Quinn stood up between his dad and Natalie. She hadn't moved, still holding her bag in her lap. Luckily, she'd closed it before he looked in, or he might have seen the inside expanding far beyond the dimensions of the little bag.

  "Dad—" Quinn started.

  "Honey, what's going on?" asked Quinn's mother, finally coming into view. She brushed brown hair out of tired eyes, her face pale and visibly exhausted even in the dim light. At the sight of Natalie in the bed, she dropped her luggage. "What on earth?"

  "...Hi," said Natalie. She glanced around, but again, there wasn't anywhere to run to. Unless she wanted to barrel right through Quinn's parents standing in the doorway, she was pretty much trapped. Unless I want to jump out another window… One was scary enough.

  "She's just a friend from school," Quinn added quickly. Just a friend…? Natalie wondered, before she remembered that was silly. It's not like they'd really said anything else. Yet. If he ever would after this mess.

  "What's she doing in our guest room?"

  "I'm sorry," Natalie murmured, though only Quinn actually heard her.

  "What?" asked Quinn's mother.

  Natalie cleared her throat. She was still a bit wonky from only waking up a couple minutes ago, even with the huge burst of adrenaline. "I didn't mean to be any trouble."

  "I told her she could stay here over the weekend," Quinn lied.

  His dad smiled. They have the same nice smile. "And you didn't tell her when we'd be home? I'm disappointed. You should be better at planning than that."

  Quinn's mom sighed with exasperation, glancing at her husband. "Dear…"

  He nodded. His smile faded. "Q, you really should've asked us first."

  "I know," said Quinn, shamefaced.

  "It's my fault," Natalie cut in. "I didn't give him a lot of time." About thirty seconds, give or take…

  His dad took a step forward, and suddenly the hallway light wasn't blocked anymore. It hit Natalie full in the face, and she recoiled.

  In unison, all three pairs of eyes jumped to the left side of her face. Natalie turned, but it was too late. They'd all seen the scar. Seen her.

  "...Q, could you go wait in the living room, please?" asked his mother.

  "But—"

  "We just need to talk to your friend for a minute," added his father, after a glance at his wife. "Don't worry."

  Quinn shot a worried look at Natalie, but he retreated from the room. Quinn's mother approached and sat down on the edge of the bed — and Natalie tried her absolute best to inch away without being noticed. It didn't work.

  "What's your name?" she asked, not unkindly.

  "Jenny. Jenny Heshire."

  Natalie thought she saw a flicker of recognition cross her face, but she couldn't be sure. "And you go to Jenkins with Q?"

  "Yeah." Natalie took a deep breath. "I didn't ask him permission. I kinda broke in."

  Quinn's dad laughed. "We know. Honestly, you actually solved a mystery for us. The security company our block pays for called when you broke in on Friday."

  "They did?"

  "I kept worrying it might be something worse, but Annette insisted it was probably a glitch. Guess we were both wrong."

  Annette sighed. "Every single other time, it's been a false alarm. I was going by statistics, Damian. Which was your favorite move on every single claim you ever worked."

  "Jenny," continued Damian, dropping down to a crouch in front of her. Natalie managed to resist backing away for once, though it helped that he had pointedly stayed a fair distance away. They caught on quick. Just like Quinn does. "We're not mad, okay? We just want to know what's going on."

  "Nothing," she answered automatically, to a synchronized eye-roll from both of his parents. Natalie realized she didn't know anything about Quinn's parents, which made trying to talk her way out of this little trap a great deal more difficult. She wondered again if she should just make a run for it, try her luck again.

  You know what will happen if you try that.

  "Jenny dear, we weren't born yesterday," said Annette. She reached out a hand to touch Natalie on the shoulder. Natalie could feel it coming like her hand was on fire. She tried to resist, but as soon as it was within a few inches, Natalie moved away again.

  To her surprise, Annette didn't look surprised, or upset, or confused, or any of the other emotions she usually saw. She had a sort of grim satisfaction on her face, something Natalie had seen on Rachel—and on her dad too, way back.

  Damian spoke up. "Do you live nearby?"

  "Kind of."

  "Do your parents know you're here?"

  Which ones? "No."

  He frowned. "But you've been gone since Friday, right? Don't you think they're out looking for you?"

  Well, Dad might be… wherever he is. Natalie shook her head. "They probably haven't even noticed. They never notice when I'm gone."

  "Do you want to go home?"

  Yes. But you can't get me there. "...No."

  Annette glanced at her husband, having another private conversation with only a few looks that Natalie couldn't understand. He nodded.

  Annette spoke up. "Jenny, you know that breaking in isn't okay, right?"

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  She nodded. "I'm sorry. I just… I didn't know where else to go."

  "Well, thanks for not breaking anything on your way in," Damian added with a grin.

  "Would you like to stay here for the rest of the weekend?" asked Annette. "No one sleeps in here, so you're welcome to it."

  Natalie was too nervous to feel any kind of relief. Is this actually happening? "...Yes, please," she whispered.

  His dad stood up, a wide grin on his face. "We were going to have french toast in the morning. How do you feel about bacon?"

  "I love bacon."

  "Excellent."

  "Do you need anything?" Annette asked. "Blanket? Toothbrush? More pillows?"

  "No, thank you," she whispered. She still felt too nervous to raise her voice above a whisper. It felt too good to be true. She sat up straight, and the light from the hallway hit her again, but this time it didn't feel so harsh and revealing.

  "You have beautiful eyes," added Damian. "I've never seen anyone with purple eyes like that before."

  Natalie had totally forgotten about her new eye color in all the commotion. Now that his parents had seen them, she couldn't exactly change them back, and she doubted they'd believe she was wearing those special colored contacts or something. Especially since she had just been asleep, in pajamas and everything.

  "...Thanks?"

  "Don't mind him," said Annette, rolling her eyes again. "It's his job to be nice to pretty girls."

  "Don't forget the pretty guys, too," added Damian.

  "Huh?" asked Natalie, totally lost.

  "My husband decided to waste his bachelor's and his career by becoming a bartender," said Annette, nudging him in the arm.

  "You say waste, I say expand."

  "My neighbor was a bartender," said Natalie, thinking back to John Bell. He'd lived in the house closest to theirs back home. "He was the nicest guy. He used to give me free french fries."

  "Tricks of the trade," said Damian with a wink. "I know that move."

  "Dear, before you embarrass yourself, we really should let Jenny get back to sleep."

  Damian nodded. "Jenny, if you need anything, we're right at the end of the hall, okay? Just knock on the door. Don't worry about waking us up, either."

  "Thank you so much," she whispered.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. "Quinn!"

  In an instant, Quinn appeared in the doorway. "Yes?"

  "How far away is our living room…?" asked Annette pointedly.

  "There's no door, so it's all one room, right?" said Quinn.

  Damian laughed. "Jenny can stay the weekend."

  Quinn threw his arms around his dad. "You're the best, Dad!"

  His parents walked out of the room. "Lights out in ten minutes, Q," he added. "And remember that you still have homework to do for Monday."

  "Yeah, I know."

  As soon as they were gone, Quinn sat down on the end of the bed with a huge grin on his face. "I can't believe they said yes!"

  Natalie's eyes drooped. Now that the adrenaline and relief had both worked through her system, she was starting to feel the fatigue again. She tried to resist it, since she finally had a few minutes alone with Quinn and no one else around, and no huge pressing danger looming over her head like a storm cloud. It didn't matter. The sandman was coming for her again.

  Quinn noticed, too. "Natalie, you okay?" he said, his voice low.

  She nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."

  "You changed… uhh, everything. What happened?"

  Natalie glanced down — at her new golden-blonde hair, the muscles on her arms and legs, plus the changes she couldn't even see like her ears and her eyes. "I dunno. I was trying out something new and I kinda got carried away."

  "You kinda look like an elf," he whispered.

  "I didn't mean to do that, it just kinda happened."

  He grinned. "I think you look amazing."

  Natalie's heart fluttered a little, but she had other concerns on her mind. "But what about your parents? Aren't they gonna think this is weird?"

  "I mean, they already mentioned your eyes and that didn't change much right?" He shrugged. "It'll be okay."

  "You were listening?" she said pointedly, grinning.

  "'Course I was. Wouldn't you?" he said defensively.

  "...Yeah." Actually… Natalie wondered what his parents were saying right then. She was pretty sure they'd be talking about her, and she wanted to know what they were saying. Just in case. But I can't just do that in front of Quinn. Spying on his parents… They're such nice people, too. But I have to know. "Hey Quinn?"

  "Yeah?"

  She let her exhaustion show, even though a fresh burst of fear and trepidation had her awake again for a little while. "I'm really tired."

  "Oh!" He quickly got up and went to the open door. "Yeah. Sorry."

  "Thanks again. For you know. Everything."

  Quinn nodded. "Anytime." He smiled slightly. "See you tomorrow, Natalie."

  She smiled back, and he closed the door behind him. Immediately, Natalie murmured the spell she needed, shifting the sounds around the house. She remembered where the master bedroom was, and soon enough she could hear the rush of water from the faucets as Quinn's parents brushed their teeth, and the slight echoes from the bathroom tile. It took her a few tries to filter out the loud noise, but just as she thought she'd figured it out the noise stopped anyway, and she could hear their voices clearly.

  As she'd expected, Quinn's parents were talking about her.

  "...really just break in? They said nothing was damaged at all…"

  "Well, Q has the only spare key, and it was still in the bowl. So you tell me," said Annette, exasperated.

  "Maybe we left the balcony door unlocked."

  "And she climbed up the wall, did she?"

  "I'm just spitballing."

  "Does it really matter?" Annette sighed. "What matters is what we do about her."

  "Well, she can just stay here, can't she?"

  "For how long?"

  "As long as she likes. I mean… you saw her face… My god…"

  "Dear, we can't legally keep her. And money's tight enough as it is after this week..."

  He sighed. "I know. We should call your friend… what's his name—"

  "David Hoskins, and friend is a bit of a stretch."

  "He's done a few child abuse cases though, right?"

  "Yes. I'll definitely give him a call tomorrow. I don't know anything about this, and it's not like I have a firm to back me up."

  "When I saw her face—"

  "I know."

  "Who does that to a little girl?"

  "She's not that little, Damian."

  "Who does that to anyone?"

  "It's horrible."

  They were silent for a couple minutes, as they finished getting ready for bed. Natalie heard rustling of covers, the click of a lamp, other noises she couldn't identify. She was about to give up and give into exhaustion herself when Damian spoke up again.

  "Well, she's not what I expected."

  What? Did Quinn… did Quinn tell them things about me?

  "We only ever saw the one photo."

  "And she had brown hair, didn't she?"

  "That's really what you got stuck on, dear?"

  "Well, it's a pretty dramatic shift."

  "Hair coloring is still trendy. Don't you get plenty of regulars with crazy hair colors?"

  "Yeah, but they don't usually come out that well."

  "Ah, so you just get the amateurs."

  Damian laughed. "She seems like a nice girl."

  "But at thirteen?" asked Annette exasperatedly.

  "I went on dates at thirteen. It's harmless."

  "Not if she's suddenly moving in." Annette made a strange noise, like a cough. "I don't think you were living with your girlfriend at thirteen."

  "Oh, come on, it's obviously not like that."

  "Girlfriend was his word, not mine."

  He… he what? Natalie lost track of the spell as her mind exploded. Confusion and so many other mixed emotions flooded into her. She felt like she'd just been pulled under the ocean by a tidal wave. He called me… and he told his parents? What? I don't… He said what?

  By the time she unscrambled her brain enough to cast it again and listen in, the whole house was silent. Only the faint sound of breathing and the hum of the electronics and appliances, along with the endless uneven chaos of the city surrounding them. Natalie lay awake staring at the ceiling for a very long time, listening to sirens and horns, the occasional incomprehensible shouting, the random thumps and drones. It was muffled at least, compared to the last night she'd spent in the city, but still it kept her awake.

  Yup, definitely the city keeping me awake. And all the stuff about magic. And my dad. Not Quinn. Nothing about Quinn, or that I'm his… oh.

  But he called me his…

  But I… We're…

  Natalie pressed her face into the pillow and pulled another one over her head, pressing it against her ears, desperate to fall asleep. Her mind kept going in circles, over and over, rapidly switching between hatred, confusion, warmth, relief, joy. All the while, more than anything in the world, she wished she had Gwen and Percy there with her. She could talk to them without fear of screwing things up, and it wouldn't be so horribly complicated and confusing.

  When did my life get so crazy…? Natalie thought as she finally drifted into sleep, where the nightmares came again, as they always did — the one reliable part of her insane life.