Harridan

Blaine poured Kieran another cupful of orange juice from her porcelain tea set. Meredith was on the bench, watching the two little girls. Would you like another cookie, Blaine signed. Kieran nodded eagerly. Blaine handed over the packet of Oreos and Kieran downed two in one sitting. How is your tea, Miss? Kieran gave another nod the sipped her orange juice from the teddy bear-patterned cup. You know, you are supposed to say something during a tea party. We talk and we have tea, not just drink tea. Blain put her hand on Kieran's knee. I will listen.

Kieran straightened up, hearing the bell shriek in her ear. Two days of searching and nothing were starting to take its toll on her and it showed; black bags formed under her eyes. Eyes that took in the Vote 4 Me prom queen posters for Catherine Harto and Addison Lillard and Jordan Kwon. Kieran reminisced over spring break, helping Blaine hand-make her white and rose gold posters. The photo they used was from Blaine's cheerleading days; before she tore her ACL and took a permanent hiatus.

Kieran teased her that whole day about being New Bristol Barbie, with chief Sulkin since it was his day off. She sighed then look across the hallway to see Logan and his friends tossing a basketball between them. Kieran gave a jagged smile but Logan turned away. Repugnance all over his Taiwanese features. Kieran sighed then shut her locker loudly. Her eyes followed him and his friends heading out the main doors.

"He's a tool," Donnie commented.

"Don't Blaine me."

Donnie pressed his lips together then tucked his hands into another one of his infamous baseball jackets; this one was grey and blue and had a hood. He nodded weakly to the back of her head. Kieran put her cardigan back on and walked out the doors with Donnie behind him. On the stairs, Kieran looked to her right at Blaine's empty parking spot, where grounds staff were removing the placard.

The whispers around school only resurfaced because murder suspect Kieran Arclight was carpooling with golden boy, Donovan Desjardins! Students and the odd teacher were awed by the red Mercedes-Benz taking off with them both in it. Kieran swept her huge curls out from under her cardigan. The spectators watched in sheer shock as the pickup truck roared off. Kieran kept her eyes locked ahead, ignoring the stares.

The X class growled through the quiet Wednesday streets towards Main Street. It was a bustling afternoon with people in- and outing the clinic. The library under the clocktower also had a lot of activity going on. Across the street from the library was the floor shop where Meredith worked and Blaine helped out. 'Flower shop' being a loose term; the flower shop also doubled as the town nursey. The nursery was heavy with yellow blooms and plants.

Donnie noticed it too; he turned off his car. Kieran followed him to the corner shop, feeling the pollen make her head heavy. Donnie held the glass door open for her. Kieran looked around the shop she and Doreen had gone through thousands of times. Meredith was at the back table, putting together dozens and dozens of yellow bouquets. She was standing there with tears in her eyes but refused to stop tying sunflowers, and roses, and lilies together.

"Meredith," Kieran called and reached for her hand. The florist pulled away and turned to set the flowers in one of her steel buckets. "You're burning up," the defender stated.

Donnie rounded the table and took Meredith's hands in his and squeezed her wrists. "Mrs. Sulkin," he boomed, and the store went even more quiet than it already was. "You're clearly not in a good head space, right now. Tell us what needs to be done," Donnie went on softly. "We can do it." Meredith's lips trembled when she tried to smile at Donnie.

The pollen finally got to Kieran and the sneeze that escaped her crystallized her shadow. Meredith's weak expression shift to Kieran. The table shielded her razor shadow from view. Meredith shook her head with growing disdain. "No," she affirmed. She shook her head vigorously enough to make her brownish hair sway. "Not her. I don't care what the autopsy says, you did this!" Kieran stepped off with her shadow dissolving. Meredith shook her head at Kieran. "You never deserved Blaine!" Kieran took a jagged gasp and tiptoed further away. "You killed her! You killed my daughter!"

The harridan turned and cried her way out of the floral shop, covering her face. Outside, she could hear Meredith's wailing lament. Kieran gave another sneeze - but under full sun - her powers were rendered useless. She wrapped her cardigan tightly around her with her arms folded, hiding her long sleeve top and her leather skirt. All that was revealed was her black pantyhose and her ankle boots.

Donnie came out ruefully and looked over Kieran's bristled form, but his sadness for Meredith contorted to worry for Kieran. "Should you be you in the sun? Can you be in the sun," the basketball captain inquired. "Traditionally, umbra affinities have a sun aversion. Well, light aversion but ultimate source of light," he gestured to the sun.

The defender rolled her eyes before turning back to his hot rod red ride. Donnie opened the door for her, and Kieran shook her head as she got in. Donnie looked across to her, brushing her hair to cover her face. Donnie drove off, peering at the Plant Stand and the plants surrounding the entrance in his rear-view mirror. Next to him, Kieran gave a muffled sniffle and Donnie came to a stop at a red light.

His fair, longer digits reached for her tanned, boney fingers and she pulled away. "Don't," she lamented. "Don't be sweet, don't be comforting. Just..." Kieran wiped her tears without turning away from the window. "Just don't talk to me." Donnie nodded, even if she didn't see it.

They drove in silence from Main Street, all the way to 18 Stirling Lane. Kieran leaped out of the high-rise car and barged through the front door. Anna held out a plate with a steamy grilled cheese, but Kieran's sob continued passed her on the stairs and concluded with the door slamming shut. Donnie threw his hands in defeat then heard James coming from his study. Atop the banister, he looked to Kieran's shut door before bustling down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to her room and pointed with a thumb. He and Anna concentrated on Donnie who shook his head weakly. "We stopped at the Plant Stand and Meredith..."

Donnie cupped the back of his neck. He exhaled heavily. Kieran's scream ripped through the mansion. Anna dropped the plate. She stormed up the stairs, James and Donnie hot on her heel. Anna all but bulldozed the door off its hinges to find Kieran shoving herself into a corner, still screaming through her sobs. Anna pulled her into a firm hug. James and Donnie took in the room with nothing out of the ordinary, save for the courier box on the desk.

"It's her heart!"

James looked into her box to find a jar with a human heart submerged in what smelled like methylated spirits. Donnie ran his fingers down the side of the jar. "It's a warning," he voiced.

"No, it's not," James replied. Donnie looked to his uncle who didn't stop examining the jar. "There's a note on the box." Donnie examined the flaps of the box, finding the note taped down on the outside that read:

My dearest Kieran, I can only imagine how awful the last few days must have been. Rest assured, I know you could never do something this heinous. Because I did this for us. The Sulkin girl would never have understood you, nobody would. I do, I can. Our powers are so alike, my beautiful princess. I know what she means to you, nonetheless, so you should always have a piece of her with you.

"That's sick," Donnie voiced. He looked to Kieran clutching onto Anna. He turned back to the heart.

"Anna, get Janice on the line. Now!" Anna shook her head, holding onto Kieran firmly. "Anna, go!" Donnie took over holding her upright and Kieran burrowed into his shoulder. "If this is Blaine's heart, then the motive for Blaine's death wasn't random torture, or hunger. It was Kierran."

"Why would she do this?"

"'She'?"

"The stalker," James replied to Donnie. "Calls herself Mommy and has a very, very twisted sense of affection." James took Kieran off Donnie. "When your mother gets here, tell her everything and tell Anna to go home." Donnie jogged out of the room. James and Kieran sank to the floor. "Let it out."

"I can't."

"Kieran..."

"Never in public."

"This's your home," he whispered against her crown. A meaty hand pressed down her curls and he leaned into her. "You're safe here. You can't hurt anyone."

Kieran sobbed into his shoulder and clutched his shirt tighter with her eyes closed. She grunted her strained through gritted teeth. She shook her head. James combed down her hair, feeling her starting to slip. Kieran fought against the darkness filling the room and willing it to return to her, to no avail. James stroked through her unruly hair with his vision growing darker. The mewling was the only sign of life in the blackness.

Donnie saw darkness slithering down the stairs like a weightless, cascading waterfall. He followed it back to the bedroom door, when Kieran was flooding the entire second floor with ankle-deep shadows. He stood staring at the abyss, only hearing and not seeing anything at all. The bawling from within was something he could spectate - unsure what more he could do. From there, Donnie heard Kieran try to rein it in. Frustrated groans and grunts came from the sightlessness and the shadows began on a retreating path.

A whimper came and the shadows spread again. The push and pull motion continued to mirror the states of restraint and release. All the while James was crouching on the carpet with her resting her full weight in his embrace. He could feel her heavy breathing tiring her out. The suspire that came from Kieran marked her restraint giving in. A gush of darkness swarmed the mansion! The impact flipped Donnie over the barricading! He slammed into the floor below.

Donnie groaned then rolled onto his side, cupping his ribs, the looked up. The darkness burst from the bedroom and dispersed. He took a minute to recover from his knocked-out wind. Battered by sheer force, Donnie stammered to his feet and sloppily made up the stairs to find Kieran shaking in James's arms. Donnie sank to his knees with a firm hold on his ribs. Kieran had waves surging off her and sweat dripping off her. James gathered her in his arms to set her on the bed. Soft cries wafted from her feeble form. They were brief, though, and Kieran was quickly off to sleep.

It was just Kieran and Blaine running through the meadow, sneezing from the great deal of pollen in the air. Kieran sneezed again when Blaine tackled her to the floor. They rolled over laughing, smearing grass over their coats. Blaine tried to get up but Kieran pulled her back down. She pointed off towards the trees across the meadow. Blaine looked towards the cougar creeping towards them.

Blaine jolted but Kieran grabbed her back. You are not supposed to run! Kieran turned to the cougar and back to Blaine. We face them all the time, here. Follow me, Kieran signed on. She stood up and Blaine followed suit. Kieran yowled and waved her arms chaotically, taking Blaine aback. Kieran nudged Blaine and Blaine exhaled shakily at the still-approaching cat. Blaine waved her arms and jumped around like an ape.

Doreen was sitting by their outdoor fire pit, grilling steaks and fish, with Peter and Meredith. They halted their Fourth of July to spectate their children. "Oh, a mountain lion," Doreen stated casually. Peter and Meredith rushed towards them, but Doreen held them back. "They're fine."

Kieran began back tracking and Blaine followed her lead. The cougar halted then hissed before retreating. Blaine winced then ran for her life. Kieran watched the cat walking off in defeat. She looked around to see Blaine burrowed in her father's hold. Casually Kieran returned then dusted the remnants of dirt off her dark red dress. That was fun, she gestured to Doreen with a smile.

"You have an affinity for danger," Doreen said. "Not many fourteen-year-olds can honestly say they've squared up with a mountain lion and won."

Kieran looked to Blaine, signing, are you okay? Blaine huffed and pinched her arm. Kieran gave a curt laugh, messaging her arm. Blaine sighed then buried her face into Kieran's neck, holding her tightly. Kieran pat her shoulder reassuring with the chief of police and the town's florist's pallid steadily fading with their worry. When Blaine finally let Kieran go, it was Meredith and Peter's turn to hold her in worry.

"Ohmygod, Rie," Peter breathed. "Are you alright?"

"Are you shaking, injured," Meredith persisted. "When the adrenaline slows down, tell us if you're hurt."

"Mom, mom, mom," Veron countered. "Don't smother the kid." He and the pile of firewood he cradled were in the shade, almost invisible from his black clothes. Kieran drooled from his smolder and Blaine sniggered next to him. "That was pretty badass, SPED," he stated.

"Ronny!"

Veron winked at Kieran making her blush even more. "She knows what I mean," he stated casually. Kieran nodded vigorously in response.

When she woke up, the black faded from her eyes and Janice was hovering over her. The medical examiner was probing at the senior, looking at the tendrils around the boney fingers through a magnifying glass. Kieran looked towards her window, where James stood with his muscular arms folded. In hindsight, he's too beefy to be the finance guy, Kieran thought. Next him... towering over him... was Donnie. He gave her a weak smile and Kieran turned back to the ceiling, blocked by Janice and her faintly wrinkled eyes.

Macy was braiding Kieran's hair, using her Bratz doll's comb first. "What's the prognosis, doc," Kieran asked sourly.

"You're dead," Janice replied. "This's your autopsy."

"You let your kid play with dead hair?"

"I dissected my first person before all my teeth grew back," Macy cheered proudly. "It took out all the fun from dissecting a frog."

"Remember how Blaine flipped out in Mr. Banks' class," Donnie piped up. Kieran arched an eyebrow at him. "Didn't you dissect it alone?"

"Cool," Macy commented. "Super cool."

Kieran gave a weak smirk at Macy, still playing with her hair. Janice pricked Kieran's finger. Razor obsidian sprouted from the shadows on the carpet and walls. None of the proctors were bothered by it. The droplet of substance that came was pitch black and wispy and vividly not blood. Kieran tried to sit up but Macy's disproportionate strength pulled her back to her pillow. Janice hummed her scrutiny as she set the sample into a little device that whirred to life.

Janice set it on the bedside table then shone a light into Kieran's eye. The harridan writhed and tugged away from the light. Smoke and singe came from her face. "Externally, she's fine. She probably passed out from the shock. Concentrated light on these eyes hurt, but it's not dangerous. Any light on the Black Eyes of Evil would be painful. Deadly, in some respects."

"Internally?"

"She's stagnating," Janice replied to Donnie's worry. She read her little machine and shook her head. "Kieran what do you know about mana?" The defender shook her head. "Mana, qi, quintessence, your soul; different cultures know it by different names. It flows through your body in meridians, a lot like blood in your vessels. It's the source of your capabilities, and that's why your capabilities come off of you. Stagnating is when you have 'low blood pressure'. You need fresh herbs, chicken, root vegetables..."

"Long pork," Macy asked.

Kieran sighed and shook her head. "Right, cannibal," Janice desisted. "That will actually do her better than the list."

"I'm officially vegan," Kieran murmured.

"That's a slow and painful death for a harridan," James countered. "Thank you, Janice," he went on. Janice examined Kieran laying still. The harridan sat up and Macy continued to play with her hair.

It was Donnie who asked: "what do we do in the meantime? There's a Rie-obsessed wayward out there, willing to murder out in the open."

Janice shrugged to her eldest child. "Didn't Principal Avery cancel school for the funeral? The best thing you two can do is go on pretending everything is relatively fine. Until we know what we're dealing with, be ordinary but be alert."

"What about Ms. Arclight," Donnie pressed.

"What about her?"

"This thing calls itself 'mommy', uncle. Don't you think that's reason to believe that Ms. Arclight could be a target?"

"If it wanted Magnolia dead, it would have killed her already."

"What if it's just waiting?"

"Donnie," Janice called breathily, almost in a sigh. "You're thinking with your heart and not your head. That's a dangerous place to make decisions from."

Donnie looked to Macy, dropping Kieran's hair. His hazel eyes jumped to Kieran. "You're not worried something's going to happen to her?"

Kieran shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't really care." she admitted, making the room stiff. "Magnolia and I have never been... like this," she stated, looking between Macy and Janice.

"She's your mother."

"You say that like it's supposed to mean something," Kieran stated, making the room even more uneasy. "You know, one of our neighbours called 9-1-1. She only came back because of the sirens."

"She's a carrier but she's got a good few underlying traits of a harridan." Kieran shook her head softly. Janice rested a firm hand on Kieran's shoulder. "Keep your chin up. You don't always need a relationship with your mother."

"Ma," Donnie jeered.

"You don't," Janice persisted to him. She looked back to Kieran. "From personal experience; people need to normalise that some relationships just aren't healthy. That not all parents are good parents and that it's not mandatory for you have them in your life."

"Do you expect Macy and I to cut you off too?"

"I'm doing my best, but if you feel your life would pan out better without me then that's up to you. You clearly don't see that Magnolia and Kieran are just too..." Janice faced Kieran again. "Why choose her when it’s time to choose you?"

There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the bright blue sky was a striking contrast to the black-laced town beneath. A bright day in memoriam of a bright young woman. All of New Bristol seemed to be mourning the loss of Blaine Sulkin. That damning newspaper article; the ornately decorated obituary in the same newspaper; and just Blaine's activity throughout town were reason enough. The summer warmth was layered with late blossoms' perfume and a motorcade of New Bristol Police cruisers and motorcycles with their lights flashing but their sirens muted.

In the days leading to Braine’s funeral, the media showed no remorse. It was an endless frenzy now that the mayor's attendance was public knowledge. Not even the morgue was safe! When the funeral home came, they came with police escorts and private security just to fend off the reporters. Dr Madigan-Desjardins, and her colleagues, too were bombarded with floods of questions from the cause of death to opinions on New Bristol's sweetheart.

The media frenzy didn’t stop at the morgue either. It was so bad that Sergeant Harris issued cruisers on round-the-clock watch for the Sulkin residence. Around New Bristol High, students and parents were urged not to make any statements - teachers too - although a few parents, notably the ones with affluence, surely disregarded the request.

Even though they didn’t unionise to speak with the press, the general consensus was that they were gravely disappointed that the school was so nonchalant with Kieran remaining in class without consequence. They resented that their children had to share space with someone who 'glorified taking a life'. A handful of students also had a jab at the scandal, however, they spoke nothing but praise for Kieran 'countering Blaine's self-righteousness'.

Blaine's locker was - with permission - painted with graffiti from Ryo Akiyama and decorated with candles and flowers. The irony was that the piece was four grey skeletons carrying a coffin that housed a jubilant woman in an equally colourful dress and sunglasses with a pineapple drink in hand. Kieran couldn’t help but smile at that shrine whenever she passed it. It showcased Blaine’s views on death but, unfortunately, that was not to be at her funeral.

More of Sergeant Harris’ men and women were deployed to barricade off the grave site as well as all the media. All of the New Bristol High students were allowed in, as were staff. Even with their distance from the barricade, cameras would irregularly flash their way. Pressed right against the barricading was none other than Magnolia Arclight. Around her neck was her trusty Canon and the extended lens, zooming in on Chief and Mrs. Sulkin in the front row, surrounded by bright yellow flowers, with Veron next to Meredith.

So jam-packed was that single funeral that Father Christopher and Principal Avery had to stand at a podium with a microphone, connected to huge speakers at full volume. Black and yellow as far as the eye could see were gathered for Blaine. The whole high school were behind the Sulkin family, including the cleaning staff and school security! There wasn't a soul in the better part of New Bristol that didn't know the name Blaine Sulkin: core part of New Bristol High life; a florist; veterinarian volunteer; Young Leaders Society member; regular citizen police-ride along; community service volunteer around District Hill and Lake District; lifeguard at the country club, over summer; part-time baker for the Corner Bean and the country club, where she was commissioned for her cakes, cupcakes and other treats; agriculture activist; and not forgetting Blaine had a heart of pure gold.

It made the media attention Kieran got a little more daunting, with the focus based solely from Magnolia's damning article. The harridan was away from the horde of her school, with her over-polarised Ray-Bans over her reddened eyes. Her little black leather gloves held a yellow rose. Unlike all the other attendants, Kieran stood and was almost out of range of the speakers' domain. She wore a pencil dress with a turtleneck and 3/4 sleeves with pantyhose and pumps.

Next to the podium was chief Sulkin, in his supply uniform and his white gloves rested on the side of the podium, with his hat. From the distance, Kieran could feel the crippling, cold stare of the town's police chief on her. The tightly curled black hair, paired with her standing only made Kieran stand out like a sore thumb all the more. Kieran looked down to the rose in her hand, submitting to the chief's harsh dark eyes. Donnie, beside her, could sense it too but kept his hands in his pants' pockets.

Peter Sulkin inclined his chin as he took in the melee of black clothes with speckles of yellow, per the obituary which read: the Sulkin family asks all attendees to wear and/or bring an item in yellow. Including the milliard of bouquets that Meredith spent her time making, the sunshine shades overwhelmed the onyx. Meredith crowded the entire Plant Stand in sunflowers, yellow lilies, tulips, daffodils and roses; all Blaine's favourites.

The chief of police gave a trembling sigh but soldiered through his speech, teary-eyed from all the yellow: "thank you, all, for coming. What a great tribute to someone so optimistic, to a young woman who always had a creative take on things, to my daughter who was a living example of loyalty." He scanned the guests and kept his eyes on Kieran the longest. "To my Blaine," he affirmed.

The subtext was deafening and Kieran didn't dare to look away from her dainty, curd-coloured rose. Donnie gave a brief gander to Kieran before looking back to the podium. Behind Peter was Father Chistopher with his fingers laced in front of him. Right beside the podium - in one of Meredith's handmade wreaths of daisies - was the shining profile of Blaine with her broad, emerald eyes and illuminating Cheshire Cat grin. Superimposed for the back row of seated guests to see in perfect detail.

"It was only five days ago when she was stuffing me into my old linebacker uniform. And now, we're saying goodbye," the police chief went on. "When I sat down to write my speech, I tried remembering the last thing Blaine said to me, and I couldn't. I couldn't for the life of me. I just kept coming back to this quote she had on her wall, by St. Thérèse of Lisieux, which was her saint name, when she was confirmed. Thérèse said, 'the splendour of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness'. And that was Blaine; seeing the best of virtues in the most modest of places. What's more to say than that?"

There was a murmur of agreement and freckles of nods in the crowd - from the heads that weren't hidden by umbrellas barring off the sun. Someone shifted their umbrella enough for Kieran to see the dais and coffin drowning in yellow bouquets. The very things Blaine didn't want. That's when Kieran started crying as she mustered the courage to face the police chief again.

"Before we go any further in these proceedings, there's something more I would like to say," Peter added. "When I look around, I see a whole community who was touched in some way by my daughter and, for that, I couldn't be prouder of her or the woman she's become. This is her legacy-- we are her legacy. Now, for that, I feel you all have a right to know how we lost Blaine. Blaine... my dear, Blaine was mauled by a bear. A rabid bear that strayed into town that night. And it breaks my heart to admit how quickly I turned on someone I saw as my own daughter, forgetting that her future is just as bright as Blaine's, that she had absolutely no motive, or even a wicked bone in her body. My family and I... we owe Kieran Arclight, as well as the rest of the Arclight family, an apology."

Donnie looked to see Kieran give a weak, trembling leer and a faint tilt in her head. One of his meaty paws settled on her shoulder and gave a soft squeeze. Kieran's smile vanished and she jerked her shoulder free from him. Donnie sighed deeply to himself then tucked his hand back into his pocket. His formal black shirt was untucked and gave him a rugged, unkempt demeanor with his stubble growing out. Like Kieran, he had a blond rose from James' garden but his was a boutonniere tucked neatly in place.

Blaine’s remains were laid to rest and the service was concluded and that’s when the insufferable began for the attendees. Weaving through reporters and journalists to get to their vehicles. It was thunderous! The erratic clicking of bright flashes. The indistinctive shouting! The shoving. The microphones in faces. The egging stares. The jeering from spectators. The persistent protests. The Sulkins remained at the grave site, greeting guests but were not at all oblivious to the commotion behind them.

The delicate flower in the leather gloves was twirled endlessly with Kieran watching her schoolmates disperse with their parents and guardians. Donnie looked to her expectantly to see her exhale a weak breath of black mist. After that she mustered a stiff nod. Donnie walked with her, like a lamb to the slaughter, up to Meredith and Peter and Veron. While Blaine looked exactly like Peter with Meredith's features, Veron looked exactly like Meredith with Peter's features.

He had the dark hair, the down-pointing eyes, the thick eyebrows and the big ears with Meredith's chiselled face. Blaine had Meredith's wide eyes and button nose and thin eyebrows but Peter's full cheeks. Where she inherited dirty blonde hair was anyone's guess; the same went for Veron's blue eyes. The piercing blue eyes that belonged to the grunge hunk Kieran was once crushing on, just before he went to college, and she and Blaine started high school. That phase had long ended for them both.

Even from behind her blacked-out sunglasses, Kieran saw Meredith prickle when the florist saw them approaching. She didn't hesitate to turn away from them. The chief's shoulders dispirited too when he recognised the mess of hair. Kieran cleared her throat lowly and looked to the simmering press and scattering guests. She too bristled from nearing them and couldn't fathom how Donnie retained his cool.

"What are you doing here," Meredith lashed at Kieran. Her lips parted and were moving but not a sound came out. "I don't care what the autopsy says. I know you did this!" Donnie set his hand firmly on the small of her waist, but this time Kieran left him.

Veron caught sight of them and - contrary to his parents - actually gave a Blaine-adjacent grin. One that almost halted Kieran in her tracks; for a brief minute, he looked exactly like Blaine. "I was wondering where you were," he declared and pulled Donnie into a bear hug. Veron pat Donnie on the shoulder and, upon closer inspection, he too had been crying profusely. "The First Man of New Bristol High," Veron whispered. Then he saw Kieran. She swallowed hard, anticipating the ridicule. "SPED," he greeted squarely after letting Donnie go. Kieran took a meek step away but Veron tugged her into his hold. "Hey."

She hummed then wrapped her arms him and rested her chin on his shoulder. "H-hi," she murmured.

"God, you got taller," he commented. "Last time I saw you, the soccer team was doing a bikini car wash, and everyone thought you were still a freshman." Kieran hummed softly but behind those Ray-Bans, her eyes switched to Meredith and Peter.

"What do you want, Kieran," Peter hissed.

"Dad..."

"It's okay," she whispered.

"No! No, it's not," Meredith roared. “You’re not welcome here.”

"We just came to pay our respects," Donnie voiced and Kieran heard, for the first time, how close to crying he really was.

Kieran felt darkness slither over her fingers, under her gloves and exhaled roughly through her nose. "You know what," she snapped softly, removing her glasses and showing her veins were starting to tint. It made Donnie's eyes stretch. "For a long time, I looked to the two of you more as my parents more than Magnolia. When I got detention for punching Catherine Harto, Magnolia grounding me meant nothing. But you two telling me you expect more...?" Kieran inclined her chin, feeling the shadows around her swirl and not bothering to rein it in. "The fact that you would dare believe I would ever hurt Blaine tells me that you never saw me the way I saw you. That all these years were just bullshit."

"Who do you think you are, standing there and--"

"You disappoint me more than Magnolia."

Meredith gasped her stun, unable to continue her reprimand and it was her turn for no words to come from her flapping lips. Peter also glitched at that. Seargent Harris' approach was all too perfectly timed. He came to escort the family back to their chauffer. Ronny and Donnie exchanged fist pumps before he gave Kieran a final hug. She let out a staggered breath when they were out of earshot and noticed how Donnie had been teary-eyed all the while.

"Sorry," he replied, roughly wiping his tears.

"I respect you a little more now," she rebuttalled.

"Wh-what?"

"We need more men willing to cry," was all she answered on the matter.

Donnie scoffed but gave her smile. "You're not as bad a people think."

Kieran put her sunglasses back on then sniffled in sync with him. Donnie tried his luck at holding her hand. She allowed it, feeling his hand through the leather. Kieran leaned her head against his arm as they took in the dark granite headstone staring back at them. Donnie gave a chuffed smile to himself and nestled closer to her. The graveyard went silent when Sergeant Harris' car drove off with the remainder of the Sulkin family.

A soft breeze sailed through the grey graveyard and Kieran felt it through her loose curls. "I always thought you two would end up in one of those white-wall-red-door-tree-swing townhouses on Calloway Street." He shifted his arm around her into a side hug. "You were an aesthetic. She told me how you would argue, but you always knew that it was the two of you against the problem. How you were always there for her in ways I couldn't be." Donnie couldn't help but grin. "You were an all-American cliche."

He scoffed but trailed a finger through her hair. "I loved watching her laugh whenever she was with you," Donnie piped. "Out of everyone she could have at her side, she chose the snarky, sarcastic harridan." Kieran's tears seeped down from the Ray-Bans and she tucked her lips hard. "I remember when we first moved here, you lived further up the road. And at your birthday party, she made a giant chocolate chip cookie, but the chips were shaped like a constellation."

"Pieces," Kieran nodded. She laid her rose against the headstone then tucked her lips as she stood. "This isn't what she wanted." The proctor and the harridan started for the X class truck. "She wanted to be somewhere away from a graveyard, under the sun, with a yellow wisteria in memoriam."

"Sounds perfectly Blaine," Donnie stated, holding the door open for her. Kieran saw him wipe away the dregs of his tears before cruising off through the graveyard. The mundane, unfeeling grave left in their wake.

The Stirling Lane mansion was quiet with James' staff given a mandatory leave, with all the wayward activity going on around the house. The lavender scent was heavy on the harridan; almost smacking her when she came inside. Donnie noticed it too; how she teetered before leaning into the wall. Kieran shoed him away mutely and took a second to gather herself.

As if on cue, Kieran opened her phone with a message from Anna. A badly taken selfie of her sitting on the train. Kieran gave a small smile. "I am finally going to go backpacking through Canada. I have been dying to do this! And now I have the perfect excuse," Anna told Kieran when she came from school. The housekeeper took her hands and gave them a firm squeeze. "I just realized that I'm going to miss you leaving for Princeton." The weak glimmer of a wry smile of Kieran's vanished. "You know I'll be a call away, if you need anything, honey. Except your laundry." Anna then set her fingers under Kieran's chin with a growing smile. "Chin up, little soldier." The soccer player nodded. "I used to tell Alix that same thing before he..."

Kieran sat in the kitchen, cupping her forehead where James was manning his built-in gridle. The chief financial officer stirred his bowl of homemade cheese sauce before drowning the burger patties in it. Donnie watched him toast the English muffin and burger buns. He leaned against the island, also listening to James humming to himself over the sizzling gridle. He flipped bacon onto the eggs on the English muffin before sliding the plate across to Donnie and serving Kieran the burger.

Donnie was watching the table, holding the warm plate over one hand. At the table, Kieran took a weak bite of her burger. James turned off the gridle and leaned against the counter with his arms folded, also turning to Kieran eating. She had removed her gloves and had sauce and grease dripping down her hands. She didn't hesitate to lick it off her fingers, regardless of the woe on her shadowy expression.

The swollen, sore eyes turned to Donnie's disgust and James' patient intrigue. "Is it good," the senior proctor inquired.

She nodded weakly. "It kind of reminds me of my gran's meat..." Kieran looked down at the burger "... loaf." Skeptically Kieran swallowed her mouthful and squished the remnants in her mouth. "Please tell this is a farm animal."

"He was sustainably farmed from the morgue," James replied. Kieran groaned a gag and pushed away the plate. "You need it. It will do more for you than green vegetables." Kieran took in her burger and, despite the obvious, it was delicious. "Kieran," James sighed then sat next to her, "he wasn't alive when he was minced. Pallor mortis had already set in."

"What part of him is it?"

"Thighs. Cut-offs from behind; hardly noticeable."

Kieran looked to Donnie for support and he looked down at his bacon and avocado sandwich. "Okay, now I'm skeptical," he stated.

"That's pork-pork," James pointed out. He looked back to Kieran with an intrigue she hadn't seen him wear before. "If you were experienced enough, you'd be able to taste the difference."

"That raises so many questions," Donnie pointed out.

James shrugged him off then looked to Kieran. "Have you gotten anymore letters from the stalker?" Before Kieran could say, 'yes' the front door barged open with Sergeant Harris rushing right into the kitchen. "Franklin?"

"You need to see this," he stated and handed over a tablet. Donnie hastened to the seat on the other side of James and watched the surveillance video from town hall. Kieran moaned and turned away. She could hear herself begging Blaine to leave and Blaine refusing. "Bottom left..." Sergeant Harris waited, listening to Kieran protest on the device "... now!"

Kieran saw it too; a wicked fast blur that was there before the power went out. When the light returned, it was walking away. What was more unnerving than anything else wasn't that whoever it was avoided being identified, it was that it didn't look human. "Forest-dweller," James stated.

"How can you tell," Donnie pressed.

"The hunch, the speed, and claws," the seasoned proctor answered. "That must be how she knows about the cottage, Kieran's capabilities," he added, sending shivers down Kieran's spine. "Why did this take so long to surface?"

"The mayor," the policeman answered. "Around the same time, he and his lover were sneaking off. I imagine he doesn't want his wife knowing he's having an affair with another man."

"Gavin Addams," Donnie asked, taking the sergeant aback. "The only thing faster than light, in a high school, is the gossip."

"Anyway," Franklin deflected after shaking that off. "This is the one that was 'found' by detectives." He showed the same video, this time edited to replace the creature with the distinct silhouette of a bear. "Peter was less than impressed that it wasn't murder but with evidence this black and white, he doesn't have a leg to stand on."

"So, chief and Meredith don't know about waywards o-or about... me?"

"It's better this way, Rie." Kieran looked down to her long pork burger that was lathered with an amazing cheese sauce. James reached for her shoulder but she softly jerked away. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Donnie went on abruptly. "Forest-dweller, lightning fast, stalking-- it's a beldam!"

Franklin Harris and James looked to each other before the officer threw his head back laughing. "That's quite the imagination, kid," Sergeant Harris stated. "If basketball doesn't get you anywhere, you should try creative writing."

"He might be onto something, sergeant," James cut in. "Although, to be fair, it could also be a leanan sidhe."

"English," Kieran spat.

James turned to her and furrowed his eyebrows then blinked quizzically at her. "Unless it is a beldam." Kieran looked to Donnie and his pallid dread then to the sergeant before turning back to James. "Apart from the cottage what else has the stalker done for you?"

"Paid my bike fixed, bought me gifts, told me I look nice, offered to talk to me, to do my hair and makeup for prom; literally anything Magnolia has never done."

"Then it is a beldam," James stated breathlessly. "Do you remember when I told you waywards are like a family? A beldam is your creepy, baby-fever aunt, obsessed with wanting children. It has a sick compulsion to 'care' for the children it captures. Said care is usually displayed by, paying creepy amounts of attention to the child. They don’t usually fixate on teenagers. It must be someone who lost a child around the same age."

As the words left his mouth, James' eyes went wide as did Kieran's but she shook her head. "N-no..." Despite that flash of denial, together they both said the same thing, at the same time: "Anna." Kieran's lips parted. "There was another letter this morning."

She stormed up to her room. "How's that possible," James argued. "She's in Canada."

"No, she's not," Donnie began. "She's still around. She can move at breakneck speeds, so she can get to Boston and back in two-three hours. Pair that with some amateur editing skills, she's travelling through Canada, the West Indies. Hell, she could send you pictures from the Marian Trench if she's determined enough."

When Kieran came back, she had a steel coffer with her. "I found it in my bathroom, this morning but... I don't know, what if it's Blaine's brain, or other?"

Sergeant Harris took the note from her and read: "'my sweet angel, I love you. I want you to be happy. Princeton won't make you happy. It's not what you want and it's not what I want for you. I want you to be happy. I hope when prom comes, you've made a decision FOR YOU, and not to fulfill someone else's ideals. I think you are extraordinarily beautiful. Mommy'. You don't want to go to Princeton, witch kid?"

"Call her that again and it will be the last thing you do, sergeant." James tilted his head at her when she looked to her pumps. "Do you?"

The harridan lightly shook her head, not looking up. "You know how in those movies about small towns, the main character just wants to leave," she asked in murmurs but looked to the mansion's owner, specifically. "I don't want that. I've only left New Bristol for away games. My home is here, my life, everything I ever wanted is here." James gave a wry smirk. "Not here, here obviously." The sergeant shrugged nonchalantly at her.

Donnie had long since set his set his brunch aside and examined the steel coffer Kieran brought with her. "That seems harmless enough," he pointed out and undid the clasps. James' dark eyes shot towards him but he had already pushed open the lid. Kieran stepped away fearfully at Donnie's scrunched eyebrows. "What the...? It's makeup," he concluded then spun the coffer around. Kieran took out the tub marked foundation.

She dabbed some on the back of her hand. "In my tone," she stated. With that, the police sergeant took his leave. "She takes everything from me and expects me to lay down?"

"You don't get it," James ridiculed and slid the makeup away from her. "It doesn't see you for you; you're an object to it, now. A plaything. It would be like a little girl that plays too rough with her dolls and once it breaks you, it will kill you. This 'love' is about what the victim provides a beldam, not the victim, themselves."

"But, Anna...? Whoa! She bought the cottage and paid in full. How much do you pay her?"

"The obsession knows no bounds, Kieran."

"Think Other Mother from Coraline," Donnie added.

"Are you going to reference a fairy tale or myth every single time?"

"Why do you think they were written, Rie," the basketballer quizzed back. "The brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Anderson, Niel Gaiman, Guillermo del Toro, Roald Dahl, even Shakespeare. They all have ties to various forms of wayward organisations. Their approach was educating ordinaries to defend themselves."

"Do read with a pinch of salt though; some of these were written in prejudice."

Kieran cut her eyes on her burger. "Anna killed Blaine," she mumbled. "Anna killed Blaine," she roared. The shadows shattered the plates on the table.