"You've been gone for so long, kid. What's happening? What's going on? I know you're responsible, and I trust you more than anyone on this earth, but I can't help but worry. Grandma and I—well we think you should come home for a bit. Stay the night. We can rent a movie or go out for dinner. You can grab some stuff from your room if you need it. Grandma cleaned your sheets for you. Just, we miss you. Let me know what you think, okay? Call me."

My phone remains pressed to my ear even though the voicemail has ended. I swallow and drop my hand. I stare down at the small screen as guilt rises up in me like floodwater filling a basement. Soon there will be no room left to breathe.

The bedroom is quiet. Adam is out of the house for what he promises will only be a little while. Tony and Yuke are here with me, not only to stop my father from appearing and bombarding me but to take care of the house as well. They are kind to me. Yuke offers me snacks every hour or so, and I can't help but take them. My appetite has risen from the dead, more alive than ever before. I sleep like I spend the entirety of my day running a never-ending marathon, and matched with the power my father returned to me, I feel beyond well.

I know the power he gives cannot be good. Out of fear of growing more poisonous plants or forbidden fruit trees, I have refrained from exploring. I'm scared that the more power I have, the more evil I am capable of. I would rather be oblivious to it.

The academy is on winter break. Vivianne comes by every now and then, and sometimes with Imogen, rarely with Elara, and never with Eli. Adam and I have mutually decided to keep me out of my father's reach, so I can no longer go on any outings to the diner or Barb's or anywhere. He doesn't believe that they will stay with me every minute. I can't risk my father coming to me. I need time, and I definitely don't want any more of his malevolence.

I toy with the idea of staying at Grandma's for the night. Surely I won't be alone, and even if he could come to me while I'm with others, it's not like he'll want to see my mother of all people. He would never risk that. There's too much she doesn't know—too much she can't.

I pack a bag. I throw in a few things like my toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and other toiletries that are no longer at grandma's for me. Over the past weeks, it's become apparent that I no longer rely on my mother and grandmother like I used to. It's all due to Adam. He's taken care of me. He provides food for my bottomless stomach, a roof over my head, and beyond the basic necessities of survival, he comforts me and protects me and loves me. Am I a freeloader of snacks and affection? What did I ever do to deserve such things? It isn't the same compared to my mother caring for me; it's different with him. I feel guilty.

Guilt surrounds me these days. But I'm going to make it better—I've dedicated myself.

"What's going on?"

Adam stands for a moment in the doorway of the bedroom before steadily stepping in with his eyes on my bag. "Anything happen? Any more rogues?" I ask, referencing the business that took him from me.

He ignores my questions.

"My mom left me a message," I start. "She misses me—her and my grandmother. I've been gone for so long. I can't remember the last time I stopped by, so I think I should go over for the night. It will make them feel better, you know?"

Adam stares down at the bag as if his mind has gone into overdrive considering every possible way I could end up hurt, or worse. We haven't been apart for a night in what feels like a lifetime, and I'm sure the thought of me being apart from him when the sun sets is unnerving. Although I am capable of protecting myself now—with my newfound power and all—he still treats me like the human we believed I was. It doesn't bother me. His protectiveness reassures me. I need him to protect those I love if I can't do it myself.

"You want to stay for the night?"

I nod. "My mom suggested it."

"Okay," he says, calm, "but your mother isn't aware of everything going on right now."

"I know, but I'm not worried about my father. I know he wouldn't come anywhere near my mom. There's nothing to worry about. I'll go over, prove that I'm still alive, then I'll be back here in the morning."

He doesn't seem convinced. Adam sits down on the edge of the bed, and my eyes follow him. His shoulders drop and once again he looks to my bag. I almost feel the need to show him what's inside so he's assured I'm packed for a sleepover and not a lifetime. "Nothing will happen," I say softly. "The change of scenery will be good for me. I can't stay cooped up in here forever anyway."

"I know," he sighs, finally looking at me instead. "I know you can't hide forever; I just wish there was something we could do besides playing defense. The only times we've made progress with your father is when you see him."

"I'm going to have to see him eventually. We both know that. He'll come one way or another."

Adam tenses at the idea.

"Next time I see him, I'll tell him I'm not ready for more power, and I'll try to learn more about him, okay? So when it does happen, at least I have a plan." I grab my bag and bring it over my shoulder while saying, "But right now, I need to see my family before they think something is wrong."

After sleeping with Adam night after night, sleeping alone sounds so very, well, lonely. My bedroom at grandma's reminds me of sleepless nights, an uneasy stomach, and the constant struggle of being unsure of our relationship. I will have to push those memories aside and focus on the big picture—spending time with my mom. I hope she doesn't ask about the things I've been up to because the two options I have to talk about—my god-like dad and my blossoming life with Adam—don't seem very mom-friendly.

During the drive there, I second guess the assumption I made about my father. If I keep avoiding him, I don't know how desperate he'll get. My eyes scan the trees lined against the road as if he may appear between the ancient trunks any second. I wonder what came first: all these trees or him. All of these mountains or him. All of this earth or him.

Adam notices my spacing and squeezes my hand that lays loosely in his grasp. "Yeah?" I breathe, turning to him with big eyes and parted lips that are nearly whispering my thoughts.

He glances back at the road then looks to me again. "What is it?" He asks.

"Nothing. Nothing—I'll just miss you."

"It's only one night," he tells me, but from the tone of his voice, it sounds like he's assuring himself of this. "I'll be back in the morning to get you."

"What will you do without me?"

His eyes aim ahead. "Worry about you. Just—be careful, alright?"

"I don't think I have the option to be reckless. It's my grandma's house; the most dangerous thing in there is a chef's knife." I guarantee, "I'll be safe inside the entire night. The only thing is, I doubt I'll get any sleep. I've gotten used to having you there beside me."

"You can sleep all you want when you get back home."

The corners of my lips twitch upward. Adam is right—his house has become my home.

He kisses me goodbye once we reach my grandmother's house. I feel his eyes on me as they follow me up the pathway and the porch steps. It only takes my grandma a few seconds to open the door after I knock, and my mind suddenly flashes to when my mother and I first arrived in Waindale. The stretched flowerbed, the lemon cookies, and my empty bedroom—all of it returns to me in a wave. The wet forest trail, the helpless rabbit, and the bear that sent me dashing through the trees like Little Red Riding Hood.

Her signature scent envelopes me as she excitedly welcomes me in. It's slightly floral but has a hint of something I can't describe as anything other than her. All too soon, the door is closing and Adam is on the other side, probably driving away. I should have taken one last glance.

"I'm sure you have so much to catch us up on," my Grandma says, leading me to the kitchen. My mother is there, sitting at the table.

"Hi," I say to her.

She gets up from her laptop and hugs me.

Grandma takes out the tin of thick, soft lemon cookies, opens the top and tilts it toward me. I take one and bite it and recall times when Adam didn't exist to me.

I talk about school during dinner, about Vivianne and Yuke and Tony. Grandma tells me about the raised garden bed she's planning to build in the backyard once spring comes, but my mom says little about what she's been up to. "How are things with Adam?" My mom asks as I've been expecting.

"They're fine. He's doing great," I say as if each word is tightening a notch on my imaginary corset.

We sit and talk at the table long after our plates have been cleared. The sky has fallen to complete darkness, and the kitchen is slightly tinted orange by the light above, like a candle flame.

"Well, I'm glad you're well," Grandma says. "You look healthy, happy, almost like you're glowing. Compared to before, I think staying with Adam was the right decision. Don't you think so?"

She turns to my mom. My mom simply nods.

Grandma turns in for the night, and my mother gets a phone call from a friend belonging to our past life, our life before pebbled beaches and snow-blanketed roofs. As she catches up, I take my things into my bedroom. It's the same as it was when I left. I feel as if I've been away at summer camp—my time apart from family, my time as an independent has changed me—yet I'm lacking a suntan and instead have a paleness that only winter up north can give.

I turn on my lamp and grab a pair of pajamas that I left behind in my dresser. The drawers are quite bare like this bedroom belongs to someone who has gone off to college. I change and think about how cold I would be in this t-shirt and shorts if only I was human. All my warm pajamas are at Adam's.

When I'm settled in bed, talking to Vivianne over text messages, updating her about my sleepover, a soft knock sounds on the door. I can see a figure through the slight crack. "Yeah?" I call, hushed.

My mother gently pushes the door open. "Hey," she nearly whispers, conscious of grandma who is likely asleep. "You got everything you need?"

I nod.

"Okay, well, it's nice having you home. I like knowing that my kid is still alive."

"I've been fine," I say.

"I know, I know. I'll worry no matter what, you know that. Maybe we can do this more often? I'd rather not go weeks without seeing you."

"Okay. No problem."

If I act like there really are no problems, then maybe she'll realize how perfectly fine I am.

She takes in a breath. "Okay. Good. I'll let you get some sleep then."

"Goodnight," I say just before she disappears into the shadowy hall.

"Night, kid."

She leaves and I prepare myself for a night of boredom. I'll roll around a bit, give up in a few hours, then play on my phone until morning. It will be a pain, but Adam will get me tomorrow and I can sleep when I get home.

I scoot down and shift around until I'm comfortable. I don't bother turning my lamp off, but I give sleep a go anyway. At least I can say I tried. My eyes close and my mind flows from thought to thought like the water of a slow, lazy river. It's Adam, then my Dad, then school, then Vivianne, then Eli's new mate. It's Imogen's diet, then my vanished sense of cold, then the many little bugs that sprung from the flesh of that bizarre fruit. It's the taste of Barb's hot chocolate. It's the smell of all the books in the library. It's the feeling of sunlight against my eyelids and all the veins that look like red string.

Then I dream for a while of things I can't quite remember. Time skips and jumps around like a child on a trampoline; sometimes it's long—and other times—quick. Images come to my mind of things I'm sure I've never seen before—even people, strangers.

An entire night passes and is pushed away by morning.

I wake in my bed and lay confused for a while. How could something so deep and lovely happen without Adam beside me?

My father's words from the beginning toy with me—words from when we were sat together in the diner, separated by a nearly retro table and two steaming mugs.

She mated you to one of her own because it gives her a sense of control over you. You're vulnerable, susceptible to her power when restrained from your highest potential.

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Oml, over a month later...
Taking a breather from this story helped me a lot, so I want to thank you guys for your patience.
I hope everyone is safe and in quarantine as the world is so hectic right now. Being in my house all day is hard, but I suppose I have a lot of time to write now. I have online schoolwork—upper-level English courses are kicking my ass—but other than that, all I have to do is continue living vicariously through my characters.

Stay safe and healthy!!!