My mom didn’t respond. She just sighed heavily and pulled the curtains open, filling the room with blinding light. I tried not to recoil away from the brightness too violently, but it was hard. My mind was still reeling from everything that had happened and being pulled back into the world too quickly. Dizziness pulled at me, making me want to sink back onto the bed and shut my eyes, but my mom had turned around again and was staring at me. She was looking at me with a mixture of irritation and suspicion, and I couldn’t quite work out why. I hadn’t done anything that bad. Nothing that I was aware of, anyway.

Unless I had. She still hadn’t answered my question, so maybe I’d been asleep for hours. Maybe it was already the afternoon. That would have annoyed her. I’d gone to bed early the night before. She would definitely suspect something was up if I had a lie in as well. There was no way that she’d believe me if I told her it was nothing, and I definitely couldn’t tell her the truth.

The other world I’d been to scared me too much. I knew that I hadn’t told anyone the truth about what I could do there. Not really. I had started to. I could vaguely remember telling one of the doctors, I wasn’t sure which one, that sometimes it felt like I went somewhere else in my mind. Not to another world; I hadn’t been brave enough to mention that. Maybe they knew, though. I could remember bits and pieces of their questions. Maybe we spoke about it?

“It’s already ten!” my mom told me, finally answering my question. “I’ve already been awake for four hours, and you’ve wasted your morning! Honestly!”

Confusion washed over me, and I started to reach for my phone. Could it really only be ten in the morning? That didn’t feel right. My dream had felt so long, but the numbers on my phone couldn’t lie. I’d only slept for a few more hours after the first time I’d woken up. It felt like much longer, but I couldn’t quite tell. That world already felt more distant than it had moments before. It was slowly slipping away from me, becoming harder and harder to grasp.

But I wanted to go back. Part of me did, at least. I wanted to go back and find out what had happened. Why had I shouted for Rex? Who was that? Were they the reason that Andrew looked so scared? Did they do something? I didn’t know, but maybe it was for the best. That world scared me. There was something about it that felt wrong, and I knew I shouldn’t go back there. I had to focus on the world I was in. On my reality.

Where my mom was still looking at me.

She was waiting for me to say something, and I quickly replayed what she had said in my head. She’d told me I was wasting my morning, and that was stupid. Irritation fizzed up inside of me, and I was filled with the urge to ask her what she had done with her morning that had been so productive.

It wasn’t worth it. I knew that. She would just get annoyed at me or make something up. She’d probably say that she’d finished a book, tidied the house and more, most likely all lies. I pushed the urge aside, forcing myself to ignore it.

“I guess I was really tired,” I said lamely.

My mom’s eyes narrowed.

“You fell asleep before dinner last night,” she remarked.

She was right. I needed an explanation or an excuse.

“Yeah, I was exhausted. Maybe I’m coming down with a cold or something,” I lied blithely.

I was tired, but it had nothing to do with me being ill. I didn’t think it did, anyway. I felt fine. It was probably just the anxiety or adrenaline that I’d felt the night before. That had filled me with energy and left me empty when I fell back into my bed.

My mom sniffed and looked around my room, a disgusted look coming over her face.

“I’m not surprised you’re getting ill. That’s what happens when you don’t look after yourself. I mean, just look at your room. It’s a state. I don’t know how you managed to make it so messy,” she said.

She’d already said that. She’d told me it looked like a pigsty when she’d first come into my room, but obviously, I didn’t react how she wanted me to, so she felt the need to repeat it. I glanced around my room. It wasn’t particularly tidy, to give her some credit. My clothes were strewn around the floor, and my makeup was scattered across the desk and space in front of the mirror.

It wasn’t entirely my fault, though, and I kind of wanted to point that out to her. It had been much tidier before she had searched it, and she had barely bothered to put everything back where she had found it. She didn’t, though. And I wasn’t surprised. She never did after she looked through my stuff.

I opened my mouth to tell her that before shutting it again. I couldn’t say it. It would just start a fight, and our time in Scotland was almost over. Soon, I’d be back home. Then I’d be able to get some space and not be around her as much. She’d go back to drinking constantly, and I’d be able to stay at Phoebe’s when she got back from France, but before that, I’d get to see Duncan.

My heart squeezed in a mixture of anxiety and excitement, but I made sure to keep my expression neutral.

“I’m going to tidy it today when I pack,” I said in a calm and pleasant tone.

Frustration flashed across Mom’s face, and I had to fight to keep the smug satisfaction from my lips. She wanted me to bite. I could see that she wanted me to be hurt or annoyed by what she had said, but I wasn’t, and that annoyed her. She wanted us to fight. She wanted to shout at me or call me names, but I was giving her nothing. I was a little bit proud of that, but I also felt bad, in a way. I didn’t like how smug I was feeling. It didn’t feel right.

“Good. You might want to get up now then. I’m going out for lunch in an hour or so, and you’ll need as much time as possible to fix your hair if you want to come with,” she said, gesturing towards it dismissively. “It looks like you’ve just completely given up.”

She sighed heavily, and I reached towards my hair before I could stop myself, seeing a smirk appear on my mom’s face. It did feel a bit knotted, but that made sense. I’d fallen asleep pretty much straight after my shower and hadn’t had a chance to brush it out. It was probably a mess, but I doubted it was as bad as she made it sound.

I forced myself to lower my hand and shrug.

“Okay,” was all I said instead. “Where are you planning to go?”

“I don’t remember the name,” she said. “The cafe in the next town over. It’s the only place anywhere nearby that can make a decent espresso.”

“Mmm,” I replied.

I had no clue where she was talking about. There wasn’t a single place anywhere nearby that Mom didn’t find something to complain about. I’d lost track of which ones she complained about more and which she said were almost acceptable.

Mom continued to look at me expectantly, and I stared back, unsure what else to say. Surely, she couldn’t be waiting for a better response. It didn’t warrant one.

“Well?” Mom demanded after a few seconds.

“What?” I asked uncertainly.

“Why aren’t you getting up yet?” she asked, gesturing toward me for emphasis. “We don’t have all day, and Mom and Dad will probably want to go out for dinner when they get back tonight, so you can’t leave your packing to the last second like you always do!”

I never really did that, but it didn’t matter. Mom had already swept out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. I watched her go as I started to climb out of bed, a strange sadness building in my stomach. It wasn’t because of what she’d said or how she treated me. I was sad for her. She genuinely believed that her parents were going to come back; I could tell that she did, and I hated it.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

They never did. It happened every year, but she always thought it would be different. It never was. My grandparents were sick of spending time with us and of us being there. They weren’t subtle about it. I was pretty sure that even my mom saw it, despite how hard she tried to pretend that they wanted us there. That was why they left to go to their other house, but every single time, they told us that they’d come back to wave us off.

They always said that, and they never did it. Not even once. It used to really upset me. I used to be just as hopeful as my mom and jump every time I heard a car on the road at the end of their drive, hoping that it was them. But it never was. Mom sometimes got angry and lashed out. She’d say that it was my fault, that I had done something to upset them or disappoint them. The reason always changed. Sometimes, she’d say that I wasn’t respectful enough or that I’d been rude to them somehow. Other times, she’d say that I was unpleasant to be around, but mostly, she was just in denial.

I think that was worse than when she lashed out. She was always so worried. She’d say that they were probably stuck in traffic, or maybe their car wasn’t working. It was old. The engine wasn’t always very reliable. Every time, she’d be on her phone constantly, checking traffic reports and news sites to make sure they hadn’t gotten into an accident and phoning them over and over again.

They answered sometimes. Her dad normally just turned off his phone, but my grandmother wouldn’t. She’d let the phone ring until she got annoyed by it, and then she’d answer, but I wish she wouldn’t. It was worse when she did. If my mom didn’t know, if she didn’t know how little they cared for her, it would have been better than having to hear her mom give flimsy and clearly half-hearted excuses. It was never anything good, and in a way, I think it would have just been better for her to say they didn’t want to see us.

That was why they didn’t come back. They just didn’t really want to be around us, which kind of made me sad to think about, but I was used to it. Mom wasn’t, though. She still lived in the hope of making them proud, I think. I think she believed that if she did something right, if she finally managed to achieve something, they’d love her.

Maybe they did love her, I considered as I started to brush the knots out of my hair. They probably did in their own way, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t normal love, like the way Phoebe’s mom loved her or the way my dad did. It was fleeting. Conditional. They only showed any kind of positive emotions towards her when she did something that made them proud, like…

I couldn’t think of any examples, but I was sure that it had happened before. At least once, anyway. The rest of the time, they just seemed to tolerate her, and me by extension, but maybe they didn’t even do that. They always spent as little time as possible with us when we were in Scotland, and they basically ignored Mom’s calls the rest of the time. They picked up sometimes, but that was painful to listen to.

She tried so hard with them. She always did. Mom would talk so much, telling them everything about what was happening in her life and mine, and she’d just get one-word answers back. They’d always be doing something else when she called, too. Sometimes, it would be so clear that they weren’t listening. I’d heard them watching television before when Mom was talking to them.

It must have been worse when she was younger, though. I’d never really thought about it too much before, but I couldn’t stop. Her parents loved her brothers more. Or they put up with them more. They still treated them badly and were dismissive, of course, but they were slightly less bad. It must have been horrible for Mom to see that and then be treated differently. Maybe that was why she was the way she was.

“You’re making it worse,” Mom snapped, appearing in the doorway again and making me jump.

“Oh, yeah,” I muttered, glancing at my reflection, realising just how right she was.

My hair had become even more frizzy than it normally was. I needed to straighten it or something to fix it, but I wasn’t sure that it would be enough. Maybe I needed to do something more, like have a shower or just wet it. That would fix it, but then I’d need to blow dry it, and Mom was already getting annoyed by how long I was taking. If I had a shower, it would be worse.

A loud sigh came from the door as she stomped away, and I looked back at my reflection, trying to work out what to do. Straightening it would be enough, I decided. And if it wasn’t… I could have a shower or just dunk my hair under the tap. It would take longer, but that didn’t really matter. I could pack quickly, and I knew that I’d have time to do it in the evening. We wouldn’t go out for dinner.

Mom never liked to in case her parents showed up at the house, and we weren’t there. That might be enough to make them turn around and drive back to the other house, apparently. I didn’t believe it, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing I could say to change her mind, not that I really tried.

I switched my straighteners on and reached for my heat protection spray, my mind falling quiet. It didn’t last long, though. Within seconds, boredom started to grow within me. I was too used to my other worlds, to being able to disappear away to somewhere else the moment I got bored of being in reality, but for once, I hesitated.

I think I was scared. There was something holding me back and making me reluctant to do it. I didn’t know where I’d end up. I think that was the main thing that was stopping me. Even if I wanted to go somewhere I knew I was safe, I wasn’t sure that I’d get there.

There were too many other places, too many other options that pulled at me. I could go anywhere and be anything, but I didn’t want to. Too many places were scary. Even the ones that should have been safe weren’t, like the hospital. If it even was a hospital.

I was pretty sure it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been; there was no one else there. But then why was I? Why did they take me there, and why were they running so many tests on me? What were they hoping to find? Or maybe they weren’t hoping to find anything. Perhaps they had done something to me. Injected me with something, some new drug or something else.

No. I pushed that thought aside, focusing on my hair as the straightener came dangerously close to my ear. They hadn’t done anything to me. I’d just watched too many superhero movies. It was classic evil villain behaviour, but I hadn’t done anything to upset anyone, and I didn’t exactly have any superpowers.

Maybe in one of the worlds, I did, though. Maybe there was a world where I could fly into the air without wings like that other world I’d been in. Or perhaps I could shoot lasers from my eyes or lift a building. That would be awesome.

I started reaching out, my excitement overpowering my fear for just a moment, but as soon as I felt the dizziness pulling at me, I recoiled away. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk going to another world where I was going to be experimented on or tortured or worse. I’d stay in my world where I knew I was safe.

The thought of staying there filled me with restlessness, though. I longed to run as far away as possible, but even that wouldn’t be enough. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay in just one world. It wasn’t enough for me. I needed more.

I could stick to the worlds I already knew, I thought as I frowned at my appearance. That had to be safe, right? I’d been in the spy world for long enough to know that it was okay there. No one was going to attack me or kill me. The opposite, really. They were training me to be strong, to be able to attack others if I needed to. That was useful. It would be useful to me. I had to be able to go back there.

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to them. To Katie, Abbie, Seth, Scott and the others. I didn’t want to just walk away from them and not look back. It would be too hard. They were right there in my head. All it would take to see them again was just a thought. I could just think of them, and…

A laugh slipped out of my lips, and I had to tighten my grip on my cup as dizziness washed over me. It took me a few seconds to work out where I was, and my heart leapt in happiness. It shouldn’t have. I should have been stronger, but I was so glad to be back.

“I know, I know,” Seth said with a chuckle. “But I maintain that it wasn’t my fault!”

“How could that not be your fault?” Katie demanded, still giggling.

Seth pressed his lips together hard as he tried to come up with an answer, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He was ridiculous, and I liked it.

“I didn’t know that the window would break,” he said, but it sounded more like a question.

“You crashed a golf buggy into it!” I cried, having to put my drink down so that I didn’t spill it as I continued to laugh.

“I didn’t mean to!” Seth shot back, but there was a smile on his face. “The steering was nowhere near as good as I thought it would be!”

I snorted and looked down at the table in front of me. We were in the dining room clearly, but I couldn’t work out what meal it was. Lunch, maybe. It felt like it was lunchtime, but I wasn’t sure what I was basing that on.

“That’s a rookie error,” a voice said from behind us, and I turned to see Rodgers standing behind Seth and me. “Always check how responsive your golf cart’s steering is before you try and do anything ridiculous like drive it up a flight of stairs or through a building.”

It was clear from his tone that he was fighting the urge to laugh. He was barely hiding the grin on his face.

“I didn’t know I was going to drive it through a building,” Seth replied, his cheeks turning red. “I took the wrong turn and panicked.”

“Easy to do,” Rodgers told him. “But dangerous, too. Your driving instructor will tell you all about that, and you’ll have lessons on what to do in emergencies so you don’t panic again.”

“Yes, sir,” Seth muttered, looking down.

“Not just you,” Rodgers added. “And please don’t call me sir. It makes me sound like a teacher or something horrible.”

He shuddered.

“But… you are a teacher,” Abbie pointed out.

“I know,” he said darkly, but a smile pulled at his lips. “But I didn’t come here to be reminded of my mistakes. I came to check up on everyone and make sure you’re all still here and alive.”

“We’re all good,” Katie said with a slight grin, her eyes darting towards Scott, who immediately blushed and looked away.

“Great,” Rodgers said before looking around the room. “Are we missing people? Nina, where are your roommates?”

The girl jumped and looked up at Rodgers.

“Oh, they’re still in bed,” she said quickly. “It was a late night. Not that anything happened… There were no parties or anything…”

She trailed off, her cheeks flushing as Rodgers laughed.

“Great. I’m so glad to hear that.”