For the next few days, my life revolved around a few things: the news, school, and dreams. I steadfastly refused to go into the woods, even just as a shortcut to get the mail.

Police and search teams had been scouring the Potomah Regional Forest after they removed the body not yet positively identified, though locals assumed it was Lydia Silver, the girl who had gone missing a few weeks ago. Police were loath to claim it was she, however, because she was found at a distance from where she had last been seen, but which likely meant they should've found her when they first began searching—before she would have gone as far.

And strangely, I felt cheated in some way that the police had no obligation or intention of informing me of what they discovered. Since I had turned in the body, I felt like I had forged a connection with her last moments, even if I had just been imagining what it would have been like. Still, it was an intimacy I couldn't explain. To not be offered closure on the case made me feel odd. So I had to turn to the news for more information like everyone else.

On Monday morning, the paper finally officially named her.

----

Missing Cloquet Girl, Lydia Silver, Discovered in Potomah Regional Forest

Thirty-seven miles from where she was reported missing, the body of Lydia Silver was discovered by a Gendormi resident.

According to police, the cause of death is still unknown, though a wound was noted on her body. Authorities have not revealed whether the wound was natural or if foul play is suspected.

"We're not saying anything at this point," police chief Doug Hughes stated. "There's a lot of wild animals in the forest. The wound could have easily come after her death as been the cause of it."

Lydia Silver had gone hiking with a couple of friends on August 26. She apparently went missing in the night sometime. Her friends were unable to find her in the morning and could not say for certain when she wandered off. A large search had been conducted, but it had focused within a twenty-five mile radius.

Two weeks after Silver went missing, the search was called off. Nothing connected to her had been found.

The coroner's office will be performing an autopsy on the body.

-----

I wondered how many days it had been to Lydia Silver. Had she only been missing a week, even though a month's time had passed for the rest of us? I read and reread the article and browsed the internet news articles as if their words held the secret on how to turn back time.

However, I couldn't turn back time. And it was time for school—for a school that now knew about my expulsion from my last school. Would everyone now be saying nasty things to me the way Quentin had?

My parents offered to let me stay home from school another day, which was very tempting, but I had already missed so much schoolwork. And delaying my appearance could have the opposite effect, making it a bigger deal when I reappeared.

So I squared my back, bid my parents goodbye, and went to my carpool with the Janowicks like always.

Hannah had apparently been bursting with her unanswered questions, for she shot off three before I was buckled into my seat.

"Are you okay? Why are you limping? What was it like finding a corpse?"

As I did my best to satisfy her curiosity, reminding myself to keep my story consistent about hitting my head and losing track of the days, I wondered if my disappearance could actually be a blessing in disguise. Maybe everyone would be so focused on that, and Lydia Silver's discovery, that no one would remember my past.

After all, an entire weekend had past. Wasn't that, like, ancient history in the world of teenagers?

Even so, I had to see what Hannah and Rhia thought about it all. "So...I heard some news about me was going around school. You hear about that?" My heart was pounding so hard I could hardly keep my breathing even, and I hadn't even mentioned the incident directly yet.

Rhia shrugged. "If you're talking about the reason you had to transfer from your last school, that's nothing. We heard about it, but we couldn't believe you would ever seriously threaten any other kids like that."

Hannah nodded. "You're not like that, Faye."

Their immediate confidence in me made my eyes sting. But I swallowed and still wanted to make it all clear. And I found, after I told my story for the second time, the ache it caused inside dulled a bit more. Like the more I spoke it, the more the imprint of it faded from my soul.

The ride to school never took long, but it was still too short for everything we needed to discuss. We sat in the SUV for a few minutes after arriving to finish our conversation. When we finally climbed out, I found myself smiling for no real reason.

That is, until we reached the front doors.

My gut twisted the moment I saw Quentin waiting there, just like the previous Thursday. My stride automatically faltered, and I was delaying approaching in the hopes that he was just waiting for Rhia and the two of them would disappear through the doors before I reached them. But Rhia hooked her arm through my right and led me forward. Then Hannah did the same to my left.

"Um, what are you doing?" I tried to sound normal, but my heart was beginning to race. This was obviously planned.

"Quentin has something he wants to say to you," Rhia said, but she sounded like she was saying it more to Quentin than to me. We stopped before him. A couple of other students skirted our roadblock, and we were all silent.

I looked at Rhia, who was casting a most obvious raised-eyebrows look at Quentin, who was pointedly not looking anywhere in my direction, even though he kept opening and closing his mouth.

"Come on, Quent, we talked about this."

He drew in a breath, then released it. He turned to me and blurted, "There's something I need to tell you."

He opened his mouth to keep going, but Rhia elbowed him again. "Start with what we agreed on. You know."

He paused, not looking at me. Finally, Quentin glanced up at me and said, "Sorry. For being so mean to you before."

I stared at him, trying to ascertain if this was some ploy to get me on his side, and then he could stomp on me some more after I trusted him.

Rhiannon bent closer to me, arms crossed in the chill. Her brown eyes peered intently into my own. "He means it, Faye. But believe it or not, he had reason for being a rude jerk. I think we should get together as soon as possible to discuss something." She seemed entirely earnest as she met my eyes without a crack of a grin.

Quentin waved a hand at Rhia as if her words weren't good enough. I could imagine what kind of sordid tale he had already told her, warning her about me. At least I knew Rhia and Hannah supported me despite knowing my past. Clenching my hands into fists, I prepared to defend myself to everyone else in the school.

"I know you probably think I'm a danger to school because I might explode and go on a rampage at any minute, but I can assure you I don't have access to any guns or arrows or even any accuracy with them, so you can forget about the story you've heard about my last school."

Quentin shook his head as if my words were nothing more than droplets of water to shed. "Your transfer history wasn't what we were going to bring up. Faye, you're cursed."

"We think you're in danger," Rhia added.

At that moment, the bell rang, making us all jump.

Quentin and Rhia didn't move, waiting for my reply, which spoke to how serious they were being (when would Rhia ever be late to class?).

I stared at them. Then stared some more. Finally, I blinked and muttered, "Cursed." There was that word again. I couldn't escape it. But hearing it from these two was somehow worse than hearing it from Cale. It was one thing to hear that term in the midst of the In-between, and another to hear it come from the mouths of people who existed completely separate from that reality.

From beside me, Hannah laughed. "Cursed? Like, for real?" She rolled her eyes. "How is anyone supposed to respond to such an idea? 'Let's take care of that right after we destroy a couple of vampires that have been visiting in the night?'" She tugged on my arm. "Come on. An apology is enough. Let's go, Faye."

Quentin ignored her, just keeping his attention my direction. And I, I did the craziest thing of my life: I stood my ground against Hannah tugging me to the door to listen to what Quentin had to add.

"Rhia, Marietta...all of us think that the forest wants its child back. And, well, that child is you."

The words should have sounded bizarre and senseless. But his words immediately sent a shock of dread through me, as something within resonated with what he said. I didn't know what he meant exactly, and I was willing to bet Quentin didn't either, but he had stumbled onto a truth greater than he understood.

Hannah groaned, breaking the spell. "Don't you dare pull Faye into your circle of weirdness. We're content to be 100% normal. Right?" She looked at me with her highbrows raised.

I couldn't keep avoiding hard conversations simply because my mind was overwhelmed or I struggled to understand ideas beyond my initial comprehension. Otherwise, I'd never be prepared, like Cale had warned. I opened my mouth, but all I could get out was a weak, "Actually..."

Then the second bell rang and a teacher was shooing us into the school. As we weaved into the building, Hannah looked at me like I had fallen victim to some con, while Rhia touched my shoulder and smiled.

Before we went to our separate hallways, Quentin added, "We need to sit down and have a conversation, all of us."

Rhia agreed, but that was all we had time for. As I hurried to my homeroom, I found myself thinking that I wasn't sure which reality was stranger: a forest with In-between places, or calling a truce with the person who had been my enemy.

Still, for the rest of the week, we didn't get time to chat. I focused my energy purely on catching up in school. I avoided the forest, I tried not to think about Cale or Dorian Gray, and I forced myself to keep Ryland in my thoughts as a friend. With how busy life was, who had time to think about curses and sentient forests? I played the role of a perfect junior student, focused on preparing for college.

The nasty looks and muttered jokes other students felt the need to cast at me did hurt. But I kept reminding myself that Rhia, Hannah, Ryland, and yes, even Quentin all knew my past transgressions were just false accusations. I would never harm my fellow students or teachers.

In the evenings, my dreams began to feature Evie every night. I learned to expect her. The first few dreams were just glowing childhood memories and fun: swimming in a lake, running through the woods, playing hide-and-seek. Just regular moments from a childhood I couldn't recall but that looked nostalgic. By Wednesday evening, however, Evie addressed me directly again like that first night.

She drops to all fours and plays on her hands and knees. It seems odd to do that outdoors, but I join her in the game, surprised at how natural it feels.

"Do you miss it?"

I'm not sure what she means. Childhood? Playing with Evie? My memories of doing so? I blink, trying to figure out Evie's words, and wondering why her cryptic speech sounds familiar.

"Cale," I mutter to myself.

"My brother."

"What?"

"Cale is my brother." Evie shakes her head. "You really don't remember anything. I knew that was the intention, but I still hoped..." She shakes her head again. The adult words and sentences coming from a five-year-old's mouth is disconcerting, even though this is a dream.

She conjures up an image of Cale as a child. He must've been a couple years older than we were. He jumps out at us from behind a tree, making us shriek and run, and then he chases after us. He is a completely different person, nothing like how he acts now. And it is more than just because he's a child in this moment.

"He's gone feral," Evie says sadly, watching her brother splash through a stream. "I tried to visit his dreams to keep him from going feral, but it made him too sad, so I had to stop."

I look at her anew. "Wait, so this isn't really a dream dream? You're actually talking to me?"

"I can cross some borders, Faye. It's what we do. We are travelers of boundaries, of the in-between places. And it's our job to keep the walls up, and that's the struggle my brother has lately—someone keeps opening portals to the In-between, and he has to keep closing them."

If my conversation with Cale on Sunday blew my mind, it is nothing compared to Evie now.

"This is a dream and it's not. I'm afraid I usurped your dream from you. It's the only boundary I was able to master before I died."

I inhale sharply. Of course Evie is dead. Now her confusing words from my first dream make sense. And in some weird way, it makes more sense that a dead person would be able to enter her dreams. More so than a living person, anyway.

"Oh, we could do it while living too. Some of us, anyway."

I have a feeling Evie is reading my mind.

"Yes. I am. Sorry about that. I can't help it—I don't have great control yet. It's a boundary I keep slipping past when I enter someone's dream, but I don't mean to."

My thoughts are swirling out of control, and I have a giddy moment thinking that Evie is feeling as chaotic as I am if she's reading my mind, except I don't want her to read my mind, and the only way to keep someone from reading your mind is to think less and talk more.

"I don't understand. Any of it. Can you start at the beginning?"

"The beginning?" She blinks. "For you? All right, but you're not going to like it."

Her words echo her brothers' from before, and I really did not like what he had shown me, so I worry where this is going. Before I can mention it—or perhaps even before Evie can mind-read it, the dream changes.

The surroundings fade out, our laughter as children echoing away. When the scene resolves again, there is still a forest, but a different segment of it. It appears to be part of the National Forest area. There is a pull-off dirt parking lot for six cars, and a dirt road that winds before and after it. A beat-up pickup truck is parked in the area, taking up three of the parking spots. But it is winter, the road made of compacted snow mixed with mud. No one else is likely to be there.

The pull-out is next to some rapids—a place tourists will likely stop, so space was made to allow for photographs. The information board that explains how the rapids formed and where they led is covered in snow, and can't be read. In fact, I am sure this part of the forest is closed in winter. Whoever's truck this is hasn't come for a vacation—he has come to be alone.

A man stumbles from the truck and walks all the way down to the rapids, which haven't frozen. Rocks capped in snow sit amid the moving water, freezing and lovely. It is a beautiful sight, but the man can't really see anything with the tears coursing down his face.

"Why?!" he screams to the river, to the sky, to the barren trees without birds on them. "He's my son! How could you have allowed this to happen to him?" The man begins to sob again, sinking to his knees in front of the rapids and covering his eyes with a coat sleeve already wet.

He is probably asking fate, or more likely, God. But something Else answers.

"Why? Why not?"

The new speaker is there suddenly. He wears all black, his hair is black, his beard is black. And Faye shudders. This being's aura feels familiar—like the hungry eyes she had felt her first time in the forest. His aura is black.

The crying man stops sobbing immediately. He believed himself alone, and here a stranger is abruptly next to him. He wipes at his eyes and ducks his head. "None of your concern."

"Ah," the other entity says. "That's too bad. I was going to offer you a deal."

"A deal on what?" the first man scoffs. "Can it save my son's life or rid him of the dozen different complications they discovered just today?" He probably expects his retort to make the other being embarrassed, offer an apology, and leave him to his grief. But this new speaker has no such boundaries.

Or no such limitations.

"It depends on what you're willing to bargain." The black entity's eyes gleam, and his eyes are as black as the rest of him. "If you're after a life, I can grant you that. And a life you will need. Little Quent is slipping away even as we speak."

Quent. Quentin?

The man in black is still speaking, tossing pebbles into the rapids. "And why you would go and leave your wife to deal with that alone...and not be there to say goodbye to your son is beyond me. But hey, I don't judge. That's another guy's job." He nods toward the sky. "Good thing you did leave. Because you came to the only being who could possibly save your son's life."

He turns from where he is throwing stones and studies the new father before him. Quentin's dad is completely confused, trying to figure out if he should just leave—or if he has the courage to leave when there could be even a billionth of a chance that this entity can help save his son.

"You're wondering what the catch is, right? Everyone does. And it's true—I have my costs. A life is expensive. It demands another life in kind. Uh-uh," the being in black holds up a finger to cut off Quentin's dad. "I promise I won't be taking your life or your wife's life. What kind of help is that, to take a life of someone else in your delightful new family?

Quentin's dad sniffles softly, staring at the stranger. "I don't even know why I'm listening to you. There's no way you can save my son's life." He turns on his heel. "I need to get back to him."

"By the time you get back to the hospital, it will be too late. Your son will be dead when dusk is done, and my deal will be over. If you had wanted to helplessly watch your son die, you would've never left the hospital tonight." He extends a hand toward Quentin's dad. "Just shake my hand, seal the deal, and you'll be driving your son home in a couple of days. The life I'll take in exchange is no one you know. And what good is a life to me if it were to be snuffed out? No...I want a life that will live long. I'm not asking someone else to die for Quentin. I'm asking someone else to live for Quentin."

Quentin's dad stops before opening the door to his truck. Possibly the offer of salvation, however minuscule, seems too good to pass up. Snow begins to fall. The darkness grows a little thicker.

"You promise you're not going to kill someone?"

The being smiles, and his creepy smile causes his face to appear even more sinister than before he smiled. "I promise. I need a