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We gathered at the school and Stiles immediately asked, "Where is she?"

"Over here," Allison and I answered.

"Lydia?"

Lydia turned to Stiles. "It's the same thing. Same thing as the pool. I got into the car heading somewhere totally different, and ended up here. And you told me to call you if there's a dead body."

"You found a dead body?"

"Not yet."

""Not yet"? What do you mean "not yet"? Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body."

"Oh, no, I'm not doing that again. You find the dead body from now on."

"How are we supposed to find the dead body? You're always the one finding the dead body."

I shot him a look. "Stiles, enough."

"Guys," Scott called. "I found the dead body."

"Excuse me," Sheriff called. "Hey! Hey, hey, hey. Back it up. I know what you're thinking. I know you and Eliana have got all these ideas about patterns and people dying in threes..."

"Dad, murdered, okay? Sacrificed, actually," Stiles corrected.

Dad frowned. "We've got half the state, including the FBI, coming in on this. They're not gonna get away with killing one of our own."

"Mr. Hart, they killed Tara. You two know, how many times did she help me with my math homework when I had to wait at the station for you?"

I glanced at my dad. "Tara's dead? Dad... She read stories to me to help me escape Lucille's torment."

Stiles gave me a quick hug as Sheriff said, "Just, uh, get to class, okay?"

Stiles and I made our way to Ms. Blake's class and she started her lesson. "Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes, all tools the writer uses to tell their story." She stopped in front of Lydia's desk. "Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents."

"You and every guy I've ever dated," Lydia said.

"Oh, um, well, that was an idiom, by the way. Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture. They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words. Saying "jump the gun" is meaningful only if you know about the starting gun in a race, or a phrase like "seeing the whole board.""

"Like chess," Stiles noted.

"That's right, Stiles. Do you play?"

"Uh, no. My father does."

"Now, when does an idiom become a cliché?"

Scott glanced between me and Stiles. "I think I can get to Ethan. I'm pretty sure I can make him talk."

Stiles frowned. "What do you want to do that for?"

"The druids are emissaries, right? So what if the Darach was an emissary to the alphas?"

I shook my head. "Great thoughts, wrong conclusion, Scotto."

Stiles glanced at Scott. "Okay, first of all, I cannot believe that we've gotten to the point where a sentence like "what if the Darach was an emissary to the alphas?" actually makes sense to us. Second of all, we're gonna have a huge problem getting to Ethan."

"What's that?" Scott wondered.

"Going through Aiden."

I tapped my desk softly. "I may have a solution for that."

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