The smell of bacon and cinnamon swirled through the bedroom.

  Dad's making bacon and pancakes again…?

  Her eyes drifted open, staring at an unfamiliar wall, in an unfamiliar bed. It took her a minute to remember where she was, and that she was safe there.

  The door was closed tight. Apparently, Natalie had forced it to grow slightly to wedge into the frame overnight, in the same way as a spell she'd read about. She wondered if any of the Kincaids had tried to open it during the night. Hurriedly, she made it shrink again, as quietly as she could, then made the bed. She changed out of her pajamas and opened up her purse wide, trying to pick clothes they might consider normal.

  She ended up wearing one of her nicer plain dresses, with shorts and warm leggings underneath to stave off the chill of Quinn's place. In the mirror, Natalie still resembled a young version of the elf warrior — golden-blonde hair, purple eyes, pointed ears and everything… except for the scar she couldn't change. Natalie thought about reversing everything, going back to how she looked before, but she felt like that would just raise more questions from the Kincaids — if she could even do it right.

  She stepped away, about to leave the room, but stopped. Reluctantly, she grabbed out her thick green army jacket and threw that on too. One last glance around the room, and it looked like she hadn't been there at all.

  A soft knock at the door. Natalie slowly opened it, and found herself face-to-face with Quinn.

  "Hi."

  "Breakfast?" he asked.

  "Yes, please."

  He lead her down the hall into the living room, where his parents were waiting at the kitchen table, doling out pieces of french toast. A plate of still-sizzling bacon sat in the center, ready to go. Natalie felt another pang of nostalgia as she sat down, but brushed it away.

  "So Jenny," said Damian. "What're you drinking?"

  "Dear, please…" said Annette.

  "Orange juice?" said Natalie hesitantly.

  "Orange juice it is!"

  "Jenny, you just moved to Seattle, right?" prompted Annette, while her husband went into the kitchen.

  "Yeah. In June." Because Kendra wouldn't open a door for a whole month… "I was born in Chicago."

  Quinn raised his eyebrows, and Natalie remembered she hadn't told him that part. He didn't say anything though, thankfully.

  "Ah, so big cities are business as usual for you," said Damian, setting down a glass of bright yellow juice in front of her.

  "Not… not really." Natalie shook her head. "I haven't lived in a city in a long time."

  "She and her dad lived in a small town," said Quinn, jumping in. He's trying to get them off me, she realized. He doesn't even know how dangerous this topic is… "She was totally lost on her first day walking home."

  "Oh, you walked her home?" asked Damian, his eyes twinkling.

  Quinn's face got red. "Yeah, so? I was just being nice."

  "Of course. No other reason."

  "Would you stop teasing our son?" said Annette, exasperated.

  He called me his girlfriend… Is that what I wanted? I like Quinn a lot, but… I don't know.

  He told them without asking you.

  After a few mouthfuls, Damian spoke up again. "So Q, how much homework did you pile up for today?"

  Quinn shook his head. "I got most of it done already."

  Annette looked up sharply. "You did? When?"

  "...In California," he said, shrugging.

  Damian laughed. "So that's what you were doing all day in your room?"

  "Well I had plans today," said Quinn, with a sideways glance at Natalie. Her ears got hot. She quickly dug into her french toast, not wanting to look up at anyone at the table.

  "Slow down there, Jenny," said Damian. "Don't choke on it."

  Natalie slowed down, though she still didn't want to look up at them. She wondered how long it would take Quinn to catch on to the teasing. Half of her just wanted to shout it out right away, but now that she knew he hadn't actually said it, she was worried what he might think.

  Of course, her fears doubled over a moment later as the topic shifted.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "You're lucky we booked our trip back last week," said Damian. "Apparently, getting a flight out here right now is impossible."

  "Is it now?" asked Annette mildly.

  "I heard it from Phil. Said there's such a huge uptick over the last couple days that they might declare a state of emergency. People are flooding in from all over the country. Some people even further away."

  "Oh, honestly," sighed Annette. "What do they think they're going to find?"

  "Magic, duh," said Quinn.

  Natalie looked up, surprised. She hadn't really understood what they were talking about. She hadn't looked up anything on the news, too afraid of what might be there. About her, her father, about any of them.

  "What do you mean?" asked Annette.

  "It's the big trending tag of the weekend," said Damian, while Annette fished another piece of bacon off the center plate. "Supposedly, if you go to the Rallsburg site, you can learn how to do magic."

  Oh… oh no. That's… not totally wrong. I mean, it's not likely, but if someone finds a Scrap or something floating around…

  "That sounds crazy," said Quinn, with a straight face.

  "That's what I said," agreed Annette, throwing Damian a look.

  He shrugged. "Do you see me packing my bags for a road trip? I'm with you."

  "But people are gonna try anyway, right?" asked Quinn.

  "Sure," said Damian, nodding. "Probably won't affect us too much up here. Most of it's gonna be south of SeaTac. Olympia's gonna be a mess though."

  "Thus the governor's state of emergency?" asked Annette.

  "Probably. I mean, Rallsburg's right on the border of a national park. They're not gonna be happy about people trampling all over. It was bad enough with the huge FBI sweeps."

  "It's such a nice park, too," sighed Annette.

  "Yeah. I loved it there," said Natalie.

  They all looked at her, slightly surprised. Natalie shrunk in her chair a little. "Sorry," she murmured.

  Damian laughed. "Not at all, Jenny. Feel free to jump in any time."

  "If you don't, my husband will never shut up," added Annette.

  "Isn't that why you married me?"

  "And I regret it every single day," she sighed. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, before taking their plates into the kitchen to clean. "But really, dear, speak your mind at our table. We don't mind."

  "I'm…" Natalie paused. "We don't really have family dinners." Kendra and Lily mostly just sit there on their laptops working all day… doing whatever it is they do. They just ask what I want to eat and make it.

  "We have dinner every weeknight," explained Quinn. "And breakfast instead on Sundays."

  "That's the same as my dad always did."

  Annette looked curious, which made Natalie even more uncomfortable. She wished she could just keep quiet, but for whatever reason, being around Quinn and his family made her want to speak up.

  "Jenny," she started slowly. "Did something happen to your father?"

  Natalie hesitated. She hated lying, but she couldn't tell them the truth. "...Kinda. I don't know where he is anymore."

  "And your mother?"

  "We left her when I was seven. She… she wasn't good."

  Quinn's hand inched toward her, and she could tell he wanted to hold hers. A moment later, he moved away. She was grateful — both for the initial gesture, and for remembering that she couldn't return it.

  Damian noticed it too, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He had a towel in his hands and was wiping down a plate, but she saw his eyes flicker over to that corner of the table. They're all like that. Just like Quinn. They don't miss anything.

  "Do you need somewhere to stay?"

  "Dear—" Annette started, but Damian kept going.

  "Like we said before, that room's always empty."

  Natalie had no idea what to say. On the one hand, the meal had been wonderful. Everything she'd been missing, without really understanding it. She'd missed having breakfast with a family, even if it wasn't her family. Sitting down for dinner with her dad every day, talking about the whole day together, figuring out what had happened and what came next.

  She hadn't had that in so long, she felt like she was going to explode.

  But this wasn't her family. More importantly, the moment the news broke, they wouldn't want her around anymore. Not with what she'd done. Who she was.

  They'll find out. Better from you than from anyone else, right?

  "No," she murmured. "Better never."

  "What was that, sweetie?" asked Annette.

  You can't avoid it. You have to face it or you're never going to survive.

  She just wanted the voice to shut up and leave her alone, but it made too much sense for her to ignore it. She had to tell them, so they knew what sort of person they were inviting into their home. How she didn't deserve such kindness.

  Tell them.

  "Can I talk to you in private?" she asked quietly.

  Quinn looked surprised. His parents, doubly so.

  "Please," she added, as if it somehow made a difference. She avoided eye contact with Quinn. She couldn't tell him. That was too far. She'd tell his parents first. They seemed like they might know what to do—and in the worst case, she could run, and Quinn wouldn't have to know.

  "Q, give us a minute?" said Annette.

  "And some actual privacy this time," Damian added with a significant look.

  Quinn nodded. He left the room, and Natalie could tell he was confused and a little hurt. She felt awful, but she couldn't bring herself to say it in front of him.

  Annette came to sit on one side of the table, while Damian took the other. They waited patiently, while Natalie worked up the courage to open her mouth again.

  Visions of the men in Rallsburg flashed through her mind, and of her father with the golems. The town exploding and collapsing, the battles. The way it felt to force a bolt of lightning through a person.

  Natalie shuddered.

  "Jenny, are you all right?" asked Damian seriously, lowering his voice slightly.

  "Yes," she whispered — she lied.

  Another memory burst onto the surface. John Bell. Golems. He'd been her neighbor. She'd found him in the rubble, pulled him free with her bare hands and magic. She led him, bleeding and stumbling behind her, to the market door at the Kettle and Bones — or where it was supposed to be. She'd pounded so hard that her fist went through the wall, begging for help.

  Natalie watched him die again, as she did in her nightmares. In her mind she screamed at herself to turn away. Screamed at him to run. Shouted for the whole world to do something. Anything to change his fate.

  She couldn't see the table in front of her anymore. Tears were filling her eyes. "I'm sorry," she choked out.

  "No, honey!" Annette leaned forward to hug her, but Natalie shrunk away, and that only brought on even worse emotions. She wanted to be hugged. To be held. But even someone she consciously knew was on her side was too much, too close.

  Natalie bolted from the table. Quinn's parents stood up too, but she had no idea what else they did, if anything. She retreated to the guest room, swinging the door shut behind her with a spell. The window swung shut, the blinds fell down. With just a thought, Natalie blocked out the door, the window, everything. The room fell into total darkness, where she couldn't see the scars anymore. She couldn't see herself, or anything else at all, and nothing could see her.

  She sat down against the side of the bed, buried her face in her dress, and cried.