“—some are old and some are new, some are sad and some are glad, and some are very, very bad.”

Anna’s voice spoke over the television, sitting in Mrs. Cole’s old rocking chair, a young, dark-complexioned boy sitting on her knee with big eyes in a big head, his hand slapping at the fish on the book’s page with a toddler’s eagerness for sensation and silliness.

“Why are they sad and glad and bad?” Anna glanced down at Theodore Cole, who looked back at her in that bug-eyed, awed way children did.

“Gladabad?” He babbled, and Anna shrugged.

“I do not know, go ask your dad!” She pointed at the man sitting on the couch, watching a football match with a glass of lemonade in one hand, his wife’s hip in the other as Zi watched Anna and Teddy with a big smile.

“Oh trust me, he’s asked me plenty today.” Randy glanced away from the game to grin, his hair fluffy, short, and black, with a thin mustache on his face. He definitely took more from his mother’s side, his Mexican heritage shining through, including with a healthy, middle-aged gut beneath his polo, and hanging over his slacks.

Anna rolled her eyes, giving Randy a quick smirk, then turned back to the book in her hands with Teddy slapping the pages once more. “Some are thin, and some are fat. The fat one has a yellow hat.”

“Annie?” Zi suddenly whispered, getting her attention. “Want me to go check on Taz?” She asked, glancing up at the ceiling in mild suspicion, but Anna shook her head.

“I only wanted to get home to cook dinner; the leftovers you’re giving us fixes that problem. Ahem: from there to here, from here to there—”

“I’ll check on ‘em.” Randy whispered as Anna continued to read to Teddy, and his lips pursed, his brow creasing, his eyes rolling up towards the ceiling, and after a few moments, he turned to Zi. “Dad just fell asleep, Taz is coming down.”

Sure enough, Teddy was staring with big eyes and an open mouth as footsteps made their way down the stairs, and Tasha walked a short way from the kitchen to the living room, smiling to herself as Melodica floated behind her.

“Tabba!” Teddy hiccuped, immediately holding his arms out.

“Teddy!” Tasha responded, her arms wide open as Melodica swam forward, giving the illusion that she was lifting Teddy up and bringing the cackling child into Tasha’s arms, who swung him about as he pounded on her shoulder. “Oh boy, you are getting heavier.”

Teddy answered with a string of nonsense, reaching up to grab her glasses, and when prevented, a handful of her hair, making Tasha wince and squeak until Anna bustled over, giggling, taking the boy out of Tasha’s arms and carefully easing his hands open to release her daughter from his uncompromising grip.

“Boy is he getting strong, too!” Melodica snickered as Tasha rubbed her scalp. Anna bounced Teddy above her head, making his arms flail out as he laughed and yelped and babbled happily.

“And he is just so happy to have his auntie and cousin over, isn’t he?” Zi cooed, coming over to take her son into a tight hug, though he immediately wanted back into Anna’s arms. “He’s just like Maddy when she was this age, can feel ‘em bein’ happy, about to cry, or about to tantrum from a block away.”

“I’m not looking forward to when he figures out telekinesis, though; it’ll be impossible to keep his room clean.” Randy said, standing up off the couch to approach the group, immediately taking Tasha into a quick hug, his mind tapping on hers, hers responding in kind, the two sharing a quick, private conversation about how Mr. Cole was doing, finishing it off with a nod. “Thanks for visiting dad, Taz, it means the world to him.”

“I like seeing him too, so I'm happy to do it.” She smiled up at her honorary uncle, who pat her shoulder and moved to help get Teddy’s hands out of Anna’s shirt. “Sorry for making us late, mom…”

“Don’t worry, hon.” Anna grunted and pat down her shirt once Teddy was occupied playing with his dad’s lip. “Aunt Zi’s sending us home with jerked chicken, so we’ll have meatloaf tomorrow.”

Anna almost felt jealous when Tasha gasped in delight and hugged Zi.

“I ain’t sending my girls home without somethin’ to munch on. Besides, consider it some payment for making Mr. Cole’s day, and gettin’ that water pump outta my garage.” Zi rubbed Tasha’s back, and Tasha glanced at her mother with a confused look.

“What are we gunna use a water pump for?”

“I’m not sure just yet, but we have the space to keep it.” Anna responded with a shrug. “Anyways, I don’t mean to rush us out, Taz, but I am getting hungry.”

And the clock was approaching seven. It wouldn’t take ten minutes to get home, but… she felt an unease that she needed to prepare herself for.

“Oh, yeah yeah, okay.” Tasha ran over to hug Randy and Teddy one last time as Zi and Anna traded kisses on the cheek.

“We’re still on for the church potluck on Sunday, right?” Zi asked while Melodica summoned bubbles to make Teddy laugh and swat at them.

“Of course; three-bean salad and baked ham.” Anna said, more to remind herself than Zi, but she got a nod all-the-same.

“Then we’ll see each other Sunday at the latest!” Zi smiled as they all headed towards the door, waving to the Cooper girls as they descended the steps. “Oh wait! Taz, are you free Friday?!”

“Yeah?!”

“Can ya babysit?!”

“Yeah!”

“Thank ya, girl! Drive safe!”

Kisses were blown, and the two blondes headed on home.

Aunt Zi’s jerked chicken was, of course, incredible, even reheated. Anna was still licking her lips as she sat on the couch with a book and a glass of wine, listening to her daughter playing guitar from the den.

Tasha’s guitar reminded Anna of Robbie again, but she shook the memory out of her head and just tried to enjoy the simple ballad as she sipped her alcohol and read the next passage of the murder mystery she was saving.

Less than an hour later, Tasha was leaning over the couch, asking: “Mom, can I borrow the computer for homework?”

“Of course, hon.” Anna responded, and Tasha skipped upstairs, Melodica following her with a swirl.

Anna glanced back down at her novel, progress made through its pages, more information and more questions in her head from what she’d absorbed, but she bookmarked it and clapped it shut. She set it down next to her empty wine glass, and took a deep breath before turning on the television, switching to the evening news as she kept glancing at the clock.

The story of a local botanist’s efforts to open a community garden for Petersburg came to a close as eight o’ clock came around, and on screen, Cassandra Danvers stared into the camera with a traditional newscaster’s force and detachment.

“Good evening, Arizona. Arnold Brown, chief of the Phoenix Police Department, is holding an emergency news conference. We’re going live now to get the story.”

The screen changed to show a stage, behind which was a blue wall depicting the PPD logo, the flag of the United States, and the Arizona state flag. Set up on stage was a podium, around which stood a number of figures: senior police officers, media coordinators, various Phoenix political officials, Dean Nathaniel Davis to the mayor’s left, and Anna could only stare at the older white gentleman in big, square glasses, completely bald in face and scalp; Riley Harris, information coordinator and media spokesperson for the Arizona branch of the FBI’s psionic investigation department.

Climbing the stairs, a weighty man with a purposeful look and a shaved face took center stage, standing behind the podium and leaning in towards the number of microphones set up on it.

“Ahem.” Chief Arnold Brown cleared his throat, a bit of feedback causing a distant whine in the audio equipment. “On behalf of the Phoenix Police Department, I’ve called for this news conference to inform the citizens of Arizona of an unprecedented attack on our people.” He spoke in a calm, clear manner, not interrupted by the crowd of reporters sitting behind the camera, nor the small gathering behind him.

He went on. “I ask for everyone’s cooperation and to keep rational during these disturbing times. A terrorist organization has rooted itself in our great state. We do not know their goals, but we do know that they most likely use psychic powers in their operation, we know who their targets are, and we know their name. Based on information we have acquired in our joint-investigation on the matter, these terrorists call themselves: Brain Scythe.”

The silence that followed the statement was palpable, followed by a low murmur, some of it confused, some disbelieving, with one barely audible ‘what?’ heard as Chief Brown shuffled his papers for a moment.

Anna suddenly found herself rooted to the couch, her eyes widening to take in everything the man did.

“I will be taking questions when I finish my report.” He told somebody in the audience, and took a deep breath. “Brain Scythe is believed to be behind a number of kidnapping cases across the state; all of their targets have been psychics.”

Anna quickly glanced upstairs in alarm, then back towards the television.

“Other than psychics, they have no other pattern; they target both the young and the old, as far as we can tell. Their exact methods are unknown beyond probable use of psychic powers, but we believe they operate with less than two-hundred individuals. They operate strictly within the state, as we have heard no similar incidents happening beyond state boundaries.

“This is obviously a matter of great importance to us; it is our duty as officers and authorities of the law to ensure the safety of all of our citizens, including psychics. We are cooperating with the FBI to find Brain Scythe and bring them to justice, and return their hostages to safety and to their families.”

“We ask that, should you come across any information regarding Brain Scythe or one of the missing persons listed in the PPD’s database, please contact us. If you are a psychic or know a psychic, please do everything in your power to remain safe. Do not go out late at night, do not go anywhere alone, do not meet with anybody you do not know, and do not share information about yours or others’ locations with untrusted sources. If you feel endangered, contact your local police department immediately.”

Anna shot off the couch and up the stairs immediately, staring intently into the small office space just across from her bedroom. Sitting at the desk, Tasha was typing away at the computer, talking with Melodica.

Safe, happy, unaware. Anna glanced over at the window to the room, locked behind a close curtain, and hesitantly, she left, heading downstairs and staring at the television as she did.

“—will be taking questions at this time.” The chief stated.

“Chief Brown,” a woman’s voice drew their attention to the left, “what of Phoenix Academy? Have any students or faculty gone missing?”

The chief glanced over to Dean Davis, who strode forward at the man’s beckoning. Davis looked over at the reporter and spoke with a forced sense of ease. “All our students and faculty are accounted for and safe on campus grounds. We’ve been in close contact with Arizonan authorities since these reports first came out and have increased security as a result; we’ve taken no short measures in keeping Phoenix Academy safe.”

Chief Brown leaned in to add: “Brain Scythe seems to mainly target loose psychics. There have been missing psychics reported all across Arizona from every corner, but we’ve had no such reports from Phoenix Academy or PJ.”

Riley Harris stepped forward at that moment to additionally add: “Multiple departments both international and domestic have audited the attendance records to ensure this fact; Phoenix Academy is safe from Brain Scythe.”

On the couch, Anna’s hands shook. They shook and they clenched and they threatened to tear her dress off her legs as she stared at the television and processed their words. She couldn’t see the look on her own face, but she could feel her own rising heartbeat and the panic it was pumping into her body.

Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and her mind was in two places; she wanted to hunt these people down, she wanted to grab her daughter and hold her tight; she wanted to go full vigilante and draw as much blood as she could, she wanted to tell Tasha that nobody in the world would hurt her…

She scampered over to the front door in a panic, ensuring both it and the back doors were locked and the alarm was on before standing behind the couch to watch with a simmering glower.

“Does this organization have any relation to the psionic assassin of the same name?” A male reporter asked this time.

Harris took this question. “The organization in question appears to have no relation to the Brain Scythe. We believe they’re using the name for intimidation, to cause terror; we of course, aren’t having any of it.”

“How can you be sure?” The same voice asked.

“The Brain Scythe has been inactive for an extended period of time, it is unlikely they would reemerge within a group of the same name using completely different tactics. The Brain Scythe of the 90’s was an assassin, not a kidnapper, and mainly targeted important individuals within politics and psionic communities; public officials and celebrities, not private citizens.”

“Of course,” Chief Brown added, “anybody with information regarding either of the Brain Scythes should bring it to the authorities immediately.”

“Of course.” Harris confirmed.

The conference went on for just over an hour, with a number of individuals stepping forward to provide information both broad and technical, none of it too revealing of how the authorities were going to handle the case.

Anna sat in an enraged stupor for the most of it, having refilled her wine glass somewhere past the half hour, and nursing a growing tension headache that the alcohol most certainly didn’t help.

Quietly, she stared down at her lap, trying to process everything that was happening, and failing.

She was failing.

She couldn’t protect her daughter.

Not alone.

Silently, she grabbed her phone and stared at the text screen, wishing to burn a hole through it as she shakily typed a message to Zi.