I spend the night hours outside watching Declan and Tally play. Somehow, they survive the elemental exhibition unscathed. I can’t say the same for my nerves.

After they’ve worn themselves out, we head back inside. Declan takes the opportunity to give me a full tour of their home while Tally goes off to make herself presentable. Even with her hair twisting every which way, she’s still beautiful. So unfair.

“She’s not your sister, is she?

“She is in all the ways that matter,” Declan counters. “I was with Ryan for a hundred years before we found Tally. They’re my family, though we aren’t bound by blood.”

“You were looking for her?”

He grimaces. “She made her presence known.”

I follow him up a winding staircase leading to another level. There are walls upstairs, unlike the paneled dividers used downstairs. The grayscale theme persists.

“How old are you?”

“I’m well into my fourth century,” he replies proudly.

“Right.”

“I suppose you find that inconceivable,” he accuses.

I wouldn’t have guessed him to be older. “The way you two act, you don’t seem—”

“Mature,” he answers for me, smiling wryly.

I snort. “Not mature, no.”

“Imagine having a younger sister,” he offers. “She annoys you, follows you around, tests your limits, and basically does everything in her power to effectively drive out any trace of sanity you have.”

Tally’s capable of most those things, except the following part. She strikes me more as a leader, content in the spotlight. Beyond content. Stardom is mandatory for her.

“Now imagine that for three hundred years.” He winks, opening a door at the end of the hall.

“Glad I’m an only child.” I cringe. “It’s a blessing you’re both still standing.”

“Or a curse,” he rebuts. “Ryan’s helped us in incredible ways. So, in a sense, he’s a father to us. We treat him as such. As often as I’ve considered carving out my own path—I’ve left before—I always find myself terribly lonely without them.”

He leads me into a music room. There are instruments placed neatly on shelves or hung ornamentally on the walls. An entire wall is full of LPs, eight tracks, cassettes, CDs, and more. The back wall has shelving units for machines to play music. It’s an acoustic museum.

“We only tapped into the ability to listen, outside the experience, in the last hundred years,” he explains, walking me to a machine resting on a table in the far corner. “It all started here.”

I carefully run my fingers along the large, bell-shaped top. “What’s this?”

“Thomas Edison was a brilliant man,” Declan says affectionately. “This is a phonograph.”

Pure passion radiates from him. The intensity is contagious. “Wow.”

“It’s a cool bedroom,” he admits.

“There’s no bed,” I whisper.

“We don’t sleep,” he reminds me.

“Right.” I file that fact. “What else can’t we do?”

“While Wind Chimes would love to focus on what we can’t do, wouldn’t it be more fun to focus on what we can do?” interrupts a snarky voice from behind us.

“What can we do, Tally?”

“Have you noticed your senses are heightened?”

As Declan passes by me, I breathe in his Delphinium and Allspice. “You all smell of flowers and spices.”

Tally laughs. “It changes the closer you get to your transition.”

“She might not transition,” Declan corrects her.

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She grunts dismissively. “Your sight. Any notable increase?”

I shake my head.

“The gradients will pop after being introduced to Tally’s grayscale,” Declan advises.

“Things aren’t black and white here because of my stellar taste,” Tally claims. “It drives me nuts when colors don’t match.”

“You could do wood,” I suggest.

Her eyes widen in horror. Uh oh. Wood would fall under the category of earth. Her domain. Did I offend her? Is it wrong to hope I did?

“You can use the same stain for the wood, even wood from the same tree, and the color won’t be the same. Wood absorbs stain asymmetrically. It’s never right,” she drones on.

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

Nor did you care, Superego snips.

“She spent several decades trying, unsuccessfully, to match it,” Declan informs me.

Tally gives him a stink-eye. “I’m responsible for the decorative flair in this family. I take the job very seriously. Don’t buck the beautifier is the one warning I’ll offer you. As far as decorating, I use shape and design over color.”

“Enhanced hearing?” Declan presses on.

“Hard to say. I’m good at blocking people out.”

Tally rolls her eyes.

“You were. Could be rough now,” Declan notes.

Knowing what I can do makes keeping the fire contained harder, almost like scratching a bug bite you weren’t aware of. Now, suddenly, you can’t stop itching. Still, rough or not, I’ll be avoiding people extra diligently. Honestly, I’ve spent my life actively avoiding humans, so upgrading to a total social hermit won’t be particularly challenging.

What about that sledgehammer? Superego pokes.

Not that I intended to seek Derry Connell out, but the idea of never seeing him again sends disappointment blazing through the crack he left.

Tally snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Sheyla.”

Declan finger-drums my forehead. “Temperature check.”

“I’m cool. Sorry, I sometimes space out. It’s a coping mechanism,” I mutter, embarrassed. “Things need to change.”

“You say that like it’s bad,” Tally quips.

“What specifically?” Declan pushes.

“School,” I lie. “It’s too risky being there.”

“No riskier than it was before,” Tally argues. “Actually, less so now. You get how important it is to contain yourself. You were doing an okay job of it. Regardless, that’s what humans do. They live dangerously. It’s their trademark.”

“Sheyla could be right,” Declan disagrees. “We should ask Ryan.”

“Ryan will tell her she needs to continue her education,” Tally grouses. “Quitting isn’t an option.”

“This is different, Tally,” Declan contends. “He wasn’t trying to keep us human. We’d already changed.”

“If she’s staying human, which I personally think is a pipe dream, she’ll need to carry on with her tragically unfulfilling human life. If she can’t stay human, which is her more plausible future, she should enjoy it while she has it.”

I eye her suspiciously. What’s up her sleeve? I can’t picture her helping me make the most of the time I have left, however long that is. I agree with Declan. Maintaining routines is dangerous. My transition has significant disaster potential.

“Don’t listen to Gloomy Gale. You’ll enjoy your remaining time,” she clips, “even if I have to make you.”

Tally wants to live as a human. She plans to live vicariously through me since she can’t do that on her own. She needs this more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life. I can’t not give it to her. “We’re graduating in a few months,” I reason. “I should finish high school or at least try. I wouldn’t want to relive the nightmare.”

“Brave of you,” Ryan remarks, stepping past her. “It took Tally two or three runs to get it right.”

She huffs and stomps up the hallway to what I assume is her bedroom. When the door slams, I hear several disgruntled conversations ensue.

Declan whistles low. “She takes talking to herself to a whole new level.”

“It bothers me to see her upset,” I murmur, “despite not liking her very much.”

“She’ll grow on you,” Ryan assures me.

“Like a fungus,” Declan adds.

“You just remind her of what she’s lost. She’s envious of you,” Ryan insists.

“Why would she be envious of me?” I crinkle my nose. “She has everything a girl could want. People love her, and she doesn’t have to stress over hurting them.”

A strange look passes between them. “I heard a rumor the sun’s coming out today,” Ryan redirects. “Would you care to watch the sunrise, Sheyla?”

Dawn’s my favorite time of day. It’s the only surprise I look forward to. Will the sun breach the grim northern climate, or will it be left blanketed by the clouds? During the transition from night to day, the hope bus honks loudly. I live for the occasional sunrises I see, held captive by the immeasurable force of the light as it puts the unattainable in reach.

Ryan leads me to a balcony stretching across the eastern side of the house. “I prefer the rising to the falling.” He lets out a long, contented sigh. “It’s a second chance. We can leave the darkness behind and start fresh.”

I shrug.

“Beginnings are a blessing, Sheyla. You can choose how you want to develop. Your options are endless.”

“It isn’t the options that have me worried, Ryan. It’s the funeral pyre.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to prevent that,” he promises.

“If you can’t?” Sparks flicker inside me as the sun peeks over the seemingly endless water.

He smiles. “We aren’t discussing can’t right now, remember?”

Enhanced senses? Certainly a can. No sleep? Who’d complain about more time? More time is a can. I hone in on the positives as I’m in no way ready to hear the negatives.

We sit in silence, following the sun as it graces us with its presence. I allow my body to soak up the rays, soak up hope this new day could be the beginning of a healthier me. Perhaps it’s my true beginning.

Tally and Declan join us. They’re staring in fascination at the bright light ascending while I’m staring at them. I see the prospects through their eyes. I share their awe.

Tally bats her lashes. “Like what you see, Heat Stroke?”

I glower at her.

“Get your fill,” she goads. “It’s the last safe light show you’ll see. This tunnel you’re entering is a long and dark one.”

I savor the momentary reprieve. While it won’t last, and things will grow progressively difficult, I bask in dawn’s awakening, wanting to experience the glories around me. Hope ignites my spark in a new way. With similar contentment radiating off the people I’m quickly coming to accept as family, I’m as strong as the sun fighting the ominous clouds.