say we give this one last shot. I also have... other things I might want to try."

"For some reason, I'm guessing running this all the way up against the 'time limit' miiiight be risky." she says, with deliberate use of air quotes. "And we can't do this without Amanda."

"I know this is tough but you have to trust me." I exchange a glance with Shiloh, who is unusually unemotive. 

"Are we trusting you, though?" asks Karen, arms folded. 

Shiloh's tail flicks.

"Yes," I say.

"And you have a plan."

"Absolutely."

Karen looks to Garrett, who slowly shakes his head. "Will," Karen mutters. "One last try."

I don't need Shiloh's dubious telepathic powers to tell me that she means it.