“Ooh, you’re losing your touch, Bro. She saw.” Dum looks around to see if anyone is listening.

“No way. My touch is like butter.” Dee opens his now empty palms and wiggles his fingers. “She’s just smart, that’s all. She can figure things out.”

“Yeah, and that’s why we feel so bad about only thinking of you as a candidate for fights, Penryn. Speaking of which, how do you feel about wearing a nun’s habit?”

“Better yet, hot librarian glasses.” Dee nods at me like he’s giving me a tip. “Turns out we have both librarians and nuns here.”

“Does it get any better than that?” Dum’s eyes are wide with wonder.

They look at each other and simultaneously call out, “Librarian mud fights!” They shake their hands in the air like excited little boys.

Everyone in the hallway looks over at us.

“See? Look at the interest,” says Dee.

But then the hallway clears as people pour out through the door. Something is happening.

“What’s going on?” I ask someone as he peers outside.

“No idea,” he says. He looks scared but excited. “Just following the crowd to see what’s happening. You too, huh?”

A woman brushes past us. “Someone’s been found dead or mangled or something.” She pushes through the doors, letting cold air in.

Dead or mangled.

I follow her.

Outside, a small crowd full of tension hovers on the walkway in front of the main building. The sun may be low on the horizon but the overcast sky simply drains the color, painting everyone shades of gray.

People look across El Camino. On the other side is the fenced grove where I chased the squirrel. During the day it’s beautiful and peaceful, with the trees spaced far enough apart to give the area dappled shade without darkness. But as the light dims, the grove starts looking sinister and foreboding.

A few people run straight from the building to the grove, while others hesitate before walking there. Still others linger in hopes of safety near the building, while squinting to see what’s going on in the shadows beneath the trees.

I pause to take in the situation, then join those who are running to the grove. I can’t help but wonder what draws them there in the dimming light. Snatches of conversation along the way clue me in.

I’m not the only one who worries about someone they love. Lots of people got separated during the chaos of the angel invasion or the aerie attack. Now they’re frantically worried that whoever is left in their family might have been hurt or killed. Others are just more curious than smart, emboldened by being part of an organization full of people with purpose, something they thought might never happen again.