The house felt normal.
It felt solid and real, when just a short while ago, she'd been sure she was trapped in some kind of harrowing, inescapable dream.
As she took a seat at the kitchen table, a gust of wintry air blew across the floor from behind her as Aunt Sarah came back into the house. "Where have you been all this time, Tavia? Don't you know I've been worried sick about you?"
Tavia pivoted on the chair to face the older woman, feeling nothing but glad for the concern that radiated in from her wringing hands and wide, desperate brown eyes.
"The police were here yesterday," she informed Tavia in a questioning voice, her hands fisted on her hips. "They told me if I heard from you, I needed to call them right away. Of course, I thought you were with them. Isn't that what you told me? When we spoke last, you said you were staying at a hotel downtown to help the police with their investigation."
God. The police-arranged hotel suite seemed like a hundred years ago now. Everything that happened since that night seemed like it had occurred over the span of a lifetime. All she wanted was to put it behind her and get on with the life she knew. This life, the only one she wanted. "You've never lied to me before, Tavia. It's going to break my heart if you're keeping something from me now, after all these years ..."
"No." Tavia took her aunt's nervous hands in a light grasp and guided her to the chair next to her at the little table. "I wouldn't lie to you, but a lot of very strange things have been happening lately. Terrible things, Aunt Sarah. The gunman from the senator's holiday party - he broke out of police custody and killed Senator Clarence."
"I know," the older woman murmured. "It was all over the news. There's a manhunt under way for him all across New England."
Tavia shook her head at the futility of that notion. "They'll never get him. Even if the police find him and take him in, they won't be able to keep him behind bars. He'll just break out again. He's more dangerous than anyone can possibly imagine."
Aunt Sarah was frowning now, her gaze searching. "Where did you get these clothes? And where's your pocketbook? I was so relieved to see you, I didn't even think to ask why you didn't have money to pay the taxi driver ..."
Tavia kept talking, even as her aunt's voice trailed off. "He can't be dealt with like a normal criminal. He can't be dealt with like a human, because he's not. He's not human."
"You look positively peaked, dear." Aunt Sarah reached out and touched her fingertips to Tavia's forehead, then clucked her tongue as she picked up one of her hands and clasped it between her smooth, cool palms. Her skin felt like wax against Tavia's significantly warmer touch. "Are you feeling queasy right now? When was the last time you took your medications?" "Goddamn it, will you please stop fussing and listen to me!"
The older woman went immediately silent, her eyes fixed on Tavia now. Guarded and uncertain.
"That man, he broke into the hotel suite just a little while after I called you, Aunt Sarah. He killed a police officer and he incapacitated two federal agents. Then he came into the room where I was, and he took me away."
Aunt Sarah seemed somehow stony now, not breaking into the hysterical fretting that was her usual reaction to everything where Tavia was concerned. Her brown eyes unblinking, scrutinizing, she was serious and contemplative in her calm. "Did he touch you, Tavia? Did he do ... anything to you? Did he hurt you?"
Tavia had a hard time answering that. He didn't physically harm her, even though the threat had seemed very real when it was happening. "He brought me someplace - to where he used to live, I guess. He tied me up. He kept asking me questions about who I was. He didn't seem to believe anything I told him."
There was a long silence as her aunt watched her speak, absorbing the weight of her words. Then: "What did you tell him, Tavia?"
She shrugged, gave a slow shake of her head. "I told him I was no one, that I just wanted to go home. I told him I was very sick and that I left my medicines back at the hotel - "
Aunt Sarah drew a sharp breath over that bit of news. "You haven't taken them since two full nights ago?" She stood up. "I have to call Dr. Lewis right now. He'll need to come here to the house and give you an emergency treatment."
Tavia grabbed her hand and held her in place. "Aunt Sarah, something very strange happened to me today. I can't begin to make sense of it ..."
She pulled up the long sleeve of her hoodie, baring her forearm. The markings there were back to their normal color now, just faintly darker than her own skin tone.
"What is it?" her aunt asked, peering at her uncovered arm. "Tell me what to look for. Are your scars giving you pain? Because Dr. Lewis can prescribe something for that, I'm sure - " "They're not scars," Tavia murmured. She ran her fingers over the webwork of swirls and arcs, feeling nothing unusual. "I don't know what they are, but just a little while ago, these markings were all different colors. They were ... I don't know how to explain it. They were ... alive somehow."
Aunt Sarah was staring at her, not at the markings on her arm but deep into her eyes. "They look perfectly ordinary to me, sweetheart. I don't see anything wrong."
"No," Tavia said. "Neither do I. Not anymore." Which made her wonder once again - made her hope desperately - that the transformation she thought she'd experienced had just been a bizarre hallucination. "What about my eyes, Aunt Sarah? How do they look to you?"
"The same pretty green as always," she answered gently. "But those dark circles under them concern me very much. You need rest and you need your medication."