Despite their proximity to the main road, it was almost as quiet as it had been back when they camped out in the fields. Gravel crunched loudly under her feet. She couldn't remember it being so loud when they first reached Melissa's house. Probably because I was too busy trying not to drop Sin. More cars had been parked in the space she left behind since their arrival and she gave each one a wide berth. As much as the police might love it, the last thing I need is to be accused of car vandalism right now.

Sparse conversations drifted from the direction of the road and she turned her back on them. She was the only person on the pathway that connected Melissa's house to the dreaded side road. Something moved in the branches overhead but it sounded like a bird. Possibly an owl but the moonlight hadn't penetrated that far into the leaves above her. Do we even have owls here?

Minutes later, she stood at the top of the path that led down to the Cunningham's house and had no other mundane details she could use to distract herself from everything she had chosen to face by leaving the house. Fast but light foot steps echoed in her memory.

She turned into a dark alley, the shortcut to her house, and her hair stood on end as though ice water had flooded the basement of her skin. An odd buzzing briefly filled her ears until they popped. She shook her head as she ran to dislodge the strange sensation and almost tripped over someone lying on the ground.

I'm back. This time her ears didn't pop and the cold already had her hair standing on end. Nothing resisted her plans to approach the house except her own hesitation. Her breathing began to speed up but she forced herself to take the first step into the darkness. Following the moonlit pattern of the leaves and branches on the ground, she made her way down the slope.

“Uncle Joe?” She righted herself before leaning over her mum's brother. Her fingertips caught on the shoulder of his well-worn, woollen coat. “What are you –?”

A fist of copper and iron slammed into her face, rushing up her nose. She jolted backwards, pressing her sleeve over her mouth and nostrils. The red lake beneath her uncle's body had congealed as it flowed downslope towards her home. Footprints trailed from its distal end, distorted, almost animal-like in appearance, marking a path down to her house where someone else with long hair was slung over the low gate.

“M-Mum?” Her calves were heavier than before. Each step rattled her nerves like the clamour of a giant gong.

The pointed top of the gate picket disappeared into Aunt Stephie's large stomach, her painted blue nails nearly touching the ground next to several dark red puddles. The same liquid glistened on the whitewashed wood, spattered across the red and blue balloons tied to the fence and back door with metallic black streamers.

She blinked and the images of her uncle and aunt vanished, though the road shuddered and diverged before her. In one version, Uncle Joe was still alive but staring up at her through terrified eyes. She shook her head and alley converged again. What the – Am I making up memories now? The parking spot directly outside the house was empty and someone had cleaned the blood of the fence and back door. The balloons must have deflated years ago but she was sure she could still smell rubber.

She faltered by the open gate. Uncle Dave sat slumped against the door, arm outstretched as if he'd fallen asleep in the middle of turning the doorknob. The frame of his glasses were too close to his eyes, embraced by puffy pink skin, the lenses shattered to opaqueness. A gritty crimson handprint wound around the handle, inviting her inside with all the warmth of an inconvenienced host. The pigeons that usually cooed from the the roof were silent and she wasn't sure if any of them were there.

She stopped opposite the door. The air seemed to have aged. Its stagnant scent drifted so far up her nostrils that she thought she would shatter the stillness with a sneeze. The atmosphere that enclosed the house and those around it could have been sacred instead of ominous as if the entire road only existed between the motionless hands of a clock.

I've really come back. She didn't say the words aloud but shivered as if she had, kicking the gate open. She caught it again with her foot before its latch clicked deafeningly into place and pulled her sleeve over hand before she tried the door handle. It was cold through the material and the door was clearly locked. Of course it is. It's been years. Someone might even be living here now. A battered for sale sign propped up against the nearest wall and the neglected bushes showing above the fence surrounding the garden told her otherwise.

She followed the tall fence that framed those bushes until she reached the back door of the next house. Janie's lithe body had occasionally disappeared through the bushes at one corner of the garden and she hadn't been able to use zai. They must have boarded it up by now. After ensuring that no one else was around, she stepped over the neighbour's fence and examined a large potted plant located in the junction of the fence and their wall. She covered her hands again and dragged it aside as quietly as she could, reaching into the deeper blackness behind it.

Her hand brushed leaves and twigs instead of planks. She closed her eyes and covered her face with both arms as she pushed between two bushes. The sweet, warm scent of the roses lingered and she remembered staring at them as a child. Did they remind me of the magnolia flowers back in Chirean? Is that why I kept looking at them? No alarms went off and the garden was as deserted as she expected. An overgrown version of the one in her memory. The small pond in one corner was either empty or covered by tarpaulin. Her hood, dislodged by stubby branches, fell backwards as she inhaled. The place never had and never would smell like home. Now she knew why.

How long has it been since anyone's been here? The police must have been all over this place straight after. And the reporters too. I wonder if any of them got in like I did. Pulling her hair free from the back of her hoodie, she crossed the lawn until she reached the curved path that lead to the patio doors. Moonlight cast her long haired shadow against the formerly glossy white wood and a version of deja vu swept through her from head to toe. Her stomach twinged.

She pressed one of the golden handles down and gave it a tug. The door squeaked open suddenly and she jerked back. Did someone forget to lock both doors back then? Or does someone actually live here? The though lifted her heart into her throat as she stepped into the dining room and waited to adjust to the dimness. If not, I doubt anyone's still paying for the electric here.

She stopped two steps into the dining room. It was colder, the patio doors wide open. A stream of moonlight uncovered two more bodies. Her parents.

“What –” The question turned to stone in her mouth, blocking her windpipe.

Her mum was flat on her back, the white cardigan she had been wearing that morning now crimson and slashed open in multiple places. Her eyes and mouth frozen into a mask of unmistakable agony. Her dad was lying prone, black hair unnaturally frizzy, with one hand inches away from her mum's ankle around which the puddle of red seemed thickest. The burnt ham scent was stronger now, only it didn't smell like ham any more.

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“M-mum?” Satara forced the words out past the rock in her throat and covered her mouth as she gagged. “Dad?”

She blinked and her parent's bodies flitted across her sight. No, not my parents. The people who kidnapped me and pretended they cared. The wood creaked beneath her as she closed the door and realised she now stood exactly where Saytarnia had six years ago. For a moment, she almost saw everything as if she hadn't been the little girl on the other side of the room.

“Who – who are you?” she whimpered past her sweaty palms, feet locked to the ground.

“Someone who knows you.” The stranger's voice was a winter breeze at midnight.

“Why did you hurt them?” The truth hid behind her teeth.

“Because they deserved it.” The stranger's blue eyes, partially shadowed and at odds with her features, held her own like a pair of icy hands. Unrepentant. Desolate.

“Why?” Satara pawed at the emptiness growing larger in her chest. “That's – They're my family.”

“They weren't who you think they were.” The words pierced her reality which twisted like a dying animal. Like the humanity inside her slowly falling apart as if it had been composed of snowflakes.

“What're you talking about?” Tears abruptly blurred the other girl. She dashed them away, struggling to stay coherent. “They're my family, my parents, and you – you –”

“I killed them.” The stranger took a step towards her. She stumbled backwards into the nearest wall.

Sin said she was trying to save me but she killed everyone and left me here. Why? Thought they had been cleaned up a long time ago, she could still see blood stains on the walls and floor. Could still smell fried skin, although the scent didn't trigger her impulse to run this time. She stared at the little girl who cowered opposite her and watched the way her brown eyes, which should have been blue, searched the room for an explanation, following her gaze years too late.

If she wanted to save me, why leave me in hell? If I was so important to her, how was she distracted by anything else? She moved deeper into the house. None of the doors were closed but the birthday décor had been removed. The entire place seemed smaller. The ceilings too low. The space between the walls too narrow. She glanced into the kitchen.

“I – I wasn't stealing them!” said little Martin, his pudgy fingers wrapped around a red cookie packet. “I was putting it back.”

He had frozen mid movement after catching sight of her in the doorway.

“Okay,” she said after a second. “Mum said we' can have them after lunch with tea.”

He put the biscuits back in the cupboard and stumbled off the small step ladder, pausing next to her.

“Are you – are you going to tell aunty?” His eyes asked her not to.

“I won't.” She shook her head. “As long as they're still there after lunch.”

“Okay!” He grinned at her and waddled off.

Little Martin had an operation several days later and shed some of the weight he had carried since they first met. For a long time, she believed her parents would send her to have the same operation but they rarely took her to the doctors, let alone to the hospital. Even when her stomach aches were really bad, they often called a private doctor instead. Guess they didn't want people asking where their new child came from and making records about her health. She passed the living room where Soo-li asked Brian who his favourite cousin was.

“Go ooooon. I won't tell anyone.”

“I bet you will. You'll tell them.”

“I won't. I swear I won't.” said Soo-li fervently.

“-ra.”

“What?”

“I said it's Satara.” Brian sounded angry at himself for admitting it.

“What? Why her?”

“'Coz she doesn't cry all the time like everyone else.”

“I hate you!”

Soo-li's ghost ran out of the room past her after Brian's response had elicited bitter tears. Facing her fake cousins straight after had been an awkward affair and she pretended she hadn't heard a word, innocently asking Brian why Soo-li was crying and receiving a red face in response.

The house was full of ghosts. Janie stared up at her from the foot of the stairway until Satara blinked and stepped over her broken neck. I doubt you knew what was going on. If these guys were organised enough to find Chirean and arrange to abduct me, there's no way they'd let a kid in on it. Not when we were close enough for her to tell me the truth.

She climbed the steps and heard herself counting from one to twenty as the other children hid. She remembered how much the youngest had cried because she had been too scary when she found him. He would've died on the spot if he met me now. I don't even know if I'm human any more. She reached the top step and smiled grimly. Maybe I never was and they knew it. Little kids can tell stuff like that.

She passed the bedrooms where her former cousins had been found dead and stopped at the foot of another flight of stairs leading to the loft. How did they find out about Chirean in the first place? Sinastar didn't tell me about it and I came from there. How did these strangers find me and why did they bring me here in the first place? She had asked herself the same question over and over again. She started climbing the steps and past warnings from her fake relatives echoed in her ears.

“Your dad's got some dangerous tools up there. I think he's building some shelves for someone.”

“That's where your mum keeps her paper work. If you mess that up, we'll all have issues with money. You don't want that, do you?”

“Yeah, don't go up there, sweetie. Otherwise dad will be very upset. You don't want me to be upset with you, do you?”

“Play downstairs with the others, baby. There's nothing fun in that room. Just boring books and papers. You don't have to worry about all that other stuff yet.”

Even if I had gone up there, I doubt it would've made a difference. It's not like I remembered Chirean properly anyway. The handle of the final door turned but it was locked. She pushed against the door with both hands and then her shoulder. It's too dark but there must be a keyhole somewhere. She felt around for the handle again and pressed her nails into the gap between the door and wall.

Something hot crackled across her fingers and a blue light briefly illuminated the space around her. She steadied herself against the wall with one hand to avoid falling down the stairs. What the – is that zai? Why would there be zai here? She massaged her shocked fingertips. Can it last for that long by itself?

“Back at the flat, you said were tracking Saytarnia, right?” she asked before starting to eat. “How?”

“With zai mostly,” said Sinastar. “Whenever someone uses zai, traces of it stay in the area. Some people know how to clean up after themselves but there's almost always something left behind.”

She's a lot messier than I thought. She placed her hands against the door once more but pushed with her mind as well this time. Although invisible in the darkness, aside from occasional white flashes, her zai billowed up around her hands and warmed the air. As they had when she used it earlier to get Sinastar off the warehouse roof, her nerves complained and her lack of sleep started dig its claws into her muscles. The zai around the door didn't resist her for much longer and the wood gave way as if it hadn't been locked in the first place.

The moonlight that dropped through several slanted roof windows revealed several desks and office chairs arranged against the wall of her right. Shelving units and cabinets lined the wall on her left. No dangerous tools. Looks like he finished the shelves before he died. He and mum – and that woman clearly weren't the only people working up here.

Black and grey Pukka file boxes and lever arch folders filled the shelves. The cabinets were locked with no keys in sight. Several Dell computers with matching monitors sat atop the large desks along with huge rolls of bubble wrap. Was someone supposed to collect all this stuff after we left? There's no way they would've fit all of this in their cars.

Despite the passage of time, the air inside the closed off loft wasn't as musty as it should have been. She tried several windows and one at the far end opened. Did someone forget to lock this too or –? Unlike on the lower floors, the police hadn't attached any of their neon crime scene tape to the doorway and they clearly hadn't entered the loft from the roof to retrieve the stored files. Why didn't they smash the glass? It should've been easy enough. Or look harder for a way in? I've only been here for five minutes.

She closed out the fresh night air and eyed the keyhole on the nearest cabinet, raising a zai-encased hand. A spark of malignant blue in her peripheral vision made her whirl around but she was alone in the room. More traces? She touched the furthest wall in between a table with a coffee machine and a small fridge but nothing happened. She stepped back, frowned, then pressed a zai-infused palm against the same spot.

Did I imagine that –? The air rang a split second before she pulled back and her chest tightened as if someone had embraced her viciously from behind. A circle crackled to life on the wall, filled with familiar symbols as it flooded the entire room with a wild electric blue. She bit back a startled cry and covered her eyes with an arm but couldn't block out the memories that slammed into her mind.

She fell but didn't know when she hit the ground as the horrific truth brought her to her knees.

No … Hell no …