Thanatos is still sopping wet with red fountain water, dressed in his sleepwear, and standing barefoot on the white tile of Mrs. Waurelt’s office. Likewise, Jonny stands next to him absolutely shivering from nerves, and Rebecca is still and staring off into the void. Mrs. Waurelt herself is now sitting at her desk, furiously tapping her pen, and she glares the three of them down.

“I thought I warned you, Mr. Briar,” she scolds in ice. Thanatos swallows his nerves down, but they don’t wish to stay there.

“You did, and I completely abide by our contract, but ma’am, I had no idea this would occur.” He steps forward with a squelch. She waves her hand, and the water dissipates. “I knew, with most certainty, that I still had time!”

Jonny puts a hand on his shoulder. “Contract? What contract?”

Thanatos tries to speak, but nothing comes out, so Mrs. Waurelt sighs and relents the answer herself. “Mr. Briar and I had a contract agreement regarding his work here.” She watches Thanatos’ hands shake. “During his investigation, no one outside of he, myself, and Ms. Hawthorne were supposed to know of and be involved in this.” Jonny bites his lip. “Your involvement is strike one, Mr. Greenwell.”

“Uh oh.”

“Strike two is this morning’s incident. No preventable deaths, no public knowledge, nothing of the sort.” At her words, Rebecca folds her arms tight, as if hugging herself. “God forbid the press get ahold of this mess; the school will be in ruins.”

“Mrs. Waurelt, I-” She interrupts Thanatos with a hand.

“Strike three is you’ve put both Mr. Greenwell and Ms. Hawthorne in excess danger. That could have easily been them in the fountain today.” The three youngsters remain dead quiet, and she sighs. “You must be so eager to reveal you’re a-”

It’s his turn to interrupt her with a loud, desperate cry, “No!” He slams his hands on her desk. “You may threaten me all you want, but you know what that will do to Sibylla even without your other conditions!” He slides forward the note he found in the bodies’ hands.

“What is this?” she asks. He nods at it until she takes it.

“According to this note, it was a double suicide.”

Rebecca clasps her hand over her mouth and turns away. Jonny is quick to, once more, hold and comfort her, and she lets herself despite her better judgement. He keeps her tight against him.

Thanatos continues, rushed, “No one knows about the other two, no one has to know about them until the time agreed, like we discussed!” His fists clench, knuckles turning white. “Use this note however you see fit, but I have not broken our contract. Charm and wit, discreetness, every tool I have has been used in this case thus far, and there was no sign of this happening to me at all, let alone as a result of my own actions!” He’s bullshitting. They all know he’s bullshitting, but Mrs. Waurelt looks him deep in his eyes and sees the dark circles, sees the wetness.

“Fine then.”

“What?”

“I said it’s fine, then. I have no reason to disbelieve you, so we’ll just use this as our out. You’re safe, and your sister is safe.” She tucks the note into her desk and pulls out several blank letterheads. “Do you. . .” She hesitates. “Do you believe this to be the truth?”

“Honestly?” he asks. She nods. “No, this. . . This doesn’t line up with anything else. I urge you to allow my continued presence.”

Mrs. Waurelt doesn’t look up at him as she writes. “Do you as you see fit. Dismissed.” She throws the door open with another wave, and the trio make no time rushing out.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Thanatos collapses to his knees, and Jonny and Rebecca barely manage to catch him. He’s wheezing, shallow and quick, and his limbs tremble furiously. His ears ring or buzz or both; it’s so hard for him to tell as his vision grows cloudy with tears.

“I- I don’t understand,” he mutters. “I don’t understand where I messed up? Did I mess up? I don’t-”

He continues like this, and no matter how hard they try, his friends can’t seem to lift him or get him to respond. Rebecca wipes furiously at her own tears and proceeds to lift him, with Jonny’s help, onto her back. Thanatos resists at first, but he soon after clings to her tightly.

“Where to?” Jonny asks, unsure.

“We should check on Sibylla,” Rebecca suggests, and Jonny agrees.

“By God, Ato, what happened?!” Sibylla says as she opens her door, and he finally lifts his head. She wheels out of the way and towards the sofa, and after they all shuffle in, Jonny is the one to close the door. Rebecca finally sets him down, and Thanatos wobbles.

He looks down at his sweet baby sister, and though he’d managed to hold his tears back, the last of his restraint vanishes. Thanatos lets them overflow, and biting his lip, he throws himself at Sibylla’s lap and chest. He holds onto her as if she is his life, and in all honesty, she might be. She runs her hands through his hair gently, even as he pulls back and forces himself to stop crying.

“Sib, please, tell me, are you hurt? Threatened?” He holds her face. “Yesterday sent me into a panic, and today worse so, so please.”

Sibylla smiles, warm, and she nods. “I’m okay. Nothing unusual, especially now that. . . Anyway, well, I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“I didn’t know you cried,” Rebecca jests, twirling her hair with her finger. “A genuine surprise.”

Thanatos rolls his eyes and stands. “I’m human. Humans cry.” He rubs his face.

“Is that what you are?”

Both Sibylla and Thanatos still entirely. Jonny scratches his neck. “I wanted to, uh, ask that too, I guess. About what Mrs. Waurelt meant earlier.”

“Not to mention what I saw you doing in the fountain with Mr. Thompson.”

Sibylla takes her brother’s hand and squeezes. They share a glance, and she nods. “At this point, it’s probably okay?” she says.

“No, it’s not,” he responds. “I can’t tell you.” He looks Rebecca and Jonny in the eyes. “Yet. Maybe when this is all over, but not now, but know it’s enough that my life aside, it’d destroy Sibylla’s future, and I can’t let that happen; I won’t let that happen.”

Jonny reaches out. “Toasty, you can trust us! Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“It’s not a matter of trust. Mrs. Waurelt is right; I’ve put you both in too much danger as it is.” Thanatos fidgets. “I should’ve been more adamant about working alone, then this wouldn’t even be an issue! My personal life would only make it worse for you both, so leave it be.”

Rebecca huffs. “You keep telling us to just leave things be and wait around and do nothing! You order us around and around to do whatever you want, so the least you owe us is some answers!”

“I don’t owe you anything after that apology yesterday.”

“You apologized?” Sibylla gasps, and when Thanatos slaps her wrist, she giggles. It pulls a smile from him.

“Nonetheless, Hawthorne, you’re not entitled to my life.” He points to himself. “You’re not entitled to anything but your trust fund. Patience is crucial, including with people, and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”

She wipes at her eyes again. “Big talk for Mister Anti-social.”

“I don’t have to be Jonny to understand human interaction.”

“Hey!”

“I don’t have to be good at it either to understand patience. Impatience gets people killed.” His eyes narrow. “Just like it did this morning.”

The room succumbs to a brief hush quickly broken by Jonny. “We could, um, look on the bright side, though?”

“That being?” Rebecca and Thanatos ask at the same time. They share a look and seem to ease up a little. Thanatos offers a small smile and waves in dismissal.

“You know the suicide thing is wrong, and since Mr. Thompson wasn’t involved in the murders besides, well, the scapegoat, it means we can narrow things down, doesn’t it?” He vaguely gestures with his hands. “Angie. . . Angie may be dead, but that means Estelle must have moved onto someone else, and we still have our list of people from earlier that we can just go through again! As long as we find her and our mystery boy, everything will be okay!”

Thanatos nods. “You’re right, there’s not many places she could go, and now that everyone is aware of something shady here, people are on guard.”

“Tracking a student must surely be easier than tracking a murder ghost,” Rebecca adds. “But how do we track down one of over 300 boys?”

“Could always call Jack to do his tech magic,” Sibylla offers, and Thanatos hums.

“I could, certainly.”

“Jack?” Jonny asks.

“A friend.”

“Sure he is, brother.”

Thanatos flushes and, once more, swats her wrist. “I’ll give him a call, but if not, I have some ideas of my own.”

Sibylla tucks some hair behind her ear. “Anything is better than nothing, brother.” She sniffles. “Anything to help keep Angie and the others at ease; they didn’t deserve this.”

Jonny pats her head. “Angie wasn’t always like this, right?” She shakes her head.

“When we first met, she was wonderful. I thought I’d finally made a true friend.” She pulls out her phone. “I can show you, if you want; I have so many videos and memories.”

Sibylla plays a few, but about halfway through the third one or so, Rebecca excuses herself politely. The grin on Angie’s freckled face, the happy bounce of her hair, the enthusiasm of her time with her friends. . . It’s too much for Rebecca to bear.

Rebecca is so grateful to live alone. She locks her door and breaks her usual routine by instead tossing all of her belongings aside carelessly and undressing as she approaches her full length mirror. She lets her skirt drop, picks at every button of her shirt until it joins the skirt below, discards all her jewelry to a nearby table.

“A shower sounds so nice,” she tells herself. “Much needed.” She reaches around to her back and feels for the bra hooks. They come undone easily. She closes her eyes in the sweet relief of freedom.

A breath ghosts against her ear, and she stills. Her eyes open and dart back to the mirror. She gasps soft, afraid.

“Hello, dear. After your threat, I thought I’d pay a little visit.”

In the mirror, a woman of Rebecca’s height, stands behind her, leaning in. She’s beautiful, freckled, blessed with long ginger hair, and for a moment, Rebecca almost cries out for Angelica, but this isn’t her. This isn’t that once spunky, very much so alive girl. This is one who keeps one eye hidden under long bangs and her body covered in a dress that must be from decades upon decades ago. This girl wraps her arms around Rebecca’s waist.

“You’re very pretty, you know. Pretty and smart. Not smart enough for justice, though,” the woman says, and Rebecca shudders.

“Smart enough to know who you are, Estelle.”

“Oh!” Estelle chuckles. “So that phone wasn’t destroyed after all. I had thought as much after last night, nearly gave us a fright! Thank you, by the way, for the heads up.

Rebecca whips around, but there is no one there. She’s yanked back by her hair towards the mirror, and she feels Estelle’s hands and breath again. Perhaps, rather, it’s more an imitation of breath, an old habit from living. Either way, Rebecca can’t move, and she instead feels her limbs move for her with Estelle’s unsettling gentle touch.

“Smooth skin, clean, a lovely dark shade.” Estelle raises one of Rebecca’s arms. “Quite strong, too!” She moves Rebecca’s hair again, feeling it in her fingers. “Red hair, well-maintained. You’re a very good candidate, and you get bonus points for your magic ability.”

“You- You plan to what, then? Do what you did to Angelica but to me?”

Estelle hums. “That was my initial idea. Hell, I might have even taken your body sooner, but I’ve avoided girls of other races. Doesn’t feel right, I suppose.”

“How moral of you,” Rebecca replies, venomous. Estelle laughs.

“Think what you wish, but you have no idea what I’ve done to be here, what I’ve been through.” Hands around Rebecca’s throat. “Nothing will make me give up, and if you’re my next, so be it. That is, unless. . .”

Rebecca frowns. “Unless?” Estelle grins wide and wicked, but it doesn’t reach her amber eyes.

“Unless you help me out, then I’d have no choice but to spare you!” She spins Rebecca back around to the mirror, and she sees Estell at her side. “You see, we souls can’t exist without a body for very long in the mortal world, especially ones like me who’ve been cursed.” Her smile drops. “If you keep your detective friend from finding me, I’ll spare you and find another body and, well, I might even decide to leave the school!”

“And- And if I don’t?”

Estelle traces up Rebecca’s spine with a slow finger. “Then your body is mine.”

Rebecca’s knees buckle, and she cries out as she tries to catch herself on her mirror, but it falls and shatters. She claws at her back with unrelenting nails and panic. It burns like thousands of small, sharp knives creeping their way upwards, and then it stops. She tries to catch her breath. Estelle’s voice is right by her ear once again.

“Either way, I’ve been attached to you now by my friend,” she says. “I’m just choosing to let you stay in control. For now.” Estelle traces the new dark, reddening branches on Rebecca’s skin. “So, do we have a deal?”

Rebecca sees herself crying in the broken mirror, and she nods and nods and nods. “Yes! Yes, we have a deal!”

“Good girl.”

When Rebecca blinks, Estelle cannot be seen in the mirror, but she knows she isn’t alone. Her presence is still there. She twists her body and feels her heart sink into her stomach at the tree sprouting from her skin.