We sit back onto the bed of the truck, pushing ourselves to the back until our spines rest against the back window. Neither of us looks at the other, instead, we look out at the sun over the hills.

    "I know that you haven't told me everything. There are things that the Vamps have told me, important things, that I should have been taught when becoming a hunter. Why?" I begin, desperately wanting answers. Things like the Vamps ability to secrete venom feels like life or death, something I should know.

    She pauses, her eyes never leaving the sunset. She smiles, tilting her head, "Ignorance of the mind is clarity of the soul, y'know? What's stained can't be restored,"

    "Since when did you speak in riddles? What the fuck does that even mean," I laugh in annoyance, throwing my hands up and letting them hit my outstretched legs. 

    "It means, once you know something you can't unknow it," She clarifies, turning her head to me, "You might think you want the answers, but that's only because you don't know what they are, what they could be,"

    "Alis, I'm not doing this. Don't treat me like I'm some sheltered little lamb who's never had her worldview rocked, okay? Just tell me," I plead, feeling annoyance creep up my spine like a chill.

    "My point is, Mic. You know the truth, you've always known. I think your brain just puts holes in your memory so you can't see the full picture. I guess I tried to keep you safe by going after vampires because, if we didn't scare them, I was scared that they would take you from me. I know you've felt it, felt them," She pushes, searching my face for any sign or indicator of her theory being proven, "There's always been someone watching us, Mic. Ever since you were a kid. To be honest, I'm not totally sure we're alone right now, I never am,"

    I shiver, instinctively looking around the area for any sign of someone, "I know. But, it comes with the job. We always have to sleep with one eye open,"

    She shakes her head, her eyes squinting as she looks ahead once more, the sky getting darker by the minute, "Not like this. They've always felt... protective. I mean, why do you think I randomly painted our door red? It was like I was... compelled to do it,"

    "Have you ever felt that before? Compelled?" I push, getting addicted to the taste of information.

    "Sometimes, not often. I felt it when I started training you. Truthfully, I don't know why I never trained Leila. Every time I thought of it, it was like I immediately just thought 'why bother'? When, really, I should have bothered," She turns back to me, holding eye contact tensely before she speaks again, "I know I didn't feel it when Alex went missing, and I know I didn't turn him. Someone else did. I don't know why he thought it was me, maybe he was compelled himself,"

    "Yeah, because you have such a common face," I laugh, rolling my eyes and leaning back against the window even further. 

    "Well, we have the same face so not totally unique," She joins, nudging me with her elbow.

    "I guess we have Mum to thank for that. Leila was looking through old photo albums once and pointed out that you're starting to look just..." My words trail off, my spine pushing myself up until I'm sitting straight, my arms that were previously tucked tightly around my waist drop slightly as I stare at my sister. My eyes scan her face, the one similar to the woman who haunts my dreams and consciousness, "...like her,"

    She tilts her head, furrowing her eyebrows as she studies me for answers. Her eyes, the ones we share with our mother, widen, her posture straightening, "No. You don't think-"

     "Levi's Mum--Leila's real mum--she died the same night as our parents did," I inform, pushing myself closer to her, "I never saw Mum's face that night. I mean, it's possible-"

    "Michaela," Alis cuts me off, her tone stern as my name comes off as a warning, "I get it, it does make sense. But, you need to be sure of this before accusing our Mother of--of this,"

    "Fine," I reply, pushing myself off the flatbed of her truck. My boots hit the gravel, dust coating the leather as I make my way over to my bike. I swing my leg over the seat, snatching my sticker-covered helmet from the vehicle.

    "Where are you going?" Alis asks, a lack of interest in her voice as I pull the helmet over my head.

    "I'll see you at home," I call through the helmet, turning my bike on and ripping away from the spot, leaving Alis behind. 

                    The red door slams shut behind me, the house now empty aside from Leila's sleeping figure on the couch. 

    My footsteps thump on the staircase, my hands reaching for my shoes as I pull them from my feet, leaving them behind while I walk further down the hallway. My socks come off next before my hand reaches for the bathroom door, turning the knob and pushing the door open.

    Tommy stands behind the door, his face covered by his t-shirt as he pulls it back over his head, my eyes catching a glimpse of the scar on his stomach before the material covers it. 

    "Heard you stomping up the stairs, what are you doing?" He asks, slight uninterest clear in his voice. He stares at himself in the mirror, using the towel in his hand to shake the water from his hair.

    "Don't you have your own home to go and shower in?" I ask, shutting the door behind me. I grab the hem of my dress, pulling the material up and over my head, dropping it to the floor beside me.

    Tommy turns, leaning against the sink as he looks me over, "I don't get this view at my house, do I?"

    "Don't be cute," I screw my face, moving to the bath and plugging the drain, letting the water fill the containments. I then stand up straight, facing the male before me, "I need you to drown me again,"

    He stares at me for a second as if waiting for me to laugh and tell him I'm joking. He stands up straight, shaking his head, "No,"

    "You've done it before-"

    "I didn't want to do it then, either," He reminds.

    "Fine," I laugh dryly, crossing my arms over my chest, "I'll just wait for Levi to get back and ask him to do it," 

    "What are brothers for, right?" He smiles wickedly, watching how I shiver at his stupid joke.

    "You're not funny and he's not my brother," I scoff, turning my back to him and observing the water, sitting on the edge of the bath. "Fine. Don't help me. If you don't, I'll just weigh myself down underwater and hope someone saves me in time. Either way, it's happening,"

    "Why? Why do you want to do this?" He asks, his voice strained from behind. I swirl my hand in the cold water, goosebumps rising up my arm.

    I don't reply instantly, my focus on the water and the feeling spreading through my skin, "When I died, I saw that night happen again, more details than before. I'm forgetting things about that night, things that didn't seem important before. If I go there again, I think I can finally get the full story," 

    He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. He knows the full story, all the details of everything happening. He just can't tell me.

    I turn over my shoulder, making eye contact with him, "It's Mum. She didn't die that night. I think Levi's Mum died in her place. I just need to be sure,"

    He sighs, dropping his arms from their position crossed over his chest. He walks over to me, my neck tilting to meet his standing height, "I'm never doing this again,"

    "I know," I all but whisper.

    He lifts his wrist to his mouth, his canines sharpening enough to sink into the skin there. He lowers the wound, holding it in front of my face and urging me to drink it. I huff, leaning forward and locking my lips around the holes in his skin, watching his face as I follow his silly precaution, feeling the holes close up and heal under my tongue. I pull my head away, a small trail of blood falling from my lip, which I quickly wipe away.

    "Happy?" I ask.

    "Very," He replies sarcastically, his arms crossed over his chest as I move. I turn the tap off, slowly lowering myself into the ice-cold water. 

    The following steps move like a silent ritual. My face sinking into the water, my hands gripping onto his forearms as he holds me under, my body tingling all over right before his distorted face disappears from view, my body sinking away into a darkness. 

    My eyes open again, the white door staring back at me, a circle of stained glass shining onto my face, casting a kaleidoscope of a rainbow on my skin. 

    I reach out, holding onto the gold doorknob and yanking it open. Everything hits me at once: the sound of my younger self's footsteps on the floor, hazel eyes peaking around the corner and widening, the metallic smell of blood.

    A wet sensation covers my feet, my eyes trailing down to watch as blood covers the part, the stickiness between my toes uncomfortable. I follow the trail of red, dark blonde hair staring back at me.

    A gasp lodges itself in my throat, my body lowering until my knees are also coated in the blood, my shaking hand reaching out for the shoulder of the dead woman in front of me. I swallow, my fingers still circled around her shoulder as I build up the courage. 

    I pull her shoulder towards me, her body turning inch by inch until her face becomes clear. I fall back onto my butt, my heart thumping as I push my back into the nearest wall. My own face stares back at me, pale and unmoving. 

    Arms wrap themselves around me, my body flinching away, only to be kept tightly in place by the slender limbs. I turn over my shoulder, my surroundings changing to the black void, and a woman behind me with a soft smile on her face.

    Her hair is so light it almost glows, her pale skin making it seem like she's almost drained of all blood. I look down at her white dress, blood dripping from her neck and coating the material in a harsh red stain.

    I look back up at her face, green eyes and pink lips greeting me. Her face is familiar enough to relax me, as if an older version of Leila is holding me gently.

    "Estelle?" I ask in a whisper, her head nodding in confirmation. I watch as her eyes move from me, settling on something in front of us, just out of my eye line.

    I turn, something new added to the void with us. Leila lies still on the couch, her breathing slow and eyes closed in a deep slumber.

    Estelle leans down to my ear, her arms hugging me tighter, "You've done such a good job raising our girl,"

    My chest tightens, my eyes unable to move from my little sister.

    "Isn't she beautiful?" Estelle's voice, airy and light, adds on. We both watch intensely, hypnotised by the young girl with who we share blood.

    "She looks just like you," I tell her, the similarities between them more than clear. 

    "Oftentimes, daughters couldn't be more different from their mothers. Features don't shape characteristics, environments do," Her voice wades through the air, my eyes trained on my sister as she sleeps peacefully. "You're not like her, Michaela. You're smarter than her,"

    My head whips around, turning over my shoulder in an effort to ask her what she means, knowing deep down what it means. When I finally turn, the slender arms are replaced with more muscle tone, the light blonde hair replaced with a short brown style. Thomas stares at me now, blood coating his teeth and mouth, dripping from his chin onto my shoulder. 

    "Time to wake up," He says softly. Before I can object and tell him I'm not ready, even beg for more time, he slowly leans towards me. His blood-soaked lips touch mine, my body leaning into his soft kiss, the metallic taste transferring between us.

    I feel the air being shoved back into my lungs, my eyes open to reveal the warm bathroom around me. I turn to my side, coughing up a lungful of water. Hands grab my shoulders, pulling me up to sit as a towel gets wrapped around my body, my legs pulling into myself. 

    Tommy's face is full of concern, sad eyes watching me, brushing wet hair out of my face. 

    "You okay, Mic?" He whispers, his hand softly cradling my face. I push air in and out of my lungs, resting my forehead in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. 

    My chest heaves, a smile spreading over my face before air is pushed out in the form of a bitter laugh. Tommy sits back, holding me up to look at my smiling face in confusion. 

    "I knew it!" I exclaim in a laugh, pushing myself to a stand and grabbing my clothes from the ground, pulling my dress over my head. "That fucking bitch. It wasn't my fault," 

    "No, it wasn't," He reassures, brown eyes watching me carefully. 

    "I'm free. Free from that fucking burden I've had all these years," I laugh, pushing my wet hair back and facing him, "I feel so much lighter,"

    "I think you're in shock, Michaela," He says slowly as if he's scared to say the wrong word and set me off. 

    "You don't understand, Thomas," I shake my head, the grin still tight on my face, "I became a hunter because of her. I hate what you and Leila are all because of my Mum and what she did that night. But, it wasn't some random Vampire, it was her! It was always fucking her,"

    "Michaela-"

    "I don't have to make myself hate you anymore," I laugh, stepping closer to him. My hands reach for his face, holding him still as I push myself up, pressing my lips against his hard. He leans into the kiss before pulling himself back, his hands on my hips to keep me at an arm's distance. His eyes remain closed, his face looking almost pained, like the last thing he wants to do is pull away.

    "I'm gonna go. Give you some space," He announces, opening his eyes before moving to the door. 

    "I don't want fucking space, Thomas," I announce, following him through the doorway. 

    "I'll be back later, okay?" He says softly, heading down the staircase with me close behind him. 

    I feel a strange rage take over me, something unprovoked yet impossible to ignore. My anger isn't at him, it hardly ever is. But, it's a lot easier to channel it into small things he does rather than feel the weight of the big stuff.

   "Are you serious right now?" I snap, stepping in front of him and forcing him to stop his pursuit of the front door. I ignore the sudden presence of the others around us, my eyes focused on him, "You're just leaving?"

    "You need time to process this," He says, his voice still calm, which only rages me further.

   "Since when did you tell me what I need? I don't need to process shit," 

    "I don't want to argue with you, Mic, please," He almost pleads, looking around at the other people pretending not to be listening to our conversation. 

    "Oh, I get it," I scoff, stepping forward and jabbing my finger into his chest, "Now that we've fucked there's no need to pretend like you care so much anymore. Fine, fuck off then, Thomas. But don't come back," 

    He grabs my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. The gesture feels like a soft punch to the gut, my body flinching even as he leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead, right on my hairline. He stands up straight, letting go of my hand, "I'll be back later, okay?"

    He stays there for a minute as if waiting for me to say something, but knows I won't. 

    He leans down to my ear, wanting to keep our conversation as quiet as possible, "Remember, you don't have to get so defensive with me all the time. I do care, Mic. You know I do," 

    I don't say anything as he brushes past me, closing the door gently behind him, my back facing it. I blink, quickly lifting my hand to swipe any loose tears from my face. My cheeks heat up at the sudden realisation of the audience around me, the embarrassment settling in. 

   My feet start moving again, carrying me all the way to the door to the backyard, the garage sitting there waiting for me.