Chapter 17

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will put this behind her and move on."

"You didn't move on, though."

"No. I could not. But my circumstances were different than Chrissy's. It was my family that was murdered."

Maybe it was impossible to move on from that. Maybe something that traumatic had to define your life.

"Aunt Helen was convinced that I could put it behind me," he said. "She suggested I visualize a compartment in my mind to contain the memory, where I could seal it up forever. The idea sounded silly to me."

"I think it makes sense. Once Vigo is dead, you can move on. You can have a fresh start."

"I am too old for a fresh start. I will soon be nineteen. That isn't young in my world."

It was true. Life expectancy in Otherworld was low — what I would consider middle-aged — a result of the many stresses of living in a society dominated by vampires. That, and the fact that their medical technology hadn't advanced since the vampires came.

"You still have time to build a good life when you get back," I said.

I meant it, but the thought of him leaving this world — my world — was impossibly painful.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

WHEN I EMERGED FROM my room the next morning, I couldn't believe my eyes: Dad was next to Chrissy on the couch, and she was snuggled into his side. They were watching Two and a Half Men reruns.

Mom was in the kitchen doing dishes. When she saw me, she wiped her hands on a dish towel and hugged me tightly, as though she hadn't seen me in months. "I need to show you something, Amy."

I followed her into her bedroom. She closed the door and put on the news. A press conference that had taken place earlier this morning was on. The police chief was taking questions.

A reporter asked, "How do you respond to people who say your department is making up this wild explanation because you can't find the killer?"

"I'd say they should take a look at the evidence," Chief Arland said. "This was the last conclusion we expected to come to, but the evidence is clear. We believe a real vampire is terrorizing our city."

The truth was out. Finally.

Without warning, photos of the victims' wounds came on the screen. I had to look away.

The press conference continued with more questions for Chief Arland. Then it was back to Roger Thompson in the newsroom with a panel of experts via satellite.

"There have been conflicting reports of what was actually found in this man's hideout," Thompson said. "Detective Gaston, what can you tell us about that?"

"Well, Roger, the police have confirmed that two bodies were found in the hideout along with several bottles of blood. Forensics is checking if that blood came from the current victims or if it was saved from previous victims."

Vigo's Facebook photograph flashed onto the screen.

"What exactly do we know about this man?" Thompson asked another guest, a retired FBI agent from Virginia.

"Very little, unfortunately. He claimed to be a seventeen-year-old student at a local high school, but that hasn't checked out. We don't know his age, where he comes from, or his real name. I'm sure investigators will be using facial detection software. Right now, they're appealing to the public to help identify him."

"You're saying that we have absolutely no leads on this guy?" Thompson asked.

"It appears that way."

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