“Now, that’s a challenge.” We launch into a long discussion of demon fighting, which is incredibly satisfying on multiple levels. Dad keeps his own set of demon notebooks, which he promises to show me. So. Cool.

The light in my window becomes darker. My eyelids grow heavy. I want to say goodbye, but can only manage a ‘hmm’ sound as I fall asleep. My dreams take me to a small clapboard house with an emerald-green yard. Above my head, the sky’s a sheet of white light. I sit on the front porch in a rocking chair, smiling as I slowly sway to and fro. Everything is peaceful and lovely.

I awaken to the sound of whispers. Mom and Walker stand by my bed. By the light from my window, I figure it must be late in the day.

My face brightens. “Hey, cuz! Good to see you. Are you feeling okay?”

Walker bows slightly. “Fully recovered, thank you for asking. And you?”

“Better.” I reach up and grab Mom’s hand. “How long have I been out this time?”

“Six days in total.” She wears jeans and a brown t-shirt. Rockin.

“Six days?” I make a barfy face. “That’s disgusting. I’m going to shower and change.”

“It’s not that bad, Myla-la. We’ve been keeping you clean by–”

I raise my hand. “Let’s stop right there. That stays a mystery.” I haul myself out of bed and shuffle toward the bathroom. “I’ll see you both in a bit.”

I shower and scope out my closet. Mom did some shopping while I was out of it; all my sweats are gone. Bonus! I put on a pair of black jeans with a red top. I shuffle into the kitchen. Walker and Mom sit at the table, steaming mugs of coffee in their hands. Xavier leans against the counter, wearing a t-shirt and loose cotton pajama bottoms. Guess he’s moved in. Nice.

I walk over and give my father a quick peck on the cheek. “Morning, Dad.”

He positively beams. “Morning, uh, daughter.”

I return the smile. “You can call me Myla or—if you must—Myla-la.”

He nods. “I’ll remember that, Myla-la.”

I lean against a stretch of counter beside him, grab a Demon bar, and munch away. “Did anyone else visit me when I was asleep? You can always wake me up, you know.”

Mom sips her coffee. “Myla, it’s not like Lincoln can just phone or stop by.”

Sometimes, I miss the old days when she had no freaking clue what I was thinking. “Why would I ask about him?”

“Weren’t you?”

I chew and swallow another bite. “Okay, yeah. I totally was.”