Moments passed. The trees stopped moving. Not a bird cawed.

Silence. It had a weight, and she felt it climb onto her back and hold on.

Finally, a shadow shifted. A curtain twitched. Her heart leapt to her throat.

The door creaked open, and a silhouette emerged.

Maxwell.

“Thank God! Thank you! Thank you!”

It took all of her mental focus not to sprint across the lawn and risk upsetting the beast more. She stayed put and he bounded toward her.

“She went back to her room. As soon as you left, she went back to her room,” he explained before even reaching her.

He was panting, his fear so thick she could reach out and grab a fistful. He stepped within range, and she flung her arms around him until they crossed on the other side. Maxwell gripped her just as tight.

“We’ll figure this out. I swear,” she promised in his ear.

Their arms locked so fiercely that the heat of their bodies, the smell of their sweat, almost fused them together.

She heard him sniffle. Oh God, he’s crying.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered. “I’ll call my parents. I promise. It’ll be okay.”

She knew she couldn’t really promise that. She didn’t know when her parents would be home, and that left Maxwell and his sister sleeping down the hall from whatever that was.

“She…she lit those candles. They were everywhere,” he stuttered.

“I know.”

“And the lilies. Did you smell the lilies?”

“Yes.”

“It was like she was burning. It was so hot in there.”

“I know. I felt it.” Vera’s lips practically touched his ear.

“How did her voice go normal? For a second, I heard her. Did you?”

Vera nodded.

“She was in so much pain.” The crack in his voice nearly shriveled Vera’s insides.

“I’m sorry. I know. But it’s a good thing. It means she’s fighting.”

“Fighting what?”

“I don’t know.”

Maxwell sniffed and shuddered against her; a drop fell on Vera’s bare shoulder. Then he took a big inhale, snorting back the last of his tears, and slowly loosened his grip. He shifted back a step, wiping his eye on his sleeve. Reluctantly, Vera let go.

“What…what do we do?” he stuttered.

She lifted her phone; it was one in the morning here, which meant seven a.m. there. “My parents should be awake, if not now, then soon. I’ll tell them what happened and see what they say. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

“Good. That’s good.” He shook his head stiffly.

“Maxwell, I don’t think you and your sister are safe here. Do you have somewhere you can go? Maybe to your grandparents?”

He shook his head, running his hand along his neck, so tense she could trace the tendons with her fingers. “My grandfather, my mom’s dad, he died. And my grandma, she moved back to Sweden.”

“You’re Swedish?” Vera didn’t mean to sound shocked, but she was.

“Yeah, I’m pretty much what you get when you mix everything in a pot and stir.”