"They stay," Agent Williams says sternly. "They're not only witnesses but victims, and they are under my protection." The agent nods and steps back. Obviously wary of sparking his anger any further.
Outside, Dunhill is loaded into a vehicle. We hear the doors slam and the engines start, then the sirens fade as he's taken away. For the first time all night, the house goes still. The silence should feel comforting, but after everything that just happened, it feels almost sacred.
Zeke turns to me, his hand cupping my face. "Are you really okay?"
I nod. "I think so." But in my mind I keep thinking 'I hope so' because I wasn't really sure yet. My brain had not had time to process the events of the night.
Andy studies my eyes. "They're fading," He Says. I blink. The purple glow softens, dimming into a faint shimmer.
I breathe out slowly. "I'm still me," I say. "Just with a little more added."
"Good, because I need you. No, we need you," Zeke tells me, smiling softly.
"Your eyes are still cool, though," Uncle Donovan says, grinning. He's right; it is pretty cool. If you had told me buying this house would lead me here—to danger, family, secrets, and a power I still don't fully understand—I would never have believed any of it was possible. In some ways, the house is a blessing and a curse.
The house goes quiet as the backup agents sweep through the rooms, checking corners, photographing damage, whispering into radios. Every footstep echoes, and every breath feels loud.
We sit on the couch in the living room: me, Andy, and Zeke. Uncle Donovan perches on the armrest beside Andy, while Agent Garcia and Julia sit stiffly on the love seat against the far wall. The FBI agent in charge wants us confined to one room with minimal damage while they conduct their investigation. As we wait, I can still feel the veil pulsing inside me. It's strange, but not uncomfortable. It rests beneath my skin, quiet and ready, in case I need to call it forward again. I wonder if it will ever fade into the background, or if it will always remain there, a reminder sitting on my chest.
Agent Williams stands in front of us, jaw tight and arms crossed, already building the lie he'll have to sell to his own people. I worry no one will believe it. They are trained, like him, to detect lies and notice when things don't add up. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. Agent Garcia and his wife, Julia, are still visibly shaken. He's trained to stay cool under pressure, and so is she, to a point. She's an ER nurse who is used to chaos, but this is something completely different.
Two new agents enter, one carrying a tablet and the other a recorder. They glance at our group, then at Agent Williams, and make their way toward us. The closer they get, the more uncertain they look, as if they can feel the room still humming with something they cannot explain. After a few seconds, the one with the tablet clears her throat.
"Agent Williams, sir…" She hesitates, then clears her throat again. "Um, we need to get a preliminary explanation for what happened here today," she states nervously.
Agent Williams nods at her but doesn't miss a beat in his explanation. "Dunhill snapped," he says. "He used chemical agents to create the fog. He was trying to incapacitate everyone inside this house, but thankfully it didn't work."
The agent frowns, looking confused. "Chemical fog? Are you sure, sir? We didn't detect any—"
"You will," Agent Williams says sharply. "It dissipated fast, but the residue will show up in your tests."
The agent hesitates for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. She can tell he is already on edge. "Right, and the cold? The frost? How did those happen?" she asks cautiously.
"He shattered the glass," Agent Williams explains, gesturing toward the window. "The temperature dropped as a result. The fog plus broken windows equals a cold pocket. Simple science."
The agent nods slowly, accepting his explanation. Then her eyes land on me and widen in shock. "Her eyes?" she asks. "Are they purple?"
"Contacts," Zeke answers before she finishes.
Andy nods, "She wears them for shock value."
"Yeah, she's our little nerd," Uncle Donovan adds.
I blink, letting the faint purple shimmer fade completely as the agent writes down our replies.
"We have reports of supernatural activity. Is that true?" she asks. The question hangs in the room longer than it should. The expression on her face gives away her thought; she wants to laugh, but she is also waiting for someone to deny it. Agent Williams reacts immediately.
"Listen up. I am the lead on this case. No one here is to be questioned about anything supernatural. There was no supernatural event," he tells them.
The agent with the recorder clears his throat. "But sir, the damage—" He starts to say more, but Agent Williams cuts him off.
"Matches a violent struggle," Agent Williams says. "Which is exactly what happened." The agent nods, though his eyes flicker around the room like he knows something is off but can't prove it. He looks like he's about to ask another question but thinks better of it and motions for the other agent to walk away with him.
Agent Williams turns to us. "You all stick to the same story," he says quietly. "Dunhill attacked. He used fog, he broke windows, and he fought you. That's it."
"Got it," Zeke says, nodding.
Andy's jaw tightens. "Understood."
Agent Garcia wraps an arm around Julia, pulling her closer to his side, and answers for the both of them. "Absolutely, we'll stick to the story."
"Fog and crazy guy, easy," Uncle Donovan says, saluting Agent Williams.
The agent with the tablet walks back over to us and sits on a chair directly in front of me. "Miss Sleighton, did Mayor Dunhill threaten you?" She asks without looking up at me.
"Yes"
"Did you fight back?" She asks, finally taking her eyes off her tablet and looking up at me.
Zeke answers for me, "Yes, she did. We all did."
"The fog?" She questions as she types quickly.
"It made it hard to see," Andy says, leaning forward. "Even hard to breathe."
"It sucks," Uncle Donovan adds.
The agent nods. "Okay, that matches what we are seeing," she says, standing. "That's all for now. We'll need formal statements from all of you later, but this is enough to close the scene." Then she looks at Uncle Donovan's bandaged arm. "Sir, do you need medical attention?"
Uncle Donovan winks at her and smiles. "This old thing," he says, pointing at his wound. "Nah, I'm ok. I'm tough." The agent ignores his flirting and says a quick goodbye. Agent Williams walks up to my uncle and slaps him lightly on the back of the head.
"Really, Donovan, can you not flirt with the female agents?" Agent Williams says, reprimanding him. Uncle Donovan rubs the back of his head and smiles.
The agents spread through the house again, collecting evidence while Agent Williams watches over every movement like one wrong question could undo everything.
Agent Williams looks at us, lowers his voice, and says, "You all did good. Stick to that story." Before any of us can respond, the front door swings open hard enough to rattle the frame. A tall, broad-shouldered man strides inside, his suit crisp and his expression hard. One of the other agents greets him as Field Commander Rourke. The commander scans the room once, taking in the frost, the broken windows, and the overturned furniture, and his jaw tightens.
"Agent Williams," Rourke says loudly. "Report." Agent Williams steps forward immediately. He talks to him in low tones; the conversation seems tense from their body language. We can't hear anything they are saying. The field commander nods as he listens and discreetly looks in our direction every so often.
After a while, we hear Field Agent Rourke say, "The scene is now closed. Agent Williams, you're clear to escort the civilians out."
Agent Williams nods and says, "Yes, sir." Then Field Agent Rourke leaves without another word. Agent Garcia and Julia waste no time following him out. You can tell they want to be as far away from me and this house as possible. I can't say I blame them after everything they have seen and witnessed tonight. Honestly, if it were me in their shoes, I would probably feel the same.
The house feels lighter once the agents and field commander are gone, but Agent Williams does not relax. He waits until the door shuts behind the last person before turning back to us. We can tell he has something on his mind, something heavier than the investigation. After a few seconds, he takes a deep breath and speaks.
"Now that Dunhill is handled, you can finally reconnect with them." Uncle Donovan's breath catches, and for a second he looks like the room has vanished around him. I feel the veil pulse; it is warm and curious, almost like it recognizes the shape of hope before I do. There is no mistaking who Agent Williams is talking about: my aunt and uncle, who have been missing as long as I have. The time has come for us to finally reconnect with them and become a proper family.
"Reconnect with who?" Zeke asks, his brow furrowing as understanding slips just out of reach.
Andy's brows knit. "Wait, what's going on?"
Agent Williams nods toward my Uncle Donovan. "Your siblings, Samuel and Betty. They're ready and waiting to be reunited with their big brother." Uncle Donovan swallows hard, emotion tightening his throat. I squeeze his hand to comfort him.
"We were waiting until it was safe," I tell them.
"You knew?" Andy asks, looking at me, shocked.
I nod. "So did Uncle Donovan," I answer.
Zeke smiles softly at me. "Then let's go meet them," he says, standing.
The room goes still as the veil hums softly inside me. Hope rises so fast it almost hurts, bright and fragile after everything we just survived. No one looking at us could guess we had just crawled out of a night of hell and were somehow walking toward family.
The night air feels different as we step outside: warmer, with no fog clinging to the edges of the yard. The outside of the house still buzzes with agents, but Agent Williams leads us past them toward his SUV. Zeke stays close to me, his hand resting on the small of my back, guiding me. Andy and Uncle Donovan walk behind us, protective and quiet. Agent Williams unlocks the SUV and gestures for us to get in. Uncle Donovan stops at the open door, staring at the empty passenger seat like climbing inside might make everything real.
Zeke touches his shoulder. "You don't have to be ready. You just have to get in," he tells him. Uncle Donovan nods and climbs inside. I think this is the first time he's been quiet since I met him. Agent Williams starts the engine, pulling away from the house and down the quiet road.
No one speaks for the first few minutes. The silence is thick with anticipation, fear, and hope, all tangled together. Agent Williams's gaze keeps darting between me, Uncle Donovan, and the road. Usually, he is cool and steady, the kind of person who keeps every emotion locked behind his badge. But right now, something is different. His armor has cracked. He fidgets with the steering wheel like he wants to tell us something and cannot figure out how to let the words go. Finally, Agent Williams clears his throat.
"I'm taking you to my home," he says. "Betty's home." Uncle Donovan's head lifts, and I catch my breath. Betty lives with him. The thought lands slowly, rearranging everything I thought I understood about Agent Williams. His willingness to help us through all the chaos suddenly makes sense. He was never just protecting witnesses. He was protecting family.
"Wait, Betty lives with you?" Andy asks sharply.
"Yes," Agent Williams nods once, his eyes still on the road.
Uncle Donovan stares at him, trying to process everything. "You… you're married to my sister?"
"Yes," Agent Williams says, exhaling slowly.
Uncle Donovan shakes his head, overwhelmed. "I didn't know she was married. I didn't know she was alive. You just said someone claimed to be her, but DNA had to be done. I didn't…" He trails off.
"I know, and I'm sorry," Agent Williams says gently. "She didn't want you to know. Not until Dunhill could be neutralized. Trust me, the wait has been hard on her too."
Zeke leans forward. "So Betty's been safe with you this whole time?" he asks.
"Again, yes," Agent Williams says. "For several years now."
"Thank you for protecting her," Uncle Donovan says, wiping his face with the back of his hand. His voice breaks on the last word.
"I protected them both," Agent Williams says. "Betty and Samuel." Uncle Donovan only nods because he's too emotional right now. Agent Williams keeps driving, his voice low and steady. "They've been waiting for this moment. They didn't want to risk contacting anyone until the threat was dealt with, and I agreed."
Uncle Donovan's eyes are glassy as the SUV turns onto a long, tree-lined road. My body thrums with excitement at meeting my aunt and uncle, but beneath it is something softer and scarier: the fear that wanting a family this badly might somehow make it disappear. Finally, we pull into the driveway of a small, cozy home with a wraparound porch, and warm yellow light spills from the windows. Agent Williams parks, and for a moment none of us move.