Somehow, I must’ve managed to fall back to sleep because when I opened my eyes again, the sun was streaming in between my curtains, and the clock said it was 9:27. I was so alarmed that I’d missed something important, I leapt out of my bed and ran to the door, listening for more weird sounds. The house was eerily silent without Cadence next door. I was sure my parents were up, but they were likely in the kitchen preparing for Thanksgiving dinner, and I wouldn’t be able to hear them from here.
I went back and sat on the edge of my bed, trying to decide what to do. I could check all the usual social media sites to see if anyone knew how Drew was or what had happened, but I was a little hesitant to do that. What if someone knew my sister was involved? Did I really want to read that Cadence had killed someone on Facebook? I also considered calling my sister again but decided not to bother her. With a sigh, I grabbed some clean clothes and decided to head down the hallway to the bathroom to take a quick shower. My barricade was still in place, and I felt a little silly moving the chair out of the way so I could exit my room, but at least I knew no one had entered my bedroom in the middle of the night.
Unless, of course, they’d come in the window.
Chills ran down my spine as I thought over everything that had happened the night before. I turned the shower on and let it run for a minute while I took care of other things and brushed my teeth. Had there really been a strange man in my sister’s room? Did he really jump out the window and run away in a blur? What was up with the noise on the roof? And where in the world did Cadence meet someone who drove a car like that?
I got in and let the warm water wash over me, thankful that something normal still existed in my life. As I washed my hair, my thoughts slipped to poor Drew. I had no idea what had happened to her, but I had a burning in the pit of my stomach that told me everything was not okay. My parents were not exactly forthcoming with the information earlier that morning, so I hoped they’d be a little more inclined to share now that the sun was up. They might not be willing to tell me what had happened to the blonde cheerleader with the infectious smile, but I hoped they would at least tell me if she was going to be okay.
Turning the water off, I ran a towel over myself and did my best to get as much water out of my hair as I could. People have always said that Cadence and I have the same hair, but I don’t think that’s true. Hers is a lot thicker than mine, and it seems like she can just run a brush through it, and it’s perfect whereas I have to spend forty-five minutes drying, brushing, and styling mine. But not that day. I threw on my jeans and a sweatshirt and grabbed a ponytail holder. I wasn’t planning on leaving the house and couldn’t imagine anyone showing up on Thanksgiving morning. So… easy would win the day.
I was headed down the stairs, trying to keep my steps light in case I could catch my parents discussing something they wouldn’t otherwise share with me. Like I said, I don’t make a habit of listening in on other people’s conversations, but that might have been the only way I could figure out what was happening with Cadence. I also wondered if my sister would be back sometime that day. I couldn’t imagine her missing Thanksgiving dinner, but the parental units had made it seem like she would be gone for a few days.
Faint noises from the kitchen caught my attention, and I turned to head that direction when a knock at the door stopped me in my tracks. So much for no visitors today. I tentatively approached the entryway, hoping this wasn’t the police or the FBI showing up to arrest my sister for doing something devious to Drew.
Our front door has one of those little windows next to it where you can peer out before you unlock the door. Of course, there’s no way you can do that without the person seeing you, but I did it anyway. When you’re expecting to see someone who looks like a federal agent standing on your doorstep, and you look out the curtain to see someone who looks like a federal agent standing on your doorstep, it is a little alarming. I didn’t get much of a look at him before I flung the curtain back into place, but this was not a neighbor asking for a cup of sugar to finish a pie.
With a deep breath, I unlocked the door, wondering how fast my dad could run up here and save me if I screamed. But then, I’m fifteen years old; I should be able to answer the door without freaking out. Cautiously, I opened the door just wide enough to stick my head out. “Yes?” I asked, trying not to bite my bottom lip.
I could see him much better now than when I’d peeked out from behind the curtain. He was dressed mostly in black, except for the white shirt he had on under his black leather jacket, which is why I thought he looked like a cop. I wouldn’t call him tall, exactly, but he had several inches on me and looked like he could probably hold his own in a fist fight, though he definitely wasn’t a big guy. As he pulled his dark sunglasses off and made eye contact with me, my knees betrayed me, and for a second, I actually thought I might swoon like one of those ladies in an old-timey movie. This guy was hot—and not in the same way a high school boy who happens to have matured a little bit more than his peers is hot, either. Like, this guy could’ve been a movie star. His blue eyes were piercing, much brighter than any photo filter I’ve ever seen, and he had the kind of jawline that whispered he meant business, despite the easy smile he wore.
Nevertheless, I was not one for letting looks deceive me. I’d seen enough documentaries to know how people like Ted Bundy worked. I did not falter in my caution as I stood there, waiting for him to declare his intentions.
He must’ve been expecting my parents to open the door or something because it took him a minute to respond. “Hi,” he said, injecting a cheerfulness into his voice I was sure wouldn’t typically be there if it weren’t a teenage girl staring at him from the doorjamb. “Are your parents around?”
As soon as he finished the sentence, a bolt of recognition struck me surer than if Zeus had tossed down a shock from heaven. I knew that voice! This was the guy from my sister’s room the night before! My eyes widened, my mouth dropped open, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. If there were words formulating in my head, they were not connecting with my mouth.
“Cassidy?” he said quietly, “are you okay?”
“Huh?” The mention of my name jerked me back to reality, though I was now even more shocked. How in the world did he know who I was?
“I didn’t mean to… alarm you. My name is Aaron McReynolds, and I’m a friend of your parents’.”
He was still smiling at me, and I knew he was doing his best to try and set me at ease. My fingernails were beginning to etch half-moons in the wood of the door. How did he know my parents? I looked past him, curious as to whether or not that girl was here, too, or maybe the roof people. A very expensive looking motorcycle sat at the curb, but that was it. No other nefarious people seemed to linger in the shadows.
Returning my attention to the man in front of me, I suddenly found courage I hadn’t previously possessed. I cleared my throat loudly. “My parents are here. I can get them.”
“Great,” he said with a nod that showed relief—either that I would comply or that I hadn’t passed out right in front of him.
“One moment please.” He raised his eyebrows, and I thought I heard a chuckle as I closed the door in his face and locked it. He might be able to get through my sister’s window, but he wasn’t coming in here without my parents’ permission.
All thoughts of cautiously approaching my mom and dad had gone away the second I’d realized who was standing on my doorstep. I ran into the kitchen, practically screaming, hoping that Aaron McReynolds, if that was his real name, couldn’t hear the panic in my voice. “Mom! Dad! Some creepy dude’s at the door. He says he knows you!”
My dad was sitting at the table in the kitchen, reading the newspaper and sipping coffee, while my mom was at the stove, likely basting the turkey. When I came in, they both turned to look at me like they were sure I’d lost my mind.
“Calm down, Cassidy,” my mom said, a questioning lilt in her voice.
“Really, Cass, it’s too early in the morning to be so jumpy.” My dad took another drink before putting his coffee down and standing.
“Did he tell you his name?” My mom was following my father to the door now.
I backed up. “Yeah. Aaron.”
“Oh, of course,” my mom muttered, and then, even though I was walking backward and trying not to run into anything as we crossed through the dining room, I saw an exchange of glances that told me they really did know this guy.
“Well, Cassidy, you could’ve let him in,” my mom scolded once we’d reached the foyer and she realized he was still outside.
“You locked the door?” My father looked both embarrassed and confused.
“I… don’t know him.” I didn’t mention that I was afraid he was here to arrest Cadence at first, or that I knew he had been in her bedroom the night before, but as my mom opened the door revealing a patiently waiting, still mysterious, yet dreamy, stranger, I began to feel a little silly.
“Aaron! It’s so nice to see you!” my mother exclaimed, gesturing widely with her arm for him to come in. She hugged him, and he kissed her on the cheek before my father proclaimed a similar greeting and they did that half-hug, half-handshake thing guys do when they’re bros. I stood with my forehead crinkled, staring.
“I guess you’ve met Cassidy?” my mom asked.
“I have,” Aaron replied, smiling at me in a way that said my teenage antics amused him. I wasn’t sure what to make of him, so I said nothing, only narrowed my eyes slightly.
“Aaron used to work with your grandpar…grandma,” my dad said, catching himself and making a course correction. Was he going to say grandparents? As in both my grandma and grandpa? That was impossible.
My expression revealed my confusion. “I’m a little older than I look,” he said with a shrug, and both of my parents chuckled like they were in on a joke I wasn’t privy to. I nodded, but as far as I knew, my grandmother had been retired since before I was born and my grandfather had died years before that. Which means he either started working when he was, like, ten, or he was a lot, lot older than he looked.
“I’m sorry to come by and interrupt your holiday like this,” he said, mostly talking to my parents, though I got the impression he was apologizing to me, too.
“Oh, no. It’s not your fault.” My mother let out a sigh that told me all of the joy she’d conjured up to greet this person she allegedly knew through her mother-in-law had been swept away as they all remembered why he was here. Of course, I still didn’t know.
I opened my mouth, ready to ask where Cadence was, thinking he might know, but before I could get anything out, my dad said, “Cass, why don’t you head upstairs for a bit. We need to talk about a few things in private.”
Normally, I would have immediately complied. But everything was just so weird…. Instead, I said, “But Dad, you guys haven’t even told me how Drew is. And is Cadence okay?”
The color seemed to drain out of my mom’s face. She looked at my dad, and he seemed just as lost. My questions lingered in the air as I began to think of all of the horrible things that might’ve happened to my sister and her friend.
The only person who seemed to think I deserved answers wasn’t even related to me (as far as I knew. Things were getting so weird!). “Cassidy, your sister is fine. I just came to talk to your parents about that. She’s with your grandma.”
This raised a million other questions. Why didn’t Grandma Janette just call? Why would he need to be the one to tell them anything about their own kid? But I nodded. At least Cadence was okay, and someone was answering my questions.
“Honey,” my mom said, unfreezing and turning to face me, “Drew… passed away.”
Even though I’d been bracing for bad news about Drew all morning, hearing that information was still like a blow to the gut. I’d never known a real person who died before. I mean, my grandpa died before I was born, like I said, but I never knew him. I guess there were some older people in the neighborhood who had passed on, but this was totally different. Drew was only seventeen—only two years older than me. She was young, full of life. I felt tears stinging my eyes, but I didn’t have any words.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” My dad wrapped his arms around me. “I know she was on the cheerleading squad with you.”
It wasn’t the time to explain that wasn’t quite right, but I knew what my dad meant, and it was nice that my parents realized that losing one of Cadence’s friends was hard on me, too, even if we didn’t hang out together the way that Cadence and Drew did. I fought back my tears, though, not wanting to cry in front of this stranger.
My dad released me. “Thanks for letting me know,” I said.
“Why don’t you head upstairs, and we’ll be up to talk in a few minutes?” My mom’s suggestion was acceptable, now that I knew what was going on. I nodded and turned to go, but before I made it to the stairs, I couldn’t help but make eye contact again with the handsome, mysterious stranger. I didn’t know who or what he was, but I felt like my world had been turned upside down over the course of just a few hours, and he knew more than he was willing to say.
He looked at me for a second, a small smile forming, as if he wanted to assure me everything would be all right, but that’s just the sort of thing a girl thinks when she lets the hitchhiker into her car and winds up in a dumpster. No, I did not trust this Aaron McReynolds person, and I would do my best to find out why he was there and what he had to do with my sister.
I headed up the stairs, making as much noise as I could, lulling them into thinking I was long gone. I even went so far as to open and close my bedroom door before I slunk back over to the stairs and dropped down next to the railing. Luckily for me, they continued to stand in the entryway for a moment, rather than heading straight to the living room, which was further away. I was pretty sure if they moved locations, I wouldn’t be able to hear a word.
My father is a little hard of hearing, so my mom has learned to talk really loudly. Aaron’s voice wasn’t loud at all and had sort of a melody to it I couldn’t actually describe, though it was more intoxicating than I would care to admit. My dad’s bass boomed, and I could hear nearly every word he said.
“How is she?” my mom asked about the time I plastered my head to the floor so the noise could carry up through the stairwell to my head, or at least, that’s what I was hoping.
“She’s okay,” Aaron said. Then there was something else I couldn’t make out, followed by, “I’m going… talk to her. We need her to think this is her idea, even though it’s too late to go back now.”
My mom said, “Right. I thought as soon as I got her text this is what we were up against. So… there’s no avoiding the changes now?”
Aaron said something that sounded like, “I’m afraid not,” though I wasn’t sure. I had to assume they were talking about my sister. Something really had happened to her last night, and whatever it was she would never be the same.
“Let’s go sit down, and you can tell us about this new process Jamie has,” my father said.
I begged them silently to stay there a bit longer so I could hear what they were saying, but I heard footsteps leading away from the foyer. The last word I heard my mother say sent chills down my spine. I have no idea what the first part of the sentence was, but the last word sounded condemning. Transformation.