Chapter Nine

Meena

On the drive home I contemplated what I’d need to make for dinner. But then I remembered we still had spaghetti left over from last night. Score. Now I’d have time to veg out with a book and my cats.

Several chapters into my latest read my stomach growled. I checked the time on my cell. Dad must be running late. My stomach said it was time for food. I made a bowl of spaghetti and ate it cold. Yum. Most people liked cold pizza. I never understood why they had issues with cold spaghetti. It was carbs and red sauce with meat and cheese just like pizza.

Pumpkin and Marshmallow agreed with my theory, because they sat on the kitchen table watching every bite I took. When the bowl was half empty, Pumpkin reached out and put his paw on the lip of the bowl and then not so sneakily pulled it toward himself.

“Excuse me.” I pulled the bowl back to its original spot. I’d share when I was done.

“Meowowow.” Pumpkin thought it was his turn already.

“In a minute.”

Marshmallow glanced at the bowl but didn’t try to steal it. She was far more polite or maybe just more secure in her place on the food hierarchy. Pumpkin had been known to take a bite of my sandwich at the same time I did. He was always so casual about it, like he thought taking a bite while I literally had the other side of the sandwich in my mouth was acceptable feline behavior.

I ate two more forkfuls and decided I was done. “Now it’s your turn.” I spooned some out onto the table for Marshmallow and gave Pumpkin the bowl. My dad wouldn’t have approved, but I’d wipe the table down before he came home. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

I’d just cleaned off the table when my cell rang. My dad’s name appeared on the screen. “Hey, Dad. I already ate, but I saved some spaghetti for you.”

“Do you know what day it is?” he asked.

“Wednesday?” I didn’t pay much attention to the day or the dates in the summer because I preferred to be blissfully unscheduled.

There was a beat of silence. I wondered if the call had dropped. “Dad?”

“It’s your mom’s birthday.”

Guilt made my stomach clench. “Are we going to visit her?”

“Yes. I’m picking up a cake and then I’ll come get you. Be there in twenty.”

“Sounds great,” I lied. The only response to my fake cheer was the dial tone. Shit. Shit. Shit. We used to visit my mom every weekend, hoping she’d wake up. As the odds of that happening became less and less, so did our visits. And that made me feel like a terrible person. The guilt I felt now would soon be followed by anger. Anger at the mental disorder that had taken my mother from me. Anger at my mom because she hadn’t believed we were worth fighting for. And a new recently added layer of anger at Bane for tempting my dad to trade his life for hers.

After the anger subsided, the fear would set in. It was a fun cycle.

I’d spent a fair amount of time googling any and all information about bipolar disorders. The last I read there were no biological markers for it. Would I feel better if I knew that I was biologically screwed? Some days I thought it might be better to know…like I could prepare myself somehow.

I knew one thing: if I did develop it, I was going to take my medication. I would not do what my mother did. Maybe it was true that people who committed suicide felt they had no other option and supposedly their pain stopped, but the pain for the family members left behind never went away. For the first few weeks after my dad had found my mom unconscious in their bed, he kept talking to himself about how he should have seen what was happening and been able to stop it. I kind of think if someone decides it’s time to check out, there might not be much you can do to help them.

Marshmallow sensed my mood. She came over and went nose to nose with me. “Hey there, kitty.” I ran my hand over her soft fur.

The sound of the car pulling up the driveway had the cats running for the door. When my dad honked instead of coming in, both of the cats’ ears swiveled backward and flattened against their heads. A sure sign of cat irritation.

“We won’t be gone long.” I let myself out the door and headed for my dad’s black Honda Accord. It was the quintessential boring family sedan.

I climbed in the passenger seat and buckled my seat belt. “Hey, Dad.”

“Grab the cake.” He pointed at the white pastry box on the dashboard.

“Sure.” I put the box in my lap and peeked inside. The cake was shaped like a yellow smiley face, except the smile was gone. In its place was a straight line. What the heck? “Is this a passive-aggressive birthday cake?”

“I asked the girl at the bakery to change it. Taking a smiley cake to a vegetative woman seemed wrong. And there isn’t an I-love-you-but-I’m-mad-at-you-for-destroying-our-life cake.”

If there was any way to make this more uncomfortable I think we just found it. I decided to sidestep that emotionally charged statement and went with small talk instead. “What flavor is it?”

“The top layer is chocolate and the bottom one is vanilla.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Her favorite.”

“Why pick one flavor when there is room for two?” my dad repeated what my mom had always said about birthday cakes.

Tears filled my eyes, and I turned my head away so I was looking out the window. “Will this ever stop sucking?”

“No.”

We drove the rest of the way in silence. I watched families driving by. A lot of the drivers appeared annoyed. Sometimes I wanted to smack other people and say, “Stop bitching about what your husband or wife doesn’t do. Be happy that you still have them alive and breathing and functional.” Maybe one day I’d act on that instinct.

When we pulled up to the nursing home, my stomach dropped. I hated this place. Really, really hated it. Time to suck it up, buttercup. I took a deep breath and blew it out. On the bright side, there was cake. So…I could do this.

“Half an hour, and then we’ll leave,” my dad said.

I wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure me or himself. The more I thought about this mess, the more I realized how truly awful this was for my father. His wife had abandoned him, leaving him to deal with three traumatized daughters. She’d attempted to kill herself with a prescription he’d filled for her and that he’d insisted she take. Not for the first time, I wondered if we’d all be happier if she’d managed to finish the job and that made me feel like a spectacularly shitty human being.

Dad had put on a brave face for me in the past, so I could put on a brave face for him now. When we entered the nursing home the scent of urine and feces assaulted my nostrils. I know the staff did their best to keep the place clean, and everyone seemed well taken care of, but when dozens of patients wore adult diapers, there wasn’t much you could do to mask the stench.

The receptionist behind the desk nodded at us. “I thought I’d be seeing you two tonight.”

My dad nodded. “June tenth…Emma’s birthday.”

“Sign in, and I’ll get you some passes.” After my dad signed in, I set the cake on the counter and scrawled my own name on the visitor sheet. I accepted the lanyard that the receptionist gave me and slid it over my head before grabbing the cake.

On the walk to my mom’s room, I kept a fake smile on my face and said hello to anyone who made eye contact. I wanted to look at the floor, but some of these people lit up when you acknowledged them, so it felt like the right thing to do. When we made it to the doorway of my mother’s room, I tried to mentally prepare myself for what was coming but it never worked.

We stepped across the threshold and there she was…lying on the bed attached to monitors and tubes. The monitors were disturbing enough. The tubes I didn’t want to contemplate. It was weird how most of her brain had shut down, leaving just enough for her to remember to breathe. Her body kept chugging along, even though her mind was gone. Occasionally she opened her eyes and stared at nothing. When that first happened we thought she might be coming out of it but that wasn’t the case. The doctors claimed minor twitches like smiles and arm movements were random reflexes. I found them deeply disturbing and cruel.

“Happy Birthday, Emma,” my dad managed to say in an almost cheery tone.

“We brought your favorite kind of cake.” My voice broke at the end.

“We love you but this sucks,” my dad said.

My mouth fell open, and then I laughed.

“What? I didn’t think I had to pretend to be okay with this situation anymore.”

“No,” I said. “You don’t.”

“Thank you. When you get older you’ll realize grown-ups mostly pretend they know what’s going on and how to handle everything. It’s nice not to have to pretend around you anymore.”

We sat in the visitor’s chairs and pulled the tray table over. My dad opened the box and then frowned. “I didn’t remember to bring forks.”

“Irresponsible grown-up,” I teased. “I’ll go ask for something at the nurse’s station. Next year we should bring cupcakes.”

My dad nodded.

I headed back up to the front. I could have gone straight to the cafeteria, but I knew from experience that wasn’t a happy place. Maybe the nurse’s station would have what we needed. Before I made it to the desk, an orderly came down the hall toward me pushing a cart.

“Excuse me.” I stepped into his line of sight.

His eyes narrowed. “Get the hell away from me. I already paid this month.”

I froze as a wave or resentment rolled over me. The only thing that came out of my mouth was, “Forks?”

“What?” Now he looked confused.

“I’m here visiting my mom.” I pointed back toward her room.

“Oh.” He visibly relaxed, releasing the death grip he’d had on the cart. “I thought…I mean I heard about your new job.”

“Which I didn’t sign up for.” I wanted to make that perfectly clear. Maybe people would resent me less. “I signed on to clean Carol’s house for the summer. She lost to Bane and now he has my contract.”

“Better than the contract he has on me.” He attempted a laugh but it came out more like a wheeze. “What did you need for your mom?”

“Forks for her birthday cake? You can stop by for some cake if you want. It’s not like my mom will be eating any.” Ugh. Why did I say that?

“I’ve got sporks.” He reached into his cart and then held out two spoon/fork hybrids.

“Those will work.” I gave a tight smile. “Thank you.”

“Sorry I yelled.” He straightened up a container of straws. “I think that’s one of the side effects of selling off pieces of your soul. You get angry quicker.”

I nodded and headed back to my birthday party from hell. When I reached the doorway, my dad was holding my mom’s hand and talking to her in a voice too quiet for me to hear. I noticed the scar on my mom’s forearm. It was shaped like the bird on the locket Carol had given me. Strange coincidence, or did that mean something?

…

Jake

The movie I’d been pretending to watch with Aunt Zelda ended. Thank God. It had something to do with two women wanting to be queen and all the backstabbing that caused. I didn’t give a crap about royalty, but she liked it so I pretended to be interested.

“Jake, I’m going to sleep.”

“Good night.”

“Set the alarm before you go to bed, please.” She exited the television room and I flipped channels.

“Why didn’t the first queen just chop the other woman’s head off?” Vi asked from inside my head.

“Because then the movie would’ve been over in ten minutes,” I answered in a whisper. Technically I didn’t need to speak out loud to Vi, but I didn’t want to get into the habit of silently talking to my ghostly invader. I’d end up looking like one of those homeless guys who stared off into the distance rocking back and forth. Talking out loud to Vi made me more careful.

My stomach growled. Time to grab some food.

“We liked the pizza,” Vi announced.

“Me, too, but I’m not sure what Aunt Zelda has.”

“You have a body,” she said, “so you could leave and get whatever you want.”

“Food’s not free. You have to pay for it, and I’m not rich.”

“Can’t you get money?” Vi asked.

“No.” Sometimes it was like dealing with an alien who had no idea how the world worked. At least she’d stopped asking for blood.

When I made it downstairs, I found the freezer was full of ice cream and cookie dough. The refrigerator had lunch meat but not much else. Maybe there was something in the deep freeze on the screened-in back porch.

“We could go after the rats in the cellar,” Vi said.

“No rat snacks.” I unlocked the back door and stepped out onto the porch. Before heading for the deep freeze, I flipped on the porch light because dark in the city had nothing on dark at a farmhouse. Without the light you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. With the light, I could see the woman sitting on the porch swing. She was pretty in a pale, goth, dark-haired way. The black leather bustier she wore made her over the top hot. If only she wasn’t sucking on the body of a rat.

“What the hell are you doing?” I blurted out.

She tilted her head at me and removed the rodent from her mouth, licking the blood off her lips. “Sorry. Did you want some?” She held the dead furry creature out toward me.

Vi tried to push me forward. She urged me to reach for the dead rat that dripped blood on the floorboards.

“Knock it off, Vi,” I ground out between my teeth as I shoved my own body backward into the house. I glanced down at the salt line, not sure if it would keep rat eaters out.

The woman laughed. “I’m not here to hurt you, Jake.”

“Why are you here?” If she was a vampire, she couldn’t come into the house. Right?

“I want to make a deal.”

“Hell, no.” I’d seen the poor saps Meena dealt with.

“She’s not a demon,” Vi said.

Like I was going to take her word for it. “What are you?”

“Let me turn my glamour off.” The woman snapped her fingers and grinned. Her smile exposed white fangs.

“You’re a freaking vampire?”

“I am.” She gave a slow, disturbing smile, featuring her twin pointy teeth. “You could be, too.”

“Cougar,” Vi muttered in my head.

“Why would I want to be a vampire?”

“You’re what, seventeen? You could stay this age forever. Never grow old. Think about it.”

“If I’m going to immortalize myself I’d want to work on my abs for a few months first. So no thanks.”

She stood and tossed the rat toward me. “You don’t have to make a decision now. Consider it an open-ended offer.” She walked closer. As she moved the leather corset top she wore shifted back and forth, distracting me. Suddenly she was right in front of me, inhaling deeply. “You smell yummy. I’m Sybil.”

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, Sybil, but it’s not. Get off my aunt’s porch.”

“No need to be rude.” She backed up a step. “I’m calling dibs. We don’t get a lot of new recruits around here. The demons snatch up the most promising candidates.”

That was interesting. “So you can’t turn someone who’s made a deal with Bane?”

“Only a suicidal fool would touch Bane’s property.”

“In general, can someone who made a deal be turned?” I asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just want to keep my options open,” I said.

“Here’s a little free advice. Don’t mess with another supernatural’s property. We don’t share well.”

Speaking of sharing… “Vi, would you like to live with someone who has a taste for blood?”

“Who are you talking to?” Sybil asked.

My body convulsed. I stumbled forward as black smoke poured out of my mouth and headed for Sybil. I coughed and hacked, and my eyes watered as Sybil swiped at the smoke that surrounded her.

“What magic is this?”

“Dark fairy spirits,” I muttered.

The smoked funneled into Sybil’s mouth and nose. She didn’t cough, maybe because vampires didn’t breathe.

Laughter came out of Sybil’s mouth and then she went very still. Was Sybil talking to Vi?

“Everything okay in there?” I asked.

“We’re bargaining.” Sybil walked over and picked up the rat. “And we’re hungry. See if Zelda has any pizza in the freezer.”

Wait. “Since you two are together, why don’t you go do girl bonding things. Watch chick flicks. Get your nails done. You don’t need me anymore.”

Sybil moved across the room like lightning and stood toe to toe with me. “You’re ours, Jake. Don’t ever forget that.”

Some magical waves of power came off her, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. All I could do was stare. “We know you lust after this body.” She leaned in and pressed her chest against mine. “We could have so much fun together.”

I closed my eyes, ignoring the urge to crush my mouth against hers. She was a vampire. Probably had blood breath. That would be gross. And, as a guy, there were certain places you did not want fangs. My body did not care.

Sybil gave a low, sultry laugh. “You’re right, Vi. It would be better if he came to us of his own free will.”

There was a sudden rush of air. I opened my eyes and Sybil was back on the couch. “Feed us, Jake. Or we’re going after the rest of the rats and leaving their corpses in Meena’s mailbox.”

Okay. Instead of solving my problem I’d created a bigger one. Sure, I’d gotten Vi out of my head…that was the good part. The bad part was she was now in league with a vampire…a very hot vampire. What were the chances that this would end well? I needed to regain control of this situation. How in the hell was I supposed to do that?

My stomach growled. Food. I needed food first, and then a plan. If I fed Vi and her new fangy friend, maybe they’d leave me alone.

I walked over and opened the freezer. A stack of frozen pizzas filled half of the space. There was a post-it note on top. Jake, these are for you. There’s apple pies underneath the cheeseburger sliders and fries. Let me know when I need to restock.

Zelda was great. Funny how a freezer full of food and a note made you feel like someone gave a crap. Maybe pie and pizza would make Vi happy. I grabbed one of each and headed inside. I put the pizza in the oven and set the pie on the counter. I had food. Now I needed a freaking plan.

…

Meena

The next morning, I headed over to Carol’s, hoping I’d find something in one of her books that would help bring my mom out of her coma and help with her bipolar disorder. If Bane could do it with his magic, shouldn’t someone like Carol be able to help, too? Or maybe I should concentrate on helping Jake with Vi.

When I knocked on Carol’s door, she answered in her robe. Forehead crinkled, she said, “Meena? What are you doing here?”

Oh. This was awkward. “Sorry. I wanted to look through your books. Maybe try to figure out more about how this whole magic thing works.”

“Sure.” She stepped back. There were red marks on her neck from where the collar chafed her skin. How long would it take for Bane to get rid of that?

Goblin sat on the couch in human form, dressed in a pair of Scooby Doo pajamas. “Nice pj’s,” I said.

“Thank you. They’re very comfortable.”

Had I walked in on a couple having breakfast? My face heated. “I should have called first. I can go.” I stepped backward toward the door.

Carol’s eyebrows came together and then she laughed. “It’s not like that. We were having a late breakfast. Getting up early doesn’t seem like much of a priority anymore when I can’t leave the house.”

“You can’t leave the house?”

Carol touched the collar. “Technically I could but this might be hard to explain.”

This kept getting more uncomfortable. “Do you think Bane would take it off if you asked?”

“No. He’d probably add spikes.”

That was disturbing. “I’m sorry. I came over to learn more about magic, not pester you with depressing questions.”

“Come into the kitchen and I’ll set you up with some books. I tried a dissolving spell on this collar but it wouldn’t work. Maybe if I teach you some magic, eventually you could help.”

“I’d be happy to try.”

Ten minutes later I was seated at the kitchen table staring at jars of herbs, learning their names and what they were good for. “This isn’t nearly as fun as I thought it might be.”

“Sorry, kiddo. You have to learn the basics first.”

Goblin came in and handed me a mortar and pestle filled with various leaves. “She doesn’t have to know what the plants are to make the spell work.” He opened a blue leather book and pointed at what was written on the page. “With the mixing of these herbs and the pricking of my thumb let the metal heat like candle wax, turn to liquid, melt and run.” And then he handed me a very pointy silver dagger.

I held it at arm’s length. “Um…what’s this for?”

“Magic costs.” Carol plucked the knife from my hand. “That was going to be our next lesson. All magic must be paid for with a sacrifice…like blood.”

“My blood?” I wanted to be clear on this.

“The blood must come from the witch casting the spell and you won’t be trying anything like that for quite some time.”

“But she might be able to help,” Goblin said.

I pointed at myself. “Not a witch.” And I liked my blood right where it was.

Carol set the knife on the table. “Witch is just a term for someone who plays with natural elements, someone who seeks to bend the natural order of things. I like to think of it as Karmic Chemistry because you need some heartfelt intention behind the spell to make it work.”

Okay. So I wouldn’t have to bleed on anything for a while. Good to know. I pointed at the spell written in the book. “Wouldn’t metal heating up burn the crap out of your neck?”

“It should feel like hot candle wax which is better than hot metal. And a mild burn would be worth getting this damn thing off my neck.”

Not that I wanted to question her witchy knowledge, but there had to be a better way. “What if you made the collar free floating so it wouldn’t touch your skin? I know you want to get rid of it, but making it float would give your neck some relief until you could figure out a better solution.”

Carol stared at me for a moment and then she smiled. “Such a simple answer, and I was so caught up in wanting to be rid of this thing that I didn’t think of it.”

My cell rang. Jake’s name flashed across the screen. “I’m guessing you don’t need me for whatever you plan to do next, so I’m going back to the living room.” She didn’t argue that she needed my blood, so I answered the call and headed for the couch. “Hey, Jake. What’s up?”

“I have good news and bad news.”

“Okay.” I sat on the edge of the couch cushion. Was he about to tell me that his mom was back and he was bailing? “Give me the good news first.”

“Vi has found a new home.”

“That’s great.” One major item off my to-do list.

“The bad news is she’s teamed up with a vampire named Sybil.”

I clutched the phone tighter. “Excuse me?”

“Vi moved in with a vampire.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Nope,” Jake said. “And they both like tormenting me.”

Vi with a human body would’ve been trouble. Vi in a vampire body had all sorts of terrible implications. “How bad is it? I mean it’s not like she tried to turn you, right?”

“Sybil asked. I told her I wasn’t interested.”

Good lord. It’s like he was catnip for supernatural females. “At least she took no for an answer.”

“For now,” he said. “So what are you doing? I’d like to get out during the daytime because I’m going to be staying in vampire-free zones at night.”

“I’m at Carol’s going over some books. I could pick you up in a few hours for an early lunch.”

“Sounds good.” He spoke in a quieter voice. “While you’re there can you ask Carol about vampires? Like what works against them and what’s made up in the movies. I don’t want to worry Aunt Zelda.”

“You have to tell her,” I said.

“I know but I didn’t tell her about Vi so I’m not sure where to start. Can you get me some basic info so I know what I’m dealing with?”

“Sure.”

Well, this was a new complication. Was Jake afraid his aunt would send him packing if he told her? He seemed to like being in Crossroads. Then again, maybe that was wishful thinking on my part.

When I walked back into the kitchen, Carol was wiping her neck with a salve. The collar appeared to be floating an inch above her shoulders.

“It worked?”

“Yes,” Carol said. “Now tell me about Jake and this vampire.”

“How did—”

“Sorry,” Goblin said. “I have feline hearing and a bad habit of eavesdropping.”

“Okay.” I filled them in on what little I knew, including the existence of Vi.

“Why hasn’t he told Zelda?” Carol asked.

“You can’t repeat this, but I think he’s afraid she’ll kick him out. It sounds like his mom has dragged him all over the place, shacking up with different men. Living with Zelda is probably the best situation he’s had in a long time.”

“Zelda would never kick him out.” Carol wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “This situation is good for both of them.”

“Tell her,” Goblin said.

Carol shot him a look.

“You know I’m right.” Goblin grabbed a bag of salmon-flavored cat treats, opened it, and popped two in his mouth.

I waited.

“Fine. Zelda lost her husband and son in an accident a long time ago. I think she likes having someone else to share the house with again.”

Poor Zelda.

“Jake living here is good for you, too.” Goblin tossed another cat treat in his mouth and gave me a knowing look. “Isn’t it?”

“As long as Sybil doesn’t turn him. Now tell me about the vampires.”

When I pulled up to Zelda’s house, I had a surprise for Jake. I hoped he wouldn’t be opposed to wearing it. I wouldn’t mention that it had some of Carol’s blood in it.

The door to the shop was open, and Zelda stood behind the counter, going through a book of receipts. Why wasn’t everything computerized? She must like to do things the old-fashioned way.

“Hello, Meena.” She beamed at me. “Here to take Jake to lunch?”

“Yes.”

“He’s upstairs in the television room.”

I paused. Carol had given me a letter to pass along to Zelda. I hadn’t asked what was in it, but I was sure she shared about Vi and Sybil. “Can you wait to read this until Jake and I come back down?”

“I’m intrigued.” Zelda held the envelope up to the light like she was trying to see through it.

I headed through the shop area down the hall to the staircase. Jake was halfway down the steps. “Hey.” He smiled at me.

My heart tripped a beat. The T-shirt he wore stretched across his chest and shoulders, making him look distinctly male. “Hello.” I pulled the leather cording with an engraved silver charm out of my pocket and held it out to him. “I come bearing anti-vampire gifts.”

Jake met me at the bottom of the stairs and took the necklace from my hand. “What’s this?” He held it up to the light and checked out both sides.

“It’s infused with herbs that smell bad to vampires.”

He sniffed it. “I don’t smell anything.”

“That’s because you’re not a vampire.” I took it from his hand and put it over his head. “You can wear it under your shirt if jewelry isn’t your thing.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “And I guess it’s a good way to start a conversation with Aunt Zelda.”

I followed him back to where his aunt was holding the envelope. She took one look at his necklace and frowned. “How did you get mixed up with vampires?”

Jake told her the story of Vi and Sybil.

Wait a minute. “How could Sybil be on your porch?” I asked.

“It doesn’t have a door. So technically it’s still outside of the house.” Zelda tilted her head and studied Jake. “Why didn’t you tell me the minute this happened?”

She wasn’t admonishing him but she did sound disappointed.

Jake shrugged. “You had enough on your plate. I thought it would be better if I told you after I fixed it.”

Zelda came forward and placed her hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Despite my epic fail with Bane, I do know a thing or two about how this town works. I’m glad Carol made you the charm, but there are other things you need to know.”

“How to keep creatures out of the house?” Jake asked.

“To start with.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you.” Jake ducked his head.

“No harm done. Just make sure you keep me apprised of any and all otherworldly weirdness that you experience from now on.” She smiled. “I understand if you don’t want to stay in Crossroads for your senior year of high school, but I hope you’ll consider it.”

“Really?” Jake lit up, maybe because someone actually wanted him around.

She nodded. “It’s nice having company again. Now, why don’t you two run out to lunch while I take care of a few things. We’ll talk vampires when you come back.”

“Just a minute.” I pulled out my necklace. “Carol gave me this charm to try and help me fly under the radar. My mom has a scar on her arm in the same shape. Do you think that means anything?”

Zelda frowned. “I’m not sure. It wouldn’t be hard for a cut to look like that. It’s a simple line that dips in the middle. Do you remember her having the mark when you were younger?”

“It doesn’t stand out. I doubt I would have paid attention to it.”

“More than likely it’s a simple scar, but I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.”

“Thank you.”