Well, at least she’d have all three kids in her sight again, even if she was worried that  she’d be dragging Maddie into danger along with the rest of them. She texted the restaurant address and directions for getting there from the far station. She paused, then typed out one last note.

No reply, not that she expected one.

She sighed and slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“…Everything okay?” Zinn asked her.

“Yeah, it’s fine. My oldest daughter is going to meet us here.”

“Oh, you have another kid?” Zinn asked. “Was she on the train too?”

“No, she was at school. She stayed at a friend’s house last night, so she doesn’t know anything except that there was an accident.”

“Okay, but can we get back to what you were saying before?” Alvin asked. “You said somebody disappeared?”

“The fighter’s friend. I saw him get stabbed by that thing right in front of me. I tried to stop the bleeding, but…” She took a deep breath. “He was hurt really bad. There was this moment when he looked right at me, and I just thought, ‘he’s going to die.’ One second I was pushing hard on his chest, trying to put pressure on the wound…next second, he was gone.”

“Wait, really?” Zinn asked. “You didn’t mention that before.”

“I thought I wasn’t remembering right until everyone else had weird stories too.”

“Hm,” Dalisay said, thoughtful. “I don’t remember much of the accident, but you all keep talking about this large fighting man. What happened to him?”

“He was hurt pretty seriously during the fight—he got brought out on a stretcher, and I don’t think he was conscious for any of it. I assume they took him to the hospital,” Zinn replied. “Most likely Mount Sinai, since that’s where they brought the rest of us.”

“Well, it seems that he might have the answers,” Dalisay suggested.

“Yeah,” Alvin agreed. “He and his friend were talking like they’d fought that thing before—or monsters like it, at least.”

“Okay,” Zinn said, “I guess that’s our next move. We’ll need to track him down and find a way to see him. I just hope he’s regained consciousness.”

Everyone nodded their agreement as the server came over with a tray full of food. The conversation died down as they ate. Cherie picked at her salad in between giving bits of chicken nugget to Aiden—he was a messy, picky eater, and she was pretty sure most of it ended up on the floor.

“He’s a cute kid,” Alvin commented. “What’s his name?”

“Aiden,” Cherie replied. “And this is Liam,” she said with a gesture to her older son. Liam was fully engrossed in what he was doing, drawing what looked like misshapen lizards on the back of the menu with one hand and shoving fries into his mouth with the other. He didn’t notice Alvin’s attempt to wave at him. Cherie nudged him to get his attention, but Liam just glanced up for a moment, then went back to drawing and eating.

Cherie psyched herself up for another signed argument about manners that she really didn’t want to have right now.

“Ah, I see you have an artist in the family,” Dalisay said, short-circuiting the lecture. “Young Alvin was always drawing when he was little. He took after his mother that way; it was a new art project every day with her. I had to secretly throw some out every month or so or we’d run out of room. I suggested my Sofie do the same once we started to accumulate Young Alvin’s artwork, and Sofie was practically scandalized by the idea! She felt that every half-baked preschool project and lazy finger-painting should be framed and put on the wall! Although, to be honest, I think realizing that I’d thrown out so many of her creations hurt her feelings. She’s always had a sentimental streak…”

Dalisay trailed off and went silent for a long moment. Then she glanced back at Alvin. “Will she be here soon?”

The smile dropped off Alvin’s face.

“Lola… She died.”

“…Oh.” Her face scrunched up, warring grief and confusion playing out.

“Are you… Do you know who I am?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then who am I?” Alvin pushed, quiet but insistent. “Say my name.”

“You… You’re one of Sofie’s friends, aren’t you? I-I’m sorry, I can’t quite…”

Alvin covered his face with his hands.

“No, no no no no…”

Dalisay was frozen with one hand held out toward him, like she wanted to comfort him but wasn’t sure she should.

They stayed like that for a long moment, frozen. Cherie wondered if she should say something, but she had no idea what.

Zinn’s brow was knit with concern. She nudged Alvin with her arm, and he peeked at her through his hands.

“Hey, Alvin…when you first texted me, you said you “fixed her Alzheimer’s,” right?”

“I guess not!” he said, too loud and voice cracking.

“Do you think you can do it again?”

Silence. Dalisay slowly put her hand down.

“…I don’t know. I don’t know what I did.” Alvin’s voice was hesitant, but Cherie could hear a tiny thread of hope in it.

“Can you try?”

“Y-yeah…? Yeah. Not here, though. It was kinda…glowy. Wasn’t really subtle.”

“We’ll go out back. There’s an alley behind the restaurant—nothing there but a couple dumpsters.” Zinn glanced around the table. “To be honest, I wanted to test this anyway. Only way to figure it out, y’know?”

They made their awkward way out of the booth, Alvin guiding his grandma, Cherie handing off the baby bag to Liam. They left their half-eaten meals behind and made their shuffling way past the confused server. Zinn handed her a few crumpled bills and brought up the rear.

Dalisay seemed noticeably feebler than when she arrived. She held tight to Alvin’s arm with both hands and put one foot in front of the other gingerly, like she was afraid she’d fall.

Cherie hoisted Aiden higher up on her hip. He really hadn’t had enough time to run around these pasts few days—he squirmed in her arms, throwing his weight forward and making himself as hard to hold as possible. Without asking, Liam fished another Duplo truck out of the baby bag. Cherie passed it to Aiden who stuck it in his mouth and started gnawing on it, still unhappy but at least not trying to throw himself out of Cherie’s arms anymore.

By the time she and her boys made it into the alleyway, Alvin was standing still and silent with his eyes closed, holding Dalisay’s hand. Cherie stopped a little behind Zinn and watched silently, holding Aiden close. Liam wrinkled his nose at the smell of the dumpsters, but he didn’t comment.

Seconds passed, then minutes. Alvin started breathing slower, than faster, and his face scrunched up like he was concentrating. But nothing happened.

Aiden got bored of his truck and chucked it on the filthy ground, then started reaching for it and crying, upset that he didn’t have it anymore. Cherie struggled to hold onto him as he once again tried to fling himself forward and out of her arms.

Alvin opened his eyes at the sound. Dalisay tried to walk toward the baby, then looked back at her and Alvin’s clasped hands in confusion.

“It’s not working,” Alvin said with a scowl. He glanced up at Zinn. “But I didn’t make it up! And Lola’s still doing better than she was a couple days ago, even if she doesn’t…”

“I believe you,” Cherie said. The others all looked at her like they’d forgotten she was there. She hugged Aiden tighter and made herself continue. “I, um, don’t know you that well, but you don’t seem like somebody who’d make all this up.”

Zinn nodded in agreement, though Cherie didn’t think she looked sincere.

“Maybe close your eyes and try to put yourself in the same mindset you were in when you did it last time,” Zinn instructed. “Try to think back to the monster attack. Walk us through what happened.”

“Yeah…okay.” Alvin took a deep breath, closed his eyes again, and started talking. “It was late last night, and I’d already put Lola to bed. I heard a crash from her room, and I went to check on her, and…it was there. The monster. I, uh, tried to attack it with some random stuff, but nothing I did hurt it.” His voice was getting higher and tighter as he described the attack—he seemed pretty uncomfortable talking about it. “I went back to Lola and was gonna try to grab her and run. The monster had us cornered, and I thought it was going to finish us off…it got closer and closer—”

Another long pause.

Nothing happened.

“Arrrgh!” Alvin yelled in frustration. “I…I don’t know what I’m doing wrong! I can feel it—it’s like a loose tooth, or a bug bite you can’t itch! It’s there, I know it’s there, but I can’t reach it!”

“You can feel it?” Zinn asked, the incredulous look growing deeper.

“Maybe walking us through the attack is the wrong way to do this,” Cherie said. In her experience, dwelling on painful moments from the past rarely helped anything. “Maybe just…think about healing. Imagine what you want the power to do, picture it going through your hand and into your grandma’s…”

Alvin shut his eyes again and got very still. He started breathing slow and deep, the motion of his chest the only movement. Dalisay tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was rock solid—not tight enough to hurt, but immovable.

Almost a full ninety seconds passed like that. Cherie could tell that Zinn was about to interrupt, but then, something happened.

It didn’t look like much, really. A small, yellowish glow started shining through the gaps in their clasped hands. If they’d been holding a single bulb on a string of Christmas lights, the effect would’ve been similar.

The real change was in Dalisay. Her whole body seemed to shudder for a second or two, but at the end of the movement she was standing straighter and taller. She stopped tugging on her hand to free it, just looked down at the light leaking out of their handhold with awe on her face.

“Alvin?” she said softly. “Apo, you can stop now. It worked. I remember.”

“Okay. Yeah. Uh, glad you’re back, Lola. Do you feel all right?”

“Better than ever.” She gave Alvin’s hand a squeeze, then pulled her hand back. “There was a burst of memories, but not as intense as the first time. And my body feels…incredible. So much stronger, so little pain. Even…” She put a hand to one shoulder, poked and pressed down on it a few times, then unbuttoned her coat and handed it to Alvin.

With her coat off, Cherie could see a bulky, bloodstained bandage under the shoulder of her blouse. Dalisay unceremoniously ripped the bandage off, pulling it through the collar of her shirt.

She turned to Cherie and Zinn, pulling her collar aside to show them, well, nothing. There was no injury visible on her shoulder, just ordinary age-blemished skin.

“See?” Dalisay said. “The monster cut me here—it was stinging like mad all afternoon, and you can see where it bled through. But now…it’s gone.” She turned back to her grandson. “Apo, you healed this too.”

“Huh.” Alvin said simply. He was looking at his hand like he’d never seen it before.

“O-okay. So I guess this is really happening,” Zinn said, just a little bit of a shake creeping into her voice. She glanced at Cherie. “You saw the light too?”

Cherie nodded.

Zinn frowned, then ran her fingers through her close-cropped hair.

“Ugh, right. We need answers.” She looked at all of them in turn, expression determined. “Let’s go find the man from the subway.”