Eerie, too, because she had run into them in the years before Gold Morning. They were growing up. Some had left, by the looks of it, but most had stayed.

There were parents. She recognized Vista’s. She had talked to Tristan and Byron’s, answering questions and sending them to the coffee shop. Mr. Vera looked old, and he wasn’t really that old in reality. Good looking in a dad way, graying hair, lined face combined with a younger, athletic frame. It broke her heart in a few ways, just talking to the man. Because some of that age and weariness was because of the events of the last few years weighing heavily on him, wearing him down and costing him sleep. She saw it in his eyes, a perpetual sadness or pain.

Trigger events didn’t just affect the one person, after all. He’d lost one half of two sons when the brothers had triggered, years ago. From the way he’d talked, he was here for only one son, which made her think of Carol. She didn’t know the full details, but she was pretty sure the circumstances were different here. Carol hadn’t been so wounded or sad about it, when she’d taken the stance.

It broke her heart too, because this sad old man made her think of Dad. Mr. Vera was a reminder that her mental measure of a father was broken. Hers would remain perpetually frozen, locked at a certain age, a certain posture, a certain tone and sound of voice. Just like her measure of a little brother, or her measure of a mom.

She blinked a few times in rapid succession, to clear her eyes and focus on the situation.

Mrs. Vera was younger, petite, and had locks of white hair in an otherwise young complexion and hair. From the way she’d fawned over Crystal and brought her a coffee a half hour ago, and her general nurturing demeanor, dropping in the occasional Spanish word, she made Crystal think of a woman destined to be a great grandmother one day. She spent a while talking to Tribute, one of the Shepherds.

There were others, but they’d turned up after she had set up position on the sidewalk, and they didn’t look as approachable as the Veras had.

She waited, keeping hands clenched together, an empty coffee cup held between two fingers.

She tensed as soldiers emerged from the portal station, walking straight over to the guards on duty.

Come on, come on.

The first of the group emerged. Chief Armstrong, Ashley, and Sveta. Crystal pulled her phone out of her pocket and sent the alerts to everyone she’d promised to notify.