Chapter One

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It's three a.m. when she woke up, startled and sweating, listening to Nora's easy breathing from the bed beside her.

It's raining, she noticed. It's thundering, lightning is soon to follow, and she just had another nightmare.

She tried to convince herself the elemental noises induced her panic-driven sleep state, but the effort is fruitless. She knew the real issue; she knew it's guilt. Her family had forgiven her, but she had yet to do so herself.

She sat up in bed and glanced over at her younger sister, moving her hair away from the back of her overheated neck and exhaling. Her eyes travelled over the dark room, trying to toss the image of Dark Mayhem's jail cell out of her brain. It was prominent, the lack of light aiding in her torment. A clap of thunder sounded and she jumped, body tensing. Her mind was going a mile a minute, and she knew her worries wouldn't cease until she went and checked on the rest of her family.

She lifted her covers back and swung her legs around to the side of her bed, quietly padding toward the door. She paused briefly to look at herself in the mirror—and, truly, she did know she was hallucinating, but she could have sworn her eyes glowed red for a moment. She quickly opened the door and ducked out of her bedroom, shutting it behind her soundlessly.

She was greeted by a dark corridor, doing nothing to help her already-deteriorating mental state. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she opened the door directly across from her own bedroom. Billy was in his bed, still breathing, but her own twin was missing from the room. She knew that was nothing out of the ordinary; for as long as they'd been alive he was a night owl. Even so, the knowledge didn't stop her heart from skipping a few beats.

The next room showed Chloe on the floor, apparently having fallen asleep while playing with toys she'd brought from home. She found herself wondering how many of them Chloe had forgotten and teleported back to Hiddenville for. The thought made her lips spread, heart slowing back down a bit.

The last door she opened revealed her father snoring, as well as her mother tucked underneath her husband's arm. The sight was relieving. Now she just had to find her twin and then maybe—maybe—she'd be able to get back to sleep.

Maybe.

The last door led to the bathroom, which she opened with caution. The lights were out and the space was vacant. Onto the open kitchen and living room next.

Her eyes instantly found him, tousled hair floating above the sofa. Her mind calmed down, any worrisome possibilities leaving her. She looked onward, into the kitchen and behind the island, stopping on the slightly ajar cupboard. She walked over and fully opened it, almost immediately noticing what was missing; exactly what she always craved whenever she woke up with a headache. Exactly what he always craved whenever he woke up with a headache.

The television was turned on, and only as she got closer did she realize there was a cartoon channel playing. Either he was asleep or her footsteps were a lot quieter than she thought, because he didn't turn to face his sister and ask her to stop creeping around or attempt to act like he wasn't focusing on a cartoon show.

She stopped right behind the couch and wondered if maybe she really should just go back to sleep. The sane part of herself knew that would be practically impossible, and the longing part of her knew sitting down and eating Oreos while watching cartoons was an experience she desperately wanted and needed at that moment.

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