Hobbes was gone when I woke up. My bedroom door was ajar and the smell of cooking batter wafted through the house. 

‘Mum…?’ I clapped a hand over my mouth. The word had slipped out before I could stop it. Stupid. Of course it wasn’t her. She was dead and buried. It obviously wasn’t Ryo, and Dad could barely figure out how to make toast in the morning, let alone work the stove. So, who was making pancakes?

My muscles ached as I rolled out of bed. My stomach hurt the most, bruised fibres of muscle sending ripples of agony throughout my nervous system whenever I moved. My face was next – the bruise on my jaw still swollen and tender. It was probably purple by now, but I didn’t bother to check a mirror as I headed for the stairs.

Hobbes had heard me stirring and waited for me at the bottom, tongue hanging out and tail wagging happily as I slowly made my way down to give him a scratch between the ears. ‘Who’s here, boy?’

He barked in response and bounded off. Curious, I followed him.

 For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. There was a woman in my kitchen. My mother’s old pink floral apron was wrapped around her, protecting her red turtleneck and worn grey jeans from being made into a mess, and her curly brown hair was knotted high into a bun. For the second time today, I almost said ‘Mum’ – but this time I caught myself.

Swallowing, I corrected my brain and got my mouth to say the right name. ‘Aunt Linda?’ I asked.

She raised her hand in greeting, attention focused on her frypan. ‘Plates,’ she said, sticking out a hand. 

‘Uh – ’

‘Morning, Evelyn,’ said someone else. Theodore Doukas, Aunt Linda’s twenty-year-old son, stuck his head out from behind the door of one of the island counter’s cupboards. He winced when he saw my face. ‘Ouch. Who’d you get in a fight with?’

‘Um… yeah.’ I suddenly wished I’d taken the time to get dressed. Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, ‘Hi?’

‘Plates,’ interrupted Aunt Linda, waving her hand. 

Theo sighed. ‘Yes, mum, I know. This isn’t our house though.’ He gave me a sheepish look. ‘Plates?’

‘Behind you, upper cupboard on your right.’

‘Ta.’

Moving back towards his mother, Theo extracted the plates and put them on the counter with a clatter that made me grimace. Brow furrowed in concentration, Aunt Linda unloaded the pan full of steaming hot pikelets onto the first two. Without a word, she doused them in fresh lemon juice and loaded each one with a small pile of sugar.

Finally, she looked at me. Her dark brown eyes locked onto my face, but unlike Theo’s, her expression refused to give away her thoughts. Frightening.

‘Here,’ she said, offering me the plate.

‘Thanks…’

I took it from her and frowned, unsure of her intent.

She raised her brow. ‘Are you going to eat it standing up? Sit. Eat.’ With that, she set about pouring the next round of batter.

Theo also raised a brow – at her, not at me, but didn’t say anything. He knew better than that. Picking up his own plate, he gestured for me to follow. Motioning for Hobbes to come along, I did. Leaving the open kitchen, Theo bypassed the dining table and rounded the corner to take a seat in Ryo’s usual spot on the sofa instead. Propping his feet up on the coffee table, he gestured for me to sit.

Hobbes let out a growl.

I agreed. What happened to ‘this isn’t our house though’?

As I opened my mouth to say something, Aunt Linda shouted from the other room, ‘Feet down, Theodore!’

He hastily obeyed. 

Psychic.

‘Is this how you normally eat breakfast?’ I asked, seating myself down onto the cushion at the other end. Hobbes hopped up onto the space between us and I patted his head.

‘Sometimes. It makes for a nice change of pace.’ Theo stared down at his plate, apparently realising that he’d forgotten to get cutlery. He picked up a pikelet, rolled it up, and shoved half of it into his mouth. ‘Dad hayffs it becawff it geffs into the carpwet.’

Watching sugar granules tumble from his hands and mouth and land on the upholstery, I could understand why. I’d have to vacuum the couch when we were done. Nevertheless, I didn’t have cutlery either and didn’t quite fancy going back to the kitchen and being alone with Aunt Linda. Rolling up my miniature pancakes, I followed suit. Hobbes was quick to clean up after me.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. We weren’t that close in age, so I didn’t know Theo all that well. Aunt Linda didn’t exactly live nearby either, so he’d gone to a different school. The only times I ever saw him were at events like Aunt Linda’s birthday and her annual Christmas party. On the plus side, the first time I’d met him was when I was too little to understand what my visions meant, so he didn’t know that I was a freak.

Aunt Linda entered the room, holding her own plate. She looked down at the crumbs on the couch and sighed. ‘His idea, right?’ she said.

‘Yeah. It’s okay, I don’t mind.’

She gave Theo a pointed look – to which he responded by staring directly back at her and cramming another pikelet into his mouth – and took a seat in one of the armchairs. Folding one of her own pikelets in half, she put it in her mouth and didn’t say anything else.

Weird.

I stared at her as she ate, waiting for the lecture that I knew would inevitably come.

She caught my eye. ‘What?’ she asked, after she’d swallowed.

‘You’re not going to say anything?’ I asked.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

She sighed. ‘Do I need to? You already know what I’m going to say.’

True.

Aunt Linda scratched her head. ‘You’ve been through enough.’ Her eyes wandered upwards as she added, ‘I’m just glad that you’re alright.’

My eyes instantly watered, and I saw hers moisten a little too.

Ah, shit. I hadn’t been expecting that.

Theo looked between us, slowly shoving another pancake into his mouth. ‘Did somefing haffen?’ he asked.

‘None of your business,’ said Aunt Linda with a sniff. Clearing her throat, she picked up another pikelet. ‘Turn on the TV, why don’t you?’

‘O-kay.’ Grabbing the remote from the coffee table, Theo did as asked.

‘ – in breaking news, the young man found comatose at Hughesvale Park late last night has been identified by police.’

Aunt Linda froze. Her eyes darted towards me. ‘Change the channel – ’

‘No, don’t.’ I cut her off. The camera had cut to the front of a house, and, different as it was in daylight, I recognised the scene.

Aunt Linda hesitated. ‘Evelyn – ’

‘Theo. Leave it on.’

‘Twenty-one-year-old Andrew was being pursued by police for the alleged murder of his father, Robert ‘Bobby’ Riker, as well as the stabbing of a young man, aged seventeen, and the alleged assault of two young women, also seventeen, who were witnesses to the shocking and disturbing crime.’

The shot changed to a feed of Greg Leganne from last night – presumably shortly before he’d interviewed me. He looked like he’d rather be doing anything other than giving a speech in front of a camera. 

‘“We don’t know why he did it, and as it is, we won’t be given the opportunity to ask him why. At the moment, Andrew Riker is in care and doctors are investigating his condition. All I can say, right now, is that there are no obvious signs of injury or trauma that may have caused his condition.”’

The reporter’s voice over returned. ‘Witnesses have stated that Riker was approached by a young man wearing a black hoodie in an encounter so disturbing, that this young man ran from the scene out of fear from his life.’ A young guy with a shaved head, wearing a red and yellow university letterman jacket took up the screen. ‘“It was crazy, man. He like, grabbed the guy by the face, then all of a sudden the dude in the jacket was screaming and flailing – then he dropped to the ground. He looked like he was dead, so I got the hell out of there – ”

‘But not before he was able to capture an image of the suspect,’ the reporter interrupted, as the interview was cut and replaced by the grainy photograph of the boy in the black hoodie that Edri had shown to me last night. ‘The suspect is presumed to be in his late teens or early twenties, with dark hair, blue eyes, and was last seen in Hughesvale Park wearing a black, unmarked hoodie, black jeans and a pair of white sneakers. He is currently being searched for by police.

‘Witnesses to the incident, or anyone with information, should call Crime Stoppers on – ’

The voice tuned out as I stared at the screen. The boy’s blue eyes stared back at me. The feeling of wrongness that I’d had last night still niggled at me. God, he looked so familiar, but something about his face just seemed off – 

‘And that’s enough of that.’ Taking matters into her own hands, Aunt Linda got up, walked in front of the and snatched the remote from her son. She turned the TV off, put her hands on her hips and turned towards me, ‘Once you’ve finished your pancakes, I want you back upstairs resting. Now, I’ve got an urgent issue to attend to at work today, but Theodore has the day off so he’s going to stay here.’

‘I am?’ asked Theo, the last of his pikelets in his mouth.

‘Yes,’ said Aunt Linda. ‘Why do you think I asked you to come?’

‘Uh, all you said this morning was that you were getting pancakes. I didn’t realise you meant at the White house.’

‘Whatever.’ Aunt Linda waved her hand in dismissal. ‘The details don’t matter. You’re still staying.’ She scooped our empty plates up with her own. ‘I’ll wash these and I want you’ – she pointed a finger at me – ‘in your bed by the time I’m gone.’

Leaving no room for argument, she headed for the kitchen.

Theo and I exchanged looks.

He scratched his chin. ‘So, uh, I have a lunch date scheduled and my girlfriend will kill me if I stand her up. You going to be okay if I leave you by yourself for a few hours?’

‘That depends, can you drop me off at school?’

‘You’re going to go to school with your face looking like that?’

‘I’ll be fine.’ 

I winced, my bruised abdomen protesting as I got to my feet. Theo’s face turned cynical.

‘Okay, I’ll be mostly fine. But if you take me to school, I won’t tell your mum that you ditched me for a date. What time does she finish work usually?’

‘Five, and if we’re not back here by then, she’ll kill us both. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with any parents.’

Yeah, I wasn’t going to comment on that. Instead, I held out a hand. ‘I’ll make sure that I’m back in time. Deal?’

‘Deal.’

Aunt Linda’s voice called out from the kitchen. ‘You two better not be conspiring over there!’

‘She really is psychic…’ I muttered.

Theo groaned and put his feet back up on the coffee table. ‘Tell me about it...’