“Do you … have an older sister?”

There's nothing random about that question. Did Jayce tell her something? He's got no reason to tell her anything about Saytarnia but how else would she know? Unless she heard about her from Judy. But when? They haven't really had a chance to talk since we got here.

Satara waited for the flurry of feelings to pass her features before she turned around to face Melissa with the least menacing expression she could manage. “What?”

“Sorry. I know it's weird and basically impossible.” The other girl arranged her clothes along her arms with a low chuckle. “Even if you did have one, what are the chances of me ever meeting her?”

It's more possible than you think. I used to live here after all.

“Why would you think the person you met is my sister?” she asked carefully.

“Because you look almost exactly the same. Except she was taller.” Melissa raised a well meaning hand. “No offence. It's probably because I was a kid back then.”

“She looked like me?”

“Yeah, and your brother downstairs. But a lot more like you.” Though she lowered her pyjama laden arms, the faint wall behind her stare remained in place. “She didn't kill anyone though.”

Neither have I. Satara scraped her thumbnail down the inner side of her backpack strap. “What did she do then?”

“Wait, so you do have a sister?” The hopeful lilt to Melissa's question gave way to a dissatisfied smile. “You're not going to tell me anything, are you? Just like Jay. And Judy.”

“Why should I?”

“I gave you a place to stay, didn't I? And asked my mum to keep everything a secret.” Melissa threw her clothes onto her bed. “Isn't that enough?”

“No.”

“Then what do I have to do to get you guys to trust me?” She approached Satara, a hand placed on her chest. “I literally have no friends. I mean, I do have friends but just the type you talk about school stuff with. Homework, people we hate, that kind of stuff. You know how it is.”

No, I don't. Both the hum of the high school canteen and the smooth screen of her mobile phone beneath her fingertips seemed a thousand years away. Girls her own age talking all around her. The cheesy scent of pizza and pasta mixed with the smell of various chocolate bars and crisps. The short lived entertainment provided by Jason's intermittent texts. I never wanted to know.

“So I've got no one to tell about serious stuff like this and your brother didn't do anything to me earlier when he – when he could've so it's not like I've got any reason to turn him in.”

“But you know he did something and the police are after him.” Satara narrowed her eyes.

“Technically I didn't see what happened at the clinic. Jay told me to close my eyes so I didn't see them and I don't know which one of you killed those people there.” She paused as if she thought Satara might confess and then realised how ridiculous she was for thinking that would happen. “I saw Spy attack someone but I didn't stop to make sure that guy was dead. I just ran.”

Sin attacked that guy in front of her? Shock trickled cold water over her stomach. What was he thinking?

“So you don't know if Jayce or me had anything to do with it? That's why you're not calling the police?”

“That too. And I told you,” Melissa's gaze flitted away almost shyly. “You remind me of that girl I saw ages ago. Even if you're not sisters, I still owe her big time.”

“Owe her what?” Why would Saytarnia do anything for a girl she doesn't know in another country? Is she connected to Chirean somehow?

The other girl laughed and twirled the end of her plait self consciously. “Not to be dramatic but I kind of owe her my life.”

Her life? How? Satara frowned. “Sounds pretty dramatic to me.”

“I know, right?” Melissa's blushed like someone talking about their favourite person. “It was kind of dramatic though. She saved me from getting run over.”

“She saved you?”

“Yeah, I was just – just crossing the road and this car came out of nowhere. I was pretty sure it was going to hit me.” She shook her head, clearly far more bewildered by the memory than she had been by the sight of zai. “Sometimes I think it did hit me but that wouldn't make any sense. I don't have any scars or anything, and I remember what happened afterwards. I almost didn't go to the hospital but mum made me.”

Maybe she's remembering it wrong. Maybe she just saw Saytarnia somewhere before that and got the two memories mixed up. Satara tried to read Melissa's face. Though I'm probably the last person who should doubt the power of someone else's memory.

“What happened afterwards?” she murmured, even though the other teenager was obviously capable of continuing without a prompt.

“I could swear she dropped out of the sky or something. Oh my god, that's almost exactly what your brother did too.” Her mouth opened a little wider. “They both came out of no where just like the car. One second I was on the road, and then she grabbed me and we were on the other side. Like we teleported or something.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“Um, she just told me to be careful and stuff.” Blue eyes strayed from hers. She's lying. “She left straight away but I never forgot her face or what she sounds like.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Maybe three or four years? It might have been a bit longer. I can't remember.”

That'd mean it was after she killed the Cunninghams. Why would she hang around here for so long after that? Satara rubbed the curve of her neck. “I see.”

“See? So I won't betray you.”

“Just because a random person who looks like me saved you from a car?” She tilted her head to the right. “She's just a stranger. What difference does it make even if we do look similar?”

“Because I knew I could trust her.” An unusual solemnity settled upon Melissa's features and seemed to age her. “She made me feel safe. Even safer than my own family did.”

Yet you've got no idea what she did to her own. It's almost funny. Satara didn't laugh.

“So what? You feel like you can trust me?” Why doesn't it ever make sense?

“I want you to feel safe with me.” Melissa slipped back into character with a soft but sad giggle. “You've got trust issues and I know what that's like. It's the worst. So you can trust me, all right?” She lifted a hand before Satara could make a sound, wagging her index finger. “And before you say anything, I know it's not that easy. No matter how much I tell you today, or tomorrow, I know you're not going to start believing me overnight. I know, okay? Even I'm not that magical.”

“So why bother?” murmured Satara as Melissa flipped her plait over her shoulder with an exaggerated smirk.

“Because maybe someday after that you might.”

“I doubt we're going to be here that long.” It was like talking to a child. A normal one with dreams and hopes who looked at the world through eyes unclouded by the past. “You might be wasting your time.”

“Well, like I said, I don't have any real friends to hang out with and I'm depre – I've got other issues.” She shrugged. “So I've got more than enough time to waste on you guys.”

Am I supposed to thank her? It doesn't sound like much of a compliment but at least she's honest about it.

“Good luck then,” said Satara. “I'm going to the bathroom now.”

“Okay.” The weight of Melissa's smile had reduced a little.

She should stay out of it for her own safety but I can't tell her why without putting her in danger first.

<><><><><>

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Satara …”

Melissa had turned on her bedside lamp while they were getting ready to sleep. She paused in the middle of reaching past her alarm clock for the switch and tried not to knock her purple and black hair brush off the cabinet. Satara didn't answer at once but her breathing hadn't evened out. Is she pretending to be asleep? Awkward …

“What?” The dark haired girl turned further on her side.

“Is your brother a criminal or something? Is that why the police are after him?” Melissa gulped in the silence. “I mean, I saw what he did to that guy in the alley but he didn't look like he wanted to do it, you know? Even if he was really good at it. But I'm pretty sure Judy wouldn't be friends with a criminal. She might take them on as patients but she wouldn't get close to them like that.”

“The police think he's a criminal,” said Satara.

“Why? Has he done this before?” Her fingers tightened in the blanket bunched around her chest. Is that's why he seemed like such a pro?

“They think he kidnapped me and Jayce.” The other girl spoke as if she had told the same story a thousand times over.

“No way.” Melissa forgot about the lamp and gaped at Satara's broad back. “He kidnapped you two?”

“I said that's what they think.” The latter's tone grew spikes. Melissa cringed. She sounded both identical to and completely different from the girl who saved her life years ago. “But he didn't kidnap us.”

“Then what did he do?” Is she going to stop answering if I ask too many questions? Then again, if I don't ask, it's not like she'll tell me anything on her own any way.

“He helped us.” Her words lost some of their terrifying hostility.

“Aww.” They must be really close. That's nice. “I did wonder why your own brother would need to kidnap you in the first place.”

“He's not my brother.”

“Oh.” The blood rushed to Melissa's cheeks along with a spark too similar to hope. Were they all in school together or something? But the other guys looks like he could be in college. Maybe they all met in high school and then – “I get it. So it's like that.”

“Like what?” growled Satara under her breath.

“Did your mum and dad say you couldn't date him?”

But which one does she really like? Earlier, her and Jay looked pretty close too. She remembered the expression on Satara's face as her voice splintered and she twisted away from her friend. Like cracks spreading across a steel gate. She could only imagine the kind of strength needed to cause such damage … and to resist it. You don't argue with someone like that unless you care about what happens to them. I think.

“What? Date who?” Satara sounded like she was seconds away from sitting up in bed and staring down at her.

Instead she pulled the duvet up over her shoulder as if the movement would hide the flash of confusion in her tone.

“I don't know.” Melissa grinned and knew she was being reckless. “You tell me.”

“This hasn't got anything to do with dating.” Satara sighed quietly. “You don't need to know anything else.”

“Anything else? You haven't even told me anything except he isn't your brother and the police think he kidnapped you.”

“That's more than enough.” The other girl released her impatience in a single drawn out exhalation. “He saved us so now we have to save him. You're helping us with that so thank you.”

“Hey, you're welco –”

“Now all you and your mum have to do is pretend we weren't here if the police come asking.”

“Mum won't let Judy get in trouble with the police.”

“Why? Because they're friends?” A muffled sound escaped Satara as if she were watching a dark comedy.

“Yeah.” Melissa considered pushing her off the mattress but decided she wasn't that reckless. “And Judy's been there for us for ages. More than my dad has.”

“Hm.” Satara didn't ask her anything about him. “If you say so.”

Her silence seemed like a full stop at the end of a sentence and she didn't say anything else for so long Melissa was sure the conversation had ended. I should let her sleep. It's already getting late and Judy said they came from somewhere far away from here.

But right before she could turn over, Satara spoke again. “That girl who saved you.”

“Yeah?”

“What colour were her eyes?”

“That was another weird thing. They were blue.” The memory of that full blooded gaze passed through her in a shiver. “A really cool blue, almost like –”

“– The base of a candle flame?”

“Oh my god.” Melissa pushed herself up on both elbows and stared at Satara's shrinking shape. “So you do know her?”

“Sort of,” she murmured but wouldn't elaborate, no matter what Melissa asked her

Frick it. The latter gave up and rolled onto her side, turning off the lamp. I don't need her to confess. They must be related somehow. What are the chances that I'd meet them both?

Oddly enough, the absence of a solid answer made her smile.

<><><><><>

Satara waited for the other teenager to fall asleep.

At first, she had been too wound up to doze off anyway. The unfamiliar ceiling loomed over her, the duvet and pillows smelt like jasmine, and she had a stranger sleeping right next to her. The one person she believed would see them through to the end of the chaotic path they had chosen now lay in a coma and her best friend believed it was partially her fault.

Was my first night at the Cunningham's like this too? Her eyelids drifted down. She pinched her palm and shuffled away from Melissa who didn't react. Her breathing had been steady for several minutes now but Satara peered at her sleeping face just in case. In the darkness, she could hardly see anything besides the other girl's sprawled outline.

How does she sleep like that? Satara waited for her to react to her unwavering stare, then slowly pushed herself off the bed when the other girl remained unconsciousness. She padded towards the door and opened it with careful fingers. Something moved in her peripheral vision and she spun around.

Saytarnia stared back at her, fists half raised, brown eyes incandescent.

Brown eyes.

Not Saytarnia.

Her reflection sighed and lowered its arms in Melissa's full length mirror. She closed her eyes and swallowed the lump of fear in her throat before slipping out of the room, grabbing her hoodie from the arm of Melissa's chair. Aside from the bathroom door, all of the others were shut so she closed the one behind her too. Navigating the stairs wasn't as difficult as she expected it be. Back at the Lang's house, she knew where to find most of the weaker floorboards and which steps made more noise than the rest.

Melissa's house, on the other hand, seemed fairly new as if it had been renovated recently. As long as she moved slowly, her footsteps stayed relatively hushed. The murmur of voices from the living room helped her to remain undetected. She paused in the hallway in front of the first strip of light from living room doorway.

“– so you don't know who he is?” asked Pam.

The fragment of their conversation dragged her gaze through the thin gap between the door and its frame. Judy sat on a dusky pink settee with her back to the doorway and Pam had a mug in one hand. A plate of untouched biscuits and a second mug of tea rested atop the grey oak coffee table next to them.

“I know his real name, his first name anyway, and why he came to me,” said Judy. “But I'm not sure where he's from.”

“But you trust him?” The judgement Melissa's mum had withheld all day now saturated both her eyes and tone.

“I know, I know, it's weird.” Judy shook her head.

“It's not weird at all.” Pam sipped her tea. “He looks young.”

“He is. I guess that's one of the reasons why he seems so –” The therapist flapped a hand, then rubbed her face.

“Attractive?” added the other woman before Judy could finish her sentence, hiding a smile behind the apple green ceramic.

Oh god. Satara covered her face too, glaring between her fingers.

“It's not like that,” said Judy quickly. “He's just a patient.”

“Most people don't accept patients without a proper background check,” said Pam. “And they don't usually bring them to their best friend's house covered in blood, issuing gag orders.”

“I'm sorry.” The therapist leaned forward and patted Pam's arm. “I know I'm asking a lot just by being here with him.”

“Oh, stop it, Ju. After everything you've done for Mella and me, it's the least I could do.” The older woman smiled kindly. “You know I'd take your secrets to the grave if you asked, right?”

“I know.”

Satara's skin crawled as if she were watching a British TV drama. The kind Mrs Lang couldn't stand because she thought they were full of unnecessary filth and the acting was soulless.

“So you're helping this conveniently hot patient of yours without knowing where he's from purely because you're an amazing person?”

The question didn't sound spiteful. Judy even laughed. She wouldn't laugh if I asked the same thing.

“Even if I did have other … thoughts, he's not interested anyway,” she said with a sad smile in her voice.

“Oh?” Pam's eyes lit up. “So you've had that conversation, hm?”

Like mother, like daughter. Is Judy's love life really more important than the fact she's hiding a potential criminal in your house?

“It wasn't much of a conversation. He doesn't really talk much.” A potent silence followed her observation. “Oh my god, don't make that face. I didn't mean it like that!”

“Hey, you know I'm not one to judge,” said Pam. “If I met an angel like and he decided he'd rather leave words behind when he's with me, I wouldn't bother talking either –”

“He's in love with someone else.”

Satara pressed her lips together in a half satisfied, half bitter smile. I knew it.

“Oh no.” The warm amusement in their host's body language cooled into horror. “Wait, it's not that girl, is it? Isn't she underage?”

“Come on, Pam,” Judy huffed. “Do you really think I'd do all this for a paedo, regardless of whether they look like God's favourite?”

“True, but you do like giving people chances even when no one else believes they deserve it.” Pam focused a little more intently on Judy's face. “I'm guessing whoever did this to him had their reasons as well and I don't care if you share them with me or not, Ju.”

“I appreciate that.”

“But I do want to keep my best friend and my daughter are safe, and if there's anything I can do to ensure that, I'd like you to let me know straight away, okay?”

“That's fair. We did crash your house uninvited.”

“You're always welcome here. As are any of your patients.” Pam made finger quotes at her and Judy picked up the biscuit plate.

“Stop that and have a biscuit.” She moved it in a circle around her friend's nose. “I know I shouldn't encourage stress eating but I think I'll take a break from being a therapist, at least for tonight.”

“You should definitely take some time off,” said Pam with a knowing shake of her head. “I know you've done more for him than you're telling me, even if you didn't get to help the girl like he wanted.”

“Worse than that, I think she hates me.” Judy nearly sounded like she cared.

You're not wrong but stop talking about people behind their backs.

“Why do you think that?”

“I already knew she'd have trust issues before he said anything but it's a lot worse than I thought. And after everything that happened today –” Judy put the plate and her mug aside, leaning forward into her hands. “– I really can't blame her. I've just made everything worse.”

“I doubt that, Ju. You're too hard on yourself.” Pam set own mug down on the table too. “I'm sure you did your best for both of them.”

“I thought I was – No, that's not true.” Judy released a shaky breath. “I only did what was best for myself and now, because of that, he's –”

“I don't know what you think you did exactly but I'm sure most people would've done the same thing as you in your position.” Pam rubbed her upper arm, eyelids half lowered. “We can only do what's best for ourselves.”

“Satara wouldn't have done what I did, Pam. She's got a lot of trauma to work through but she's a brave little thing. Braver than I've ever been.” Tears slid down the therapist's voice. “And the person he's in love with … If she were here, I'm sure she could've kept him safe if she wanted to.”

“Well, clearly that person doesn't care whether he is or not,” said Pam fiercely. “Otherwise she'd be here right now, wouldn't she? She'd be here and he wouldn't be lying in my dining room like that.”

“It's not that simple –” Judy broke down before she could explain further.

Satara rolled her eyes and sneaked past the door as Pam hugged her friend. Gently easing the dining room door open, she hoped that Jason had gone to sleep and wasn't about to attack her as she didn't completely shut the door behind her. Neither of the two women seemed to have heard her and she faced the rest of the room after several taut seconds.

Sinastar lay where she had left him, albeit with a pillow and a duvet now tucked around him. Jason slept on his side with one arm bent to cushion his neck and the other hanging off the camping bed. The curtains had been drawn aside and strong moonlight made her mission to cross the room without stepping on anything a lot easier.

I'm only going there to have a look. There's no need to say goodbye but – She walked over Sinastar and stood at his side for a moment. His thick eyelashes rested heavily on sunken cheeks, mouth slightly open. She wanted to press a hand beneath his chin and close it in case a insect decided to move in and call it home. We would've saved him only for him to choke to death on a bug instead. Disgusting.

She bent down but hesitated. She had washed his blood from her hands hours ago but it seemed to have stained her skin. Am I allowed to do this? She placed a palm gently against his forehead yet her fingers hovered over his scalp. His skin was still too cold.

I'll be back soon, Sin. She waited but he didn't stir. Sorry you ended up like this because of me too. Wake up when I get back, okay? Though his breathing faltered and his mouth closed, Sinastar remained asleep as she walked around the camping bed and paused beside Jason.

“That's not what I'm saying,” he said stiffly, lowering his hand.

“Then what are you saying?” She dug the nails of her index fingers into her thumbs. “I should just play nice and pretend that Judy wasn't the one who put him in that position in the first place?”

“He was already kinda out of it before he got to the clinic, Tara.” He froze for a second and so did she.

She crouched down and pressed a hand to his brow after a long moment. If you're going to keep talking like that, you'd best take better care of him than I did until I get back, Jayce. Don't let them do whatever they want just because I'm not there to stop them. He grumbled in his sleep and slapped her hand away, then turned over beneath his own duvet. A quick smile darted across her face and she stood up again. The back door key had been left in its lock and she glanced back a final time before opening it. I'll be back before any of them wake up anyway.

She left the house in near silence and tiptoed over to the gate. Her trainers made hardly any noise on the path and the cool air slipped through her clothes. She pulled her hoodie on over her pyjamas and unlatched the gate. None of the lights in the house behind her turned on and she closed the gate just as carefully before turning in the direction of her old home, her fingers curling into fists.

Time to get this over and done with.