I climbed the stairs quietly, cautiously, too aware I was alone in the house. It was a strange feeling: wandering alone in someone else's house. I hardly like being alone in my own house, never mind someone else's.

I made it to the top of the stairs, half-startling myself when the floor beams creaked. I peered down the long hallway, the window at the end letting in the last rays of the sun as it set.

This felt eerie. I didn't feel like I was alone.

There was something in the air. There was something tense and heavy about the house, and the weight pressed on my shoulders like a phantom.

I tried to shake off the feeling, walking slowly down the hall, following the path of light from the window. I entered Carson's room, feeling less tense with the familiar smell of him lingering.

I made my way over to the bookshelf lining the back wall of his room, scanning it carefully for the black book with tattered edges. I ran my finger across the middle row of books, my eyes following the trail as I continued my search.

Thump.

I turned at the noise. It was faint, not nearly a loud noise, but it was close by. There was a noise. I was sure of it. But I was alone. There was no one here.

I stared out the door of the room a few moments, waiting, expecting, prepared for something to show itself any second. When a minute had passed and nothing appeared, I returned my focus to finding the book.

I was grateful to have found it soon after, desperately wanting to leave.

With Carson's book in hand, I walked back down the hallway, the odd feeling still in my stomach. But once I was halfway back to the stairs, I heard more noises. Louder noises. And these ones were definitely real.

I stilled, my feet glued to the floor beneath me, and my heart hammering in my chest. The noises continued; it sounded like feet shuffling.

I decided to follow the noise, deciding the smart decision was definitely for me to look for the source of noise while I was alone, without my phone, and weaponless.

I continued down the hall, the noises become only slightly louder as I traced them to a door.

Katie's door. The noises were coming from behind Katie's door.

It was slightly ajar, and light peeked out from the small gap. Quietly, I pushed the door the rest of the way open. There, sitting on the bed, was a woman with her back to me. Her shoulders were slumped over, and her knees were pulled tightly beneath her.

As she brought up a tissue to her face, she let out a final sniffle, quieting herself. She let out a small cough and ran her hand over her clothes, fixing them as she stood up and turned slowly to me.

"Madeline," She breathed out, her eyebrows slightly raised.

"Mrs. Daniels."

Her hair was tied up in a french twist that would look elegant on her, had there not been many strands falling out of it in careless directions. Her eyes and face were red and puffy, and there were prominent tear stains running down her cheeks. Her face, overall, looked sunken in and hollow, the dark circles under her eyes only adding to the appearance.

She turned to look away from me, glancing at the blank wall. "I-um, I wasn't expecting to run into anyone," She said, adding a small hint of laughter and assuming a fake smile and poised stature.

"I didn't know you and Mr. Daniels were home."

"Oh, we're not. I'm not," She said quickly, wiping her face in a paranoid way as if hoping to hide from me that she was crying on her dead daughter's bed just moments before. I didn't know whether to feel angry or sympathetic towards her.

"Carson doesn't know I'm here," She explained. "It's best it stays that way."

I nodded my head, "Why are you here? Are you alright?"

She finally made eye contact with me, smiling in that sad, soft way, "I shouldn't trouble you."

Anger it was. "No, please. Do," I said, aware that my tone had grown sharper than I had meant it.

"I thought we could save her," She said suddenly, almost as if she was waiting for an invitation to her bear her grievances to someone. "Everyone told us it would be impossible, she was too far beyond treatment, but we've done the impossible before. We own the hospital of the future, the least we could do is save our daughter."

"Mrs. Dan-" I attempted to cut her off, but she continued on.

"I thought if we could just get to the research lab we need, if we could just study her condition a bit more, we could find something to help her. Just something to keep her here longer, something that wouldn't kill her."

She paused for a moment, not for me to respond, but to contemplate. I watched her eyes scatter furiously, as she ran through the story she knew, matching it with the one I knew.

She shook her head, "I guess it would have been more beneficial to just have been her parents and left the doctoring to someone else for once."

"Why didn't you?" I asked. My question was blunt, unabashed. She noticed.

"We're not bad people, we're not. We loved her very much. We still do. Her and Carson. But love can't kill cancer, and it can't slow down time either."

She sighed, "The longer Katie was ill for, the more impatient we grew. You see, for us, when someone you love is sick, and you just might have the power to do something about it when it seems no one else does, it's hard to sit idly by and just hope."

For the first time, I seemed to understand her. Somewhat. I was still angry at her.

"So, that's what you were doing?" I asked. "Every time she woke up alone, every time she expected a visit from her parents and was disappointed?"

Mrs. Daniels nodded, "We hardly slept for years. If we weren't in a lab, studying her scans, we were in the library looking for cases like hers, or we were on the phone with doctors all over the world hoping to fine someone or something to slow down her disease."

"Italy," I said.

She nodded, "They were our last hope."

"And now she's dead. And you came home and left all over again. Leaving Carson and forgetting Katie. Why?"

"Guilt. We spent so much time trying to find ways to fix her, we never spent enough time enjoying her. While this room is filled with memories of the two of them for Carson, for me it's filled with reminders of what I did wrong."

I sighed, "I'm not sure what you want me to do with this information, Mrs. Daniels."

"Eleanor, please. The girl whose photograph has been under my son's pillow for half a decade should call me by my first name." I tried to hide my shock and maintain the passive face I had, but she caught my reaction. "Mothers always know," She said.

"Why did you go back to Italy?" I asked.

"Our research didn't come to a halt after Katie passed," She said, her eyes shifting off of mine. "I don't want anyone else to have to lose their child to this."

I nodded my head, looking down at the book in my hand, instantly thinking of Carson, who was currently waiting for me. Carson, who I told I'd be back in thirty minutes. Carson, who would hate to know who I was talking to right now.

"I should, um- I should get going," I said. I turned slowly, trying to process everything, but the sound of my name called me back.

"How is he?" She asked.

In honesty, I didn't know how to respond. Carson avoided talking about his parents, but when he would, he'd say he hated them. He'd say that he'd never want to seem them again, and he'd say he would never forgive them. But you didn't have to know him all that well to know he was lying through his teeth.

"I don't have a sister," I said, offering her a small, compulsive smile. "I used to wish for one all the time; a best friend to grow up with. It used to hurt me to not have a sister, but it's not really the same. So, I can't really understand what Carson feels right now."

She nodded solemnly, fidgeting in her spot, breaking the composure she'd held for so long.

"However," I continued, "I know to lose a sister, your only sister, your best friend, has to hurt a hell of a lot more than never having one in the first place. So, he isn't good, and Carson needed someone to share that pain with him, but the only people who could understand that pain abandoned him. So, he's not good. He hasn't been for a while."

Her eyes fell to the floor. Good. She should feel guilty. I wanted her to feel guilty. But I couldn't stop the sympathy that was striking me.

"He misses you," I told her, before I could stop myself. She lifted her head, eyes lighting up in hope. "He doesn't like to talk about it, but he misses you. A lot."

"How can I get him to forgive me?"

I thought about it for a second, "Come home. Start by telling him everything you told me. Just come home and start again. Show him that you want to know him again and are willing to stick around for however long that takes. And don't treat him like a child, listen to what he has to say. He's your son. He is what you have left."

"Thank you," She gave me a watery smile, her eyes glassy. Before I could react, she took the few steps between us and wrapped her arms around me. I gave in and hugged her back. When she pulled away, her hands rested on my shoulder to look at me. "Carson is very lucky to have you."

I shook my head, "No. I'm the lucky one."

* *

"Hey," I said, walking in his room and closing the door behind me.

Carson hummed in response from the bed, not turning to look at me. He was sprawled out on his stomach, resting up on his elbows, scrolling through his phone in between his hands.

"I found your book," I added, climbing on top of him, placing the book between his arms and kissing his cheek.

"You were gone quite a while, I was starting to get worried."

When I didn't say anything, he took hold of the book and flipped over, sliding back to rest his head on the headboard. He pulled me up so I was sitting me on his right thigh, wrapping his arms around me and holding the book in front of us for us both to see.

"What's so special about this book, anyway?" I asked, leaning my head into his chest.

He shrugged, "Nothing, really. I just thought you would like it."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"There's a character in here that is exactly like me."

I rolled my eyes and playfully hit his arm, "You're so full of yourself."

I felt his chest move as he laughed before kissing the side of my head, resting his own head against the side of my shoulder. He flipped open the book and started reading it aloud, his voice smooth and deep.

I smiled to myself as he read through the first chapter of the book, content with himself and the story. His body was warm and hugging me like a blanket, and his voice was soft and soothing like a lullaby. As he continued reading on, my eyelids grew heavier, and I let sleep come.

* * *

"Okay, I'm leaving now. Jason and Luna just pulled in," I called to Carson as I hopped down from the last step. I found him in the living room, watching some old sitcom with Dylan. Once I had entered, he paused the show and turned to look at me.

I watch his eyes travel up me carefully, taking a sharp inhale.

"What's that?" He asked. His jaw ticked.

I looked down, flattening the black fabric against my hips, "A dress."

I twirled around for him, so that he could get a good look. It was a tight, backless dress with a large cutout right above the waist. The dress stopped at my upper thigh and just barely covered my ass.

I looked over my shoulder to see his face, his eyes still glued on my lower back.

"Carson?"

He stood up from the couch, "You look hot." I smiled as he came over to me, kissing my lips. "Have fun tonight."

Just then, the door opened, and Luna and Jason tumbled in, wearing similarly dressy attire.

"Maddie! You ready?" Luna cheered. I nodded.

Upon their entering, Dylan had gotten up from the couch and made his way over to all of us near the front door. He looked the three of us over, and I sighed, preparing myself for the lengthy lecture that was sure to come.

"Now," He started. "What did we agree on for tonight?"

Luna sighed, "Don't let a stranger give me a drink, don't get in a stranger's car, don't give a stranger my underwear."

"Very good," Dylan said, nodding his head. "Jason?"

Jason rolled his eyes, "Don't allow the hot bar tender to spit in my drink, don't allow the hot bar tender to trade free drinks for sex, don't allow the hot bar tender to keep my underwear."

Dylan looked pleased with the answers he got from the two of them and turned to me. "Maddie?"

I shook my head, "No thanks."

"It's not a debate."

"I already had my lecture."

"You did?" Dylan asked.

I nodded. Carson responded for me, "She knows her rules. And she knows what'll happen if she breaks them. Right, Madeline?"

"Yes, Carson."

Dylan outright cringed, understanding the innuendo, and continued on with his lecture, focusing more on Luna and Jason.

"Will we have unprotected sex with a stranger tonight?"

"No," Luna and Jason responded.

"Will we leave our drinks unattended at any point?"

"No," They responded again.

"Very good. And what time will you be back?"

"No later than one," The three of us said in unison.

"And who do you call if something is wrong or you need a ride home because you are intoxicated and should not be driving?"

"You," We answered. Dylan smiled, proudly.

"Okay, Mom, if you're done, we'd really like to get going," I said.

"Fine, fine. You can leave. But be careful."

"We're always careful, Dylan," Luna responded.

"If you were careful, we wouldn't have to have this discussion every time the three of you go out alone together."

"No one's forcing you to give it," Jason shrugged casually, trying to get a rise out of Dylan.

"Get out of here before I'm tempted to slap you," Dylan retorted. Jason threw his hands up in surrender before stepping out the door, and shouting back a "Bye, Mommy!"

I turned to Carson, kissing him once more, "Bye."

"Bye, be safe, please."

"Always."