The next afternoon, Mark took me dress and shoe shopping for the family dinner. It wasn’t like Leah didn’t have a nice dress and shoes, but he wanted to make sure I “made a nice impression.” From what I could tell, he wanted me to be as attractive to his parents as the trust fund girls they’d been setting him up with. 

It was a futile endeavor, as needing to conceal my true body meant I had to wear a high-necked dress with long sleeves--which weren’t exactly in style at the moment. The only one we could find on short notice that fit made me look like I was either a vampire or a funeral-goer. The black heels didn’t help. I got my makeup done in warm tones, which slightly lessened the vampire look. Getting my raven hair done up brought the vampire look right back. 

It was hard enough not to laugh at my own appearance, but seeing Mark in a suit and tie had me giggling the whole way to his mansion. I’d never seen him in anything more formal than jeans--apparently for good reason, as he kept fidgeting with his clothes. His feathery head crest went up and down every time he looked at me, a sure sign that he’d realized I was possibly the worst person he could’ve chosen to play his respectable girlfriend. 

As we parked, I squeezed his hand. “I promise I’ll do my best not to embarrass you.”

“Uh, th-thanks.” He cleared his throat. “I doubt that’ll be a problem.”

I appreciated the vote of confidence, but I definitely had some doubts. “So, should I get out myself or let you open the door? And what about when I go to sit down--are you supposed to pull out my chair, or can I do that?” I really should’ve asked these questions on the way up here, but it was so hard to focus on etiquette when he looked so uncomfortable. 

“You can open the door and pull out the chair--unless you want me to?”

I shook my head. “I just want to make sure I do everything right.”

“You don’t have to do anything special, just be yourself.” He paused with his hand on the door. “Actually, don’t do that. Sorry, your… eccentricities don’t bother me, but they would bother my parents. Try to channel Leah.”

“Okay.” I carefully got out of the car. Walking in heels was a skill, one I hadn’t quite mastered in one afternoon. It was hard to practice when practicing risked breaking the very expensive heels as well as my ankles. 

Mark moved around the car and helped me balance with a hand on my arm. We went to the front door, and he rang the doorbell.

A maid led us across the grand foyer and into a high-ceilinged dining room. Mr. Walker--a spitting image of Mark with larger antlers--sat at the head of the table, Mrs. Walker--an inhumanly beautiful woman with olive skin and black hair in a bun--sat on his right, and Ethan sat on her right. At the sight of us, Mark’s parents looked pleased, while Ethan did a double take. 

“Crap,” Mark muttered, “I forgot to tell Ethan.”

I fought not to laugh as I sat across from Ethan with Mark on my right. This was going to be an interesting dinner. 

Mrs. Walker stood to offer me a hand. “Welcome to our home, Leah. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

I shook her hand. “Welcome. I mean, well-met, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Why had Mark told her my name was Leah? It would just make things harder if I forgot to respond to the name. 

Mr. Walker offered me a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ve heard so much about you. Are you recovering well after the incident?”

I shook his hand while my mind raced. Mark couldn’t have told his parents that I was kidnapped from the Otherealm. Mr. Walker must’ve been talking about something else. What could he be talking about? Dr. Swanson trying to shoot me? Me sleeping for nineteen hours? No, I didn’t believe Mark would bring that stuff up with them. At least, I hoped he hadn’t. Wait, the car wreck--if his parents did the slightest bit of research on me, they would realize I was the girl in the car crash that Mark was involved in, so it would make sense if he’d told them Leah’s name and history before they could assume he was trying to keep things from them. 

“Yes, I’m recovering well.”

“Glad to hear it.” Mr. Walker extracted his hand from mine. 

We both sat down, but Ethan jumped up. 

“Don’t forget about the elephant in the room.” He thrust his hand out. “Leah, was it?”

“Yes.” I reluctantly stood and shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah, so you wouldn’t happen to have a younger sister named Elva, would you?”

I swallowed. If his parents had done research or planned to research me in the future, they would know Leah was an only child. “No, I don’t.” I tried to pull my hand back, but he held on. 

“Didn’t think so.” He let go. “So what’s your angle?”

I sat. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Mark shot him a pointed look that he blatantly ignored. 

Still standing, Ethan placed his hands flat on the table. “Just fess up, you two.”

I exchanged uneasy looks with Mark. 

Mark took a steadying breath. “A month ago, I hadn’t asked Elva--that’s her nickname--out yet. I didn’t want you swooping in on her, so I lied about her being a minor.” He smiled apologetically. “She’s eighteen and a half, and she prefers to go by ‘Elva.’” 

Ethan sat down hard and rolled his eyes. “You could’ve told me.”

“I forgot.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem entirely convinced. 

The maid who’d led us in brought out a serving bowl of soup and started ladling it into our individual bowls. A second maid filled our glasses with something that looked suspiciously like wine—an odd choice, given that Mark’s parents were the only ones here of drinking age. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Mrs. Walker asked. 

I looked to Mark for the answer. 

“I met her when I was helping her mom after the accident.”

Nodding, Mrs. Walker sipped from her glass. “Forgive me for asking, but I was under the impression that you’d passed?”

Passed what? I had to assume she’d meant ‘passed away,’ but obviously I hadn’t, unless she believed I was a reanimated corpse. She wasn’t supposed to be a mind reader, but maybe she’d put two and two together?

Mark spoke up. “Elva’s mom wasn’t sure whether she would pull through, so she kept things quiet about Elva’s recovery until a month ago. She didn’t tell me Elva was alive until she was up and walking around.”

“I see, and how did she recover so fully? As far as I was aware, the crash killed her instantly. It’s a miracle she can breathe without a ventilator, much less walk unassisted.”

He paused, his expression surprisingly blank, but his twitchy feathers gave away his nervousness. “Mom, I don’t know if now is a good time-”

“I’d like to know as well,” Mr. Walker cut in. “Such a miracle healing technique could do wonders for the guardians if it’s replicable.”

“It’s her oddity. She can regenerate.” Mark fiddled with his spook. “It took a long time before she could breathe and keep her heart beating wthout assistance. It was a hard time for her, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to talk about it.” There was a stern edge to his voice. 

“That’s a useful ability, especially for a guardian. What class are you in?”

Mrs. Walker touched her husband’s arm. “She’s not attending OOU, remember? She’s attending an esteemed online college.” Though her expression was pleasant, her tone wouldn’t have been out of place if she’d been calling a child’s artwork a “masterpiece.”

“It’s an accredited college,” Mark insisted. “She’s just taking online courses because she doesn’t want to move away from home so soon after nearly dying.”

“That makes perfect sense.”

“Elva is plenty smart enough to get into OOU.”

“I’m sure she is.”

Mark looked like he wanted to argue but stopped himself from speaking by sipping his drink. 

I sniffed my own drink. It smelled like normal grape juice. I tasted it. It was sparkling grape juice. Thank goodness—getting drunk would’ve made me act even more like a freak than I’d already managed to do.

“Elva’s beat Olivia at obstacles, rock wall, and combat, and she has a photographic memory.”

Though technically true, I’d only beat Olivia at obstacles and rock wall a couple of times in the last month--and just barely. Our only ‘combat’ encounter had been in the rock climbing room, and I’d only ‘won’ because she hadn’t tried to burn me with her light refraction abilities. As for my photographic memory, it wasn’t exactly impressive, given the fact that it took me several minutes to recall anything that wasn’t stored in short term memory. 

“Is that so?” Mrs. Walker smiled at me. “Close your eyes, dear.”

I closed my eyes. 

“It’s not a party trick.” Mark sounded nervous. “She has to prepare to-”

“How many beads are on the chandelier?” Mrs. Walker asked. 

There was one in this room and one in the foyer, and I’d spotted a small one over the upstairs landing. “Which one?”

“The one above us right now.”

I wanted to say that the one upstairs was also above us right now, but I chose to assume she was talking about the one above the dining table. It was two concentric circles of hanging strings of beads. A string on the outer circle had five beads, and a string on the inner circle had ten beads. I hadn’t gotten the best look at it from all angles, but I’d seen it well enough when we were walking in, so assuming all the strings on a circle had the same number of beads and the chandelier was symmetrical…

“Three hundred and twenty,” I counted after an age. 

The corner of Mrs. Walker’s lips twitched. “It’s three hundred and eighteen. Two of the beads are missing.”

I glanced up at the chandelier. Indeed, two of the beads on the outer ring were missing. They were on the side farthest from the door, which I hadn’t looked at until now. “I only glanced at the chandelier when I walked in. I couldn’t see the missing beads from that angle.”

“Impressive nonetheless. Do you remember only images or sounds as well?”

“I remember everything I’ve experienced.” At least, I did as long as my host body experienced it directly. 

“Why haven’t you considered attending OOU? You would undoubtedly pass the entrance exams with some preparation.”

“I’ve considered it.” And Celest had firmly vetoed the idea before I could mention it to Mark, which was probably why he was staring at me. 

She steepled her fingers on the table. “Is money the issue?”

“No.” Well, money might’ve been an issue if I’d gotten Celest to even consider the idea, but we hadn’t gotten that far. 

“Then what is?”

Mark cleared his throat. “She has personal reasons for not wanting to go.”

Technically true, but I wasn’t sure whether Celest had told him her reasons or if he was just trying to cover for me. 

“Forgive me for prying, but I just can’t fathom why an intelligent, athletic girl of means with an impressive oddity wouldn’t want to attend such a prestigious oddling university.”

I sighed. “I do want to attend it, but Celest is still dealing with nearly losing me. She’s in no state to live alone at the moment.”

“She isn’t married?” Disapproval fitted through her expression. 

“She is, but Dr. Swanson isn’t coping well with the aftermath of the accident either. He’s not the kind of support Celest needs right now.”

Mr. Walker exchanged curious looks with his wife. “You refer to your father by his title and your mother by her first name?”

“I do when speaking with people who might recognize them better by those names than by ‘mother’ or ‘father.’”

He nodded but frowned. 

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you live an hour from OOU?”

“Yes.”

“Do both of your parents work?”

“Yes.”

“Couldn’t you commute to classes and ‘support’ your parents in the evenings? ‘Snot like they’d miss you while they’re at work.”

Mark’s ears flicked back. “Ethan-“

“Hey, it’s just a question.”

It was a logical question, one that didn’t really have a logical answer unless I explained the truth--which I wasn’t supposed to do. What could I say? “I have a phobia of driving.”

“That sucks.” He sounded more suspicious than sympathetic. 

“Yeah.” I tasted my soup. It was potato soup with a nutty flavor. I’d had an early lunch, so I was starving. I wanted to scarf down the soup, but no one else was eating faster than a spoonful or two a minute. I forced myself to eat at a moderate pace to fit in.