An electric knot of anxiety clutched me from my chest to my stomach as I sat down on our aunts old couch, and Jake came into the room seconds later. It seemed that our aunt had chosen that particular moment to have a few choice words with Chris, and the whole situation felt like a really bad therapy session involving relived nightmares and the worst things your childhood had cooked up.

Jake came over to sit beside me, patting my knee and glancing at me knowingly for the briefest second before choosing a spot on the rug to stare at.

"I mean, what did you expect? I told you they were coming!" Aunt Gigis voice sounded faintly.

I picked at the pair of jeans I was wearing, trying to block the shouting, the crying, ten years of never knowing, asking why, battling a losing battle, my pain, that night. Because if I didn't, I was at risk of triggering a fight or flight response that even Jake couldn't help me from.

"Ah, well, sorry about that," Our aunt said, making me jump. She walked over to the loveseat across from us and sat down. "So... Jake, Reagan. How've you been? It's been what, 2 years since I've seen you?"

Jake cringed uncomfortably beside me, and I knew he must've been remembering too. I took a settling breath and stared into the face of our aunt. Once, she might've looked like our mother. The same blue eyes, black hair, hell, their noses had even shared the same careful shape. I had once stared at her and thought, if I couldn't ever see my mother, at least I wouldn't lose her. But in that moment, staring at her now, she was changed. Wrinkles distorted the once familiar nose. Her eyes had somehow managed to lose their brightness and faded, and her expression had aged, hardened.

"Yes. Two years." I finally let out shakily.

"Yes, well..." Our aunt cleared her throat and then went on. "I, uh, don't suppose you got the gift I sent you? When you did finally send me your address?"

I held back venom at the underlying implication of her choice words and replied, "Yes, we did, thank you."

"Reagan's put it out every year. We use it to hang our coats. We don't have a coat closet, so it was a very thoughtful gift..." Jake piped up helpfully.

Aunt Gigi gave an almost inquisitive smile before responding. "Oh. That's nice."

She looked down and began tapping her hands together. The uncomfortable silence made the already horribly awkward tension even worse, and as though Jake had aged overnight to mature more than me, he spoke up again.

"Gigi, how is Grams?"

"Pardon?" She looked affronted that he'd addressed her in that way.

"How is she?" He pressed. "Reagan got a call, said she was sick, that we had to come down here. Did you know about this?"

Aunt Gigi mumbled something unintelligible so quietly that I couldn't make out what she'd said, but her cheeks flushed slightly red. After a moment, she composed herself.

"Of course I didn't. Who do you think I am? You think I wouldn't look after my own mother?" She retorted haughtily.

Jake's eyes constricted ever so slightly, but he didn't answer her. Instead, he shot me the side eye that I hadn't seen for years. The 'we need to talk alone' look. I quickly nodded once and then turned my face back to my aunt, who was now opening her mouth furiously.

"Moreover, you think if I'd known, I wouldn't tell you two? Honestly! You act as if I'm some kind of monster! Avoid my calls, decline visits, speak to me as if I'm a good for nothing stranger! It isn't my fault!" She spat, suddenly standing up, glaring at us as her lips trembled and pointing a finger at us as she shook. "I was the one who raised you! Me! You think... you think anyone else would've given you all of this? Hm? No! It would've been an orphanage if it hadnt've been for me!"

"Or Grams," I said quietly. I sighed, stood up, and then went on. "Look, we came here to see Grams, not rehash old shit, ok? Now, is she ok? What do you know?"

Aunt Gigi pursed her lips, put her hands on her hips, and huffed. "Fine. You want to know what I know? Fine. Y- you know, honestly, Reagan, just because you're eighteen now, you think you two can just waltz in here and-"

"Oh, so you remember how old I am?" I snapped, losing it.

"Reag, calm down."

He had spoken so calmly, so softly, and that was enough. The heat of the argument was lost entirely. When I heard those words, I wasn't hearing my teen brother, I was back in our childhood room, listening to my kid brother trying to soothe me after another of Chris's drunken tirades. I turned to Jake, shaken. Watching him hold my gaze steadily in the living room at this moment, holding my wrist tightly as if to hold me back, caught me off my guard and made me realize I'd been about to lunge across the room into Gigis face. I took in air to calm myself, but there was a pit deep in my stomach.

"Can we have a minute alone?" Jake asked, turning to our aunt.

She looked at, flabbergasted, and scoffed as she stormed away, leaving us with the living room to ourselves. Jake faced me, a stern look on his face.

I inhaled deeply and sighed in remorse. "Ok, look, I know I-"

"She's lying." He said the words flatly, yet his lips were thin with repressed anger.

"You-" I lowered my voice to a whisper. "You used your gift?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Well, she knows more than she's saying, that's for sure." He said in an agitated murmur.

I gasped in shock and then sat back down. "So... have you figured out how this... thing you do works, then?"

Jake sat beside me again and shook his head. "Not entirely. I'm trying, but it's..."

"New. I get it."

"Yeah."

"Ok, so we just have to... what? Agitate her until she tells the truth?" I asked.

"No," Jake bit his lip. "I don't think that's going to work. Whatever she's hiding, she isn't ashamed of it, or that she's hiding it."

"Ok," I replied, confused. "So what do you think?"

"I think you were right. You shouldn't have lost it on her like that. However, I'm willing to overlook that if you're buying lunch." He smirked.

"Jake!" I groaned but grinned slightly back.

We got up, walking out of the living room in search of Gigi and Chris, and finally found Gigi huddled in the kitchen at the same dining table where many a fight had taken place. She looked up with a scowl at our entrance, but made no movement as we approached her.

"I'm, um, sorry," I said.

"Mhm." Was her only response.

"I was just-"

"If you've come to blame me for your childhood some more, have at it. I long ago accepted that you two were just as stubborn and hotheaded as your father. Your mother never would have spoken to anyone like that." She muttered darkly.

"How could you?" Jake suddenly cried out, sounding on the brink of tears.

"Jake?" I grabbed his shoulder in concern.

"Ten years!" He shouted, his eyes now fully watering. "Ten! And not once, once, did you tell us anything about our mom and dad! No, let me go, Reagan!"

He shook me off as I tried to grab him gently, and I let him go as he sniffled and composed himself. Gigi was staring at him as though she didn't know him, and her eyes went from reserved to angry.

"My sister," She snarled in a breath. "Was a maniac, working with things like the occult! You want to know about your mother and father? Well so did alot of people! Crazy people! Coming to me and asking questions! Have I seen Timothy Cobblestone, could I please tell them where they could find him! I'd had enough! I finally said, no more! I wanted out! And then you two show up, and our mother suddenly wants full custody? Over my dead body! She would've just subjected you two to more of their madness!"

She was now on her feet again, breathing heavily, and her face had all the signs of having given away more than she'd meant to.

"So that's why you won't let us see Grams?" Jake asked quietly. "She's dying, and yet you think she's crazy too? She's our grandmother and she's dying!"

"Jake-" I yelped, my heart flitting far too fast for its own good.

"OH, ENOUGH!" Gigi shrieked. "YES, OK? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR? YES! SHE WAS ALWAYS JUST THE SAME, A MAD WOMAN! AND I PUT HER IN THAT HOME TO GET RID OF HE-"

The audible gasps shot out of all three of us, but none looked more shocked than Jake. His breaths were shaky and fast, his face pale and drawn as though he were sick again for the first time since Toto.

"Jake, co- come on, ok? Let's get you something to eat, yeah?" I choked back my own tears, the rage and shock only overpowered by the more pressing matter of Jake suddenly taking ill again.

"I'm... tired," He replied softly. "I... I want to lie down."

"Ok." I said instantly. "We'll find a hotel. There are some nearby, aren't there?" I shot at Gigi as I pulled Jake from the room.

"Guys, c- come now, there's no need for a hotel room! This was just a family disagreement! It happens all the time, there's no reason to leave!" She whimpered pathetically.

"Fine. We'll find one on our own. Jake, we're leaving." I growled, helping Jake out of the house and back to the rental car.

When we reached a promising hotel, I pulled in, the silence after turning the cars engine off extremely loud after the silent car ride. I looked to Jake, whose head was against the passenger window, his face withdrawn and distant now, his eyes closed. I unbuckled, and the noise seemed to shock him out of his dissociation. He woke with a start, and then looked at me.

"We don't have to talk about it." I told him gently.

"But we will. We need to." He said, giving me an appreciative smile. "Where are we?"

"Uh..." I searched for a name, finally spotting the hotels large sign at the entrance. "A place called Hilton, apparently."

Jake laughed. "I believe I've heard of them."

"Yeah," I chuckled.

We got out of the car, heading inside. After checking in to the hotel, we grabbed our bags from the car and dashed back in to avoid the rain that had now started outside. When we reached our room, I let Jake have the honors of swiping the card, and then we went in. The room was pricey, but thanks to the leftover money from Gigi and the plane tickets, we wouldn't be sleeping in the car tonight.

I took in the room and all its corporate vibes, and tried not laugh when thinking about what Stephan would say if he saw us in a place like this. The carpets were green, the walls were green, and the beds? Green. I sat down on the bed closest to the window, staring out at the sheet of rain.

"Hey, how many people do you think have slept on these things?" I asked as Jake put his bag down and looked around.

"Probably too many," He said distractedly before sitting on the bed beside mine. "So..."

"So..."

"I don't know how I did it, Reagan." He finally admitted, his eyes confused and tired.

I shifted on the bed so that we were facing each other, and crossed my legs. "But... you must have some idea, no? Some... understanding of how this thing works?"

He shook his head.

"Ok, so... did this all start-"

"With him?" He finished.

I felt a cold chill rush through my body, and shook, while nodding.

"Yes. I think so."

"Do you think... he did something to you, like you thought he did to me?"

"Maybe? I don't know. All I know is, I think this was there before all that. It's like mom and dad said, Reagan, we were born with these gifts."

"And you... don't know how to work it, but you think it's always been there?" I questioned.

He nodded. "Ever since I can remember, people have always seemed to just... trust me. Open up to me. I thought it was just because, I don't know, I've got a trustworthy face. But..."

"It was the gift?" I guessed.

"Yes, I think so. And I think mom and dad knew about it, and tried to warn Grams and Gigi and Chris, maybe from day one. But, of course..."

"They didn't listen." I finished sardonicly.

Jake stood up and started pacing, his brows furrowed as he worried. After a minute, I stood up too, looking for the phone to call room service.

"You want anything?" I asked as he continued to pace.

He was chewing the nails of his left hand, and his breathing was more like trembling. I reached out, grabbing his right hand to catch it as he made a turn toward his bed again.

It happened so fast that I jerked my hand away in response. A piercing ring went into the center of my head from my ears, and an electric jolt shot through me. Jake froze as we both stared at each other silently. When neither of us broke the silence, and the ringing had faded from my ears, a bolt of lightning cracked across the hotel rooms floor, and the thunder rumbled right after it.

After gathering up my courage, I spoke.

"D- did you do that?"

He shook his head. "No. I swear."

"What-"

Before I knew what he was doing, Jake darted to my side and grabbed my hands. "Jake! What're you- OW!"

The electricity jolted through me again, as if touching someone after rubbing socks on a carpet or rug. A painful shock of static that was unpleasant at best, and painful at worst. The ringing sounded in my ears again, but Jake refused to let go. For a second, there was nothing but static and ringing. And then, as if an old TV had finally powered on, I could feel. Not just my own emotions, but Jake's. His anxiety had somehow become entwined with my own, and I could sense both his feelings and mine. And I could feel not only that, but his insecure uncertainty, some kind of hidden doubt, blurred around the edges of-

This time, Jake jerked his hands out of mine with a sharp gasp. We were both taking deep, steadying breaths, neither of us knowing what to say or do.

"Did you- did you feel that?" I hyperventilated. "That! It was- it was like I was inside you or something! I could feel what you were feeling!"

"I know," He choked out shakily. "I saw someone, Reagan! Standing behind you, j- just fuckimg hovering, and her face, sh- she was fucking- was she dead?! W- wh- what the fuck was that!"

I spun around instantly, but what I saw wasn't an empty space with a wall and a painting. It was the woman. The same woman with the dark brown hair. And her mouth was open in a silent scream.