Several huffs and skin-pulling later, the front door made a clack, shutting. “I’m homeee!”

That monotone voice, Ellie. I took my hand off my ar-, Jason’s arm. Best not to act suspicious.

Thinking so, I rose from the chair, catching myself on the desk as I tripped over Jason’s foot. Damn this drunken body.

“Uncle?” She asked, standing at the doorway. “I thought you were sleeping.” On one knee and an arm on the desk, she looked me up and down, eyes and brow casting a dubious expression.

“I-I.” Come on gray, straighten up your act! I coughed, clearing my throat. “I woke up a few minutes ago,” I said while forcing myself to stand.

“Did you, huh.” She turned. “Works for me, now me and Sophie don’t have to drag you to bed.”

“Wait,” I said.

She stopped, tilting her head, and gave me a sidelong glance.

I pointed behind her and asked, “Who is that?”

She placed her hand on his shoulder and slipped out a mute laugh. “Forgot to introduce you to each other.” She took her hand, swaying it towards him. “Uncle, this is Reed.” And bringing her hand to me. “Reed, this is my uncle.”

He reached out to me, his hand open. “Nice to meet you Ellie’s uncle,” he said, his glasses shimmering as he smiled at me.

What a polite boy… Lanky must be what Ellie likes. I gripped his hand, squeezing so tight, I might have crushed a pebble. “Nice to meet you too, oh, and call me Jason.”

“J-jason.” He tried pulling his hand away, causing his light brown curls to rustle. “Do you mind?” he asked, his visage that of fear itself.

“Mind what?” I replied, confused by his actions.

Ellie grabbed both of our hands. “That’s enough shaking,” she said, ripping us apart. “I’m just tutoring him, so don’t worry.”

“Why would I worry?”

“No reason,” she said, “you seemed tense.” She headed for the stairs, Reed dragging behind as he glanced back and forth from me to her.

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I looked at my right hand; the one that held onto Reed’s. Tense, huh. That would explain this innate feeling of dislike for the boy.

“Ah, that’s right, Phraze’s dinner!” I yelled, remembering when he hung around the corner of the kitchen. I started for the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I looked for the prepped cuts of salmon. They weren’t there, but there was half of an uncut salmon. Does Jason do this himself?

“Great, I’ll have to cut it up.” Pulling a knife from a drawer, I grabbed a cutting board, and placed the salmon on it. The first slice was hectic and it had bumpy ridges all over. The more I cut, the more natural they came out. It’s as if I've done it before, so I became comfortable slicing them thin.

Now that they were all cut up, I rinsed the knife off before throwing it into the sink, and patted my hands on Jason’s slacks. I’d seen Jason cook this before, so it should be a cinch. Spices were needed first though, where? Ah, the middle cabinet. Opening it, I took stock of them. “Onion powder, garlic powder, thyme, and…” Gathering them up, I scattered them all over the meat. Jason used olive oil to cook it, so I made sure to grab it too.

Heating the skillet, I poured the olive oil, giving it a few moments. All was set, so I threw several slices in. The nice hum of searing meat traveled through my ears. “Mm, that smell,” I said, drool falling down the side of my lip. With eyes closed, I took a big huff through my nose, savoring all of it. Hearing a meow at my feet, I turned my head down. “Phraze, so you smelled it too?” I asked him.

Purring came in return, and the cat stared into my eyes, waiting for its precious meal. I pet his head and said, “It’s nearly done, hold on a second.” The cat stopped purring and hissed at me. Curious, I thought, no way he can tell it’s me.

I sniffed the air, something tingling my nose, “No!” I yelled, the salmon burned while I wasn’t paying attention. As fast as I could, I moved them onto a plate. I sighed and looked at Phraze. “Sorry, buddy, but you’ll have to put up with this. It’s not so bad that it’s not edible.” Plate in hand, I placed it on the floor; in Phraze’s corner.

Phraze lunged for the food. “Your favorite, seared salmon fillet,” I said as he took a bite. “No thanks? Fine, be that way.”

“Now about that wall…,” I said, going through the living room and into the hallway. Once behind the staircase, I tapped the wall. Hmm, a hollow sound, so the memories weren’t wrong.

I stared at it, hand on my chin, the stubbles rubbing on my fingers. I’ve no choice but to come back to this in my own form. A bulge eked out from the wall, what’s this?! My eyes widened, but as it came out more and more, it appeared to be Sam. So, I calmed down.

“Huh!” it yelled, “…Oh, it’s only Jason, if that were Gray…” Leaving what it was saying unfinished, it wandered off, likely looking for me.

“So, you’re hiding things from me.” I scratched Jason’s scalp.

How am I supposed to trust you now, Sam? I asked myself, looking at Sam, who then entered the study. “Not here either,” it said.

“Damn it,” I said, my words hushed. “You’re the only one that’s helped me and yet, you’re hiding the truth from me.”

A thought occurred to me, Sam mentioned once that I could go outside if I possessed Sophie. I made for the front door and turned the knob.

“So, this is all it took.” Hands on his hips, I inhaled a newfound happiness, and gazed at the fresh-cut grass. “Alright, Sam, I’ll find out what you’re up to below this old house.”