He narrowed his eyes at her, laughing nervously. "What do you mean you've killed someone?" "I'm dead serious, babe. We need to get moving. Pack your bags." She throws him a duffel bag, the same one they always used on vacation. He catches it, but drops it, stalking towards her. "Are you going to elaborate? Or am I going to stand here wondering what my wife has been doing today?" "First of all, you're not going to stand there, you're going to pack your bags, and second of all, you're not going to have to wonder, because I'm going to fill you in, as soon as we're save and on the way!" With that, she zips her bag closed, and leaves to get necessities from downstairs. But as she leaves, Noah sees the gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans. He shakes his head disapprovignly. Had she learned nothing? "Kayla.", he calls out to her. Throwing him a glance over his shoulder, she contuines down the stairs. "Yeah?" "Is it loaded?", he reaches her at the bottom of the stairs. She chuckles. "Of course. Of what use is an unloaded gun? You taught me that." "I recall I also taught you a loaded gun can shoot bullets. You're not bulletproof. Did you put the safety on?" She nervously retrieves the gun from where it's tucked against her back. "Uhh... No? I forgot." She scratches her head. I take the gun, put the safety on, and give it back. "You used this?" Kayla shakes her head. "No. I... Kinda pushed her from the window from the sixth floor." Noah pads towards the stairs. Unclenching the floorboard on the bottom of the stairs, he grabs the two black bags, and the target bag filled with money. Kayla stares at the bags. "Emergency bags," He explains. Her jaw just hangs slack. Chuckling, Noah fishes the keys to the car out of the basket with keys and loads the bags into their 2019 Mercedes-Benz. "You knew we'd have to flee?", she shrieks. "Noah! I-" He hushes her by covering her mouth. "We have a neighborhood full of nosy people, babe. Lower your voice." She glares at him over his fingers. "I can't believe this.", it comes out muffled, seeing as his hand is still covering her lips. She was right, he should have told her, but he was afraid she'd leave him if she discovered his past, and then he just forgot about the bags. "We need to go." She removes herself from me and goes to sit in the car. Quietly, he goes to sit beside his wife. "I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have kept it from you." He reaches for her hand. She squeezes it, and offers him a comforting smile. Noah sees she's willing to let it go and forgive him. "It's okay. I wasn't really mad. Just... Shocked." He exhales. He doesn't want to fight with her in a moment like this. They still have a long journey to go. A long journey filled with action and suspense. Filled with romance and happiness. With adventure and thrilling escapades. Filled with love. They would do this together. He looks at her, sees that she's looking at him, with eyes filled with pride and love. "Let's go.", she says. "Let's go", he agrees.

"So, who's going to die today?" I eye him, pinning him with a death stare. "You really shouldn't joke about this, Bryan." "Alright, alright!", he holds his hands up, shriveling under my gaze. "You know I like this as much as you do, Cass." Next to me, Lily picks up one of the colored beads. "Well, let's get this over with, shall we?" After a pause in which everyone eyes each other nervously, we all pick up a bead too. I pick up the red one. Red, the lucky color. Red, the color who murdered my best friend. Red, the color of blood and death. Seems fitting. I feel someone patting my back. Behind me, Emilia is holding the grass green one, gazing at me with sympathy, knowlegde in her eyes. Besides Sophia, she was the only one I knew well enough to find comfort in. Now that Sophia is gone, Emilia is the only thing I have. "It'll be okay. Who knows what happens after? Maybe they're not even gone." But in her eyes I see the uncertainty, as if even she doesn't believe it. I sigh. The last bead is the brown one, and the last person not holding a bead is Logan. He gives me a lopsided grin, picks up the bead, and. Everything. Goes. Black. Again. The ritual is familiar now, but still my hands tremble. My breath comes out in a shaky puff of air. Cold sweat breaks down my back. I squeeze my eyes shut, even though it's already dark. A bang. Dread. Relief. I'm alive. Someone else died. Behind my eyelids, I see the lights turning on again. At first, as always, there's that dreaded silence, where everybody's trying to figure out who was the victim this time. Then a sob. Someone falls to the ground. I bury my head between my knees. I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know. "Millie.", the broken whisper falls through the air. As realization hits me, I lift my head. Bryan is on the ground on his knees, head on the ground, Lily leaning over him, both trembling, holding each other as if their lives depend on it. Millie. Emilia. Bryan's second half. Lily's big sister. My only steady wall in this chaotic mess of a life. No, no. No, no, no, no. No. Only when someone squeezes me against his chest, I realize I'd been screaming it out loud. My vision goes blurry as tears threaten to spill. I'm trembling, I'm dying. I can't breathe. Millie. Why? It should have been me. Millie was good. God knows the only good thing I've ever done is coming here instead of my sister. Logan hushes me, rubs soothing circles on my back, but the only thing that will ever make me okay again, is Millie coming back.

"It's time", I whisper. In front of me, he already started to change. I keep my gaze firmly trained onto his, as he grunts in pain. He begins straining against the silver chains I locked him in. They're just a precaution for the changing progress, as I know that tomorrow I'll have to go to the silversmith again. It's become a monthly meeting, and walking into that shop tomorrow morning, he will raise his hand, grunt a good morning and take the chains, not even bothering to question what happened. "Maya.", he growls. "Undo the chains." He now has a feral, wild expression stuck on his face. I refrain from rolling my eyes and answer, like always: "Will you bite me if I come close, doggy?" He has a pained grin on his face, obviously biting through his pain. "I just might.", he spits out through his teeth. "Elias, Elias.", I sigh. "It hasn't really sunken in yet, has it? If you want something from me, best asking it nicely." He shakes his head, hair flopping in his face. Chuckling, he scolds: "Manners are not something you can start teaching me, shadow girl." I raise a hand, my fingernails long and black, a complete contrast to what they looked like ten minutes before, hot pink and glossy. Looking down at my body, I scan the rags covering it, sighing in pleasure. "Refreshing. Really refreshing." No. Maya, no, not refreshing. I shake my head to clear it from the malicious thoughts and raise it again to stare Elias straight in the eyes, which are starting to become red and menacing. Now they're like that, but after the change I know they'll change back to their usual gold color. The only difference is that then he'll also be covered in fur, have a snout, walk on all fours, and have sharp claws which could kill sheep. Or pigs. Or a fellow werewolf. Or a human. And when he'll have killed that human, maybe I'll kill him, so that I can feast, after which I'll hunt down its entire family— Maya, stop. "The. Chains." The words come out strained, the last word ending in a growl. I need to undo the chains before I'm fully transformed, my will bent by the night-deity part in me. I inhale, and grab the key from around my neck, where it always rests on my collarbones. Elias' face splits in half in a ferocious half-grin, half-snarl. "There you go, witch. Finally." I grin, dangling the key in my hand. "Well, time to let the dog out, isn't it?" I jump, closing in, unlocking the chains, and jumping out of reach in one swift motion. Before he can even growl at me, I'm gone, becoming one with the shadow and hiding from his bloodthirsty, unfamiliar eyes. He howls, his whole bending and reforming, bones crunching, skin ripping. His face elongates, his fangs grow out, his ears fluff out and grow. He gets down on all fours, shaking, and slowly his fur begins to grow. I scoff, recalling the days when I would be so bothered that he was in pain, but now, I revel in his pain. I love seeing how his face contorts and his teeth grit together, hearing how his bones snap and crunch. I shudder with pleasure, and let out a cackle. As soon as the change is done, I'll go out and hunt down a tasty little human to rip apart. I thirst for their blood, long for their flesh. Oh, how very delightful it is to hear their screams of agony rippling through my veins as I tear them apart. The wolfie snarls, the last of his changes ending. Sadly, his agonies are over, which means it's time for me to go. I travel from shadow to shadow, until I reach the well-lit hall of the building. I condemn myself as I recall it was me, the other me, who installed all the lights, to prevent me from exiting this building. That door is the only way out, and currently there's a wolf pounding on it, unable to open it without thumbs. I cackle as he hilariously tries to break out that door, knowing that the other me took safety-precautions for that door too. I untangle myself from the shadow, and step out in the open for Wolfie's eyes to see. I open up my arms, and make a proposal. I'll open the door, he won't attack me, and we'll both be free. Of course I don't say that as soon as I'm out there, I'll just close the door in his face. He growls, seeing through my deception. Well, then there's always Plan B. Rip 'em apart.

—————

I groan, squinting my eyes against the bright sunlight. My limbs ache and my head hurts. Something is moving beside me. I feel a fabric gliding on my arm. I move my head, lifting one hand to shield my eyes from the sun. Elias is beside me, pulling his pants on. I chuckle. "Who undressed you, big boy?" He chuckles back, and hits me with his shirt, before pulling it on. I roll over on my side, and, eyeing me, he says, laughing: "You're not much better, Midnight Princess." I groan, already knowing what I'll see when I look in the mirror later. My hair is a bird's nest, on my face there will be smears of makeup, my eyes bloodshot and dark circles under my eyes. I sit up, noticing the ragged clothes hanging on my body. My shirt is so torn up, it doesn't provide any coverage. By some miracle, my bra is still intact. My grey sweatpants are not as messed up as my shirt, but still irreparably torn. As I look up at Elias, he shoots me an apologetic smile, shrugs and throws me a bundle of clothes. "Sorry for the clothes." I sigh deeply, rubbing my face, and lying back down. "I can't stand up like this. Won't you lie down and sleep some more?" I hold my arms up and open, inviting him to cuddle with me. He doesn't say anything, just gets down and snuggles me close to his chest. We're lying on the cold and hard floor, but I don't mind. Suddenly being what I am, is not so hard anymore, because I'm not alone. One day, we'll get the hang of it, and we'll be able to live a peaceful live, but for now, this is enough for me. "See you next month, Wolfie.", I whisper him goodbye. "Next month, Shadow Girl.", he whispers back. Even though I know she'll come back, I close my eyes, which are still locked onto his, and smile.

Elias' POV coming soon!!

"To love is to burn," he whispers, "To be on fire." Burning, I defenitely am. My stomach is churning, boiling, protesting. The glass that slipped out of my hand lays on the ground. His hand is softly caressing my cheek. Once, the touch comforted me, made me feel safe. Now, the touch leaves a cold trail of shivers behind. Not of pleasure, but of fear. He leans in, his breath hot on my neck. He continues stroking my cheek, supposedly lovingly. But I know he doesn't love me. He's obsessed with me. My lips tremble, but I can't move. My heart is beating slower with the second. I know I don't have much time. "Oh, Selene. If you just could've seen what I was doing for you.", his fingers graze my neck. "Do you feel it? Do you feel your insides burning? That's what it felt like loving you, Selene. It felt like being on fire." I feel a hand snaking its way up my skirt. He squeezes my hip, not gently, not affectionately, but way too hard, and he is hurting me. Hot tears continue flowing out of my eyes. I try not to look at him, look at the ceiling, the lamp, the cupboard I once thought was so innocent. "All I have done," his hand rakes up and down my leg. Goosebumps follow in its wake. "Just so you could see. See that the right person was right in front of you from the very start. Me, Selene. You should have chosen me." No, it's your fault!, I want to say, You were the one who made all the wrong choices!, but the only thing coming out of my throat is gurgling. I can't move, can't speak, can't breathe. His face is the only thing I can see now, floating in front of me, I barely even hear his voice, can't feel his fingers on my leg, I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. "Your eyes say it all, darling. You blame me, because he's gone now, don't you?" He scoffs. "It's not my fault. It's yours." I feel the last warm tear rolling down my cheek as I close my eyes. My fault. He's right. I deserve this, I deserve to die alone with him, because it's all my fault. "Remember, love. Even after, even when your soul leaves, that it's your fault."

My Fault.

"It's caring. It's being able to do everthing for them. It's wanting to do everything for them. It's affection, it's wanting to spent the rest of your days and more with them! It's truly and deeply caring. It's being there for them no matter what. Listening, to guide, it means being able to give up on your career, giving up on your life, your family. True love is supposed to be everything for you." He looks at me, frowning. I can see in his green-hued face he doesn't agree. "Love... The concept of love is not a common topic of conversation where I come from, but from how I see it, love is understanding. It's knowing the limits of your partner, it's getting what they're feeling, it's security, safety, respect. Understanding each other's values, having faith in each other, making the effort to make your partner feel at ease and safe in your arms, in your company. That's how I view love." "I think we can both agree that love is commitment, spending time and passion." I cock my head and lift my brow. He smiles softly. "Oh, yes we can. Love is making the effort." I lean closer, stroke his cheek, feel his pulse on his neck. His breath hitches, but he looks at me like I'm the only girl he's ever seen. Which, technically, is true, as I'm the only human girl he's ever seen. "Love is also..." I lean even closer, but he preceeds me, and presses his lips on mine. "This.", he finishes for me. "This.", I agree.

I watch as my sister walks down the aisle. A dozen of kids follow her wake. The man in the straight flowy dress on the altar. He has a nice hat, like Saint Nicholas. My sister is dressed in white, my cousin too. They are both smiling, they seem really happy. As they reach the altar, they kneel, and mom and dad begin to sing. When I look around me, baffled, I see everyone is singing, actually. Mom is wearing a dress, and even dad has a nice black jacket on. They're both smiling, and clapping their hands on the beat. Then suddenly the music dies down, and my sister and her best friend get up. The man in the big dress lays his hands on my sister and my cousin's forehead, in turn. He appears to be murmuring something. Something I don't understand. My sister turns, and when she sees me, her face lights up and she waves. I squeal, and wave back. Mom laughs and pulls me down, I didn't even notice I got up. Then my sister comes to me, and she sits down, next to mom and me. She grabs my hand, kisses my cheek, and whispers something in my ear. I don't understand what she says, but I know she loves me, and I know she'll always be there for me, no matter what. One day I'll be able to tell her. One day.

"Oh, come on! Please?", he grabs my hand and pulls me back when I try to walk away. "Just this one time, I need it!" "You need it? So you ignore me all day and when you need it, you think I'll be glad to help you?" He pouts. "Ami, I didn't ignore you. You know I've been very busy lately, I just haven't had time for you." I scoff. He hadn't had time for me. "Bye, Eljiah. See ya tomorrow. If you'll have time for me then." I turn, roughly pulling my hand out of his. What kind of boyfriend is he? He doesn't have time for me, but when it comes down to my magic, he has all the time in worlds to beg and try to make me work for him and his stupid company? Hah, no way. I lift my arm to twist the doorknob on the heavy wooden door, but just as my fingertips touch the metal, the door slams in my face. I barrel into Eljiah, standing behind me, crying out loud: "What the-" Holding my nose, I peer in between my fingers at the person who just demolished my nose. I think I broke a nail, too. "God, I'm so sorry, Amelia, was that you? Oh, heavens, look at your nose!" Claude fusses over me, grabbing my hand and examining my nose. I feel something warm trickling down. Great. A hand comes down on mine and Claude's. Gently Elijah tugs my hand out of Claude's and holds it in front of my stomach. "Ami, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been such an asshole. I understand if you don't want to help me, and it's absolutely okay. I'll just pull an all-nighter and figure it out myself." He kisses my cheek. I lean back, reveling the feel of his broad chest on my back. Then I look at Claude. "Did you need something?" She smiles, relieved, and then yanks my hand back from Eljiah's. "Ami, I need your help." Oh, God, not her too. "You don't say." "Why would Claude storm into my private office other than for the reason of needing Amelia's help?", Elijah's voice rumbles in his chest. Claude blushes. "This time, it has nothing to do with magic. I need your help-help." She looks left and right, even though it's a private office, and there's no one besides me and Eljiah, and whispers: "It's a boy. I need girl advice." I grin, while Eljiah chuckles and releases me. "I'll be with you in a sec, Claude. Just let me... clen myself up.", I tell her. After she leaves, I turn to Eljiah, hyper-aware of his closeness, and the fact that blood is still dripping down my nose. I can taste the iron-y tang of the red fluid in my mouth. It's probably all over my teeth, too. "I'll uh, go clean up." His face softens and he smiles. "You do that, I'll begin to face that giant stack of work I have left."

The water in the sink turns a rose red shade of color when I put my whole face under the jet of water. My hair unravels from the loose braid I'm wearing and trickles down into the sink. I huff, whisking it behind my ear. I straighten and look into the mirror. My hazel eyes stare back at me. My mouth and chin still have a pinkish shade, even though I scrubbed hard enough to rub my skin off. When I come out of the bathroom, Eljiah is standing with his back to me in front of his big bulletin-board. Faces, places and names are pinnen all over it, its green surface so full of dots it's not even green no more. The poor boy is whacking his brain over this case for weeks now, but he just can't seem to find any more clue. The evidence all leads to a certain Daniel Rose. It would've been perfect, if it wasn't for the fact that Daniel had worked twenty years at the bureau. He'd never hurt a soul. We'd already stated it couldn't have been him. That's why Eljiah wanted to engage me in the case, using my magic to find the killer and end this case once and for all, clearing Daniel. I gladly would've helped him, but my magic has had a bit of... Problems, lately. I approach Elijah. You know what? Screw it, I'll do it. It wouldn't hurt anyone, would it? Well, I didn't know that for sure, but with my magic I could relieve my boyfriend from a lot of weight off his shoulders. I'd just be selfish if I didn't help him. I brush my fingertips over his shoulders. "Hey." He swirles around, startled. I laugh. He so easily agitated. He smiles when he sees it's me, and pulls me close with his hands around my hips. I press my cheek into his chest, and he squeezes me comfortingly. "Hey, babe. Did you get the blood off?" I grimace. "Almost. My nose and hands both still hurt, though." "I'm sorry. Can I console you with a kiss?" I hum, tapping my finger to my bottom lip, supposedly thinking. "It would have to be a really long, passionate kiss, to make this much pain just dissappear." "I can arrange that for you. Would Monday afternoon at four P.M. work for you?" "I'm sorry, I have someting scheduled at that time. What about... Now?" "That would be...", his breath is warm behind my ear. "Perfect." The word is whispered into my hair. He drops a kiss behind my ear, on my neck, then on the crook where my neck meets my shoulder. I inhale, shuddering, and pull him thighter to me. He pulls at my sleeve, sliding the fabric down my shoulder, followed with a trail of kisses. Trembling, I draw his face back up to mine, and press my lips to his cheek. Then I brush a feather-light kiss on his nose, laughing when he tangles his fingers in my hair to tug me down. He reaches for my lips, but I pull back, teasing him. "Ami.", he groans, "You're killing me." I grin widely, thrilled. Then I yank him in so hard he braces himself on the wall behind me. He laughs, pressing me against the wall. I peer into his beautiful amber eyes. My mouth opens slightly, and my eyes dip to his beautiful, full lips, which are now pulled up into a half-smile. He moves closer and closer, and just as he finally presses his lips on mine, the door slams open once more. A seething Claude is standing middle in the doorway. "So much for 'I'll be with you in a sec', huh? If you are done sucking face, I would really like to talk to my best friend!" Eljiah chuckles. "Better go quick, Amelia, or your friend will probably eat us alive." "Ha ha. You go and make fun of my eating habits, but you're no different, dog." At this he seems really offended. "Hey, firstly, it's wolf, not dog, and secondly, I don't eat live animals daily." They're facing each other, both in a defensive stance, as if they're ready to pounce on each other and rip each other to shreds. I make my way in between them and hold my hands up. "Okay... That's enough, you both. Claude, let's go. Elijah, bye, see you soon, I guess. If I'm still alive." Elijah chuckles while I duck to dodge Claude's hook. Then I grab her sleeve and drag her out, waving a last time at Elijah over my shoulder. Once we're standing outside, I turn to Claude. "All right. Spill the tea.", I cross my arms and wait patiently for her to tell everything. She puffs, setting her hands on her hips. "Finally! Okay, first thing you gotta know," she lowers her voice to a whisper, "It's not a boy. Actually it's about the case Elijah is working on. I might have found a witness, but..." "You ate them?" "No!", she pokes me in my upper arm. "He's kinda... dead? I think?" I scrunch up my face. I'd heard that there were dead people communicating with the living, but only with close relatives. I've never heard of a wraith, ghost or sluagh talking to another person that blood relatives. "Ghost?", is the only word I can think of. "No, he's not dead-dead. He's... in the middle of dead and undead, I think. He's certainly not alive." "A deity?" "No, he is human. Listen, just come over to my place tomorrow, and you'll see for yourself. Now I gotta go." "Wait! You said he's a witness, but why'd you come to me, and not to Eljiah himself?" "Ugh.", she rubs her browline, with a sour look on her face. "I don't know, just a gut-feeling." She really looked troubled, as if she was nauseous, but the way she said it betrayed there was something she was holding back. I narrowed my eyes to slits and took her arm in my hand. "Claude, I'm here. If there's something you don't want to tell him, tell me. I won't blabber to Elijah." "But he's your boyfriend." "Yes, but if it's important to you...", I don't need to finish, because she interrups me. "Fine. The killer is who Elijah thinks he is. But he didn't do it." I remain silent, stunned. Elijah's main suspect is Daniel Rose, my father. But I knew him too well, I grew up with him. He could never have killed anybody. That was just... impossible. Claude was staring at me with a mixture of pity and suspense, as if waiting for my reaction, but already anticipating it. Instead of freaking out, which I kinda was, inside, I pinched my lips on each other and blinked, trying to clear the fogginess in my head. Then the door behind me slams closed. Elijah is standing there, open-mouthed. Judging from his expression, he'd been there long enough to hear the last thing Claude said. Claude was still standing in front of me, but now she had clapped her hand on her mouth, staring wide-eyed at my boyfriend over my shoulder. She made a strangled noise, and fled away. "I can't believe she'd keep that from me!", Elijah bursts out. Then he looks at my face, and in one second, he's by my side. "Hey.", he says, soflty, tilting my chin up. "Are you okay? Come on, let's sit down." "No. I gotta find dad. Now." "Ami..." "Stop. I need to find him, whatever it takes. I'll use the searching spell Mariah gave me the other day. Elijah, I need you to either help me, or just go away, please. I can't use judgement or complaint." "Of course I'll help you, Ami. You got that spell memorarized?" "Yeah. Let's do it. You got candles?" He looks at me like I asked if he had a tabel in his office. "Of course. I have witch girlfriend, I have candles." I smile, and he pulls me inside after him. It takes just a minute to set up the candles and the charcoal, but the chalk mandala-like drawing I have to make, is a bit more complicated. I start in the middle, like always, and trace big curvy lines, to match the tattoo I have on my shoulderblades. Then I sit in the middle of the circle I created, and take a deep breath, putting my hands on my knees. The most important thing of performing a spell, is being at peace with your core. If the magic in your core feels even a bit of commotion, it'll freak out. Magic is sensitive. Elijah puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. I welcome the feel, letting myself sink in the happy memories I created with Elijah, Claude, my father, friends and family. When I feel absolute peace, I begin to chant the spell. The foreign words, now familiar, tumble from my lips, forming a song, forming the chain what will call up the magic from my core. Then I picture dad, and try to compel the spell to find him. Faces rush by, familiar and unfamiliar, people I've seen before in my life. Looking for that one face, I bend and bend the spell. There! In a corner of my mind, there's finally my dad's tanned face, covered by a soft white beard. He's smiling at me, or rather, the person he is with in real life. I feel happiness surge through me, relief, and then worry. No, no, no, I can't let negative emotions take over my mind. Dread settles low in my belly. God, no! The power of the magic surges through my veins, stronger than ever. If the spell goes wrong... I push away the thoughts, and think of Elijah, standing next to me, holding me, but then I realize his hand is not there anymore. I open my eyes, and frantically look around me. The words still stumble out my mouth, now a lot less precise than first. I don't seem to be in the office anymore. Instead, I'm in the middle of a storm. A big, raging, purple storm. The thunder booms in my ears, almost defeaning me. I realize it's not a storm. It's my magic gone wild. Panic shoots through my heart. My mind is reeling with worrying thoughts and fear, and I stumble over the words of the spell, repeating and repeating. The storm grows louder, wilder and the energy around me multiplies. I am full on hyper-ventilating now, my breaths becoming short and ragged, like I just ran a marathon. I look around me, from side to side, in front of me, behind me, but everywhere I look, there are the deep purple clouds, crackling with my magic. I can't let this storm grow any bigger, it'll destroy the whole city, who knows what happened to Elijah. Elijah. I stop chanting immediately, sobbing, bending in half, resting my forehead on the floor, waiting for this nightmare to just stop. Just. Stop. The wind surging through my hair gradually lies down, and all of a sudden, it's all quiet. No more thunder, no more energy sparking, no more wind sweeping in my ears. I look up, tears staining my cheeks, wetting my neck and shirt. I see Elijah's desk, everything that lay on it scattered around the office. Frantically, I search for Elijah, and in a corner I see him, slumped against the wall. He's facing away from me, but the blood on his head is very visible. I gasp, the scream catching in my chest. I did that. I stand up, too quickly, and get dizzy, my vision going black and dotted, but I don't let that stop me. I take two steps, but then I have to stop, grabbing the edge of Elijah's desk to keep me upright. The use of magic has weakened me, and the sitting made my legs cramp. Suddenly I feel a hand clamping down on my wrist. "God, Ami, you scared me! For a moment I thought you didn't have it under control. I'm glad you're fine." He pulls me in for a hug, and I let him, sinking into his warm embrace. I rest my cheek on his chest, reveling in the sound of his heartbeat thumping against his chest. Then a thought dawns on me. I look up, at Elijah's eyes, and he looks at me fondly. But if Elijah's here with me, then who...? I swirl around, towards the man slumped against the wall. Now I calmed down a bit, I can see that his clothes, posture and hair don't look like Elijah's at all. My boyfriends grip on me tightens. "Ami...?", he says, hesitantly. I breathe in, and muster the courage to approach the man. When I reach him, I turn him around... "Dad?" Elijah makes a choking sound behind me. "Fuck.", he takes me into his arms, and turns my head into his chest once again, so I don't have to see the scene in front of me. Too bad I already saw it. My dad's face all burned at crumpled up. One of his eyes is missing, the other wide open, glassy and staring into nothing. His skin looks grey, but I can't believe it, won't believe it. Father is not dead. I did not kill him. That's when Elijah softly strokes my hair, and that's when I crumble. I break down in heavy sobs, crying out loud into his chest, my shoulders shuddering deeply. I hear Elijah's deep voice softly talking to me, but I can't make sense of anything he's saying, because I did it. I killed someone, and that someone... Dad is not coming back. He's gone, he passed on, he's with mom now, and I'll never talk to him again, never give him one last hug, never be comforted by his wise words, never get hear one of his cheesy dad-jokes again. The Elijah squeezes my shoulder, and turns my head upwards. "Ami, look.", he whispers urgently. I shake my head, not wanting to say goodbye to dad just yet. I just want to drown in Elijah's arms, never wake up again, and sink into my sorrow. But Elijah forces my head up once again, and this time he has taken one of dad's hands in his, with the wrist turned upwards. "Look. Closely.", Elijah urges me. "Don't you notice something?" He's right, the tattoo of the axe my father had is not there. "That's not dad."