Linus is waiting for me the second I step foot inside the place he likes to call home. He stands next to the door, looking through the window to the two boys outside with disgust. That look of his, the one that insinuates that he's so much better than everyone else, fuels a deep rage in me.

    It's the same look that sometimes rubs off on me.

    "Phoebe, will you tell those boys to get off my property before I call the police?" Linus tells me rather than asking me, not peeling his eyes away from the window for a second to even look at me while he's talking.

    "One of those boys is my brother, Linus," I protest.

    "Which is why I'm giving you the chance to ask them first. Don't make me think twice," Linus turns, stepping forward until he is in front of me. Out of almost reflex, I flinch away from him. He doesn't hide the smile on his face when he notices.

    "They'll be gone in a minute, they're just waiting for me to change," I speak timidly, realising the mistake of my words the moment I speak them. His brow twitches for a millisecond, a break in his composure.

    "What on God's green earth would make you think you are ever allowed to hang out with dirty bums like them?" His anger would be obvious to even someone in a coma. To me, the heat of his rage is burning. "You have one minute to get rid of them."

    He walks away, hands behind his back as if he is a member of the royal family. I shakily inhale, holding in my sorrow as I open my front door just a crack. The two boys turn around the second they hear the sound of the lock catching the door. They look at the mental chain in confusion before looking at me. I drop my eyes to the ground.

    "Go without me. I'm not feeling well," I almost mumble, praying to whatever higher power there is that they will just take the hint.

    "You were fine two seconds ago," John B quizzes, scanning my face with a raised eyebrow. I look up at him, my eyes catching on the blonde next to him who has a look of realisation and understanding on his face, almost as if he heard the entire conversation or as if he knows the look on my face all too well. "Is everything okay, Pheebs?"

    "Can you just go? We hung out once, doesn't mean we're suddenly all nuclear family, okay?" I snap, watching as John B's face turns to slight anger. I flick my gaze over to JJ who still has that annoying look in his eyes as if he can see right through me.

    "Is your Mum not letting you come out?" John B accuses.

    The mention of my Mum makes my body go rigid. He doesn't have a right to speak to her or about her in any sort of way. She tried to help him, he would just rather sit and sulk in his shitty hut of a home.

    "Y'know, at least I have a parent who cares. Keep chasing our ghost story of a father, lord knows I've had my fair share of reaching for him. Spoiler alert, he doesn't reach back," I hiss, not giving him time to reply before I slam the door shut and press my back to the carved wood. I turn, craning my neck to look through the window next to the door.

    I hear John B scoff and kick his shoe against the concrete, "Let's get out of Kooktown,"

    "Been waiting to hear those words all day, brother," JJ replies, tapping John B on the back and leading him away. I don't miss when JJ turns back and looks my way, making slight eye contact with me through the window.

    Judging by the look in his eyes I can tell. To him, I am made of glass.

    My phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping my gaze away from the window. I pull the device out of my pocket, spying an all too familiar name on my screen.

      Rafe
      Can I see you today? Please?

    I sigh, pausing on the text message as I think of what to say in response. Rafe has mastered the art of knowing exactly what to say to appear innocent over text messages as well as soften me up to feel bad for him.

    "Phoebe?" My mother's voice saves me from my thoughts. I tuck my phone back into my pocket, turning around in time to see her waltzing towards the door. Her heels click on the polished floor, her gold bangles clicking against the glass dish in her hands. The sight of her, covered in jewellery that could clean up the cut in its entirety, makes an uncomfortable knot form in my stomach.

    Looking down, I spy a gold bracelet of my own, the one the matches hers. Instinctively, I clamp my hand around my wrist, tucking my arms closer as I wait for her to speak.

    "Hey, Mum," I awkwardly smile, still feeling uncomfortable from the interaction with Linus.

    "Did you hear about Ms Lana's Husband?" She pouts, stopping in front of me and holding the dish against her, "That poor woman must be going through absolute hell. If I lost my Linus I-"

    "Yeah, John B mentioned it to me yesterday," I say, shifting on my feet. I don't miss the way her face scrunches up for a second at the mention of my brother. It shocks me the way she so easily dismisses him. Sure, she's not his biological mother, but she was with Big John for years. She practically watched him grow alongside me.

    "Well, I wanted you to take this over to her," She flips the subject, turning the dish over to me. I take the fancy container in my palms, holding it against my abdomen. "She lives on the other side of the Island but, I figure, community services will look amazing on your college applications,"

    Seriously? A woman's husband drowned and she uses it as an opportunity to progress her family.

    "Is that okay?" She asks after I remain silent for a second too long.

    "Yeah, I'd be happy to," I smile, nodding my head. She reaches over, her manicured nails tangling in the back of my hair as she leans forward and presses a motherly kiss to my forehead.

    "My sweet girl," She mutters, pulling back from my skin. She pauses, smiling softly at me before turning on her heels and walking away from the door.

                    I clutch the dish close to my body, locking the convertible Mini Cooper behind me as I walk down the path to Ms Lana's front door. I look down at the dish, listening to the way my bracelets clink against the glass.

    Finally looking up, I notice Ms Lana's front door wide open despite the house being totally silent. My shoulders tense, my steps lighter as I approach the door of the house.

    "Ms Lana?" I call out softly, taking the first step to the house and peeking through the open door.

    A movement to my left almost makes me jump out of my skin, the dish in my hands slipping from my grip and shattering at my feet. John B and JJ appear, John B grabbing my shoulders with wide eyes as he gestures for me to be quiet.

    "What's going on? What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, looking down at my feet and attempting to flick my mothers food off of my shoes.

    "We were-"

    "The guys who shot at us just attacked Ms Lana, man!" JJ whisper-yells, gesturing to the house in a frenzy.

    "What?" I gape, looking around the area in paranoia.

    "They're gone, they just took off," John B reassures me, dropping his hand from my shoulder and turning to the house.

    I follow his gaze, stepping away from the two boys and into the house. Almost immediately, I can hear quiet sobs coming from inside the home. "Ms Lana?"

    John B and JJ stay close behind me, all three of us rigid and scared. I follow the sounds of the noise, rounding a corner to see a woman curled up in her bathroom, sobbing.

    I drop to my knees, reaching out to clasp her shoulder in a comforting way, "Ms Lana? Are you okay?"

    She turns to me in shock, her eyes wide and bloodshot. She continues crying, John B dropping beside me to try to comfort her further.

    "Dude, she's tweaking, c'mon," JJ says. I glance at him, noticing almost instantly how rigid and nervous he looks. For someone who acts so confident, he doesn't seem it.

    "Do you need a doctor?" John B asks gently. Ms Lana doesn't reply, instead, only crying harder. John B turns to me, his face stunted in shock, "Let's call the sheriff's department,"

    "No, no, no, no cops. Please," Ms Lana finally speaks up, her eyes wide in fear as she pleads with us all.

    "Mm, that's not good," JJ speaks up once more, pressing his lips together and tapping my brothers shoulder, "C'mon dude, let's just go,"

    "You shouldn't be here," Lana sobs harder, shaking her head.

    "That's enough for me, c'mon," JJ verbally begs once more, this time, tapping my shoulder as if I have a higher chance of listening.

    "We can't just leave her like this," I tell him, my shell softening at the fear on his face. This whole situation seems like something all too familiar to him, maybe in the same way it's familiar to me.

    "What do you know about those guys?" JB quizzes Lana.

    "They were looking for something," Her fragile voice wobbles her reply.

    JB turns to me almost instantly, making eye contact with me for a second before ruffling in his pockets and pulling our father's compass out, "Does it have anything to do with this?"

    He holds it up into her view, her face almost instantly dropping when she spies the golden compass. I speak up, "Ms Lana, do you know anything about this?"

    "This is my--our father's and Scooter had it," John B joins in, quickly correcting himself from his small verbal exclusion of me. "Why?"

    "Scooter didn't have it, okay?" Lana tells us, more panic filling her body, "Don't tell anyone you have that! They can't know!"

    "Why?" John B repeats over Mrs Lana's hysteric rambling. I reach for JJ's hand on my shoulder, using him to pull myself up into a stand as her words start to freak me out.

    I stand still, watching as John B continues to shout over her ramblings to try and get answers out of the upset woman. I reach for his arm, tugging him up and away from her, "John B, c'mon,"

    John B can barely pull his eyes away from her as I pull him out of her view while JJ and I make sure he follows us outside the door frame. We get to the Twinkie in no time, my car being parked around the corner.

    "What the hell is going on?" I ask no one in particular, lifting my hand to ruffle it through my hair. Annoyingly, I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. I know it's Rafe calling me once again, so I ignore it for now. "What did those guys do? Beat her up?"

    "More, like, threw stuff at her, I think," JJ rambles, rubbing his arms in comfort.

    "Oh, that's great," I comment sarcastically, groaning as my phone only continues to buzz rapidly. I yank my phone out, staring at the screen with Rafe's name displayed. "Of course, Rafe calls me at the worst times possible,"

    "You're really gonna answer that?" John B asks in confusion, watching as I hold the phone up.

    "If I don't he'll check my location!" I admit in frustration, ignoring the sideways glances they send each other. I slide the icon across, holding the phone up to my ear and smiling insincerely as I turn my back to them, "Hey Rafe!"

    "I've been trying to call you all day, where are you?" He asks, the annoyance clear in his voice. I roll my eyes from the safety of our distance, wanting nothing more than to just block his contact.

    "Oh, Charlize wanted me to bring a dish to Ms Lana but, I'm leaving now," I respond, covering bases in case my Mother brings it up in small talk or he's already seen my location.

    "Stop here on the way," He demands rather than suggests, his tone leaving no room for protest.

    I press my lips together, defeat making my shoulders slump, "Yeah, no problem. See you then,"

    Quickly, I press the red button and end the call before he has the chance to tell me he loves me. I turn back to the two pogues behind me, noticing how they were trying to communicate behind my back before dropping it and pretending to be still.

    "I gotta go,"

    "He really tracks you? Like a pet?" John B asks, disgust and anger lining his face. His feelings aren't directed at me, his emotions are only heightened by the stressful situation.

    "I'm not getting into this with you, right now," I tell him, swiping my hand as if to wipe the conversation from the area, "I'll meet you at your house when I'm done, alright? Stay safe, please,"

    With that, I turn on my heels and make my way to my car.

                    "You should have seen Sarah today," Rafe scoffs, shaking his head at the mention of his little sister. I've only spoken to Sarah a few times, but she seems sweet, a little bit of an airhead at times, but a gentle soul, "She put on this whole show,"

    "I bet," I mindlessly agree with him, knowing from experience it's better to let the conversation go his way. 

    "And Dad just eats that shit up, y'know?" He continues his rant, dropping down onto his bed beside me. He leans back on his elbow, holding his hands up in emphasis before turning to me, "I don't get it, really,"

    "It's different when it's his daughter. He just knows he doesn't have to worry about you," I comfort him, lifting my hand to push his hair strands out of his face. He leans into my touch, something about him turning into a needy child whenever he gets the attention he craves. I've seen him act similarly when it comes to Ward, his father. 

    He gazes up at me, shifting his head to press his lips against my palm before muttering into the skin, "You've been spending a lot of time with John B lately,"

    I blink, surprised at the way he says it like an accusation. I quickly recover, smiling down at him, "You spend a lot of time with Sarah and Wheezie, too," 

    "That's different," He says calmly, moving his hand to hold my palm against him. 

    "How so? He's my sibling," I question him.

    "Half," He corrects all too quickly. 

    "It doesn't matter to me. I grew up with him," I push further, noticing the way he freezes for a second before looking up at me, his grip on my hand tightening. He looks at the cut on my head, now a pinkish colour with the bandage removed. 

    He doesn't say anything, only brushing the hair from my eyes and lightly tracing the mark with his finger. "Come to dinner with me tonight. Here,"

    I nod, slipping my hand from his grip and slowly moving myself away from him, "Yeah, for sure. I just have a few things I need to do and then I'll come right back,"

    "Don't keep me waiting," He smiles at me, watching as I grab my things and exit his room, almost jumping down the staircase in excitement. Maybe John B has figured out some more about the situation from earlier.

    "Hey, Phoebe!" Sarah calls as I reach the bottom of the staircase. I follow her voice, finding her passing through the entryway with a smile on her face, her blonde hair framing the golden glow of her features. 

    "Hey, Sarah," I reply, furrowing my eyebrows as I watch her walk past me and deeper into the house. Sarah's great, but she never usually greets me.

    Shaking my head, I walk out the door and get into my car. Before starting the vehicle, I make sure to take my phone out and turn it off, assuring Rafe can't track me or call me continuously. 

    Driving around this fancy car is starting to feel more and more ridiculous, especially on the Cut. So, I stop at home quickly and swap my car out for my old, dusty bike. If I want to be incognito from the overbearing Kook side of my life, a bike is probably more discreet.

    The closer I get to the Cut, the more anxious I feel. All those emotions I felt seeing Ms Lana so distressed. The small cuts on her face, the disheveled hair. It takes me back to the night I found my Mum in the same state while she insisted to me that Linus would never touch her again. I guess she was telling the truth. Since then, he's only ever slapped me every once and a while.

    Being too deep in my thoughts, I don't notice a thick branch on the path, probably from Agatha. Right outside the chateau, I hit the branch enough to send the handlebars out of my grip, my butt coming off my seat and landing on John B's front lawn.

    "Shit," I curse, pushing myself up and brushing off all the leaves and other pieces of nature. I look down at my knees, brushing the dirt off of the scrapes.

    "You alright, Pheebs?" I hear John B's voice. I look up, shielding my eyes with my hands from the glaring sun. I smile tightly, leaving my bike on the ground as I walk up to the front porch of his house.

    "Nothing hurt but my ego," I insist, lowering my hand once the house covers the sun from my eyes.

    "Never seen such a gnarly wipeout," JJ teases, releasing smoke from his mouth with a silver THC Juul in his hand.

    I don't bother replying, flipping him off before turning to my brother who stands next to Kiara and Pope, "Alright, so. What's going on?"

     "Trying to figure out why they would want the compass," Kiara informs me, rubbing her forehead.

    "It's a piece of shit. You could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to," Pope rationalises before realising his mistake. He turns to John B with a wince, "No offence, I know it's in your family--and I guess, yours too-"

    "The office," John B cuts Pope off from tying himself into a tighter knot.

     I think back to when I lived in this house, something that felt like a lifetime ago. I was only ever allowed in Dad's office when we were drawing treasure maps together, the one thing he did to bond with me.

    "Dad's office?" I clarify.

    "Yeah," He nods before beginning to walk into the house, all of us following behind him. "It's a lot worse than how you remember it. He always kept it locked because he was scared of his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research,"

    "Wow, wow, wait. The Royal Merchant?" I gape, quickening my pace to join JB's side. "The shipwreck that Dad was obsessed with? The one that went down with a shit ton of gold?"

    "Yes, that exact one," John B replies as we enter the lounge.

    "Is that what this whole thing is about? That ship?" I pry further.

    "I don't know yet. Not for sure," He replies almost sadly, reaching the white door of our father's office. I feel myself freezing at the sight of the door, memories of my Dad and I when I was younger, back when my Mum felt lighter in her steps. I imagine him sitting in there, writing me the birthday cards he sent me before he stopped sending them. 

    My heart clenches at the thought of our old drawings still being in there.

    John B takes his keys out, unlocking the door and pushing it open. 

    "I've slept over here like 600 times and I've never seen this door opened," Pope mutters as we pile into the messy room. Papers are thrown everywhere, a vast contrast to the organised man I remember. Almost as if this room represents his descent into madness. 

    John B grabs a board from the wall, pulling it off and placing it onto the table in front of all of us, "Here, look. This is the original owner, right here,"

    "Okay, Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 to 1920," Kiara reads the name from the board. She points to a spot on the photo, a light circle under her finger, "There's the lucky compass right there,"

    "Lucky is one way to put it," I comment, remembering the history behind that compass.

    "He, um.. he was shot after he bought it," John B informs, "Then, the compass was shipped to Henry. He was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass. After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Steven had the compass with him when he died in Vietnam,"

    "Let me guess, he died in action. Right?" JJ asks, smiling like he's proud of himself for getting ahead of John B.

    "Wasn't he killed by a banana truck?" I ask John B, trying to bite back my smile at the memory of our Dad telling us that.

    "After that, Stephan passed the compass to my Dad," John B finishes, his finger landing on a picture of him when he was younger next to our Dad. No sign of me anywhere.

    "Hm. Sounds like there's a reoccurring theme here," JJ points out.

    "Yeah, um. You have a death compass," Pope agrees, sounding stressed.

    "I do not," John B argues, ignoring as Pope and JJ continue to pester him into getting rid of the cursed item.

    "My Dad used to talk about this compartment in here. Soldiers used to hide secret notes," John B ignores their comments, sitting down as he inspects the golden item. He opens it, flipping it upside down and fiddling with it. Just as I'm about to tell him he's wasting his time, a slot slides and reveals a flat spot, letters carved into the golden surface.

    "What's that?" Kie asks, inspecting the clue.

    John B looks up at me, turning the compass for me to see the word, "That's Dad's handwriting,"

    "How can you know that?" Pope asks, the doubt obvious in his tone.

    "He writes his R's specifically like that, even on paper," I join John Bs side, remembering the R's from his letters.

    "Can I see?" JJ asks, standing behind John B and leaning over his shoulder to inspect it, He furrows his eyebrows, trying to read the word and failing miserably.

    "Redfield," I save his efforts, my arms crossed over my chest. "It's on the tip of my tongue but, that sounds really familiar,"

    "Maybe it's an anagram," Pope suggests. John B agrees, grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil. The sound of a rooster cawing almost makes me jump, Pope screws his face up, "I don't know how you can think with that thing crowing at you,"

    "JJ loves the roaster," John B replies nonchalantly, taking a sheet of paper of his own.

    I turn to Dad's desk, opening the drawers in an attempt to find anything that may jog my memory. I get to the bottom draw, pulling it open to reveal the entire thing filled with all sorts of letters, cards and postcards. I hesitate before picking one up, inspecting the cover before opening it and reading it.

    It's a letter to me for my 16th birthday, one of the birthdays after he stopped writing to me.

    Why does he have this? Why would he write all these notes without sending them? Worse, why would he stop?

    "I'll be back," I whisper, my chest tightening in a painful way. I brush past all of them, heading outside and down the porch steps, my hand on my chest as I try to calm myself.

    Why would he not send them?